#i really earnestly almost cried | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suguru-getos · 6 months

Text

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 24﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Geto Suguru x F!Reader -> Size Kink

Summary: After returning from your trip, you found out your boyfriend is not okay. Maybe a vacation (To Venice) ;) would help. (Mentions of Deppressed!Suguru, angst, breakdowns, toothrotting fluff and comfort, Satoru being a wonderful best friend, Suguru healing) ❤️‍🩹 Basically hurt-comfort with size!kink 😭

Warnings: Angst, breakdowns, Suguru’s deranged and suc!dal and has murderUrges, Reader (us) comfort him and pull him out from it. Mentions of reader’s breakdowns, cus I mean— 🤷🏻‍♀️ Look at him!!?? Nipple-play, breeding, softsex, sensual, FLUFFY AND NICE AND SUGURU’s so Spoiling towards us it’s just 🙈

A/N: Guys I had sm fun 🥹😵‍💫🩵 writing this I swear!! Hurt-comfort is like my favorite thing in the whole wide world <33 I love to characterize Suguru & to play around with his character. *Screeches and screams* 🍨🍦 I made him yummy thank me later xx Also can we look at the images of him above 🥵 size kink BRRRR

"If you really think, you can do everything, take everything in, save people, and somehow save yourself along with the deceitful thinking that you will protect me. Then you're wrong!" Tears welled up in your eyes, the pain clearly imminent in Suguru's eyes. He looked dead inside, and no mourning was soothing your ache for your older Suguru. You just, missed him beyond beliefs… even when he was right beside you. You hoped he would response to your cry of pain, your bleeding words, but he didn't have it in him anymore. Suguru had almost, given up on himself.

Your hands found themselves clasping onto his collar, pulling him closer to you. "Suguru, look at me, I am telling you something. Can't you fucking see how much it hurts!" You screamed, losing your calm, your temper. It felt ironical to complain to him about how much it's hurting you. You can see he's got it worse; the nights full of terrors and the days full of decaying cursed spirits. You were an empath for your lover, and it was clear staying near him was subjecting you to everything he felt. He doesn't want to see you this way, desperate and hurting…

"I'm sorry, Angel." Suguru sighed, wrecked with the way you burst into tears and hugged him. Voice choking onto sobs as you earnestly tried clutching onto him for dear life. "Sugu, come back to me please come back…" You cried, wailed and eventually dropped onto your knees. The incomprehensible feeling, the heaviness of the things Suguru was going through was making you breathless.

Suguru's heart was only breaking further apart, watching you slowly scrape away in front of him. "I want to kill myself." He finally spoke up, "No, truth is, I want to kill everyone."

This was the first time Suguru was opening up, and no matter how brutal it sounded, his eyes were still kind. Maybe because it was you, in front of him. "You are a sorcerer, too, I shouldn't say this to you, but I hate those monkeys." He radiates pessimism and negativity through him. Yet, you smile a little.

"Come with me, go away with me." You held his hands, squeezing them tightly as if you were grateful they're not cold. You truly were. They were warm, they were still your Suguru's hands.

"Please, Suguru, let's go away for some time." You urged, and he knelt with you, hugging you tightly, not caring about the whimper that escapes you because of his firm grip.

"Running away, won't solve anything." He echoed, and you felt your stomach sink. Soft sniffles echoing in the room as you shook your head like a tantrum-y child. "No, we will solve everything. You and I, we can solve everything. No matter what it is." You cupped his face, becoming stronger for him. "It's okay to feel like this Suguru, it's okay. I'm here." You nudge, watching his eyes showing signs of at least, some life in them. "Can you, not give up?" You meant on himself, you meant on everything.

To make sure, he understands… you hummed again, "makes me feel like, I'm being abandoned."

Suguru blinked at that, letting your words settle deep within. "Makes me feel like, I'm not even worth fighting for." You looked down, not having the guts to say this to him while making eye-contact. "Please, let's elope somewhere Sugu." You crooned, babying him almost. "I will follow you to the ends of the earth anyway, even if your path is changed." You hum, and with the way your pupils fixated on your hands intertwined, Suguru knows you mean it.

"Okay, maybe… I do need a little get away." Suguru smiled tenderly, partial charm returning to his eyes.

Oh it felt like rain in famine, "Good, thank you, I love you."

"I love you too, my Angel."

---

The next thing was you booking tickets to go to Europe. You urged Satoru and Yaga to not assign any more missions for Suguru. It was hard, you and Suguru were both powerful special grade sorcerers; but hey- you both had Satoru to rely on. "I told you the moment he lost weight, he wasn't doing okay." Satoru scoffed, rolling his eyes, tapping at his feet impatiently in the café you decided to meet him in. "What the fuck is up with being the one to hide things?" Satoru was pissed, why would his best friend not communicate? "Makes him feel less of a man?" You chuckle at that, you knew Satoru loved him almost as much as you did. "I've persuaded him to go on a trip with me." "You did?" Satoru was… amazed. These days, Suguru wasn't even joining in for any normal outings. Wasn't going out of his house for weeks, wasn't even meeting you. Things worsened when you left to Korea for a mission longer than 3 weeks. You had to stay there for some Jujutsu School Collaboration initiative. That's when Suguru was off his leash, truly at his worst. Taking missions more than he should, succumbing to the darkness of his mind and the curses.

"Just, want you to handle things while we're gone." You sipped onto the iced frappe you've ordered. Meanwhile Satoru ate a mochi, seemingly absent-minded and bored. "You don't have to worry about that, you know I'd do that in a heartbeat for him." He bratted, raising a brow at you. "And you…"

You smiled at that, nodding gently. It felt good to have the 'Strongest' so whipped for your boyfriend, and platonically you, as well.

The higher-ups posed a threat, as always. 'Why is Suguru Geto not on missions?' ; 'Did he get off the job of a Sorcerer?' especially the cunt-faced Principal of Kyoto. You and Satoru personally paid him a disrespectful visit at his school. Nothing he can complain against, wouldn't sit well to anger two special grades, will it? Despite showing that the Sorcerer world is only filled with people who are willing to take on the role- example: Nanami switching from corporate jobs to a sorcerer job… it was still, at the end, a disgusting, foul powerplay hidden beneath shackles of rules. If you are a special grade sorcerer, they'd do anything to hold on to you. Even blackmails are not far off the list. Emotionally draining…

---

"I have booked us a flight to Venice, baby." You sat cross legged on the swing chair Suguru's house has, fondling with your iPad and searching for hotel venues. "Venice huh." Suguru was still numbed, but at least, not he couldn't avoid you because practically you lived with him now. "Yeah, we can go to Switzerland, and also wherever you want. I hear Germany this time of the year is beautiful." You croaked excitedly, swaying your legs as he walked towards you, sitting on the chair in front of you. "Satoru told me you and I are on a vacation for months." He came directly on the point. "The trip isn't that long, is it?" He manspreaded, raising a brow.

You gulped, smiling softly, the last thing you need is him feeling 'weak'. You had to approach this carefully. "Suguru, I think you and I have done enough missions for a while. I want us to spend some time together, to ourselves." You added some degree of truth, "Also, I don't want you to keep eating curses and letting them eat you from the inside and I don't want to lose the person I love the most in my fucking life." With the way you affirmatively snapped, there was no way, Suguru would battle against it. A soft nod was all you got as a response.

"Alright, I will handle the packing. Don't want you screeching like a wild animal when you discover you forgot your charger." He leaned in, giving you a chaste peck & you giggled. "Of course."

---

The packing, the preparations, the dressing up and going to the Airport, the flight where you slept leaned against his shoulder. All went by in a tender haze of beautiful memories. Inflicted and infected by his sadness, still. Though you wouldn't mind. You're ready to accept him rotten if needed.

When you two reached Venice, the Victorian style hotel with the boats and the beautiful lakes was in fact, refreshing for him; and you. You knew it because Suguru had stopped going to your shared balcony of the house, now here he was, standing there, observing the people. The couples giggling and kissing each other, the boat rowers singing in their native Italian language, the streets with so much hustle and bustle… yet calming. You hugged him from behind, breathing in his scent. "Like it?" "Love it, my beautiful baby." He crooned back, turning towards you and pulling you closer to him by your hips. "I love you." He chanted, almost in a way that he used to when he first asked you out. These past few months were hard and rough, but if you were able to have him back, even infinitely slowly… you'd dedicate it to eradicating all his sadness.

"If you want, I can dress very Lana Del Rey today and we could make steamy love." You giggled, leaning in and kissing him softly. Suguru and you… yeah, haven't made love in a while. You'd never push him when he isn't feeling it, and naturally, someone who's suffering so much would have it at the last thing on his mind.

"You're right, how disappointing of me… I don't remember the last time I treated you, I worshipped you." He thought out loud, and you pouted. "It's okay Suguru, don't think about it like that. Think about how you're gonna make it up to me." You stuck your tongue out, giggling.

It's the way he looks at you, like he's starving and you're delectable. It's the way his eyes are loud enough with their projection of love that it quiets the world down for you. It's the way Suguru Geto breathes, that makes you love him so much you'd break.

Right now, he's doing the same thing… being himself. Hands wandering to your sides and helping you wrap your legs around his waist as he walked towards the shared bedroom of the hotel. Leaning in and kissing you passionately, shoving his tongue just to show how much he's been deeply yearning. Admiration coated in every action. "So lucked out that I have you." He smiled to himself, kissing your forehead deeply once you were nestled into the succumbing softness of the mattress.

"Same," you grin back, watching him undress you with his eyes first, and then his hands followed. You mimicked the same movements.

"I can't handle the fucking hotness!" You whined, once he was left in his pants, upper body naked for you to devour. Suguru chuckled, heat rushing through his cheeks and core as he cupped your face, kissing you once again.

The thing about you and him is, Suguru is big. He's built like a bulky man. Stretched to 6'3'', broad shoulders that'd hold two of you, hands big enough you miss almost an inch if you were to compare his with yours. Yeah, Suguru was big and you were tiny. Something that only aided to you being subbier and smaller to him. Letting him manhandle and take all the control that he wants to.

"Who do you belong to, darling?" He cooed, watching you instantly answer. "You, forever and always."

It warms his heart when he hears that, spreading your damp pussy lips with his fingers and thrusting a finger into you. It's been… long. He knows it with the way you're clamping for dear life, just on his digit. "Sh-i-t," You croak out, while Suguru hushed you with a soft kiss, slowly moving his finger in and out of your pussy. Once he felt you had accepted his finger's girth, he inserted another one. "AH god-" You whined, mewling at the delicious stretch of his thick and long fingers being coated with your essence. "You want to make sweet love and you're so worked up with the fingers alone." He chuckled to himself, stretching you out so good, curling them against the familiar sensitive spot.

