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#it sure was an experience in my life and i'll never forget it
daddyygh0stface · 4 hours
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Hi yes I'm alive sorry for not being around. I kinda lost my job and haven't really figured out what I am doing to do or how I'm going to pay for bills or what the fuck is going to happen But yeah I am here and alive unfortunately. I probably won't answer ask or dms for a while don't really feel the greatest right now and sure as hell don't feel like talking to anyone right now.
Rant time i guess? Getting a job in our current market is hell everything I've applied to just never gets back to me. Its funny because growing up I always told you need college to get a job or be able to do anything in life, man I have friends literally went to some of best colleges and still can't even get job. It just feels like I'm constantly being lied to about everything. Weird how I'll forever be told people like me just don't wanna work yeah man I don't wanna be able to live comfortable pay my bills and be homeless. Let's also not forget the fact jobs will require you have a set amount of experience in a certain area but no job will hire you for that field without experience HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO GET EXPERIENCE THEN DUDE? Then a week before all of the job thing family member sits us all day and tells us they have cancer. This fucking disease has taken so many family members from me. I lost my grandma what will be a year ago in January I was starting to just come to terms with everything and feel somewhat okay. I will never truly get over her death but I feel like that is normal. I've had so many family members taken from me just from cancer alone this stuff runs in my family I believe and coming to that realization fucking sucks because I just want to help them, but there isn't anything I can do. I truly don't know what to do or what to think anymore.
Writing this really late into the morning and i'm going to schedule the post sometime not sure when
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kibbles-bits · 2 days
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any voxval fics you’d recommend?
Ah, yes, voxval fics... The one ship that finally made me cave and read explicit stuff. I am now numb to everything.
Everything.
I'll only be posting completed fics. Warnings, almost all of these are explicit. A couple also have Angel, you know, suffering.
And please mind the tags.
First off is a couple of favs that I always go back for a reread:
Corrupted Love by DoveFactory (Words: 149,495)
In a moment of blind desperation to one-up Alastor, Vox puts himself in a compromising situation that leaves him worse for wear. His state triggers something in Valentino who decides to change the nature of their relationship.
The title and summary of this is so misleading I thought it was going to be a dark fic but nope. The Vees are a bunch of goobers and Valentino always wins. I would scream about this every time it updated. I love the characterizations and their banter it almost made me forget there's sex in like every chapter. Honestly I wish there was more tags referencing the character/story stuff.
Virtual Reality by passthevoxcord (Words: 7,634)
Vox gets tired of his cybernetic biology being a barrier to his sex life, so he starts a new project to fuck Valentino in VR. Val will try anything once, but he has something else in mind.
This one ends up being so sweet I want to die. passthevoxcord's other fic, Only a Shadow, drives me nuts but its a WIP and hasn't actually gotten to the voxval yet.
choke behind a smile by gloriousmonsters (Words: 19,881)
"I'm not scared by extreme, although I doubt I'll find it interesting. What is it?" Valentino's eyes narrow slyly over his smile. "If you aren't scared, why do you need a warning?" Vox has everything under control in his new business partnership with benefits. His emotions, his unfortunate desires, the little mind games they play. Even Valentino himself. When Val offers an invitation to a special show he's performing, Vox knows it's a dare, and knows he has to take it, show Val that he can't be scared or destabilized. He has no idea of how deep under his skin the show will get.
Everyone's so normal. I love this Valentino. There's another Valvel fic that has the same Valentino I also recommend called bad girls go backstage.
Great Expectations by MarenRose (Words: 11,280)
“It’s his goal. Those three simple words. If he could get to hear them once, could let the reality of their meaning and spoken existence occupy his mind for only a few indiscernible moments, then maybe, Vox could learn to see the appeal of this god forsaken holiday. He might even learn to ‘love’ it too.” Or: Vox hates Valentine’s Days. His prick of a ‘wife’ is just too damn hard to please.
This miiiight have been the fic that made me Lock In on voxval? I'm not sure. It's sweet. Alastor is hilarious.
biting keeps your words at bay by Subedarling (Words: 1,511)
“You can’t hit me,” Valentino says. He’s practically vibrating with rage. “You’re not allowed to—you can’t hit me!” Vox sneers, cruel and mocking and hopefully masking the way his heart is breaking apart inside his chest. “Baby, I can do whatever the hell I want.” A decade into their partnership, Vox and Valentino have their first and last physical fight.
This might be the only non-explicit fic in this list. I am all for Val being the worst just because he's Like That. But I will not say no to an implied tragic backstory. I read this one a lot and want to die. Can I draw this. I want to draw this. Oh my god I have free time I can totally draw this...
And my other recs:
Just For The Record by PeppermintWalrus (Words: 13,795)
Vox is thrilled about his new film enterprise with his business partner, ready to build a lucrative empire for the denizens of hell to experience true cinema, in the only genre their depraved minds desire. There’s just one problem that he finds out too late; Valentino has never filmed porn before. Vox decides that some... hands-on teaching, is necessary to save their production.
Yeah you read that right.
a putrid feeling that i've addressed by spoondrifts (Words: 5,162)
They weren’t a couple because Valentino was pathologically noncommittal and Vox simply knew better. He tried the whole romance thing with a certain radio demon a few decades back, and he’d learned his damn lesson. Hell just wasn’t the place for that sort of cutesy bullshit. Also, he was pretty sure that Valentino was straight up incapable of love, which was both par for the course for Vox’s friendships and amazingly convenient—things couldn’t get complicated if there was nothing to complicate in the first place. Or: Full Moon, Vox/Val edition.
Haha I love pain. I lied, this is the second non-explicit fic.
Little Miss Hellion by DoveFactory (Words: 10,657)
Hell’s worst married couple spends a day of family bonding at a beauty pageant doing whatever it takes to make sure their daughter takes home the crown, because failure is never an option for the Vees. Pilot AU where Vox and Valentino are married and Velvette is their adopted daughter.
It's more Vees than voxval but they're married so.
The Art of Pimping by MarenRose (Words: 9,161)
Desperate to close a deal with one of the most lucrative investors in Pride, Vox does the unthinkable and pimps out Valentino for a one-time date. What could go wrong?
Val's attitude in this one is funny and Vox. Yeah. Vox made a mistake.
You Found Me by passthevoxcord (Words: 4,338)
Long before Velvette came along, it was just them. Vox and Valentino. Valentino and Vox.
Sobbing.
Something Less Than Dishonest by daphnerunning, Galiko (Words: 33,931)
He isn’t expecting the way Valentino walks, for some reason. Maybe it’s the extra limbs. Maybe it’s the wings. Maybe it’s the heels. Vox had skipped briefly through a few of the slut’s movies, for research, and isn’t expecting the way Valentino moves in person to feel so… Different. “…You must be my four o’clock,” he says, standing and offering a hand. Oh, shit, he’s huge. Valentino towers over him, easily would without the stripper heels. Vox is not afraid of heights.
Vox is so offensive in this it loops back around to hilarious.
Red Skies and Valentino by alternatedoom (Words: 86,050)
"Vox and I are special friends, doll. Go give him a kiss," Val says to the boy.
Angel does not have a good time. But the Voxval is nice.
before you go by xoTsundoku (Words: 4,426)
Before Alastor came into their lives, Vox and Valentino were happy. Maybe they still can be.
A Farewell to Ghosts by Accidental_Ducky (Words: 37,149)
"What do you think that is," Vox demands, pointing at the new guy. Valentino turns, eyes raking greedily over the man's body. He's gorgeous, skinny in a heroin chic way with big blue eyes and blond hair that falls just so across his eyes. "Hot." "Don't fucking call the ghost hot!"
The only human AU I've liked so far. Love the character interactions. Vox and Val are hilarious.
God I hope I didn't miss any. There's definitely some good WIP ones out there.
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thebestsetter · 1 month
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He has never been afraid of dying.
Death doesn't fright him. He sees it as a natural part of the cycle of life. One must be born, live their life, possibly reproduce so their species can keep on existing and then die. All animals, be it a big magnificient whale or a little insignificant ant, have to do this too. This is what they all have in common (and honestly, it's beautiful how all animals have to experience this. It brings humans and animals closer).
Everyone dies, be it the sinner or the saint, the rich or the poor. Death doesn't discriminate people. It just comes and takes everyone (which is kinda funny, since people think that money or looks make them different from the other. They don't. We're all equal. The bullet that kills the powerful is also capable of killing the weak). And frankly, he's okay with that. He knows it'll happen.
Given his work condition, he knows he's more inclined to die than the average person. Everyday, he has to go out there and risk his life, saving hundreds of people he doesn't even know and sometimes not even getting a "thank you" back. It's frustrating, but it's not like he's giving up. Before he dies, he wants to make this world a little bit better. It probably won't be much, but he still wants to feel useful. He wants to feel like he did something good.
"Oh God! You're okay! You're really okay! I was so worried about you!"
He doesn't fear death. Which is why he doesn't understand why he feels like crying when you visit him at the hospital he was staying at after a mission that went wrong. Death doesn't scare him, so he's not quite sure why his hands tremble when they reach to pat your head. He shouldn't react like this. He's never reacted this way before
"Please, don't ever do that again! Never ever!" Your grip in his waist tightens to the point where his lungs are burning for air, but he still doesn't want you to let go.
"You have no idea how scared I was. When the hospital called me saying you were here, I felt like my mind was going a hundred per hour! Please, don't die..."
How can you ask him this? You both know it's impossible. He's going to die one day, it can't be helped. You can't escape death's claws. No one can escape their funeral. You're torturing him. You know he doesn't like to lie to you. He can't just say "I won't die" cause it's simply not true!
"Please don't die" you repeat, and his hands movement comes to a halt "Because I'll be lonely if you die. Don't leave me alone, please."
And suddenly, it all makes sense.
He still isn't afraid of dying. But suddenly, the mention of death leaves an itching feeling at the back of his throat. It makes him sick thinking about you going on with your life, possibly mourning over his death for a long time (he doesn't ever want you to be sad, especially not because of him. Strangely, a sick, twisted part of him wants you to cry when he dies. To be sad. To not move on fastly. He quickly supresses those thoughts though) and then completely forgetting him and starting a new family (this thought makes him sick to the stomach. He feels like a very bad guy when thinking about how he doesn't want you to find another man to replace him. You always said he was irreplaceable after all).
He will forever be someone who was, not someone who is. He'll be lost in time, a name you'll mention once or twice on a conversation while smiling and thinking about the good times you had together.
He'll never hear your laugh and your voice again, will never take you out on extravagant dates and have movie nights watching silly movies and laughing at the special effects. Leaving you alone in this dangerous world feels almost criminal.