Your back arched, the way your pussy clamped as if she was a slave to his hands and cock.

"Oh she's close." He cooed, "Go on, cum for me then I can ruin you with me." He kissed your pelvis, holding it down as your orgasm raked through you, approaching fiercely and shuddering your body against him as waves of pleasure took over you. "Good girl. Good little girl." Suguru praised, riding it out for you. Once the orgasm's high settled, Suguru took out his fingers and suckled onto them, eyes never leaving yours.

"Want you, so bad!" You gasped out, pulling him closer to you by wrapping your legs around him, feeling the imprint of his cock into you. "Alright alright, impatient little girl." He smirks, pushing the tip of his pre-leaking cock into you in one swift stroke. Mean, Suguru Geto is mean sometimes… especially when he wants you to be scream at the stretch only he can give you. No one else, he wants your pussy to know only how he feels. Damn he's big, and when he pushes himself balls deep, your pussy is strained beyond its limit. "Shit- s- so big Sugu." You whimper out, tearing up at the ache.

"Ssh, it's okay darling. I'm still. Adjust to me, go on." Suguru patiently waits, kissing your face all over, leaning in and kissing your breasts, suckling onto your nipples while you clamped and waited for the pain to settle in.

"Move, please…" You glance at him now, doe-eyed and insatiable.

"Of course, took you some time to adjust to me huh? Tiny little baby." He smiles, thrusting into you without relent. Your womb stops him from going in any further, your insides torn apart deliciously at the feeling of being ploughed by him. "Oh- G- oh God," words fail you, the air choked out of your lungs with how good it hurts, with how pleasureful it feels.

Suguru's hand laced around your pelvis, pressing on it gently. "Got you," He smirks cockily, holding your hand and keeping it on your pelvis, enveloped by his own as he pressed.

A shrill scream filled the room, "Oh you can sense it, can't you sweetheart? Sense how deep I reach?" You moan at the pressure, pushing you closer and closer to the edge as you hopelessly nodded. Gasping and choking on air. "God yes, Sugu- AH please- oh my- g'nna," You whimpered, while Suguru was at a rhythmic pace now. Sometimes pulling all the way out and pushing back all the way in. He loved seeing you walk the rope between pleasure and pain.

"Good girl, with the way you're holding onto me, I can sense you're close." Suguru hummed, grounding you with his kisses, his spoiled little praises.

"Go on, show me how much you missed me."

"Just like (thrust) I (thrust) missed (thrust) this (thrust) pussy-" Suguru toppled off the edge right with you, painting your insides white with his warmth. "Oh god- fuck-"

You shudder, spasming around his cock and milking him further.

"That's it, I got you. I got you." Suguru reminded, leaning in and kissing you softly, tenderly, as if you'd break if he were to touch you wrong.

"I missed you, I missed this." He mused to himself, blushing a little at the sight of you fucked out and half-lidded. You nodded, still taking ragged breaths. "I love you"

"I love you too, Angel."

1K notes · View notes

babybluebex · 1 year

Note

Omg the way you write perv Eddie is so HOT PLS 🫣 can you maybe elaborate on how that phone call went afterwards..does Eddie from them on continue to act like readers boyfriend..maybe makes her do him little pervy favours with the excuse of him being her “boyfriend”

yes yes i can totally elaborate on the phone call... 😈 cw innocent!reader, dubcon, male masturbation, daddy kink, some degradation, corruption, names (princess, baby, slut, good girl)

You waited all night for Eddie to call. You eschewed hanging out with your friends so that you didn’t miss Eddie’s call (you didn’t really hate being left out, since your friends liked to make fun of you in a way that sometimes felt a little too mean to be something that friends did), and you sat in the living room and watched television while you waited for him to call.

Except Eddie never did call. You were up until 2am, figuring that maybe he got busy— you knew very little about him, but you figured he probably had things to do that would deter him from calling too soon after school, but, by the time the television channel decided to turn off for the night and turned to static, you knew that that certainly wasn’t what had happened.

Did Eddie ever even intend to call you? Was his promise empty? Did he even want to be your boyfriend? He seemed like he did, with how quickly he agreed to it, but your heart still hurt at the idea that maybe he didn’t like you the way you liked him. Eddie was your first boyfriend, not that that was something you could revel in with your parents; they wouldn’t like the fact that someone like Eddie, rough and uncouth, metal and Satanic, was your boyfriend. If your parents had their way, you would be dating some boy from their country club, with pressed khaki pants and polo shirts and boat shoes, but you had never found that type of boy attractive or even nice. But Eddie was handsome, and he was nice to you; he was already a better boyfriend than any boy your parents wanted you to date.

FInally, at almost 3 in the morning, as you sat in bed and sniffled as you cried, the phone on your bedside table began to ring. Your hand shot out to answer it, hoping that the phone in the kitchen hadn’t woken up your parents, and you were quick to press the plastic receiver to your face. “Hello?” you asked, your voice wobbling.

“Is that my princess?” Eddie’s voice came, light and easy, and you sniffled.

“Hi, Eds,” you mumbled, and you sniffled again. You felt all clogged up from crying, and your sniffle felt empty as you wiped at your face. “H-How are you?”

“I’m fantastic,” Eddie said, and you could almost hear his smile. “My band had a gig tonight and we made a lot of tips, so I’m in a good mood.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “I’m glad you had a good, um, gig.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, and you heard a metallic flick before he spoke again. “Are you crying?” he asked. “You sound upset.”

“Yeah,” you whimpered. “I-I thought you had forgotten to call.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “I’d never forget my princess, I just got busy. I’m sorry. You really shouldn’t cry over me, though, I’m not worth it.”

“F’course you are,” you told him earnestly. “You’re my boyfriend, Eds, you are worth it.”

“Right,” Eddie said. “Boyfriend, all because you let me look at your tits… You’ve got good tits, princess, don’t ever let anyone tell you differently.”

“Thank you,” you said, and you couldn’t control the flush that heated up your skin. “I like your eyes.”

“You’re cute,” Eddie told you. “My sweet princess, I wish you were here with me right now.”

“Yeah?” you asked. “Why?”

“‘Cause I’m all alone,” Eddie started. “My blood’s running all hot from the show, and I wish I could fuck you silly.”

You cringed. “I don’t like that word,” you said softly.

“What?” Eddie asked. “Fuck?”

“It’s just a bad word,” you mumbled. “So is tits.”

“Oh, baby, but fuck is my favorite word,” Eddie said. “Do you not curse or anything?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t like the way it sounds.”

“Princess,” Eddie said softly, almost like he was fussing at you. “I’ll try to stop, but I like to curse, so you can’t get too mad at me when I slip up and do it around you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, even if it made your tummy feel weird.

"Hey, baby?" Eddie started. "You wanna help me do something?”

“Yeah!” you said, sitting up in bed and tugging the phone a little closer to you. “What can I do?”

“Tell me what you’re wearing,” Eddie said, and you wrinkled your nose in confusion.

“Why?” you asked.

“I told you, it’s gonna help me,” Eddie said, and you heard some rustling from his side of the phone, almost like he was moving something around. “Don’t leave anything out. Describe it to me.”

“Umm…” you started, and you looked down at yourself. “A sweatshirt. It’s blue, like, um, a dark blue; it’s too big on me, because it’s my dad’s.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hummed, and he added, “What else, princess?”

“Sweatpants,” you said. “They’re pink.”

“Are you wearing a bra?” Eddie asked, and you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“No,” you said, and Eddie made a weird noise, almost like he was in pain. “Are you okay?”

“M’fine, baby,” Eddie said. “Just keep going. Are you wearing panties?”

“Duh, Eds,” you giggled, and Eddie made that weird noise again. “They’re white and they’ve got these little pink hearts on them.”

“Do they have a bow on them?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s really small, but it’s there.”

“Cute,” Eddie said, but he sounded strange, a little choked up, like he was trying not to cry. “Anything else?”

“No,” you told him. “Is this helping?”

“Oh, baby, you have no idea,” Eddie said. On his side of the phone, there were more weird noises, a sort of rhythmic sound that almost could have been a slapping if you thought about it hard enough. “Talk about your panties more.”

“I told you what they look like,” you said. “Umm, what else do you wanna know?”

“Are they tight?” Eddie asked. “Do they hug your pretty butt, or are they more loose?”

“I mean,” you shrugged. “They fit right, so they’re not tight or whatever, but they’re not loose either.”

“Wish I could see…” Eddie mumbled, and he hissed in a tight breath. “God, princess, m’gonna… Tell me about your pussy, please.”

You knew what that was, thanks to your friends, and you pressed your thighs together as your blush settled between your legs. At least, you thought it was your blush; it was hot, just like in your cheeks, but your pussy, as Eddie called it, throbbed a little with the heat. “It feels all tingly,” you mumbled. “Like, it feels funny.”

“Like a good funny?” Eddie asked. “Good tingles?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Does that help you, Eds?”

“Call me Daddy,” Eddie told you in his short, clipped words. “Just for a second, baby, keep talking about the tingles but call me Daddy.”

“Umm, okay,” you said slowly. “It feels kinda warm? Like I’m blushing down there. Is that normal, Daddy?”

“Yes, princess, that’s normal,” Eddie told you. “Fuck, baby, keep going, tell me all about those tingles.”

“I like them,” you said softly.

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie asked. “I bet they feel good, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Feel really good, Daddy.”

“Fuck!” Eddie exclaimed. “My little slut, my good girl…”

“I’m not a slut, Eddie,” you told him firmly. Your feelings were bruised by the fact that he would even think to call you that, and the tingling of tears hit your nose and eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“M’sorry, princess,” Eddie said. “I couldn’t help it, please don’t be mad at me. And remember what I asked you to call me, just for a second longer, just a little more…” The strange slapping got louder and faster, and your tingles in your belly and thighs only grew at the sound of it.

“What’re you doing, Daddy?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Eddie told you. “How do you know what a slut is?”

“I heard my friends say it,” you mumbled. “They used to call me something like that…”

“What would they call you, baby?” Eddie asked. “Something bad?”

“They would call me a, umm…” you started, trying to remember. “I don’t know. It started with a P.”

“Prude?” Eddie said, and you nodded quickly.

“Yeah!” you said. “But I don’t know what it means.”

“It’s a mean name,” Eddie told you, and you frowned. “It’s one of those mean names that I said they’d call you if they knew that you showed me your tits. Well, maybe not that one, but they were making fun of you.”

“For what?” you asked. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong, was I?”

“A prude is someone who doesn’t have sex,” Eddie told you, and you felt your heart sink down into your tummy. “They were making fun of you ‘cause you’re so innocent.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“For what, princess?” Eddie asked. “I like that you’re so innocent, it’s cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” you asked, and Eddie grunted.

“So cute, baby,” he said softly. “Fuck, baby, I…” For a moment, there was a rustling on the phone again, and Eddie made that weird pained noise again before you heard him breathing heavily, like he had just run a mile. “Fuck, baby. Oh my God… I made such a mess, fuck me.”

“Oh no!” you pouted. “What happened?”

“Nothing, baby, don’t worry about it,” Eddie told you. “Thank you, though, I appreciate your help.”

“Of course,” you giggled. “Anything for you, Daddy.”

“Fuck, I like the way you say that,” Eddie said softly. “Keep calling me that. Like, how I call you ‘princess’, you can call me ‘Daddy’. How does that sound?”

“Okay,” you agreed. “That sounds good to me.”

“Good, good,” Eddie said. “Hey, baby, I’ve gotta go and clean up my mess, but thank you for helping me.”

“Anything for you, Daddy,” you said, and Eddie chuckled.

“I’ll see you at school,” he said, and the line went dead.

#bex answers #anon ask #bex's drabbles #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie #perv!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #tw innocent reader

2K notes · View notes

taizi · 7 months

Note

could you write a kid sanji fic like you did with luffy?? like sanji gets whammied with a devil fruit n gets turned back tk his germa years or something??

Sanji wakes up in the infirmary. He lies there for a moment, blinking up at the ceiling. The room is cool and comfortable, a fan blowing gently in the corner and a door wedged open to let in a breeze rich with the salty, briny tang of the sea.

Something about it seems strange. He knows that this is the infirmary, recognizes it somehow, even though it doesn’t look the way it’s supposed to. The last time he was sent to the ship’s medical room, it was barely more than an out-of-the-way broom closet, manned by a grizzly old bear who made it clear he didn’t have time for clumsy trainees and their second-degree burns. There certainly wasn’t room for a proper bed, and if there was, Sanji wouldn’t have been tucked into it so carefully.

Was the wood in The Orbit always this color? he wonders, eyes drifting to stare at the wall nearest his bed. Rich, almost red, each finished plank as smooth as glass.

“Oh,” a voice says, “you’re awake!”

Sanji is very used to strangers. The Orbit is a cruise ship, ferrying hundreds of different customers across the Blues every day. But he’s never seen a person like this before.

It’s a little reindeer, in a pink and blue hat and a fluffy white hoodie with a sheep printed on the front. They hop down from their chair and cross the room to him in an enthusiastic clatter of hooves. Sanji is a runt, according to most of the crewmen on The Orbit and all of his former siblings, but this reindeer is even smaller than him, by almost a foot.

Did they hire a new doctor?

“How are you feeling?” they ask earnestly. “All your labs came back okay and your vitals are strong, but I’m worried you might be coming down with a fever. And I think you were having some bad dreams.”

Sanji blinks, still half-asleep, and decides to humor the little creature. “I feel okay.”

“Good! Let me get you some water and take your temperature again. Then I’ll let the captain in to see you.”

“The captain? Why does he want to see me?” It occurs to him, belatedly, that he might be in trouble. Sanji sits up fast, ignoring the way it makes his head spin, and cries out, “I didn’t mean to!”

The reindeer turns with an insulated water bottle in their tiny hands, brow furrowed beneath their fur. “Didn’t mean to what?”

“I don’t—whatever I did. It was an accident. I can still work.” Don’t send me back. Don’t make me go. He’s frozen with a familiar terror, one he has done his best to outrun but will never outgrow.

He knows it��s silly. He boarded the ship on Cozia and told everyone who asked that he was an orphan. If they decided to go through all the trouble of bringing him home, instead of just kicking him off at the next port, then that would still be leagues away from where Germa Kingdom usually resides in North Blue. They can’t send him back because they don’t know where he’s actually from. No one will ever, ever know. Sanji will never tell.

But he’s afraid anyway.

“You’re not doing anything until I say so,” the reindeer says firmly. “Doctor’s orders! Luffy only wants to see you because he’s worried about you! He’ll say it’s ‘cause he misses your food, but that’s not true. Well, it is true, but it’s not the only thing he misses.”

Sanji isn’t sure he followed all of that, but the reindeer seems pretty certain that the captain isn’t going to storm in here and shout at Sanji or fire him. It’s enough that Sanji is able to release his death-grip on the blanket and accept the water bottle that gets shoved insistently towards him.

Luffy? he wants to ask. The captain of The Orbit is called Chas. And Sanji is only a trainee in the kitchens, hardly allowed to do more than shadow the seasoned chefs. When he does cook, it's for himself, and maybe sometimes the mice that live in the underbelly of the ship. He can’t think of any reason why the captain—or anybody, really—would miss Sanji’s food.

Luffy. The name settles inside of him like the first swallow of warm soup on a blustery winter day. He doesn’t understand it, but he presses his hands to his chest and tries to hold onto it.

When the reindeer is satisfied that Sanji’s sufficiently hydrated and his temperature is normal, they say, “Okay, you wait right here while I go get him. Is there anything you need? Are you hungry?”

Still a little nervous, Sanji shakes his head quickly.

The reindeer makes a dubious “hmmmm” noise like they’re not convinced but they don’t want to argue. They pull the door open the rest of the way and disappear out of it, calling for someone at the top of their lungs.

There’s a lot of noise out there. Sanji tilts his head, trying to listen. He can hear music and laughter. Then he hears the thunder of feet approaching the infirmary at a breakneck pace, and he barely has any time to get scared before a beaming face appears in the doorway.

Oh, that’s Luffy. Sanji knows it’s him right away. He doesn’t know how he knows. It’s the warm soup feeling again.

“SANJI!” the familiar stranger exclaims, bursting inside with wild enthusiasm, like there’s something very wonderful waiting in the medbay somewhere. Sanji is sure there isn’t—it’s just him in here.

But Luffy bounces right onto the bed, sitting cross-legged on top of the soft blankets so that he and Sanji are eye-to-eye.

“Chopper said you woke up! You’ve been asleep for ages. How do you feel?”

“Okay,” Sanji says carefully. Luffy definitely isn’t Captain Chas. So this definitely isn’t the infirmary on The Orbit after all. He must be somewhere else. But how did he get here? And how do they know his name?

“You look okay,” the older boy agrees, leaning in like he’ll be able to tell it’s true just by getting a good look at Sanji’s face. “But there’s no way you’re not hungry! You missed dinner and breakfast and lunch!”

Twisting the blanket in his lap, Sanji says, “I’m really okay.” Judge used to send him away without dinner all the time, for any little thing. It was a punishment Sanji actually preferred, because it was the only one that didn’t leave him bruised or bleeding. Hunger pains are like an old friend to him.

“Nope,” Luffy says suddenly, and leans forward and scoops Sanji right out of the bed. “There’s not a ton of rules on my ship, but the ones we do have are super important. And this rule even belongs to you—no skipping meals, shitheads!”

He adopts a low, slightly husky drawl for that last part, like he’s imitating someone. Sanji is too preoccupied with being picked up, clutching at Luffy’s shoulder and the front of his shirt, to wonder much about that.

“Put me down, please,” he blurts, barely clinging to the manners that were sometimes his only saving grace in Vinsmoke Castle, even though he really wants to flail and shout and kick until he’s dropped or tossed away. Bigger people make him nervous. Bigger people grabbing him makes him nearly black out with fear.

But Luffy just laughs, and it’s a warm, ringing sound. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to listen. And it’s actually not that frightening, after all, being held up by him.

“Can’t,” he declares. “Chopper said you weren’t allowed to get up, which means I have to carry you.”

“The reindeer said you were the captain,” Sanji says suspiciously.

“I am the captain. That means I’m not the doctor, or the shipwright, or the navigator, or the cook. I can’t do any of those things that my nakama can do, that’s why they’re so important. That’s why what Chopper says goes!”

He tosses Sanji up playfully and catches him, the way Sanji has seen guests do with their children sometimes. Luffy’s not big and burly like the deckhands on The Orbit are, but he’s strong. His slim arms feel safe.

Outside, Sanji has to squint through the late afternoon sunlight, lifting a hand to shade his eyes. They’re on the second story of a grand ship deck, coming down the stairs at a brisk clip.

From their seat on a rope swing, the reindeer themself wails, “Luffy! I said he had to stay in bed!”

“Huh? I didn’t hear that part,” Luffy calls back blithely, everything he just told Sanji about listening to his crewmates tossed out on its ear. “We need food! Nami, the fridge!”

“Yes, yes,” a tangerine-haired woman says, sounding put-upon. She folds the paper she’s reading and sets it aside. When her eyes fall on Sanji, she smiles in a way that transforms her whole face. “Hi, there. Iva said you’d be a little confused until the hormones wore off. Do you know me?”

Sanji doesn’t know Iva and he doesn’t know what hormones she’s talking about, but he likes her smile. Everyone on the deck is smiling at him, like they’re happy to see him. He doesn’t understand. No one has been happy to see him since his mom died.

Behind the tangerine-haired woman, there’s a skeleton in a feather boa, strumming absently on a guitar. The bare skull where his face should be is wearing a rictus grin and heart-shaped sunglasses.

It should be a frightening thing to see. Instead, it simply makes everything else make perfect sense.

Oh, Sanji realizes, the worry and confusion in his heart finally settling. This is a dream.

“Guess not,” the woman is saying to a man with a long nose and lots of curly dark hair piled up in a bun, since Sanji never answered her.

“It’s only temporary,” the man replies earnestly, though he sounds a little anxious himself. “We’ll have him back to normal before you know it!”

“We’d better,” a green-haired man says dryly. “If Franky cooks for us again, I may throw myself overboard.”

“Oy! I make boats, not fancy five-course dinners!”

“I can,” Sanji starts to say, forgetting himself. He stops abruptly, covering his mouth with one hand, but it’s too late. Everyone’s already looking at him again. But if it’s a dream, and they’re all dream people, then they won’t mind if he talks out of turn. Testing the waters, he continues carefully, “I can make dinner.”