Death doesn't make him feel bad. Having you forget him after he dies makes him feel like absolute shit.
And so, even though he can't promise you that he won't die, he can promise one thing. He grabs one of your hands in his, looking at you as serious as he can be.
"You won't ever be alone." He says, and you feel like crying. He then smiles weakly "I promise. I love you. Our love is too strong to be stopped by death." He kisses your hand and then quotes the same sentence he uttered at your wedding day "Remember? 'And if death do us apart, I promise to find you in every other timeline.'"
And just like he did that day, he props up in the hospital bed and kisses you.
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, ITADORI YUJI, Gojo Satoru, Inumaki Toge (or maybe I'm just a glazer ☹️), Nanami Kento (idk, I just feel like it fits him), TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Ejirou, Izuku Midoriya, Aizawa Shota, HAWKS + any character you think fits this!!
~ A/N: this can be read as a sequel of another fic of mine. It also can be read on it's own though (but please, do check the other one if you're interested!!). Also, you can see some Hamilton songs' references here and there (cause I'm a theater kid 😔) AND this was inspired by a line in "Cowboy Beebop"
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formosusiniquis · 8 months
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This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played
steddie | G | WC: 1154
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“Hey baby, can you?”
“No.”
Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”
“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”
“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”
“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.
“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”
He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”
“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.
“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.
“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”
He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”
“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”
It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.
“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”
“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”
“You aren't on speaker.”
“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”
“I don't recall.”
“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”
“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”
“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”
“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”
“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”
The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.
“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”
“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”
It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”
The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”
That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”
The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”
“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”
“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.
“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”
“Aspen, thank you really!”
Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”
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barleyo · 3 months
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If ur in twd fandom I would loveee a Daryl dixon age gap fic!! Just him being disgusting over taking her first time? Just a major power imbalance between them. Dont do this if ur uncomfy ofc!! Stay safe bookie <33
Men Who Are Older.
Daryl Dixon X F! Reader (smut)
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A/N: cried happy tears at this request, i LOVE daryl, he's so yummy. dirty old men foreverrrrr!!! i haven't seen all of twd and it's been a while since i've watched it, so this could be super ooc for all i know!! sorry it's short, i wanted to get all my ideas down quickly :3
Tags: LARGE age gap (18-19 and late 40-ish), power imbalance, coercion, p in v, loss of virginity, allusion to anal, creepy old man behavior (ugh i luv it)
Wordcount: 1.2k
You found yourself often visiting Daryl in his tent later in the night when you couldn't sleep. He tried to act like it annoyed him, like your presence was a nuisance to him, but it wasn't. You weren't the most irritating person he had to deal with day-to-day. You were polite enough for your age, you didn't mess around and snoop through his shit. You didn't judge him.
Most importantly, though, you were attractive. There wasn't much hot, young tail to chase around the camp. He liked to think you were his reward for living through hell every day. Nothing like eye candy at the end of the night to ease a hardened man's stress.
It was like most nights when you entered his tent, not bothering to announce yourself. Daryl looked up from the pocket knife he had been mindlessly flicking to eye you down. 
"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" 
"Yeah, right," you said, taking a casual seat on his bedroll. "What're you doing?"
He clicked his tongue at you on his bed, but sighed and ignored it. "Nothing. Too damn late to do anythin' important."
"Want to chit-chat, then?" You rested your hands on your knees, hoping he would soothe your boredom.
"Do I wanna 'chit-chat'?" Daryl flicked his knife closed and tucked it in his back pocket. "If you wanna chat, why don't you go do it with someone else? You don't have friends your age?" 
"I used to." He didn't say anything, just flattened his mouth at your rebuttal. "We're friends though, aren't we?"
Crossing his arms, he let out a hum. "Whatever you want, kid. Sure. We're real pals."
You spoke about whatever came to your mind for the next however-many minutes with him. Mostly just you babbling on, but it didn't bother him. You could run off at your mouth all you wanted, gave him all the excuse to stare you down and look a little too closely at places he knew he shouldn't.
Eventually, you got on the topic of things you missed about life before. Things you wished you got to experience, things you were slowly starting to forget about.
"I didn't even get to properly lose my virginity before this shit took over," you complained, now laying on Daryl's bed like it was your own. "It really bites, man." 
His eyes widened a bit, arms falling to his legs from their crossed position. 
"Wait, what'd y'say?" 
"Huh? Oh, I didn't get to have sex with anyone before the outbreak," you repeated, not caring to turn to face him while you spoke. "Sometimes, I wonder if I'll die before I get any." 
So many things rushed through Daryl's head at that moment. A virgin? You? It wasn't exactly surprising, you weren't old enough for it to be a shocking thing to hear, but the thought really intrigued him. Made him wonder.
It gave him an idea, and lord knows dirty, old men have even dirtier ideas stewing in their minds.
"That bother you?" 
You finally turned your head over to look at him, eyes looking conflicted.
"I guess, a little. There are bigger things to worry about, but I feel like I'm missing out," you said while trying your best to sound nonchalant. "It's not much of a priority, under the circumstances, you know."
Oh, how wrong you were. It very much was a priority, an urgent one at that. 
"Never know. Could happen, if y'really wanted. Don't rule it out completely," he advised, wiping his face with the back of his palm. "Maybe some younger man might find his way here. Could be an opportunity." 
"Nah, I couldn't go for that. I don't wanna be inexperienced and have to deal with an equally inexperienced guy too. That'd be like hell," you joked.
"Sounds like you want an older man, then."
He called on every guardian angel he had in that moment, praying for you to take the bait. Just one chance, damn it, he wasn't asking for much.
"Yeah, guess so." You made eye contact with him for a brief second, before flitting your eyes around in embarrassment. "Listen, it's getting late, I should go." You pushed yourself up, ready to head back to your family.
Daryl stood from his seat and grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to him.
"I don't mind," he said, dancing around the answer to the question you didn't yet ask. "I know my fair share."
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"Those don't sound like sounds a virgin'd make," he teased. He loved how you sounded. Straight from a porno, just shameless cries and squeals. "You sure you ain't did this before?"
He watched the back of your head shake 'no' while his hand guided along the arch in your spine. Took you a while to learn to keep your head down and ass up, but damn it if you didn't put the knowledge to work quickly.
"Am I supposed to be dizzy?" you asked, voice muffled by the blankets under you.
Daryl chuckled softly, slamming your hips back on him. "Yeah, if the guy's doin' it right. Feel good?"
Your hands clenched the fabric you were laying on, digging into it roughly.
"I think? I—I dunno, 's just so much."
Being the man he was, Daryl took that as a challenge. He flipped you over on your back, cock still rocking into you. He sped up, letting his movements get sharper. 
"C'mon," he muttered gruffly, trying to urge you to place your legs on his shoulders, "you gonna be this much of a problem for the next guy?"
You gave your weak legs a kick, wrapping them around his neck so the shaking wouldn't roll them off his shoulders. 
"No, no," you whined, groping your tits to keep your hands busy, "don't want another guy. He won't be as good as you, Dar." 
How the hell could a few little words get him ramped up even more? He knew you probably didn't mean it, horny girls said whatever their pussies wanted them to say, but the way he fucked you made you believe your own words.
"Yeah? I ruined ya for other guys already?" 
The stark difference between his now softer tone and rougher thrusts confused your brain in the best ways possible. You couldn't focus on just one aspect of him: Daryl was everywhere. In your brain, in your heart, in the very blood flowing through your veins— and, of course, inside of you. 
It was too much, all of it. 
Your walls clamped tightly over him, sucking him in like a vacuum. The clenching of your walls over his dick sent him over the edge, barely leaving him enough time to pull out. He bit the back of his hand, stifling a moan while he jerked himself the rest of the way off, coating your tired pussy with his cum. 
"You didn't cum inside, did you?" You sat up quickly, scooting back a bit. 
Daryl let out a huff. "I'm not an amateur, I know how to pull out."
"Just checking," you mumbled, lying back down on his bedroll, head nuzzling into the pillow.
You felt his dick push up against your ass, prodding between your cheeks.
"I could show you a way that'll make sure no idiot douchebags get ya knocked up," he offered, head desperately tapping against your asshole, "if you want."
A soft sigh came from your chest as you pushed your ass back on him.
"You're an eager teacher, y'know."
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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months
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Heya, could you write one for Tanjirou where the reader gets hurt on a mission and he feels bad about letting it happen as they were protecting Nezuko and he has feelings for her?
Thanks. I love your writing and take your time x
Okay I LOVE THIS
Tanjiro realizing his feelings for reader after she risks her life to protect Nezuko
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Pairing: Tanjiro x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,8k
Synopsis: Despite being well-composed and never deciding without thinking twice, you find yourself recklessly risking your life in order to protect Nezuko from getting hurt by Daki. Little do you know what an impact your second impulsive choice will have...
Warnings: severe injury, near death experience, fluff over fluff with Tanjiro with probably the cutest ending I've ever written, not proofread, I'll use one collage and one stand-alone AI pic so if this triggers you, I suggest not to read or look at them 🤍
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You never considered yourself impulsive. No, you never acted out of a feeling, never operated without thinking twice. Always kept your composure, a cool head. Maybe this is the reason for you still being alive, the reason why you are able to call yourself a quite skilled demon slayer on the side of your friends.
“You’ll come with me. I need you to look out for my wives.”
It was clear right from the start that this wouldn’t be an easy mission. All of Tengen’s wives enjoyed education when it comes to fighting skills. As a former shinobi, he made sure they were able to defend themselves. If he lost contact to them, it was clear something bigger is behind it. Something way bigger than anything you witnessed until that day.
“I can’t allow you to take (y/n) with you like that. I will join!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouted from behind with his oh so confident voice.
You will never forget the way he smiled at you back then, how much he cared for your well-being each and everyday since you arrived in the red-light district.
“I would never allow a demon to hurt one of my friends!”
Friends. Not quite the word you’d like to use for him. Since you first met each other when he saved you during the final selection, you always kept an eye open for the boy with the special kimono.
And his sister.
Apart from many people who dislike her, you loved Nezuko since the first day you laid eyes on her. Slowly but surely, it became your mission as well to save her, to free her from the curse of being a demon.
“I guess I’ll never be able to thank you enough for your support.”
You didn’t allow yourself to look at him, fully aware of that you’d get lost in his tender orbs again if you do. No, instead your eyes roamed about the glittering city to your feet, drifting over the facial expressions of the people underneath you.
“We’re friends, right? This is what friends do”, you murmured into the night.
Oh, you didn’t believe yourself a single word. What a filthy little lie to call Tanjiro a friend when all you are able to think about is his smell, when his voice is everything that lingers through your mind. Are friends supposed to think about one another constantly, to ponder about how their lips might feel pressed against each other? You promised yourself to never find out. After all, revealing your true feelings might scare him away forever. And losing Tanjiro all at once is definitely far worse than calling yourself his friend. After all, this would be impulsive with a not foreseeable outcome.
But even after you swore you’d never act out of a feeling, you find yourself sprinting into certain death.
It all happened faster than you expected. Inosuke managed to find Tengen’s wives and therefore the demon.
The upper moon six, to be exact.
The devilish who injured not only your friends, but Tanjiro as well. And now, she’s about to injure Nezuko as well.
Apart from your usual composed self, you find yourself dashing forward while grabbing the handle of your katana tightly. This is ridiculous, you don’t stand a chance against a demon like hair. Nezuko is a demon herself, she’d probably recover from her injuries.
You furrow your eyebrows, eyes fixated on both of them. It doesn’t matter right now. All you are able to think about is helping your friend.
“Get your filthy hands away from her”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
A well-placed hit. Your knee hits the ground roughly. Then everything around you is discoloured red.
Like in slow motion, you watch your own body sink onto the ground lifelessly. Your lungs feel like collapsing any given minute while you gasp for air like a fish on land. Blood takes your sight, drips down onto the already soaked floor while all you can do is watch in sheer horror as that hell of a demon grins at you.
“You did well until now. Dumb girl, why would you even think about defending a demon? Look how weak you are.”
The urge to cough becomes unbearable. Over and over, you spit out your own blood until your ribs feel like breaking. Did she hit you? Are you severely injured? Apart from your aching lungs, your body feels completely numb, almost lifeless. Like in slow motion, you watch as she walks towards you, the upper moon six emblem sparkling dreadfully in her eyes.
Is this your end?
What a senseless way to die when Nezuko is a demon. After all, even an upper moon wouldn’t be able to kill another demon without the right blade to do so. You never considered yourself so impulsive, so reckless.
Your eyes dart towards Tanjiro’s beloved sister who puts up a desperate fight against all the debris that buried her. Not everything needs to make sense.
It doesn’t make sense you decided to spare her life in the first place. It doesn’t make sense that you fell for her brother, that you allowed yourself feelings deeper than sympathy in a world full of cruelness and death. It doesn’t make sense that you decided to follow the sound hashira only to rescue his wives, that you actually considered going with him on your own.
All of that because you are so madly in love with Tanjiro. All of that because you view Nezuko as your own sister and could never allow another person to hurt her.
“What an ugly girl you are with your face twisted like that. What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
You can hear your flesh bursting underneath another merciless hit of her belt, feel the throbbing pain that starts radiating through your bones. You will die right here and now, without any doubt. And you will die without seeing his face again, without telling him a single word about your true feelings.
“Don’t worry (y/n), I’m sure we’ll be fine! And as soon as we’re back, I’ll invite you to a bowl of ramen!”
A bowl of ramen?
Like in trance, you press your hand onto your leg, feel your busted flesh all too clearly, your very own blood slipping through your fingers.
Just like the love of your life.
“You need to get up.”
A distant voice in the back of your brain, muted by the constant ringing that takes over your ears.
“(y/n), can you hear me? You need to get up.”
Is Tanjiro still with Tengen-sama? They will manage to defeat those demons, you just know it. With the help of Inosuke, Zenitsu and Tengen-sama, Tanjiro will be alright. Who knows, maybe he’ll be a hashira in a week from now, maybe he’ll defeat Muzan Kibutsuji. Oh, what you’d give to hear that boy’s voice one last time, to witness his beaming smile again.
“She’s basically dead, idiot. Get lost so I can finish her.”
Are those hands lifting you off the ground or is your soul evaporating from your body?
“Please stay with me, (y/n). You need to keep on fighting.”
You allow your eyes for the briefest second. When you open them again, you barely miss how Nezuko catapults the upper moon six into a nearby building with full force. No, why would she risk to get hurt, what if that woman hurts her? It seems like you’re moving away from the scene and you’re unable to do anything apart from stretching out your shaky hand.
“No…I can’t…leave….”, you breathe out.
“Why did you risk your life like that? (y/n) you…you could be dead right now.”
That voice, it isn’t inside your head. No, someone is talking to you with an oh too familiar voice in a tone you know so well.
“Tanjiro.”
“I’m here, (y/n). And I promise everything will be alright? I just...don’t do something like that ever again, not even for Nezuko.”
Even though the sheer movement feels like breaking your own neck, you lift up your head enough to make sure this isn’t just a dream.
But his eyes are already set on you, filled with nothing but worry and threat while he carries you over the battlefield.
For a moment, time stands still. Just you and Tanjiro. No battlefield, no injuries, no demons. Just peace, love and Tanjiro.
Love.
“I love you”, you mutter so muted that he almost fails to understand.
You can feel his heartbeat picking up next to your throbbing head, watch how his eyes widen. Oh, how lovely they look in that red light, how easy it is to get lost in their gleam. What a waste of time it was to keep your feelings to yourself when all you were able to do was thinking about him. How lucky you are to feel your body pressed against his one last time.
One last time…
“I…so…tired…”
Desperately, you fight against the urge to close your eyes. You need to take this sight in for a little longer, need to stay awake at least for another minute. But your vision slowly but surely starts to get darker and darker until you can’t see him anymore.
“(y/n), don’t give up on me, not when I didn’t told you that-“
Nothingness.
-a week later-
“You should really start focus on getting back on your feet yourself, you know? It won’t help her if you don’t get better too”, the Kakushi next to him speaks out.
Since the moment he opened his eyes and realized that you aren’t awake, Tanjiro didn’t allow himself to leave your side. The last time he did that was at the entertainment district. The last time he did that you almost lost your precious life over defending his sister.
“I will stay just a little longer”, he mumbles lost in thoughts.
You always loved Nezuko dearly despite being a demon. Even though your logical thinking and composed acting, you accepted her as the human she was before and supported him in finding a cure for his sister. Still…
He runs his fingers through his hair roughly, frustration almost taking over him. Tanjiro never expected you to almost sacrifice your precious life for his sister. Not when she’s fighting against a demon, not when two upper moons are your opponents. No one would have doubted you, would have judged you for staying in safety. Nezuko would have never allowed you to interfere if she could, just like him.
“I should have arrived sooner. I should have been right by her side all the time. Maybe none of this would have happened if I kept an eye on her like I promised…”
“Don’t be a fool, she would have never allowed you to stay by her side knowing that it might cost the success of the mission. Still, I didn’t expect someone like her to act so reckless. Who’s your sister doing?”, the man opposite of Tanjiro replies.
“She’s been crying the whole time.”
“Did she finally wake up?”, Inosuke suddenly blurts out while entering the room on his own.
“She’s still unconscious”, Tanjiro explains briefly.
“Did you put that horrible bandage around her head? Before you came here, it looked alright”, the Kakushi interferes dryly.
“With the power of master Inosuke, (y/n) will be back on her feet in no time!”
“H…Hello?”
When your eyes flutter open, you get greeted by 3 pairs of excited eyes in an instant, your clouded mind still unable to process that you’re awake.
“Where am I?”, you croak with your throat feeling like sandpaper.
“I will call Shinobu-sama right away”, the Kakushi announces and gets up with a swift motion.
“You’re at the butterfly estate, dumbass”, Inosuke barks at you.
“(y/n)….I was so worried about you!”
Before you’re able to react any further, you find yourself emerged by green and black fabric, surrounded by a scent you know so well by now.
“Tanjiro”, you breathe out.
Over and over, you whimper his name like a prayer in order to convince yourself that this is real. You didn’t die. You are still alive. And right now, none other than Tanjiro Kamado holds you in his arms as tenderly as you always imagined. Is it a dream, maybe? A sweet hallucination to get you through the immense pain?
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. All of this, only to stand up for my sister. Words can’t express how worried I was. How is it possible that this made me realize how much I-“
“You’re finally awake, how relieving. Would you mind moving to the side so that I’m able to examine (y/n), Tanjiro-san?”
That voice as sweet as honey belongs to Shinobu Kocho, without any doubt.
“S-Sure.”
“You really fought well, (y/n). Surviving that long with such severe injuries took its toll on your body, though. All of this because you wanted to protect Tanjiro’s sister?”
Her skilled hands begin roaming around your skin while you feel her gaze fixated on you. But you cannot look at Shinobu-san right now. No, your eyes are locked with those of Tanjiro next to you.
“They both mean the world to me”, you murmur.
He lets out his breath visibly while taking a step towards you. What is that glimmer in his eyes? Sorrow, dread?
Or maybe affection?
“How unusual for you to act this reckless. But maybe this is what love makes us do, right? I will leave you two alone for now. How about you’re taking a look outside? The sunset looks lovely today. But please use a wheelchair since your leg is still shattered.”
With a last bright smile, the insect pillar is gone in the wind again, leaving you alone with Tanjiro in a suddenly so tensed room.
“What do you think?  Do you want to watch the sunset with me?”, Tanjiro questions with low voice.
“I would love to.”
As careful as ever, he lifts you off the bed and places you into the wheelchair before gently guiding you outside.
Your eyes get greeted by the prettiest red you’ve ever seen covering the whole sky. Like a painting, the beautiful scenery lays itself in front of your eyes. Shinobu-san’s flowers painted in the colors of the sky, the fluffy clouds that look so comfortable from afar.
But what mesmerizes you way more than that is the striking sight next to you, the boy you loved in silence since you first saw him. With his face lit by the downgoing sun and the ever so slight blush that creeps up his face while looking at you, you can’t help but get lost.
“Maybe I needed this”, he speaks out.
You blink a few times, still tired mind trying to process the meaning of his words.
“What?”
There is it. His usual beaming smile, the optimistic glimmer inside his gorgeous orbs. Careful not to hurt you he grabs your hand and gently strokes it while kneeling down next to you. Is this really happening? Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, reminds you urgently that you are definitely still alive. Why would Tanjiro Kamado get onto his knees for you?
“You.”
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An answer so simple and yet so intimate that you can’t help but blush as well. Like in slow motion, you watch as he draws closer and closer until his face is only inches away from yours.
“I love you, (y/n). I guess I was too dumb to realize it until I saw you injured like that because you protected my sister. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The words leave your mouth just in time before he places his soft lips onto yours, making all your dreams come true with one innocent kiss.
You always acted well-thought and composed. But oh, what a plot twist it was to follow your heart twice in a row.
-bonus-
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“Did…Shinobu-san put this around my head?”, you question while staring blankly at your messy hair and the wild bandadge around your head.