“You can?” Chopper, the reindeer, asks like it’s some amazing feat. “But you’re so little! You already knew how to cook when you were this little?”

“I’m almost nine,” Sanji says importantly. “That’s practically almost a teenager. That’s almost grown-up.”

“Almost, almost, almost,” a tall woman with a curtain of shimmery black hair murmurs, her voice rich with laughter and openly affectionate.

“Naaamiii,” Luffy whines, unlike Judge or Chas or any other authority figure Sanji has ever met. “Fridge!”

“Well, get a move on then!” she says, turning him by the shoulders and propelling him forward to one of the doors by the stairs. A bunch of the others start to follow, but a sharp look from the green-haired man causes them to stay behind and glare mulishly at him instead.

Even Nami doesn’t linger after unlocking the fridge. She swipes a snack from inside, something in a delicate little crystal dessert cup, then tousles Luffy’s hair playfully, then touches Sanji’s cheek like she’d like to tell him something, but doesn’t know how to make him understand. Then she goes, the galley door swinging shut behind her.

Luffy sits Sanji down on the counter and stands back with his hands on his hips.

“I may not be a cook, but my brothers and I grew up by ourselves most of the time and we didn’t always have someone around to make meals for us,” he declares. “Before Ace went away, he made sure I wouldn’t starve. There’s like three whole things I know how to make really well! So Sanji can tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. What should we cook?”

The name Ace causes a tender pang in Sanji’s chest that he doesn’t understand. It makes him want to check on Luffy and make sure he’s okay, even though he’s standing right in front of Sanji, beaming ear to ear.

He kicks his dangling feet back and forth, glancing around the big kitchen, with its spotless counters and hand-stitched dish towels and the pink apron hanging from one of the cabinet handles. It’s a kitchen that belongs in a home.

He looks back up at Luffy.

“What was your favorite thing to cook with your brothers?”

Barbecued alligator isn’t a viable option for half a dozen reasons, but there’s dark meat chicken in the fridge that will make a neat substitution. Luffy is hapless but enthusiastic. Sanji doesn’t actually trust him with an open flame so once the chicken is seasoned it goes in a big dish to bake in the commercial-sized oven.

The entire kitchen is messy somehow even though they didn’t even use the whole thing. Sanji’s face hurts from smiling.

“I hope you like it,” he says, twisting the dial on a funny tomato-shaped timer. “But you don’t have to eat it if it’s bad.”

Luffy boosts himself up to sit on the counter beside Sanji. Lifting a big bowl of fresh fruits into his lap, he picks out a lychee and begins peeling it with deft fingers.

“Sanji is amazing,” he says plainly. “He’s the best cook in all the Blues and the whole Grand Line. He made a cake so yummy that it stopped a crazy rampage once. I’m really glad he’s mine.”

Reaching over, he takes Sanji’s hand. It’s small and fragile in Luffy’s grasp, and covered in scars, but the young captain doesn’t say anything about any of that.

He puts the peeled lychee in Sanji’s palm, a perfect shining little moon.

“Sanji can’t make anything bad,” Luffy says, utterly certain. “His hands are good.”

It has to be a dream. Most people only get one big miracle in their lives, if they’re lucky, and Sanji had his already—the chance to run to freedom, granted to him by his sister in an uncharacteristic act of kindness he still doesn’t understand.

There’s no way a place like this could really exist, full of people who smile warmly at Sanji and touch him without hurting him, who worry about him when he’s sick and miss him while he’s gone.

Sanji hopes he remembers all of it when he wakes up.

For now he mumbles shyly, “Can we cook together some more?”

‘Together’ ends up meaning together-with-everybody as the rest of the crew refuses to be left out for much longer. Even the green-haired man slinks inside the dining hall eventually. He doesn’t help at all with the tricky lemon blueberry icebox cake that Usopp stubbornly insisted on, but he gamely tastes whatever gets pushed his way. The kitchen becomes even more of a mess than it was before, and there’s flour everywhere and sticky blueberry sauce all over Sanji’s hands, but he hasn’t laughed this much since he was little. Since he could still run off to mom’s room and climb into her big soft bed and curl up with her arms around him, while she told him stories that made the world seem like a smaller, kinder place.

These people don’t make the world seem smaller. They make it seem huge. And Sanji isn’t afraid of it. He doesn’t want to hide. He wants to see the whole thing.

He wants them to be there when he finds All Blue. He thinks maybe he can really, actually find it, if all of them come with him.

(Two nights later, Sanji wakes up overheated and extremely cramped in a bunk not built for two grown men. He bites back a groan at what feels like the remains of a bad hangover and cranes his neck to see who is sprawled out over him like an inconvenient blanket.

Of course it’s his captain, the overgrown kid snoring away with his arms tucked around Sanji’s middle.

Little shit, he thinks, beginning the careful process of extracting himself. He manages to slip out of bed without waking the younger boy up, scowling without real ire at the shameless way Luffy stretches out in his sleep to fully commandeer the whole bunk. Did he have a bad dream? Sanji wonders a second later.

He untangles the blanket and covers his captain with it properly. Lighting a cigarette, a brief flicker of fire in the dark quarters, Sanji lingers just long enough to push a hand through Luffy’s hair.

Whatever happened, it’s nothing a good meal won’t fix.)

#one piece #opfic #black leg sanji #monkey d luffy #nakamaship #my writing #prompt #anonymous #op #yes so this one got away from me #i say to absolutely no one's surprise

132 notes · View notes

manias-wordcount · 9 months

Note

Can I request a Tamaki Suoh x reader?? Reader finds out her parents are getting divorced, and Tamaki finds out. Reader cries while Tamaki offers support and such. Love your account and writing!!

Of Knights and Princesses (Tamaki Suoh x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!! 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

You always loved the Host Club’s garden parties. They reminded you of tea time with your parents back home. But now there is something else lingering on your mind. Something that clouds your sunny day outside. Something that makes all the joy and the laughter around you sound so far away. Something that keeps you from hiding your frown.

“Princess?”

You look up.

It’s just enough time to see your favorite host, Tamaki sliding onto the white garden bench and sitting by your side. You offer up a smile- something light and pleasant and perfectly crafted when you need to keep up appearances. But the blonde right by you doesn’t seem to buy it one bit. No- his frown is too deep and his eyebrows furrow like he’s concerned. The princely aurora he always carries around him is nowhere to be seen. Instead, it’s replaced by something a little more human. A little more quiet and sad and relatable. But most of all, it serves to you as a reminder.

A reminder that things change. A reminder that nothing last forever. Not even princely, perfect boys who never seem to falter. Not even a picture-perfect family that swore to stay together despite every fight. Not even that.

“Tamaki!” You cheer, the same little mask you put on for all your friends and classmates and teachers slipping on in an instant. You lift the teacup from your lap with shaky hands, hoping he wouldn’t notice how the completely full cup almost spills a droplet or two onto your uniform as you place it down on a nearby side table. By the time you fold your hands in your lap and turn back to face him, you have to try very very hard to pretend you didn’t notice how his frown deepens and the concerned look on his face grows ever so slightly. It doesn’t work at all. “It’s nice to see you! I heard you were very busy today so it’s quite a surprise to see you.”

But you keep trying anyways.

For a second he doesn’t speak. He just looks at you- like he’s lost in thought and unable to escape. Just yet at least. It’s unnerving seeing a boy you constantly fawn over showing you his undivided attention in such a foreign way. If it were any other day, you don’t think your heart would have been able to handle such a situation. The moment feels like something you could have only dreamed of. Being alone in a beautiful garden with a handsome boy worrying over you. Showing a side of himself that he keeps away from other girls. All in an effort to address your worries and your fears. Sad eyes without a flirtatious line to follow. Thoughtful silences. And a space between the bench you both share that feels too small. Even if he’s refusing to touch you just yet.

But then he opens his mouth. And he speaks. And he reminds you why this moment would be your greatest dream any other day. But your greatest nightmare as it happens today.

“I’m never too busy to help a princess in need of saving.” He tells you earnestly. Too earnestly. Like he meant every word as his purple eyes brim the type of unspoken understanding you didn’t think you’d ever receive in a place like this. Like if you trusted him- he would really do what he told you he would do. Help you. Save you. Help you. Save you. You take your last breath before the fall. “...also, I heard about your parents.”

But you aren’t even able to pull your gaze away from his fully before you crack.

A tear slips out and rolls against your cheek before you can even take your first breath of new air. The air of acceptance that it’s really happening. That what you’ve been hiding away is about to step out into the light all on its own and sing for the very first time. And as that quiet gasp of yours breaks through, the first tear splashes on top of your hands as they ball into bunched-up fists full of fabric. That first tear is then joined by a little brother, rolling off of your other cheek. And then quickly comes an older sister. And then a mother. And a father. All the aunts and uncles and cousins alike come rushing in as the tears start flowing faster. And soon enough, you’re sobbing into your hands- catching the extended family of tears that flow from your eyes as all you do is cry, cry, cry.

You feel embarrassed. You feel ashamed. You spent your whole life being the perfect daughter in the perfect family. Your parents didn’t have to ever worry about you. You were strong enough to be who you are. You were smart enough to know your lefts from your rights. You were wise enough to know that screaming matches between Mommy and Daddy were best kept as secrets from anyone but yourself and the staff. Yet here you are- blubbering like a little tiny girl. Hating the harsh reality you knew was coming and will now have to face forever. Hating the beautiful moment you share with this boy that will pass by in a second. Because you can’t help but feel it’s tainted by your parent’s changing marital status. Tainted by their lawyers and their drafted contracts over assets and items. Tainted by the talks about what you’d prefer regarding custody. Tainted by your tears. Tainted by a lot of things.

And yet this nightmare?

“There, there…it’s okay…”

It turns into a dream. All because of one simple thing.

“...Cry as much as you need. I’ll keep you safe.”

Him.

“Tamaki…” Your call of his name barely slips out of your throat. All the syllables are shaky as your throat tightens. All the letters quiver as he reaches for your hands and pulls them away from your face. And his entire name spills from your mouth once more as he pulls you into his arms and circles his arms around your waist. Your head falls into his shoulder. His hair tickles your skin. Your arms latch onto his shoulders. You hold him. And you hold him tight. Because all of the walls for protection. All of the masks for privacy. They’re falling off. Tumbling away. And that makes you scared. Of what people will say. Of what people will do. Of what people will know. “W-what if…w-what if someone s-sees you here and-”

“It’s okay, princess.”