“The insect girl? Of course it was me! You wouldn’t even be awake if it wasn’t for me! But don’t worry, you can worship me later”, Inosuke replies while stretching out his chest in full proud.
“You look…”
“Well…”
“I mean…”
None of the three girls dare to raise their voices at him whereas you stare yourself up and down. Of course, it was Inosuke. Shinobu-san would never stitch you up like that.
“Do you want…Kanao to fix this?”, one of them finally suggests quietly.
“Yeah….I guess that would be pretty nice.”
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu
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littlespoonevan · 6 months
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i'll keep it all to myself
7x04 coda (she's back, baby xoxo)
-
“Hey, killer.”
Buck winces, mouth already tripping over an apology as he moves into the Diaz living room. “Eddie, I’m so sorry-“
“Buck, I’m kidding,” Eddie interrupts, exasperated and just a little fond. He hasn’t been on the receiving end of that tone in a few days. It’s embarrassing to say he missed it. “Sit down.”
Buck takes the armchair instead of sitting on the couch next to Eddie. He’s not sure why. He never sits in the armchair. Sitting in it now he almost feels…off balance. But then catching sight of Eddie’s foot propped up on the coffee table sobers him immediately and he forgets all about the strange discomfort in his stomach.
Reaching for the cushion behind him, he gets up again. “You should have something under that,” he says, gently lifting Eddie’s leg to place the cushion on the table. He lowers it again carefully, nodding in satisfaction when Eddie’s foot is nestled safely in the cushion. “The table is too hard.”
“Oh sorry, I thought I was the one with real medical training,” Eddie quips but there’s no bite behind the words.
“Yeah but I’m the one with crush injury experience,” Buck says, kicking his own legs up on the table in proof.
Eddie opens his mouth as if to argue back but then closes it again, rolling his eyes, but his lips twitch a bit. Just at the corners.
“Eddie, I really am sorry,” he says, straightening in his seat and forcing himself to meet Eddie’s gaze properly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got so-“
“I know,” Eddie replies, quiet and careful and devoid of any of his earlier teasing. “But you know you can talk to me, right? Like, it’s me Buck. You can just tell me when something’s wrong.”
Buck does know that. He knows he can tell Eddie everything. Anything. The bad and the good.
Which means he should be able to clear this up right away, right? He should just be able to say, ‘Hey, I was apparently working through some latent feelings I never knew I had. And I took that out on you. But guess what! I like Tommy and he likes me back and we have a date Saturday!’
But thinking about telling Eddie that Tommy kissed him makes his chest constrict in a way that he doesn’t expect. So he tucks it up in a neat little box in the corner of his mind for now and focuses on making sure Eddie’s okay. Because he can do that. He knows how to do that.
“I’m an idiot,” he says. “And if you want I will totally give you one free punch so we’re even.”
Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “I could never hit you.”
“Should I go get Christopher’s Legos instead and step on them with my shoes off?”
Eddie lets out a real laugh then, the kind that makes his eyes close and his head fall back against the couch cushion, and Buck feels so much affection for him well up inside him he’s almost breathless with it.
“You’re an idiot,” Eddie tells him. “And a martyr. Seriously, Buck, I don’t care. I just want to make sure you and I are okay.”
“Of course we are,” Buck says, without actually stopping to interrogate if that’s true or not.
They are, he thinks. The fact that something absolutely life altering happened to him an hour ago and he somehow can’t make himself tell Eddie about it is…inconsequential.
He’s just hedging his bets. Not trying to get ahead of himself before he has yet another failed romance.
“In that case, can you go to the fridge and get us some beers?” Eddie asks, pulling Buck back to reality.
“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Buck says, even as he stands. Maybe they can split a beer. Half a bottle shouldn’t hurt. “Tommy says you’re on pain meds.”
“Oh, so you guys talked?”
Eddie says it unassumingly and when Buck freezes at the dining table and looks over his shoulder he finds that Eddie isn’t even looking at him. He’s leaning forward on the couch, adjusting his leg, but when Buck takes too long to answer he raises his head and gives him an expectant look.
“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, the phantom rasp of Tommy’s stubble against his mouth still tingling and making him want to reach up and touch his lips. That would give too much away though. “We talked.”
Eddie smiles, nodding his approval. “Good. Maybe all three of us can actually hang out together now.”
The thought immediately makes Buck’s stomach swoop with something unnameable but he doesn’t let it show on his face.
“Sure,” he breathes. “Sounds great.”
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ceesimz · 6 months
Text
panna
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Not my best work, but it was fun to write nonetheless. FYI: panna means nutmeg, but it's also a playground/street football game where it is either a 1v1 or basically a huge free-for-all and you had to get as many nutmegs/pannas as possible - great memories :)
Living with Leah was a much different experience than you thought it would be.
The first time you met her she was a little shy but the more you got to know her, the more enamouring she was and before long you had completely fallen for her, as had she for you. Each date, you peeled back another layer of each other's personality and you saw a side to her that was inexplicably softer than the sometimes rather grumpy, stoic demeanor she had for her career. It was easy to like her, adore her, and eventually love her, and you made sure to offer her a safe space for her to let go in when she was away from the view of the public. She did the same for you, allowing you to switch off when you needed to in her presence. Ultimately, the relationship was so rewarding and comforting, it seemed almost too good to be true. In moments of self-doubt and insecurity, you felt like you were just waiting for the shoe to drop.
And when you moved into your new house together, that shoe did indeed drop, but in a way you didn't expect.
As time went on of you sharing the same space, an extremely irritating side of Leah came out in full force. You had seen glimpses of it so far of course, and it never failed to make you laugh, but living with her? It was next level.
Leah seemed to embody the nature of that of an annoying younger sibling or a tiresome teenager who had a maddening addiction to just being absolutely infuriating. When she was in a certain type of giddy mood, this habit seemed to reach new heights. You loved it, but sometimes it felt like you were going to explode with the aggravation you felt towards her.
You know that saying of if you don't react, they'll get bored and stop? Yeah, that didn't apply to Leah.
"Leah, I'm trying to cook dinner, put the football away please." You started out by asking her politely as you manned the pasta in the pot on the hob, your girlfriend doing kick-ups by the fridge.
"I'm alright here, babe. I won't get in your way, swear. Just wanna be with you, and I am bored." That's kind of sweet, you guess.
Deciding that the pasta can survive without constant surveillance, you step away from it to unload the dishwasher but clearly Leah doesn't agree with that.
"Nah, forget that, I'll do it later. Come here, one versus one." She grins, quickly flicking the ball between each foot.
"And why would I do that as someone who doesn't even know which foot to use?" You raise an eyebrow and stand across from her with your hands on your hips.
"Bit of fun, babe, lighten up. Let's do a game of panna." She teases, passing the ball to you. "You first."
"What is panna?" You frown, confused.
"Just try to nutmeg me." Leah rolls her eyes, though she knows your knowledge of football lacks compared to her as someone who lives and breathes the sport and has done all her life.
You squint your eyes sceptically at her, before slowly inching towards her and attempting to dribble the ball the way you've seen her do it probably a million times. However, as soon as you get close, she removes any gap between her feet and instead stands like a penguin.
"How am I supposed to nutmeg you when you stand like that?" You scoff, but she just smirks smugly at you and shrugs.
"No one likes a quitter."
"No one likes a stubborn girlfriend that forces her girlfriend to play a game that's impossible to win." You hit back, and a smile tugs at your lips as you see Leah suppress a laugh.
"Fine, let me go against you." She steals the ball from your feet in the blink of an eye, and now the cards are stacked impossibly against you.
"Right, 'cause this is totally fair."
You roll your eyes but nevertheless prepare to defend your pride against the decorated footballer that stands before you. This little stand off lasts all of two minutes as Leah performs as many standing tricks as she can - it's hard not to laugh because, despite the talent she's portraying, it just looks like the result of a button-spamming FIFA player.
Finally though, you gain the confidence to lunge at her to get the ball back, but Leah of course spots this immediately, and flip-flaps the ball straight between your legs.
"Panna! You just got your shit rocked, baby." She celebrates as if her performance wasn't as easy as stealing candy from a baby. You watch as she cheers quietly to herself under her breath and dances like a fool. If the world could see her now, you think.
Feeling slightly humbled, you go back to your place at the stove, finding comfort in your cooking skills at least.
...This oddly felt like you were playing into some kind of stereotype.
"Put the ball away now, please." You tell her once more, but as ever her ego takes no prisoners.
"Aw, is someone's ego hurt?" Leah pouts pitifully at you, her hands falling to your waist when she stands behind you. You weren't having it though, not when she had humiliated you purely for her own ego.
"No, I just have many dangerous weapons in my arsenal here and I wouldn't want the leader of England to come to any harm." You return the patronising pout on her face, swatting away her hands and wagging the pasta ladle you had just pulled from the boiling pan in her face.
"Alright, message heard." She walks away with her hands surrendered.
For the next five minutes that the spaghetti spends boiling, you both exist civilly in the same area whilst doing different things. You're preparing for dinner as Leah is of course dilly-dallying with the football again. Each punt against the ball as she does kick-ups or ridiculous little tricks slowly grinds your gears, until she eventually begins occupying floor space in the kitchen that she obviously knows you'll use.
"Move, please, I need to drain this pasta." You say initially, a bit of bite to it but not as much as you easily could reach. However, she doesn't move, and instead gets in the way even more. "I have a pot full of boiling water here, move!"
You shoved past her where she was messing around with the ball near the sink, a shit-eating grin on her face which its only purpose is to infuriate you more. She does move out the way though, lifting the ball up into her arms with the foot, but she only steps so far away.
"What are we having?" She asked in an all too innocent voice, watching as you drained the pasta - the aggression you did this simple task with probably should have been a warning sign to her. But that had never stopped her before.
"Spaghetti, what does it look like?" You shake your head at her. "And you will eat it this time."
You were yet another unfortunate victim to Leah's limited and fussy palate.
"Not my fault you used a rank sauce last time. You better have gotten a new one." She grumbled like a picky toddler, starting her kick-ups again right in front of the next cupboard you need to get into.
"Put that fucking ball away before I stab a knife into it." You snap, pushing her out of the way with one hand and getting out the aforementioned new sauce. "See? Is this better for you, princess?"
"Oh, you're gonna pay for that, sweetheart." Leah smirks, referencing the sassy tone and mocking pet name you used for her as you shoved the jar into her face to prove a point.
"I'd like to see you try." You scoff, heading back over to the stove.
She falls suspiciously silent as you put the spaghetti and sauce into the pan. You try to pay no notice, watching out of your peripheral vision as she slowly makes her way back over with her hands behind her back.
"What are y-"
You're disrupted by her kicking the ball in between your legs, it clunking scarily loud against the glass door of the oven.
"Another one! Call me Ronal-fucking-dhino!" Leah laughs giddily, scampering away like a naughty child.
You took a deep breath, composing yourself so that you didn't chase after her with one of the multiple weapons within reach around you.
However, sticking true to your threat, you grabbed a knife from the draining board beside the sink and sunk it into the ball that had been the bane of your existence for the past however long it's been in Leah's possession. It wasn't a sentimental object, you wouldn't do that to her, thankfully it was just a ball she had picked up from the supermarket one day she had been determined to tag along as you did the grocery shop. The poor thing let out its final breath as the air puffed out of it, a sign you had won the battle. With a slightly manic grin, you went on making the rest of the meal as if nothing had happened.
Luckily you were able to cook the dinner without any further childish interruptions, though you did have half a mind to pour the whole shaker of salt onto her portion. But no, you can rise above this kind of behaviour. A household prank war against this woman-child could lead to an unfortunate break-up. Though you did just get an adrenaline rush from murdering a harmless football, so maybe it was already on.
"Leah, come here and sort your cheese out." You shout into the apartment, not a clue where she had gone off too.
Although, you forgot the scene she would walk into, only realising when a sharp gasp sounds through the room.
"What... the hell did you do?" Leah whispers in a dramatically heartbroken voice, kneeling to the ground and delicately picking up the punctured ball. You turned and rolled your eyes at the sight that met you, forever astonished at the theatrics this girl pulls off.
"Better a ball than your head." You mutter under your breath. "Sort your dinner out, I'm not being blamed for ruining it this time."
You took your bowl and walked past where she was still on the ground, nudging her shoulder with your knee as you went by to push her over. Okay, maybe you did have tendencies similar to hers.
Leah joins you on the couch a few moments later, an embarrassingly scarce amount of parmesan in her bowl as she slumps down next to you with a groan.
"I'm not watching this right now, I don't want to participate in a fucking reading lesson whilst I'm eating!" Leah complains at the choice of TV show you'd picked for this evening: Narcos.
"Tough, I cooked so I choose." You shrugged and pressed play, the characters immediately talking in thick and fast Spanish that, despite the English subtitles, is too much for your poor girlfriend to deal with right now.
"That's not fair, you always cook." She grumbles, stabbing her fork aggressively into her food. You pause the show at that statement, turning to look at her with a face that conveyed pure and unfiltered rage.
"Did you seriously just complain that I always cook?" You question in a frighteningly passive tone. Leah glances at you from the corner of her eye, not daring to turn away from her bowl. "Really, Leah?
She grimaces at the use of her name when you probe her for an answer. All day, she had been toeing a fine line, pressing all the wrong buttons, and pushing her luck with you. This time though, she'd really done it.
"Watch whatever you want, I'm not eating with you." You stand up from your seat on the sofa and storm away to the bedroom, leaving a glum and regretful Leah in the lounge who does in fact change the show on TV.
Was it an overreaction? In an hour, you'll probably think so. But right now you couldn't bear to look at the woman downstairs. You both eat, sad and alone, in your separate rooms to think over your actions.
In fact, no, you didn't overreact. You were entirely in your right to get angry over a throw-away statement that Leah had made just to win one back against you. Her immature attitude and competitive nature took over and she made an unnecessary comment about an action you not only enjoyed doing anyway, but enjoyed doing for her. So, whilst Leah thought back on how she should have behaved better, verbalised herself better, you were satisfied with your actions.
When there was a quiet knock at the bedroom door twenty minutes later as you lay in bed on your phone, bowl on the floor and meal happily consumed, you gave no answer. Leah came in anyway, a sheepish and guilty look on her face.
"May I come in?" She asks shyly, only her head in view.
"As long as you promise to not be a complete arsehole to me anymore." You grumble, not looking at her.
"I promise, love. I am sorry. I have things to make up for my utterly stupid behaviour." She says, and that does pique your interest.
You grunt in affirmation, and the door opens to reveal her holding a few items: your favourite candle from the lounge, a hot chocolate, your favourite cookies, and the oil you often used to massage Leah whenever her muscles were giving her some discomfort.
"Maybe I could give you a massage, babe? I am sorry. I appreciate all you do for me, I was just being an idiot before who didn't know when to stop. I love that you cook for me, and eating dinner with you at the end of a long day is one of my favourite things, genuinely. I'm really sorry for making that stupid comment, I am." Leah tells you softly, an air of desperation to her voice. Through all the times she loves to piss you off, nothing made her feel worse than when you truly got angry at her.
"You must really be sorry if you're letting me eat in bed." You comment quietly, referring to the pack of cookies in her arms. She smiles and nods, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.
"I am sorry. Get crumbs everywhere if you want, get your revenge." She replies and a weight lifts off her chest when you giggle slightly. "I love you, truly, madly, deeply. I'm so grateful for you and everything you do."
You reluctantly smile up at her from where you lay, then roll your eyes and hold your arms out for her.
"Come here, you massive idiot." You mutter, watching amused as she rushes to put her things on the bedside table before diving on top of you. "You're a wanker, number six."
Leah laughs into the pillow at the reference, nodding her head in agreement. She turns her face into your neck and places a few light, apologetic kisses there.
"I am." She murmurs, sighing a little and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "I wouldn't appreciate it if you started shouting that at my football games though."
"I don't appreciate you reciting a ninety's song in your apology though. Get some original material next time." You hit back, a smug grin on your face as she laughs again.
"I'll sing it for you if you want." Leah offers, voice slightly muffled by your neck as your body shakes with laughter.
"I think that would reverse all your efforts." You say, her humming in agreement. "Now, did you say something about a massage?"
The next morning, Leah believes all is forgiven from the previous night. But just to be sure, she hops out of bed since she's the first to wake up and decides to bring you a coffee in bed before you both were due to go out for breakfast with friends. It's a delight you welcome immediately, sighing contently when the hot mug is placed into your hands as you sit up against the headboard. Leah joins you in bed again, copying your position, and wraps an arm around you as well as kissing your forehead. She mumbles a few more words of apology into your ear as you drink, ensuring that you know how grateful she is for everything you do. You also welcome that with open arms, happy to hear her feelings towards you when she's not being an irritating little pest.
She watches you the whole time you get dressed for the day, and there's a soft smile on her face as she stood in the bathroom doorway whilst you put your earrings in, the finishing touch of your outfit. You mirror the smile she wears when she steps forward and wraps her arms around your waist, murmuring endless compliments into your ear that send shivers down your spine. It's a sickeningly sweet moment, it would rot any witnesses' teeth had they been there to see it, but it's perfect and it's the couple that you recognise rather than the bickering one from the previous night.
You exit the bathroom together, your fingers intertwined as Leah leads you down the stairs. Though, just as you're about to leave, you spot a smudge mark on your cheek from your mascara in the mirror by the door, so you stop to fix it. Leah, with the patience of a toddler, somehow finds yet another ball and it's one you can't stab this time since it's a Euros 2022 ball. Even though she has just done her hair, begging you to straighten it for her, she starts doing headers. And that's where the morning takes a turn for the worst.
When you'd finished fixing your makeup, you head to the downstairs bathroom to quickly wash your hands. Then you hear a panicked shout, followed by a loud bang, and lastly the sound of glass smashing. Instinctively, you rush out the room to see if Leah's okay, thinking the worst, but it seems that the only damage she has is to her ego. And, subsequently, to her relationship.
The sight that greets you fills you with more fury than you'd ever felt in your life. Your mirror, the antique one you had been adamant at buying when decorating the house, lay broken on the ground. The frame was cracked, it was surrounded by glass, and the ball laying next to it was very clearly the offending weapon. The culprit cowered in the corner of the hallway, looking at you and waiting for a reaction.
And boy did it come.
The walls of the house shook with the scale of your voice as Leah flinched like she was physically impacted by each punch that your words delivered. Nothing offensive or harmful was said of course, but your language was certainly colourful and impactful. Each word was spat with a lethal amount of venom, and Leah wasn't sure she would ever see the light of day again; living a life banished to her house, individually glueing each piece of the mirror back together as you endlessly lecture her. Eventually though, you did have to take a breath. Leah took one at the same time, though she was a shell of herself as you glared at her.
Composing yourself, you stepped over the mess and opened the front door before turning to Leah with an unnerving smile. She smiled anxiously back at you, and it took everything in you not to laugh at the nervous, apologetic look on her face. At least she knew she had messed up.
The next time you speak, it's like nothing had happened, and that fills Leah with more fear than she'd ever felt in her life. She knows she's in for it when you get back later.
"Come on, my love, we have a breakfast date to attend."
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theunforgvnn · 1 month
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i think im obsessed with leon spiderman au
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Leon's ribs were probably broken, his legs were shaking and he was definitely bleeding yet he didn't seem to care.
“Are you okay?” He quickly ran to you. He sounded stressed and even though you couldn't see it, his facial expression was worried as well.
You just nodded. Maybe you weren't well enough to talk right now, maybe Spider-Man had saved you and was standing in front of you in the flesh.
After a few minutes of silence, you asked. “Are you okay?”
He nodded and added "Ready to go home?"
"Yeah, yeah." He asked you for your address and you had no idea he already knew your address. Not like he was a pervert or a stalker he already knew you and maybe he loved you ever since he met you.
He then opened his arm for you to hug. You were already soaked from falling into the river, so when Leon wrapped his arm around you, you felt warm. Leon panicked even more because you could hear how fast his heart is beating.
Swinging around in Spiderman’s arms was an experience you would never forget. On the other side Leon was sure that it didn’t hurt that much anymore because he was hugging you.
When your feet touch the ground you wanted it to last longer. He stood upside down, watching you. “Take a hot shower when you get home, alright?” You nodded. “Thanks, for everything.” And smiled softly.
"I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-man,that's my job." He simply said.
"You talk like saving someone's life is a normal thing to do, but you do that every day, right?" Leon chuckled.
"I would save you any day, but please don't be in a situation like this again, okay?" But deep down Leon knew that what happened to you was his fault because whenever someone learnt who he really is something always happen to you.
"I'll try." You smiled. Then you waited, you waited without knowing why.
You reached for his mask. Leon took your hand. “Wait.”
"Don't worry, I have no intention of revealing your identity."
You pulled his mask down to his nose. “Can i ?”
"Please..."
And then it happened, the moment Leon had been waiting for years, time stopped the second his lips touched yours. Leon wanted this moment to never end, he wanted you to love Leon S Kennedy not only Spider-Man .