You cry harder.

You cry harder into the fabric of his blazer. He smells like flowers. You wonder what type of flowers. You wonder if you smell like tea. But all your wonderings and musings don’t stop the sobs and stuttered apologies that fall out like an endless waterfall. And your sputtered words and salty tears do little to keep Tamaki from squeezing you tighter. Holding you closer. As if the space in the bench between the two of you was too large for him to not conquer. As if the pain in your heart was too much for him to not ignore.

Because you both know that deep down, you truly did need saving. Just for today. Just for a moment. Just for as long as your tears could do nothing but fall. And a little after that too. But luckily…just luckily…

“Let’s just focus on you for a moment, okay?”

There was a certain blonde-haired prince in the garden, ready to play knight in shining armor just for you.

#tamaki suoh x reader #tamaki x reader #ohshc tamaki #ouran tamaki #tamaki suoh #ouran high school host club fanfic #ouran high school host club #ouran highschool host club #ouran highschool host club x reader #ouran highschool host club fanfiction #ohshc x reader #ohshc fanfiction #ohshc fanfic #ohshc #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

87 notes · View notes

ober-affen-geil · 4 months

Text

So like. A few things about episode 5 I really loved.

I think the decision to have Annabeth see the fates, and see them NOW, has very interesting implications. Seeing them now, when the line "fail to save what matters most" is hanging over them gives a lot of tension in the short term. But also knowing long term that the yarn was representing Luke's death, and knowing Annabeth's connection to him, I actually am very interested in the potential long term implication that Annabeth will be more directly involved with that specific plot payoff.

"What is love" playing and percy saying he thinks he heard it in an orthodontists office once dealt me so much psychic damage omg.

Ares starting flame wars on Twitter was chefs kiss.

Grover earnestly saying "I'm 24" to an immortal was really fucking funny. Also I think it's very interesting they are planting the seeds that ares is manipulateable in this way.

"I'm ok. I'm ok." WELL IM NOT

Hepheastus casting was flawless. Perfect. I almost cried seeing him on screen it was excellent.

Final note: Rick Riordan took 5 books to say that breaking the cycle of abuse was what pjo was about, here we have dropped all pretense and are just going ham and tbh I love it.

#Pjo #Pjo spoilers #Percy jackson and the olympians

12 notes · View notes

faintingheroine · 7 months

Text

“Though I could not but suspect, I was still surprised to discover that they were a mass of correspondence—daily almost, it must have been—from Linton Heathcliff: answers to documents forwarded by her. The earlier dated were embarrassed and short; gradually, however, they expanded into copious love-letters, foolish, as the age of the writer rendered natural, yet with touches here and there which I thought were borrowed from a more experienced source. Some of them struck me as singularly odd compounds of ardour and flatness; commencing in strong feeling, and concluding in the affected, wordy style that a schoolboy might use to a fancied, incorporeal sweetheart.”

(Chapter 21)

“For shame! and you must have led the way in writing such absurdities: he would not have thought of beginning, I’m certain.’

‘I didn’t! I didn’t!’ sobbed Cathy, fit to break her heart. ‘I didn’t once think of loving him till—’

‘Loving!’ cried I, as scornfully as I could utter the word. ‘Loving! Did anybody ever hear the like! I might just as well talk of loving the miller who comes once a year to buy our corn. Pretty loving, indeed! and both times together you have seen Linton hardly four hours in your life! Now here is the babyish trash. I’m going with it to the library; and we’ll see what your father says to such loving.’

She sprang at her precious epistles, but I hold them above my head; and then she poured out further frantic entreaties that I would burn them—do anything rather than show them. And being really fully as much inclined to laugh as scold—for I esteemed it all girlish vanity—I at length relented in a measure, and asked ‘If I consent to burn them, will you promise faithfully neither to send nor receive a letter again, nor a book (for I perceive you have sent him books), nor locks of hair, nor rings, nor playthings?’

‘We don’t send playthings,’ cried Catherine, her pride overcoming her shame.

‘Nor anything at all, then, my lady?’ I said. ‘Unless you will, here I go.’

‘I promise, Ellen!’ she cried, catching my dress. ‘Oh, put them in the fire, do, do!’

But when I proceeded to open a place with the poker the sacrifice was too painful to be borne. She earnestly supplicated that I would spare her one or two.

‘One or two, Ellen, to keep for Linton’s sake!’

I unknotted the handkerchief, and commenced dropping them in from an angle, and the flame curled up the chimney.

‘I will have one, you cruel wretch!’ she screamed, darting her hand into the fire, and drawing forth some half-consumed fragments, at the expense of her fingers.

(Chapter 21)

(Italics mine)

I think we overlook how creepy it is that Cathy Linton essentially had her sexual awakening through letters dictated by Heathcliff.

#wuthering heights #cathy linton #heathcliff

24 notes · View notes

boxwinebaddie · 1 month

Note

PUNK ROCK COVER OF NIGHT SHIFT DURING THE RAVESEY DIVORCE????? MAYBE??

OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOD BITCH!!!!!

( i’m crying already )

no, this is a stroke of genius. holy shit, no jokes, after my break up i listened to night shift on fifteen hour loops, scream sobbing until my throat was rubbed raw and i feel like ravenstan was probably the same. worse tbh.

but i just know it was hauntingly beautiful and absolutely fucking devastating. i know that first high note was grisly and VISCERAL. like you could hear that pain and felt it. ugh. unfortunately, i do think he cried and had a stannic attack, probably just because he was rlly sad,

but also bc lots of fans, understandably, are now sad, miserable children of divorce ( rip ravesey ), however, are holding out hope of their getting back together, so there’s still lots of ravesey signs, teeshirts, pictures of their faces in the audience, honestly, lots of people dressed like them, but i think he either caught a glimpse of someone tall with red hair or thought he heard kyle’s voice bc his synesthesia did The Thing but i think it was just someone playing a tiktok really close to him…

but uh, yeah, he had a major anxiety attack and had to cancel the rest of the show, which means stan didn’t get to hold a q&rae w/ his fans at the end of that concert which means…no one got to give raven…

….a jersey conjecture.

i’ll give it a better name later, it probably is some something in spanish that has to do with a question, or asking something and yérsey — i just made it a lawyer term bc stan was being extra salty, but i have this brutal hc that after jerseykyle and ravenstan broke up, he could not get through concerts or take any fan questions because it was all people talking over eachother and specifically people rapid firing questions about kyle and them breaking up…which was extremely stressful.

but when you’re a famous rockstar in a highly publicized extremely well loved relationship and break up, that sort of thing is bound to happen. there was no preventing it

…but he could control it.

so, what raven decided to do was that every q&rae he was going to randomly pull like a ticket or a seat number and that person and that person only ( if they so pleased ) could ask him ONE jersey question. stan at this point is also really pissed and blistery and bitter and probably on a sad boy bad boy bender, so he answers them really passive aggressively. like if someone asks him ‘if stan has anything he wants to tell him’ stan will say something to the effect of ‘we’re out of toliet paper.’

( also this entire thing is a very jersey thing to do, me thinks? i think it’s out of spite, him trying to prove he’s unbothered when he’s so fucking bothered also he is really, really bad at acting aloof and austere — but the alcohol helps :/ also kyle does roll his eyes and say it’s immature like he’s not out here answering one stan question a day…but he’s kind of a hypocrite bc stan blocked him everywhere so pretty much their only line of communication is thru the stuff he says during concerts or things he says in interviews…they are messy smh )

also people get really mad if someone asks something stupid like “woah, wait i get to ask the kyle question?” like woops now you don’t! or asks him whether they’re getting back together instead of asking an actual useful question!!!! the people are Committed to ravesey!!!!

but yeah, most of the time stan be answering them in riddles or like someone’s defiant teenager following a shot, but every once and a while he face cracks. because a lot of the time people ask really stupid shit but i think a girl asked him, very earnestly ‘do you still love him?’ and stan opened his mouth, almost said yes and then said

“it doesn’t matter.” :)

—uncle nina, in hell

#i have no idea how this headstannon came to fruition #but it was too chaotic stan needed a system #he was also really hurt and acting out #i think in his head it was very like #if kyle wants to pretend like he’s in love with me when he’s not #i guess i can pretend to hate him when i don’t #im in hell #i know kyle sits there and refreshes the grainy ass reels of those people put on snap #but yeah he will answer anything else really normal #but if u ask him abt kyle he’s short with u #and pretends to be unbothered #he’s so bothered omg #i need someone to pass a jersey conjecture onto actual jersey #but yeah i didn’t talk abt it but kyle was hella quiet and retreated inward during the divorce #and stan was all over the tabloids acting a fucking fool being a bitter betty #on legitimately his worst behavior like that was antistan he was hurt hurt #it was scary

8 notes · View notes

lorilane33 · 11 months

Text

FanExpo Dallas Write Up

So I went to FanExpo in Dallas yesterday 6-10-23, and it was one of the best days of my life! 🥺 I really went because I wanted to meet Jon Bernthal, and he happened to be within a car drive of me. But Gabriel Luna reminded me why I fell in love with him in the first place when he played Robbie Reyes in Agents of SHIELD, and I’m so glad I followed my gut and met him too. Oof. My heart 😩💜

Random cute guy in line with me named Jacob and I bonded over the Punisher while we were waiting in line to meet Jon. I feel like we were getting along fabulously. As we got to the table to pay for our stuff, I pulled out my photo op with Charlie and Jon to put my sticky note with my name on it. Jacob saw it and leaned into to me, telling me “I think that’s a really good photo. Not to pry or anything, but it’s really cool.” I then explained to him why I did it and he immediately turned back around to me and said, “well your parents are idiots if they can’t be proud of every part of you. And that was a brave thing to do.” 😩 you guys he was so sweet.

Jon Bernthal

I’m 100% positive Jon Bernthal is the first actor I’ve met to make my brain stop working almost completely. I was absolutely on the verge of crying to the point of me grimacing in the photo, but I walked up to him with my bi pride flag and explained to him that my parents will never be proud of this part of my life. I want to make a statement with people who are proud of me. He made sure to double check with me that it was right side up because he wanted to do it right, however we all see how well that went over because my own pride flag was upside down 🤣🤷🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ We then turn to the camera and take it, and as he’s handing me my flag back he looks me very earnestly in the eyes and said, “well I am proud of you, sweetheart.” I swear I was fine until that very moment. He’s an intimidating man, and it was hard for me to look him in the eyes for very long. He absolutely murdered me.