But he broke the kiss first. He adjusted his mask and said, "Take care." this time not caring about changing his voice.
You watched as he swung away and he watched you from an angle where you couldn't see him.
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"Leon ?" You snapped your fingers
“Hm ?” Leon realized he hasn’t been listening to you.
“Oh my god…you’re the one who asked me to tell you what happened yesterday and you’re not even listening. Am i starting to bore you ?”
“No,no you’re not.” He swallowed his food. “I’m sorry,my bad.”
You just smiled. “Well, good thing that Spider-man was there to save me. Y’know he was definitely taller than than the photos you took. He even might be taller than you.”
“Pretty sure we are the same height.” Leon immediately added.
“I'm not sure, I need to see you two together first.” You shrugged. “Then we kissed but i don’t think he liked it.”
“What makes you say that ?”
“He ran away.” You sighed.
Leon didn't respond at first. “You like him ?” He asked instead.
“Doesn’t matter.” You shrugged.
“Why not ?” He asked obviously surprised.
“Leon,he is Spider-man ! Spider-man for god’s sake ! Today Stacey talked to me and asked me if i can introduce her to Spider-man.” You laughed but not because you were happy more like painful.
Leon nodded, you both ate your lunch in silence.
But tonight he will come to your house and kiss you, but this time he won't stop until you do.
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ARGHHH I LOVE HIM
I WASN’T GONNA END IT LIKE THIS BUT I GOT LAZY ☹️☹️
anyways this is kinda translated sooo…. sorry if this fic doesn’t make sense 🙏
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ts-witchy-archive · 9 months
Text
Things I'm Doing to Make my 2024 Witchcraft Practice More Accessible and Consistent
In 2023 I was not very consistent with my practice at all. Between TAFE, university applications, ADHD, my (at one point) 3 jobs and just general life stuff, I haven't had a lot of energy to be consistent and just enjoy my practice. My goal for the coming year is to make my practice as accessible and as fun as possible. I want to practice a lot, I want to do a lot of research and spell work in 2024. So this is a list of a few things I'll be doing to make sure I meet those goals!
Enchanting my skin care with glamours and intentions for clear skin. That way I don't have to remember to say my intentions everyday and it will still have some effect if I forget
Cleaning my altars because I'm way more likely to do stuff if I have a clean space. (obvious I know but i haven't cleaned it for like 6-7 months)
Getting rid of my "only do it if needed rule". Fuck it. I like doing spells. Just because I'm not homeless doesn't mean that I shouldn't do a prosperity spell. It also limits my experiences with spell work
More magical playlists. I have like 20 ideas for what to make I just haven't done it yet lol. I love music more than anything so intention playlists are great options if I want a very quick 'spell'
Make a list of things to post here. I tend to come up with Ideas i've never thought when making tumblr content! Personally, brain storming and content creation counts as part of my practice
Enchanting my water bottle! If I'm hydrating I may as well make it fun (it'll also probably make me more likely to drink water)
Make a list of accessible offerings! I really struggle to give offering because if I don't go the whole 9 yards I feel like a bit of a failure (which is so hypocritical of me given all the things I talk on here). I think have a list will help me get past that first barrier of not knowing what to offer.
Make a shortened version of the offering ritual I do. I am more low energy than not during the school year so this will be very valuable for me
This is the full list as of this moment but this list is for me more than it is for sharing knowledge purposes so I'm okay with not having it 100% finished. If I think of anything else I'll add it and if anyone else has any tips they are very welcomed. Happy new years :)
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blusocket · 5 months
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I've seen some people express some confusion about what Fortnight is about, why it opens the album, what's happening in the video, etc, so here's my attempt at an analysis. For the most part I'll be referring to the characters in the video with the names of the people playing them (Taylor and Post) but at times I'm going to be making direct reference to the events of Taylor's personal life and referring to the muses by their names (Joe and Matty) for the sake of clarity and simplicity.
The song itself uses the suburbia conceit as an extended metaphor for the beginning of her relationship with Matty (he's the neighbor she runs away to Florida with, Joe is the cheating husband.) For more eloquent and detailed thoughts on the narrative of the song you can check out Jaime @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes's post here.
The video is really dense, and I'm not 100% confident in every aspect of my interpretation, but I feel pretty sure that it's making extensive use of visual metaphor in order to tell roughly the same story as the song, just in a different setting. To start, Taylor wakes up chained to a bed in a white dress.
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To me this suggests that she's been driven mad by being left at the altar, and is now trapped, surveilled and controlled, in a type of asylum. This represents the end of her relationship with Joe--waiting for a marriage that never came, feeling trapped, mentally unwell etc.
She then takes 'forget him' pills which reveal Post's tattoos on her face when she looks in the mirror.
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This represents Matty (the "miracle move-on drug") and shows that he made a mark on her while she was still in the asylum--that is, still in her relationship with Joe. Additionally, in the wide shot where we see the mirror, its size and shape are very reminiscent of a one-way mirror, often seen in interrogation rooms and psychological experiments, further reinforcing the idea that Taylor is imprisoned here.
She then is able to go to the typewriter room and do her work, creating art about how she's feeling, shown by her repeatedly typing "I love you, it's ruining my life" on the typewriter. She's still in pain and feeling trapped. While there, she encounters Post and they create art together, which creates beauty and color in her life. The blue and gold obviously reference her writing about Joe, but the fact that her work is gold and Post's is blue may be a deliberate choice to draw parallels between Matty and Joe, as she does on numerous songs throughout TTPD.
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The next scene, where Taylor's hair is down and she and Post are wearing the same black coat and pants, takes place inside her head (symbolized by the shape of the papers they're laying on.) She is dreaming about them being free and creating art together, represented by the papers surrounding them and book she's holding, which has the word "us" written on the cover. She's writing their story before it's begun.
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She then reaches for his hand in her fantasy, accepting and asking for this relationship
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Then we see that she's being studied and experimented on--the results of the lie detector test read "I love you, it's ruining my life." Her pain is an object of fascination.
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Interestingly, Post is part of the group experimenting on her, but when the experiments begin to cause her pain, he liberates her.
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This inspires Taylor to destroy the place where she's been trapped, which we see through her opening the filing cabinets that cover the walls and destroying the mirror. I also find the shot of her standing still while papers burn around her interesting and significant; I interpret this as Taylor destroying her own work about Joe. By choosing to leave, she is metaphorically burning--rejecting--the story she wrote about them.
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Finally, Taylor and Post enter the dangerous outside world together; the rain echoes the lyric "I chose this cyclone with you" on the album's title track. While I do feel the meaning of Post being in the phone booth is somewhat ambiguous, the framing and the accompanying lyric--"I've been calling ya but you won't pick up" suggest that he's attempting to communicate with her but can't reach her. They are free of her prison, but still separated.
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Then, he hangs up the phone and reaches for her hand, and she takes it. The final shot of the video is a close up on their linked hands, presenting us with a cautiously optimistic ending--they are lost and vulnerable in the middle of a storm, but they have each other.
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I feel this is a somewhat less sinister, for lack of a better word, portrayal of the start of Matty and Taylor's relationship than is suggested elsewhere on the record, though I believe Post's character being part of the group experimenting on her is significant and the editing creates some ambiguity about exactly when and why she decides to break free. But I hope this clarifies how the video sets up the beginning of this story, the fallout of which is then chronicled over the course of the rest of TTPD.
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deformedcat · 6 months
Text
The 5 love language
pairing: artist male y/n x childhood friend oc
warning: vomiting, stalking, obsessive behaviour, gore, open ending, not proof read, v rushed 📣📣
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Valentine's Day, a day to spend with your loved ones, something you didn't have.
Forget spending Valentine's day with anyone- you had work at the convenience store. Sure, you're an artist, but money won't magically appear onto your kitchen counter.
Despite that, it didn't bother you as much as the sight you saw around you that day. (though bother might not be fitting, more like envious) There were couples everywhere on dates, holding hand and showing their affection towards each other. Bleh. (translation: when is it my turn?)
Either way, you could complain all you want but life still goes on. Sighing, you walk towards your apartment, staring down at your phone to avoid the sights of couples. It wasn't until an envelope at your door caught your attention.
The envelope had a simple yet design with a heart shape sticker on it, you hesitantly take it and enter your apartment.
After sitting on your couch for abit, you cautiously and gradually opens the letter, wary of any potential pranks, but nothing happened.
"Dear y/n
Happy Valentine's day, well, it's not Valentine's day yet but it will be soon.
I've always had a big crush on you, but i never gotten the chance to confess to you directly. Truth to be told, i'm not a courageous person, but you give me the strength to do so today :).
You are the most strongest, admirable person I've met. Whenever i listen to your music, I'm hit in awe with how talented you are. I fall even harder everytime i see you. Your presence is already enough for me to keep going.
Do you know the saying "the 5 love language"? They are words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time, and physical touch. I would love to know which one is your love language, but instead of asking, I want to let you experience all of them. I aim to make you feel loved in every way possible, starting with words of affirmation!"
..Ah.
A secret admirer,,?
You honestly didn't know something so cliche that would be done in a high school romance movie would happened to yourself, in real life.
The rest of the kettle had you fuming like a kettle, was this person a fan of poets? They sure had their way with words.
As sweet as the letter sounds, you couldnt help but feel crept out by this, how much does this person knows you? Do you even know this person?
You could only hope that it's not someone creepy, like a stalker.. You opened your phone and take a picture of the letter, sending it to your childhood bestfriend.
y/n:
photo.jpeg
hyeon:
?
what's this?
y/n:
love letter,
saw it in front of my
apartment
hyeon:
does someone have a lil crush on little y/n :0?
y/n:
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hyeon:
Daniel's got a competitor 😄
y/n:
NEVER
im forever loyal to daniel
👎👎
hyeon:
haha
why are you showing me this?
y/n:
idk
felt a lil crept out
dont u think its weird??
how did they know where i lived? idfk who they are
hyeon:
hmm, thats true.
maybe it's a neighbour? they mentioned they could hear your music, they might be living around your area ?
y/n:
that make it even worse
hyeon:
lock your doors and windows, you wouldnt want to entice your little 'admirer' to break in do you?
y/n:
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gtg, bye
hyeon:
i was just joking D:!
I'll be back from Russia soon, i promise <3
y/n
mm, maybe dont.
take care tho
A few days went by and nothing happened, you were beginning to wonder if the letter was just a prank from the kids around the area.
Regardless, you didn't care, you were to tired from your work ealier. Getting yelled at by your manager in front of the customers, for something rather silly. (you looked really tired but manager took it as "mf u dont like ur work isit) This was far fron the first time, and not the worst thing that had happened, but it didn't make it less draining.
you went into your apartment, turned on the light and fell right onto your couch. Rent was due in 3 weeks,, you were mentally preparing yourself to starve for the next few days to be able to have a roof under your head.
everything was tiring you out, and you just want a car to come running into you already, but the house isn't going to clean itself. You had to do chores because you have been putting off chores for a few days now. It's going to pile up the more you tell yourself "i'll do it tomorrow." so you pushes your body off the couch to start.
maybe you can start by taking out the trash.
problem was, the trash was missing. you stared at the empty, new plastic bag over the trash you didn't remember replacing. are you hallucinating?
you went over the sink to wash the dishes, to find them cleaned and kept neatly inside the cabinet. huh.
you must be going crazy, you were sure you did not wash those dishes nor keep them. even if you did, you wouldn't store them as neat as this.
are you going insane?
you quickly check the laundry, and sure enough, they were all done up. the dirty clothes were washed, the one that you didn't bother folding was folded and put away in your bedroom. Neatly.
was your landlord here this morning? Even if he was, he wouls never done something like this. He only ever told you to stop being so lazy and clean the messy apartment. He even once demanded you to clean everything up while be watched but thats it.
you hit your head against the wall, hard, to check if you had not actually fallen asleep on the couch and this was all just a dream. you winced at the pain on your forehead, that sure gave you an answer that youre not hallucinating.
maybe you're just overworked..?
you sat on your bed, noticing a familiar envelope with another sticker on your pillow.
what the fuck.
you opened the envelope, which in it read,
"dear y/n,
Surprise, it's an act of service this time! you're so hardworking that you tire yourself out,, so i decided to do somethinf to lighten the load for you. Remember to take a break when you need it okay?
I also cooked dinner for you, it's your favourite :). They're in the fridge, please enjoy, it's not healthy to starve yourself.
Eternally yours,
Your secret admirer 💌"
you wanted to kill yourself.
your stalker is in fact, a stalker.
how did they get in your house?
how did they know your habits?
you didn't even bother eating the food in the fridge, letting it sit there as you spend the night searching for cameras in your house.
y/n:
hyeon,
they broke in
the mf that sent the letter broke in
photo.jpeg
hyeon:
broke in?
how? didn't i told you to lock the doors and windows?
y/n:
idfk hyeon
they broke in and like
did my chores
and even cook dinner for me
saying its an act of service
hyeon:
are you safe?
y/n:
i dont know am i
i know this sounds weird af but im
not joking
i dont feel safe in my house rn
hyeon:
call the police.
y/n:
with what evidence
tell them that someone sent two envelope, broke into my bouse, did my chores and cooked a meal for me??
ill sound like a maniac
then they'll send me to a mental hospital
hyeon:
you'll never know unless you try,
y/n, this sound dangerous, your life could be on the line bere.
please just call the police and see if they can do anything about it.
do you still have that previous letter with you?
y/n:
yeah
hyeon:
show that to them, including the new one.
y/n:
ok
ill try
hyeon:
okay.
i wish i wasnt in russia right now.
im so sorry, please wait a bit more, ill come back soon.
update me whenever you can.
y/n:
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dont be sorry,
thank you.
you never had a peaceful sleep for the next few days, the only thing keeping you sane is messaging hyeon everyday.
you have been so worn out from what happened that night. you had gone to the police, but after they didnt found anything suspicious in your house besides the two letter, they then left and told you to contact them if anything happened.
useless. you texted to hyeon.
neither did the police nor you could find any hidden cameras around your house, but that didnt mean you were safe. they could missed them, or not search at the right place.
you were sitting on your couch, scrolling down your phone to distract what had happened. suddenly, someone knocked on your door.
you groaned, thinking it was your landlord, you got up, walked to your door and peek from the peephole. nobody was there.
you opened the door slowly, immediately notices the stench behind the door. sitting on the floor in the dark hallway were two boxes wrapped like gifts with a gold ribbon.
crimson liquid was seeping through the boxes, on top of one of the box was an envelope, the one you had received a few days prior.
you suppressed the urge to throw up as you felt your breath getting quicker and shallower. you opened your phone and called the police and messaged hyeon
y/n
hyeon
when the polices arrived, they opened the boxes and envelope. one of the polices seems panickes and quickly rushes to you bringing the envelope, making you read it.
"Dear y/n,
Two, the number of hands one would need to do a heart, i thought it would be romantic to give you two gifts. After all, what's Valentine's day without gifts?
I've seen the way those two treated you, i couldnt stand watching them mistreated you. How prideful that human trash must be to push all his mistakes onto you then punishes you? Just because he's a manager? You don't deserve that, dear, so, this is for you.
And that bastard landlord of yours, the way he stares at you and put his hand at you is so disgusting. If he's gonna look at you like that, he don't deserve his eyes. Just because he's your landlord, does not mean he can put his hand on you like that, so i cut them off.
i hope you enjoy the gifts, dear. I guess this can be considered to be acts of service too? I look foward to spending some quality time with you. I can't wait to finally have you in my arm.
ps. inside the hand of your manager is a necklace. <3
Eternally yours,
Your secret admirer 💌"
you glanced at the content of the boxes, puking at the side after seeing the blood hand of your manager and your landlord's head with his eyes gouge out.
you felt helpless.
you had nowhere to go.
you didnt wanna stay here anymore, you dont feel safe anywhere.
you just want to die.
as the police patting your backs and gives you a bottle of water, you receives a text message on his phone.
hyeon:
hey, i'm here now.
i'm sorry i couldn't reply to you earlier, i just arrived in south korea.
y/n:
hyeon thank god
please
can i stay at your place for a while
i cant stay here anymore
hyeon:
Of course, i'll pick you up.
when you finally met hyeon, you collapsed into the taller man's arm, letting the tears out you have been holding in as hyeon holds you close, embracing you in much needed warmth and comfort.
"here," hyeon placed down a plate of fried rice in front of you, coincidentally it being your favourite food but you dont have any appetite after what happened.
"i can tell you havent been eating well, it's all i have at the moment, but its better than nothing."
you appreciated him, but didnt wanna eat anything at the moment, the sight of your landlors was still fresh in your mind.
"thanks, but i feel really sick right now." you felt bad for putting hyeon through the trouble, only to turn it down in the end. "i'll heat it up and have it tomorrow."
"maybe you at least drink some water?"
"sure." Hyeon was already pouring a warm cup of water for you, you were glad you at least had hyeon to come to.
you two spent a while in an awkward silence, it was like hyeon would not ask what had happened until you were ready to talk about it yourself.
"do you have work later?" you asked to distract yourself.
No, hyeon had alarms around the house. He would be notified of any suspicious activities detected.
"no, my manager said he'll take care of it."
"oh.."
then the silence were back again, until hyeon opened his mouth.
"are you going to sleep now?"
"I.." you were sure you would not be able to sleep tonight, you do not know where that stalker was, what if they too breaks into hyeon's house? will you put him in danger as well?
Even so, you're still on edge.
"do you want to share a room?"
"what?"
"you don't have to sleep alone when i'm right here for you to cuddle with!"
you sighed, "hyeon-"
"no really, maybe im just overprotective but i really dont want to leave you alone. We can catch up on the past month, and maybe if i talk enough, it might put you to sleep?"
you cried into his arms for the second time that night.
you could not remember the last time you was help to sleep, you didnt think there was ever a time actually. when he slept besides hyeon, the latter would always wrap his body around you like a koala.
not that it surprised you, hyeon had always been handsy with you ever since the two was young, but only around him.
whenever they ate together, hyeon would reach his hand out to wipe a grain of rice or a drop of sauce off your face.
whenever they play fight, hyeon would always hug you as a way to "immobilize you". when hyeon suggested decorating the house for Valentine's day to take your mind off of things, he would hold your hand and guide you through tying ribbons and hanging decorations.
And when you still couldnt stop the anxiety from rising, hyeon would hold you so close, no matter what time it is, he would remind you to breathe, and prepare plastic bags for you in case you pukes.
Heck, he even made sure that you had fallen asleep first before he would.
you felt safe by hyeon's side.
On the morning of Valentine's day, hyeon was still asleep which was expected, he had waited for you to fall asleep the night before.
You carefully and quietly slipped out of hyeon's tight hold, and headed towards the washroom, you decided to clean hyeon's office then cook a meal for him.
walking toward hyeon's office, you noticed a few paperwork on his table. It seems like it was the paperwork hyeon's had been doing last evening.
His handwriting was exceptionally neat, it had been quite some time you last seen it, but you could remember envying the man for having such a neat writing.
you noticed a half opened file on the floor, you picked it up and read the content of the files out of curiousity
they were mostly a bunch of statistics and numbers, percentages and whatnot. you wanted to stop reading but you felt drawn in his handwriting. To you, it looked familiar, like you've seen it before.
you stared longer at the words until you realized,
realized why he found it familiar.
you flipped to the next page, why did hyeon have your landlord personal informations?
you felt arms hugging you from behind, "what are you doing, snooping around my work like that? what if it's confidential?'
you didnt answer.
"y/n?" hyeon seemed to noticed you tensing up, "sorry, did i scare you that badly? you just seemed so focused on those papers, i just had to-"
"Hyeon."
"Yeah?"
You didnt know what to say, you did not know what to ask. You didnt know how to ask him.
you wish you were just dreaming.
Because.. wasnt hyeon in russia all this time?
"y/n?"
Hyeon couldnt have been in south korea. He couldnt have went into your apartment. He couldnt have place those.. letters abd boxes in your apartment if he wasnt even in the same country as you
ah.
"y/n, are you okay?"
"hyein,, can i take a look at your passport?"
"my passport? why?"
"i just want to.. confirm something."
Hyeon looked at you for a while, before letting go of you "sure, let me go get it."
As he went back to his room, you held ontobthe table tightly to avoid collapsing.
its okay.
you just had to look into his passport, then you would realize how dumb you are to suspect hyeon, the person that sheltered you when you had nowhere to go. the man that's your childhood friend who would sacrifice anything for you-
Hyeon returned, with his passport in hand. "here you go." you were about to take the passport from hum until you saw it
or more like the lack of it.
instead of handing the passport to you normally, hyeon had flipped it to the latest page. Hyeon had supposedly flew to russia first of december last year.
The last time he travelled, according to the passport,
was back in june.
"you were wondering about this, werent you?" hyeon stepped closer towards you, "when did it click?"
"your handwriting you bastard."
"ah right, that was my mistake, but dont you think it took too long for you to notice?"
Hyeon took the papers one by one, putting them together neatly, as if he was having the most normal and mundane conversation.
As if he wasnt the one that sent you all of that letters.