I had a duo photo op with him and Charlie as well, and because I looked so not happy in the first one, and my flag was upside down, I decided to redo it with them. I walked up to Charlie and even though this was the first time I was seeing him I said, “I almost cried in my last photo so I want to fix it.” He gladly took the the corner of the flag from me, and I stood between them with Jon on my other side holding it again. Jon looked at me and smiled and said “thank you,” and Charlie gave me a very genuine smile and said, “thanks for being here,” as he handed me my flag back. It turned out so well and I’m so glad I redid it. 🥺 Charlie looks like such a goober and I love it 😂

I’m also so happy the handlers and Jon decided to let us get in line for his autos after his afternoon of photo ops at 6. They had ticketed people who were cut off when he had to leave for his panel that they had to honor first, and they originally were only going to do those and no more because everything shut down at 7. But there weren’t really that many people waiting to be in line behind them so they decided to let us in. We had a short convo and I thanked him for everything, and then he signed my photo op with him and Charlie. I walked away and that was that. I couldn’t have asked for a better interaction with him. Frank has come to mean so much to me, and I’m so happy the man portraying him is just as great. 💜

Gabriel Luna

He was so chill at his table, he was out in the line talking to the people waiting, and he took someone's FaceTime call. I had a chance to talk to him about how Nic Cage may have introduced the character of Ghost Rider to me as a kid, but his portrayal of Robbie Reyes cemented my love of Ghost Rider, and we ended up having a really good conversation about him. 🥺 then I mentioned that him in the Last of Us brought him back to me started him on a whole new discussion about that show and how hard we both think it is to like the second part of the video game 😆 we took some selfies, and during it he told me I had really great hair, but then corrected himself and said, “Oh wait. We both have really great hair.” I hugged him and said I had to go get in line for his photo op but I’d see him over there. He said "okay, and seriously your hair is great!" as I walked away.

His face lit up when he saw I was next in the line for a photo op, and when I got up to him he grabbed my left hand like we were dancing to pull my arm out so he could look at the tattoo that was there (it says ‘you are not alone, and is signed my another actor I met in 2018) 🥰 he said that’s really good advice to yourself, and then we faced the camera. I accidentally blinked when we did our first photo, so I got pulled out of the exiting line to go back and redo it. I’m honestly okay with that because as great as it was holding his hand i think it would have looked odd lol I walked back into the booth he was in and his back was to me, talking to the other people in the room. Once he realized I’d walked in he turned to me and smugly said “Oh! So you’re my blinker 😏” he was happy it was me! I immediately replied, “yeah. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose though,” and the whole room laughed 😆 so he pulled me in for another pic, and after he was done he gave me a really big hug, took my hands and looked very earnestly into my eyes when he told me “but for real, your hair is fantastic and you need to know that.” I said “you too, thank you again for everything.” We said goodbyes and I left. 🥰

I can’t say enough good things about Gabriel. Holy shit. He’s so kind and generous with his time, and cares about all of us so much!

#marvel #jon bernthal #frank castle #the punisher #gabriel luna #tommy miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #robbie reyes #agents of shield #ghost rider #charlie cox #daredevil #matt murdock

27 notes · View notes

ladytanithia · 9 months

Text

WIP whenever

OK, it's not Wednesday yet, but I'm going to be busy tomorrow so just in case... tagged by @gwilin-stay-winnin

tagging @mareenavee @dirty-bosmer @thequeenofthewinter @skyrim-forever - no pressure, you can wait until tomorrow or a different whenever! :-D

Working on so many things right now, but this was the most recent thing I had my fingers in. A possible chapter for Miranja's distant (like 20+ years from now) future. A meeting with someone she'll never meet in-game, because she's too nice to do the quest involved.

“Here to kill me and claim my place as Boethiah’s Champion?” The red-headed Dunmer had already risen to his feet and picked up his battle-axe from the table, gripping it with both hands and leveling it to one side as he spoke. His dark armor radiated a sinister black mist that seemed alive.

Of course, Miranja being herself, the thought crossed her mind, however briefly, that this was a handsome Dunmer man, and she hated killing Dunmer, but it was the world-weary way he prepared to defend himself that really gave Miranja pause. It was almost as if he had been expecting her, and his putting up a fight was purely de rigueur. He was a reflection of her, and she almost felt guilty about bursting in on him in what had seemed a moment of deep contemplation.

Lower your weapon, my daughter, came a tiny, quiet, calm voice in the back of her mind.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa!” she cried, dropping her sword with a clatter and raising her empty hands in front of her.

The Dunmer paused in his attack, just before he began the swing of his battle-axe toward her. He looked at her in expectant confusion and curiosity, but still held his weapon at the ready.

“I don’t want to have to fight you or kill you,” Miranja told him earnestly.

“Well, that’s not what I expected,” he stated in bemusement. “You mean you weren’t sent by Boethiah?”

“Boethiah?” Miranja exclaimed in obvious distaste. “I’m sure if Boethiah did want me to do some sort of favor, it would be something horrific. Not that I would ever deal with such a cold, heartless daedra. I still don’t understand why you Dunmer worship her, unless it’s out of fear. No, I’m here because the Jarl issued a bounty to clear the bandits from this place. What was that you said about her champion?”

“As far as I know, I’m still her current Champion,” he replied, finally lowering his weapon and returning it to the table. His armor seemed to have returned to normal, no trace remaining of the curling black tendrils of vapor. He turned back to her, looking her up and down now that the moment of fight or flight had passed. “But I’m sure she’s grown bored with me and is seeking a new Champion, if she hasn’t already found one and sent them to end me.”

“You don’t seem like you’re afraid to die,” Miranja commented, thinking of his air of resignation when he’d thought she was his enemy and potential murderer. “But it almost seems like you’re hiding here.”

“A man who feels no fear has no heart,” the Champion stated with a note of annoyance in his voice, as if Miranja must be daft. “I know fear. I just don’t let it control me. As for hiding, I suppose it would appear that way. I don’t see it as hiding, but maybe I’m lying to myself on that count. I’m just trying to live out what’s left of my life in relative peace.”

He returned to the table and sat back down, and Miranja followed, standing behind the vacant chair perpendicular to his, feeling she should wait for an invitation to sit.

“Boethiah speaks of leaving your mark, a sign of your passing.”

Miranja nodded. “Carve your will upon the world with tongues and blades. I’ve been to the sacellum in the Velothi mountains in Eastmarch. The priestess there told me that if I wanted to see Boethiah, I had to trick someone into trusting me and then lead them there and sacrifice them. I could never do such a thing. I watched two of her followers fight each other to the death, and it seemed pointlessly tragic.”

“Indeed,” agreed the Champion. He motioned to her to sit, and she did. “There are other ways, better ways, to leave your mark on the world. I was finished with Boethiah long ago. There’s enough blood on these hands. I’ve realized that I have a talent for smithing, and I find it calming and satisfying. There’s a fulfillment in creating things, knowing that the armor I’m making is saving people’s lives, changing their destinies, and their families’ lives and destinies by extension.” He held his hands up before himself, seeing their potential for both destruction and creation. Miranja saw it, too, and found herself longing to touch those hands.

#skyrim #elder scrolls #miranja #fanfic #ao3 #tesblr #dunmer #champion of boethiah #tanithia writes

8 notes · View notes

xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 years

Note

Absolutly loved your aftercare with Jason when reader used their safe word. I feel like especially in fanfic, a lot of smut treats safe words almost like something to be ashamed of using, rather than a healthy form of communication. So I really appreciate the subtle messaging there!

With that being said - could I request a safe word usage aftercare with Bruce? Thanks!

"Red. Fuck. Red. I can't-" The panting breaths break into sobs and Bruce's hands still instantly.

"Hold on," he rumbled, his voice gentling from the growl it had sunk to. "Sweetheart, shh, it's okay." He deftly untied you, stroking your hair as you laid there and cried. When you didn't flinch away from the touch he nodded. Catharsis not fear. That was good. He let you roll onto your side, hugging a pillow. And for a while, he didn't say anything. You were vulnerable, fragile. And words, he found, had a way of being misunderstood. The smallest change in his tone could hurt you. He sat next to you, stroking your hair, your neck and shoulders. Careful to keep his touch soft and firm. Reminding you that he was there when you were ready.

He'd been rough. Demanding. Quick to dole out punishments tonight. His own worry and stress needing a place to go, channeled into pushing you harder than he usually did. When you start to quiet, sobs turning to whimpers and sniffles, he kisses your temple. "Be right back, okay?"

"Okay."

Quickly he started the bath. Adding bubbles and lighting a few candles before running cold water over a washcloth for your face. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, his voice gentle as he scooped you into his lap.

When you shake your head, he kisses your forehead, frowning at how hot your skin felt. "Lemme see," he breathed, tilting your chin up gently, his frown deepening when you don't meet his eyes as he dabs at your face.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, wiggling to get up when you notice him frowning. And Bruce tightens his grip to hold you, assuming, correctly, that you were tired and had some muscle fatigue from all the tension you'd been holding and releasing.

"Why are you sorry," he tutted,"You did so good for me, sweetheart. You let me love you so good- and you let go of all that stuff-" he broke off and bent to smudge a soft kiss against your heart. "And you did it for me. It's okay."

"Bruce I-"

"No more sorry," he hummed, rocking you. "You did what you were supposed to do. You stopped me when it was too much."

"But I didn't-" you break off and look away, embarrarsed.

"Didn't what?" he pressed, kissing your heart again.

"I didn't take care of you."

Bruce laughed softly and kissed your temple again, "You were out of it," he rumbled, gently pushing your thighs, figuring now is as good a time as any to clean you up. showing you his come where it ws still leaking out of you. "Sweetheart, even if you didn't. I'm a big boy. You're giving me your body on loan, and you can take it back any time you want. It's not your job. Understand?"

He tilts your chin up and kisses your nose, satisfied when you nod, looking shy. "Good," he rumbled. "Now. It's time for a bath and some lotion- you're gonna have bruises."

"Bad ones?"

"Maybe in a couple places," he hummed, tilting your head to inspect a bite mark on your shoulder. "But mostly on your bottom, I think."

"Can I have a booty rub?" you yawn, snuggling into his warmth, basking in feeling safe now that the first tide of emotion had receeded.

"You can have whatever you want," he rumbled earnestly. "All you need to do is ask."

"Kisses?"

And when he smiled, peppering sweet kisses over your face, his heart fluttered when you giggled. You were going to be fine. You just needed reminded- that you were loved. That you were safe. And that you were his, not just to play with but to protect and adore.

#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #anon ask #anon answered #minors dni #aftercare

113 notes · View notes

camille-lachenille · 1 year

Text

Day 3 of All of Arda is Autistic 2023:

Prompt: Cooking/comfort item

Rating: Gen

CW: autistic meltdown

Ellalwen is my OC for Elrohir’s son, and the twin brother of Elneldor. In this ficlet he is the Elven equivalent of a three years old

The peaceful evening of Imladris was disturbed by a loud, desperate wail, the likes only a distressed child could produce. Elrond immediately dropped the ledger he was holding and ran to Elrohir’s chambers where the sound came from. There, he found his son crouched in front of a sobbing elfling. Ellalwen’s face was red and scrunched as he cried with the full strength of his little lungs, and tears streamed down his chubby cheeks. “Want Bi’bo!” he repeated in-between the sobs.

“Do I need to go and fetch Bilbo? Elrond asked quietly, resting a hand on Elrohir’s shoulder, already sorry to disturb the elderly Hobbit. Elrohir son glanced up and smiled warily.

“There’s no need, Bilbo is his plushie. Dan took Elneldor and the girls to look for it.” he explained quickly before returning his attention to his distressed son. Elrond closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose. The stuffed unicorn, a gift fron the resident Hobbit of Imladris, was the only thing that comforted Ellalwen at night and its disappearance meant he wouldn’t sleep until it was found again.

“Well, maybe Bilbo the Hobbit would know where Bilbo the unicorn is. I recall he spent the afternoon with the children…” he proposed at last, as his son tried to confort Ellalwen without touching him.

“Maybe… if you could go to him, please,” Elrohir answered distractedly. But as Elrond was to leave the room, someone knocked on the door and Bilbo Baggins himself slipped in.

“Good evening my friends. I found this critter sitting on my bed and came as quickly as possible,” the Hobbit said with a kind smile, holding a stuffed unicorn out. Ellalwen looked up, still crying, and made grabby hands at the plushie. Bilbo hobbled toward him and put his namesake in the elfling’s arms. “He missed you a lot, I think.” he said gently, and Ellalwen nodded, his face already buried in the unicorn’s fluffy back. He was still shaking but not wailing anymore and Elrond saw how Elrohir relaxed at the sight.

“Thank you, Bilbo, you are a saviour. And I am sorry for the bother, really.” the younger Elf said, relief clear on his face.

“Oh, none of that!” the elderly Hobbit brushed off. “I have much practise with various relatives’s children. And my dear Frodo-lad had many a similar episode when he was little. Now, I wonder if he still have this old blanket he used to drag everywhere… but I digress, my friends! I bid you a good night, especially you Ellalwen-lad!”

With a last wave of the hand, Bilbo left the room. Elrohir was smiling earnestly now, and Elrond sat on the floor next to him, waiting for the elfling to calm down from his meltdown. After a few more minutes, Ellalwen lifted his blotchy face from his plushie and crawled to Elrohir, who immediately scooped him in a tight hug. “There now, you are safe. Your Bilbo is here,” he said soothingly, almost humming the words. “Hug him tight and close your eyes, pîn nín, it is time to sleep.” Ellalwen rubbed his cheek against the plushie, nodding sluggishly at his father’s words and already dozing off, exhausted by this episode.

Elrond stood up, pressed a light kiss to Elrohir’s head and silently left the room. He had an order for half a dozed stuffed unicorns to send to Dale, now. Just in case.

#all of arda is autistic 2023 #tolkien #lord of the rings #elflings #original character #original child character #elrond #elrohir #bilbo baggins #autistic meltdown #comfort item #ficlet #writing prompt #autism acceptance month

13 notes · View notes

hummingbird-of-light · 10 months

Text

Against All Odds

Part 569

McCoy

McCoy watched Robbie walk away for a moment before turning to make his own way to the student lounge. It was pretty empty for a Saturday morning and McCoy had his choice of seats. He chose his favorite couch spot and relaxed back into the cushions with his thoughts.

Moments later those thoughts were broken as Jaylah threw herself down next to him.

“Oh Just Leonard,” she cried. “I will fail history, I am sure!”

McCoy held back a chuckle at the dramatics of the alien girl.

“No you won’t sweetheart,” he said reassuringly. “Everything you’ve had me help you with you’ve aced!”

“But you were there! On my own…” Jaylah looked mournful and shook her head.

“You’ll be fine,” McCoy emphasized. He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “You’re going to pass.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” McCoy said firmly. “I know you will.”

Jaylah made a sound like a sigh, but didn’t protest again.

“What are you doing today, Just Leonard?” Jaylah finally asked.

“Don’t know,” he answered. “Waiting for band practice to be over. Told Robbie I’d be up for something when he finishes a call.”

Jaylah sat up from where she had slumped against him and turned slightly.

“Who does Robbie call? He disappears so early in the evenings now but he never says why.”

McCoy’s eyes widened slightly.

“Why do you think he’s calling someone?” McCoy asked carefully.

Jaylah gave McCoy a firm look.

“Robbie always used to stay until nearly curfew. Now he watches the clock and leaves at nearly the same time every night. Who is it?”

McCoy swallowed. It wasn’t his secret to reveal.

“Why don’t you just ask him?”

Jaylah let out a huff and frowned at him.

“Would he tell me?” she countered.

“Why do you think I know?”

Jaylah grinned suddenly. “Because you won’t answer my questions.”

“Maybe because I don’t know either.”

“You lie,” Jaylah stated. “I see it in your eyes.”

“It’s not for me to say,” McCoy said quietly. “Ask him if you want to know; if he’ll tell you.”

Jaylah nodded at him. At least that’s what McCoy thought until she spoke again.

“I know,” she whispered at him. “It’s your princess sister isn’t it?”

McCoy desperately tried not to show anything on his face.

“Ask Robbie. It’s his business.”

“What are you two up to?” Christine’s voice hit them as she sat down on McCoy’s other side.

“Nothing,” McCoy said, trying to sound normal as he turned to her. “Trying to decide what to do until the band is done.”

“I should study my history,” Jaylah said, beginning to stand.

“No, no,” said Christine quickly. “Let’s have some fun. Play a game or something!”

“Yeah. Come on Jaylah; we’ll play cards,” McCoy agreed. “I’ll let you win.” He smiled at her.

“Let me—!” Jaylah stood over him fiercely. “I can win without help!”

They were two rounds into a game when Robbie arrived in the lounge. McCoy quickly waved him over.

“Everything good?” he asked, trying to read Robbie’s face. The younger boy’s eyes looked less fearful than they had when he had left breakfast.

Robbie nodded as he sat.

“Anything you need,” Christine said earnestly, “let us know how we can help.”

“Thanks Chris,” Robbie said.

Part 570

Scotty

"Scotty, that was a great rehearsal!"

Uhura followed Scotty and together they left the music room.

"Aye, it really was."

Rehearsals were in full swing for the upcoming performance, which would take place before winter break. And as always, everyone was on their best behavior.

Well... almost everyone. Neither Kati nor Khan were there. It was unusual to play the familiar pieces without the flute.

"I'm sure the performance will be great!" a voice sounded behind Scotty, and Chekov and Sulu quickly joined them.

Scotty smiled gently.

"I'm sure it will."

As much as he tried to focus on the good events, the situation with Robbie was on his mind. Uhura seemed to notice.

"Are you okay?"

She put a hand on his arm and looked at him worriedly.

"I'm... I'm just worried."

"About Robbie?"

Chekov's face, which was on his other side, reflected the same concern. Scotty nodded.

"Aye."

"Maybe we should try to distract him as best we can," Sulu suggested, and suggestions for ventures were immediately thrown around.

Scotty listened to everything, nodding in understanding, but nothing really convinced him.

"Robbie?"

Scotty was surprised to find his little brother at the pool table with Leonard, Jaylah and Christine. He had thought he was on the phone with Leah. Then again, their rehearsal had taken longer than expected and maybe Robbie was just done talking already.

"Scotty, hey."

"There you guys are finally! What took you so long, Montgomery Scotty?"

Jaylah looked at him almost reproachfully, and he knew why. He had promised to help her with a project.

"Sorry, lassie. Rehearsal took a little longer, but now we're ready to go."

Scotty looked around and spotted Keenser on the couch with a book.

"I'm sure Keens will help us, too. Ye can go ahead and ask."

Jaylah nodded and left the group. That gave Scotty enough time to talk briefly with Robbie.

"How are ye doing? Are ye okay?"

His little brother shrugged.

"As well as can be expected."

"And... yer phone call?"

Robbie nodded.

"It... it went fine. But... it hurts to be apart after everything."

Scotty could imagine that all too well.

He was about to retort something when a familiar voice sounded from the door to the lounge.

"Guys?"

It was Jim and Spock.

"Pike wants to see us."

The friends exchanged surprised looks. What was going on? Why would the headmaster want to see them all?

Slowly, they all got up and started moving.

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #against all odds

4 notes · View notes

haikyuuuuuhypeeeee · 2 years

Text

“The Rainbow Bridge”

Miya Atsumu x Reader, Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader, Akaashi Keiji x Reader (2.8k wc)

⚠️WARNING (PLEASE HEED): Hurt, mentions of pet death, grief, bereavement, comfort

REQUEST: I have to put my dog down today sadly, so I’d like it be comfort for that topic

A/N: I received this comfort request and while my requests are closed I had to write it. Losing any pet is more than losing the animal - it’s losing the family member who is there for you and will never judge you. I just want to warn that this is REALLY sad (I cried writing it) - so please do not read if mentions of a pet passing away is going to trigger you.

MIYA ATSUMU

Atsumu loved your dog nearly as much as you did

And honestly some days you weren’t sure if it was YOUR dog or his

(But of course it changed when you both moved in together and your dog became our dog)

She was an old girl, going blind in one eye, and had a bad limp, but she was your baby

She was there for you when you were sad, she ran through the tall grass and brought home a collection of sticks on walks

It was years of joy and companionship - maybe even more than what Atsumu gave you

That joy tripled when the long walks had the addition of Atsumu racing your dog down the path, or solitary snuggles became cuddle piles with you, Atsumu and your dog together on the couch or bed

But life moves on, we grow older, our bodies change

And because life is cruel, your dog’s painfully short time on Earth had come to an end

It was the most difficult decision you had to make - the vet offered surgery to prolong her life, medication that would maybe make her joints ache less

But you knew it was her time

When you had set the appointment with your vet, you immediately called Atsumu after - he thought you’d been shot when you just started sobbing on the phone

But as soon as he realized what happened he left practice early, claiming a family emergency, and raced home

He would skip practice until the day of the appointment, being a solid presence at your side and spending as much time with his precious baby as he could

(Part of you always hated how much Atsumu played up his love for your dog over you, but you also knew that he needed this time to grieve)

The day finally came - one last drive together, a short visit inside, and then you and Atsumu were on your way back to an empty apartment

Opening the door to your shared apartment was worse than you had imagined.

Besides your eyes being bloodshot and your nose rubbed raw - the silence you were met with was agonizing. No quick footsteps racing to the front door. No happy barks and tail wagging. The emptiness in your home almost matches the emptiness you feel in your chest, and more tears spring from your eyes.

“It’s okay honey,” Atsumu gently ushers you inside, helping you take your jacket off and remove your shoes. He closes the front door, locks it, and leads you to the couch to sit. You go automatically, no energy to complain.

Atsumu has been the best support for you. He let you spend as much time with your dog the as possible, handling the cooking and cleaning and organizing. He cleared out your dog’s bed, toys, food dish - anything that would remind you of your best friend. He was quiet and thoughtful and what you needed.

You wish you could say you were the same for him - especially since he too is taking the loss hard. But your head is filled with pain and sadness, your heart too heavy to care of anything else.

“Here,” Atsumu comes back into the living room, handing you a mug of tea before sitting down with his own. A box of tissues appears on the coffee table and Atsumu doesn’t hesitate to grab a few from the box and keep them in his hand.

“You don’t have to hold them for me,” you murmur.

“I don’t mind,” Atsumu says back just a quietly. “It may also be for me too.”

More pain pangs at your heart and you turn to face your boyfriend. His eyes have been red-rimmed since waking up this morning, a persistent sniffle plaguing his nose.

“I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “I haven’t been the partner you need right now, especially since you’ve been so kind and helpful to me.”

“Don’t apologize Y/N.” Atsumu meets your eyes with an intense look, only diminished by the grief in his own eyes. “I had the honor of knowing your dog for the past few years, but she was - is - your baby. It’s not going to be easy. And besides, having you here by my side has helped more than you could ever know.”

His words - their meaning, his gentle voice, the arm he puts around you - brings another batch of tears and you feel the sobs building in your throat. Atsumu moves to take your mug, set it on the coffee table, and pull you into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he whispers as you cry against him. “It’s alright, this is hard. I’m so sorry.”

They sound like empty words but you hear the hurt in his voice. And you understand what he means by having him close to keep you together. It won’t automatically heal the hole in your heart, but it’s a start.

KUROO TESTSURO

The passing of your pet cat hit you and Kuroo hard

You had both found him, a tiny little thing, sad and alone and crying

Kuroo immediately went to him, while you checked to see if a momma cat was hiding anywhere

But after chatting with the shop keeper she informed you that the momma cat hasn’t been seen for three days now

That’s all the information Kuroo needs before he scoops up the little black ball of fur, gently wrapping his raincoat around him, and bringing him home

And the rest was history - a history of Kuroo napping in sun spots with your cat, buying a backpack to take him on walks (a leash did NOT work), importing special treats from other countries

Kuroo and him were inseparable - you loved your cat too, but he would instantly leave you and wind himself around Kuroo’s legs the second Kuroo entered the room

You have many pictures in your phone of Kuroo and your cat playing together, and your shared apartment was littered with toys and catnip and a cat tree, proudly assembled by Kuroo himself

(Who justified your cat’s behavior when the animal took to the boxes the tree came in, as if he didn’t spend 2+ hours assembling the monstrous piece)

In Kuroo’s eyes, his cat could do no wrong. He’d defend his “son” forever

Until the day came that your cat passed away

He wasn’t young but it was still far too soon - and adjusting to a life without him was difficult

Kuroo was there for you at every step with a tissue and a hug - you couldn’t imagine how hard it must be for him also

And yet he was keeping himself fairly well composed

He wasn’t emotionless, but he focused on taking care of you and transitioning to a world without his shadow

It was admirable, but you knew sooner or later he would break

You’re not sure what made you wake up, but as soon as you heard the faintest of sniffles you were wide awake.

What is that? Your sleep-addled brain couldn’t place the sound - it wasn’t until you heard a quiet sob that you realized what was happening.

You sat up in the dark, reaching out for your partner Kuroo. Under your grip he froze, sniffling loudly.

“Y/N?” From his tone you could tell he was holding back tears - his usual lazy drawl was clipped, and the low pitch in which he spoke at was higher.

“Tetsu,” you whisper, turning so you’re closer and able to wrap an arm around his wide shoulders. It’s the simple touch that brings Kuroo to tears, and he sags against you instantly. His sobs, nearly silent before, double in their volume as he falls apart against your chest.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, petting his bed head as he continues to cry. “Let it all out, it’s alright.”

“I miss him,” Kuroo cries. He’s clutching at your shirt desperately, his tears soaking through the material. “I miss him so much.”

The anguish in his voice is a lance to your heart, and you feel tears form in your own eyes. Not only from missing your feline friend, but also from how much your partner is hurting right now.

“I do too,” you tell him. Your sentence is punctuated with a sniffle. “I miss coming home to him yowling like we were gone for years, or when he would try to trip us up until we lifted him.”

Kuroo choked back a sob. “Or when he would track kitty litter across the house, or vomit in my shoes.” His voice breaks on the last word, and it takes a second before he speaks again. “Even when he was a little shit he was the best.”

You hum, kissing Kuroo’s temple as you continue to hold him. “He was our shit, but he was also sweet and cared for us.” Another soft cry from Kuroo brings one of your hands to his hair compulsively. “And I know that he loved us just as much as we loved him. That’s why it hurts so much.”

Tears start to flow down your face, but it’s nothing compared to the fresh cries that Kuroo lets out at your words. And while you both sit in bed, crying and holding each other, you know that nights like tonight will come again. Maybe it will be Kuroo crying, maybe it’ll be only you. But you promise now to be there for him, as he’s always been there for you.

AKAASHI KEIJI

It’s been a rough few weeks since losing your dog

Akaashi has done everything he could to make you feel better - prepping meals, holding you, spending time outside of the house to keep your mind occupied

Even his best friend Bokuto Koutarou came over to spend time with you - Akaashi was sure that an afternoon with the bombastic man would cheer up even the saddest man in the world

But ever since you lost your furry companion, you’ve been different

Akaashi would never ask you to return to normal at his convenience, knowing that a traumatic experience and loss can change people forever

It just hurts that you seem to be going through the motions, and there’s nothing that he can do about it

You’ve told him several times that he’s doing plenty, but that’s not enough for Akaashi

It’s not until he comes across something on the internet that he gets an idea

See when you came home from the fated vet appointment, the first thing you did was box everything up that belonged to your dog

The leash hanging by the door was gone, the pet bed, dishes for food and water, the toys - everything packed away to be donated or thrown out

Even some photos tacked to the fridge were taken down - Akaashi was too scared to ask whether or not you had thrown them out

He guessed that this was your way of moving on…but it was as if your dog never existed

And it was like you were trying your hardest to let go of his place in your heart also

It broke Akaashi’s heart, and he hoped that his idea would truly start the healing process

“I’m home,” you call into the apartment. Akaashi sits in the living room, holding a slim package in his hands. He left work early to pick up the gift, and he was actually terrified to give it to you.

“Keiji?” Akaashi can hear you hang up your coat and deposit your keys in the bowl by the door.

“In the living room,” he says gently. His voice carries to you, and soon enough you cross the threshold and join him on the couch.

“I’m surprised you’re home this early,” you note as you sit down. You lean into his space and press a soft kiss to Akasashi’s cheek. “I thought you had a tight deadline for this week.”

“I spoke to my boss and was able to move some things around - I have something important to give you.” Akaashi passes the parcel to you, waiting for you to hold out your hands before handing it off. You look down at the package, then back to Akaashi. There was clear confusion in your eyes, and Akaashi only nods towards the gift instead of proving any context.

You carefully open the package, reach a hand inside and pull out a sturdy wooden plaque. Akaashi catches a brief glimpse of reflective material before you turn it over. Akaashi intently watches your face as you take in the inscription. When you read what’s inscribed on the reflective side, tears well in your eyes and quickly fall down your face.

Akaashi reaches over with a hand and holds yours tightly. You look away from the plaque, surprised and hurt and eyes full of conflicting emotions.

“Have you ever heard of the Rainbow Bridge?” He asks you quietly, gently. You shake your head, and Akaashi watches as more tears fall from your eyes. He gives you a small smile, and looks down to the plaque where he commissioned an artist to engrave the Rainbow Bridge poem into a rainbow metallic surface. Below the poem is a small illustration of your dog being hugged by you.

Akaashi leans closer, letting your lean into his side, as he reads the inscription.

“Just this side of heaven is a place called the Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to the Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

“All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

“They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

“You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

“Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together.”

Akaashi finishes reading, wipes his own eyes and leans over in time to grab the plaque from your hands before you dissolve into sobs and fall into his open arms. Your body is wracked with sobs, and Akaashi can only hold you close and bring a soothing hand to your head.

“I’m not crying because I don’t like it,” you get out through your tears. “I’m crying because I’m really really sad and this was really really b-beautiful.”

“It’s okay,” he tells you. “Neither of us are particularly religious so please forgive the allusions. But it’s been hard, and I thought this would be a nice way to remember him.”

You sniff before leaning away. Akaashi meets your wet eyes, and somehow is able to give you a small, watery smile. “It’s really nice. I’ve been so scared to let him go, but this will remind me that I don’t have to let him go.”

Akaashi returns your smile and brings you in for another hug. “You can take as long as you need to grieve, but I’m glad you like it.”

You nod and hug Akaashi back. Together you both sit on the couch, still weighed down by your shared grief, but comforted with knowing that your pet is running in a field, sleeping in a sun spot, happy as they can be, waiting for you to join them.

END

A/N: I did not write the Rainbow Bridge poem. It was one that was shared to me when I had to say goodbye to my childhood pets. It’s been five years since I had to say goodbye and I still get emotional thinking about what a good companion my dog was. I am not religious, but I take comfort in knowing that I was able to give my dog the best life he could ever have, and he too gave me the best life. 💛

Taglist: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @eunoji @savantsoulfinder @iamapotat @myasaaaam @jellien @rntrsuna @fantasycantasy

46 notes · View notes