As if he was not the one who broke into your apartment.
As if he didnt sent that severed head and hands to you..
"i guess i should expected that, after all, i'm never the one whom you'll ever have eyes for, am i?" he smiled bitterly.
"Hyeon.." you wanted to be proven wrong, you wanted to be wrong so bad.
you wanted to believe hyeon was not capable of this.
you wanted to believe him, your closest friend, would never do such thing.
instead, you received a hug that felt so cold.
you wanted to strangle hyeon so bad. you wanted to strangle yourself.
you just felt so weak.
as much as you wanted to avoid it, the clues were all right in front of you, mocking you.
there was no one in the world who had heard and appreciated your music, who observed and knew so much of your lifestyle and habits besides ivan.
when the puzzle started coming together, you could feel yourself falling apart.
"so y/n, please tell me:
what is your favourite love language?"
you just want to die.
[draft messages]
y/n:
thanks for taking me in
im glad i hv u in my lufe
you better not tell anyone i said this,
but i dont think theres anyone else i trust
anyone else more than you
thank you.
a/n: zzzzz goodnight (disappears)
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cripplecharacters · 2 months
Note
How to go about writing tics? I have tics but I never know how to write them naturally, especially cause I often forget I even have them. To me it's like describing blinking or something? But I of course want the character to notably have tics, even though my internal experience of tics isn't very noticeable to me? If that makes sense?
Hello!
Jerk, California by Jonathan Friesen is a book about a character (Sam) with Tourette's syndrome, written by an author who also has Tourette's. One of the things I really appreciated about the book was that it described Sam's tics in a way that made sense with how they felt as somebody with Tourette's.
In the book, Sam's tics are generally described when they're relevant. Usually, this is either to show that he's upset/otherwise worked up about something or as a way to build tension within the narrative itself. Although it doesn't necessarily mean that Sam isn't ticcing otherwise, it came across as the tics being more noticeable in those moments -- which I felt was a nice touch.
Consider the following passage from the book:
I glance around. My muscles don't jerk, and I close my eyes. I breathe deep, and like the third runner who finally catches up, the overtakes me. Slowly at first–a hard eyeblink. But that's not enough; there's more that has to work its way out, and my teeth grind. Movement spreads to my shoulder, and soon my whole body springs to twitchy life.
Even without the rest of the context of the scene, the description of his tics is enough to convey how he's feeling in the moment.
In the more mellow portions of the book, his tics aren't generally described at all, which helps it to feel more calm.
Another thing I liked it that they're described in the same way as any other action or movement.
This is another passage from the book:
The class groans, Heather swears, and my shoulder jumps. My elbow knocks my textbook to the floor with a thump.
Although the author doesn't explicitly say that Sam is ticcing, we as readers can get that idea from the way it's described. Essentially, this is to say that you don't need to explicitly specify when something is a tic or not – your audience will generally pick up on it.
With verbal tics (Especially ones that involve speech), it can be a bit harder. There's a kind of balance you want to strike between showing the tics and still making sure that the dialogue is readable.
While discussing verbal tics that occur outside of dialogue (i.e. Not interrupting the character's speech), I'd suggest marking the tic as such through dialogue tags. Words such as "blurted" or "exclaimed" can imply an unintentional aspect to the speech.
You could also describe how the character is experiencing the tic themself (If it's from their POV).
This is another passage from Jerk, California:
"No thanks, Jace. I'll stay with Sam." "Hah!" The word fires from my mouth. I purse my lips and bite my swollen tongue, but my vocal cords are locked and there's nothing I can do. "Stay with Sam! Stay with Sam!"
If you're writing in the POV of another character, you could describe how it looks from their perspective. Though I'd be careful with this, as it can come across as mockery if it's not done well.
With verbal tics that do interrupt dialogue, be careful to ensure it's not too frequent as it can make it difficult to read. I'd also suggest using some sort of formatting to identify tics vs general dialogue.
An example could be: (Note: This is not from the book)
"You know, I don't think–hey!–that would be a good idea."
That said, you would have to establish that the character has tics beforehand (And, ideally, establish this speech pattern as such), otherwise it can look more like an interruption or something similar.
I'd definitely suggest taking a glance through some books about characters with tics, just to see the format that other authors use. There's a wide range of options out there and the book I referenced here is just one of many ways to do it.
Cheers,
~ Mod Icarus
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kunaigirl · 27 days
Text
Long post ahead, but I really want to talk about this...I think? Oh lord here we go, lol. Anyways, confession time!
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I struggled with illiteracy and learning to read for a chunk of my life. I've mentioned it (in passing) in this post that I made about my experiences with having epilepsy, but I decided to make an whole post just for this for a change.
Somewhere around when I was in the second grade, I lost my ability to read and write due to a bad seizure I had. (That combined with the medications I was given too.) A lot of my memories are blank from that era, except for a very few instances I remember clearly. What I do remember though, has nothing to do with the seizure or even what lead up to it, all of that's still gone to this day.
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I had lost my ability to read, and also was diagnosed with dyslexia during the quest to re-learn from scratch. (On top of already being diagnosed with ADHD when I was about 6.) I remember very vividly how HORRIBLE everything felt. I couldn't remember the names of things, and I had to re-learn, from preschool up, both reading and writing from scratch.
Somewhat luckily, I didn't lose anything else besides those chunks of memories and my ability to read, and I still remembered who I was, what cartoons I liked, my favorite music, etc. But suddenly, I couldn't read the CD titles anymore. I couldn't read the VHS covers. It was gone, ripped away from me very suddenly, and I knew it was missing. I knew that I already learned how to read and write, but it was forced out of me by a malfunctioning brain. I was home schooled because of it from grades 3rd-5th. (2003-2005)
In the third grade, I had made just enough progress to get books for 5 year olds. Everyone around me acted so proud, but all I could do was cry. I was humiliated. I felt so incredibly stupid, as being illiterate leaves you with no choice but to feel stupid. I threw those baby books around my room and sat on the floor crying. It wasn't fair, I didn't do anything wrong, it was my damn seizures. I had no control.
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When I went back to public school for 6th grade, I got called stupid, the r-slur, illiterate, slow, basically every name in the book. Both kids and adults, all throughout those years while I continued to re-learn in real time. In middle school, my reading level was still low for my age, and I had to be in a special program with extra assistance and teacher accommodations. As soon as word got out, the kids were RELENTLESS. It was 06-07, nobody cared about bullying/etc, especially for a public middle school. The bullying never stopped.
I kept working and studying, slowly making progress. Years of struggling, learning to cope, inventing my own short-cuts to help read a little easier, using rulers and paper edges to help guide my eyes, everything. I was still in "special" classes with accommodations all through high school too. My senior year of high school, I graduated on the honor role list. Did that make me happy? It felt nice for sure, but better? Not by much. I knew how hard I still struggled, and still felt very embarrassed by it all. I'll never forget.
As a kid, the pain I felt was so intense. Physically from the seizure, and in every other way with having to re-learn how to spell t-r-e-e. Starting over with pre-K toddler books at 7. Kindergarten level at age 8, and a first grade level as a 9 year old. The feeling of having my memories ripped away just enough to leave me unable to recognize the symbols that decorated everything from posters to TV to book covers. Being told by a room full of doctors and neurologists what had happened, and being quizzed and tested to see what I still had left.
I have never forgotten those long nights. Even though I was a child, the shame and guilt and fear I felt were VERY real and very tense. And the jokes/remarks from both kids AND adults, the notebooks filled with raw squiggly anger, the uphill climb to regain what was taken from me. I will NEVER forget it. Even in college, I struggled with those heavy textbooks and their tiny fonts. I did well enough, but no one else struggled the way I did with them. I did my work and wrote my essays, but it would take full entire days. It still does.
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At times, as an adult, I still get stuck on words. I can obviously read and write again, as you can see with this exact post, but it's not over. I struggle with certain fonts, and some books are just to difficult. I still work at it and still try as hard as I can even to this very goddamn day. It never truly ended, all these years later, 20 years later, I still sometimes fight to understand. I feel like an angry and humiliated kid again in those moments, but I'm not that kid or teen anymore. I lived thought it somehow.
I had a dream back when I was 17, where I'm standing in from of my 9 year old self and that pile of baby books. She's crying and looking at me, desperately. I walk over and hug her, proudly telling her "We read The Great Gatsby in high school, and we understand it."
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To anyone who has struggled with illiteracy at non-toddler-points in their lives, I see you. To anyone who's struggled with reading comprehension, I see you. To anyone who struggled with writing, I see you. We don't talk about it enough, and I want to change that. I don't want to hide that side of my life experience anymore. Fuck shame, we climbed out of it.
And to this day, a copy of "The Great Gatsby" is still on my shelf. Because I read it in high school, and 9 year old me would've thought that was the coolest achievement ever.
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Text
Teething baby
𖤐Pairing: Husband! Ghost x Wife! Reader
𖤐Pronouns: She/Her
𖤐Warnings: Pure tooth rotting fluff, child, married couple, crying, daddy Ghost, flirting, teething child
Ghost was taking care of the baby while Y/n was away for a Girls Trip
He hasn’t been able to do much on the father experience because of him working
But he does his best to take care of her while she is starting to teeth
—————
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——————
7:30AM
"So, you have everything? Food, milk and my number in case something happens?"
"Love, don't worry everything will be okay. I have everything under control."
"But I'm just worried, I'll be gone for a week."
"I know and you'll have a blast, you'll honestly probably forget we even exist...you'll run off with a Supermodel and start a new life."
"I would never, don't say that," Y/n hits his chest.
"I know, but everything will be okay, and I'll call if anything happens, okay?"
"Okay."
"Good, now, go enjoy the sun in Bora Bore," Ghost said, while he had his hands placed on his wife's waist.
"Okay..." she looked at the playmat that was in the middle of the living room. She walks over and bends down to her baby girl, Luna. "Ohh my baby," she says as she picks up her 3-month-old daughter.
Y/n kissed her daughters' puffy cheeks. "I'll be back Saturday," she told her daughter like she could understand her.
Y/n placed her daughter back on the playmat. She grabbed her bag and stood on her tippy toes to kiss Ghost's lips.
"Bye."
"Bye-bye, love," he kissed her again.
She walked outside and saw her best friend's car sitting in the driveway waiting on her.
"Sorry." Y/n apologized.
"Girl, don't come on, this is going to be EXCITING!! Hi, Simon," she greets Simon.
"Hi, Lydia," Ghost waved bye to both girls.
He back stepped inside the house and looked at his daughter on her stomach hitting the playmat. He rubbed his temple wondering what to do first then he caught a whiff of something.
"Guess my first thing to do is change that bomb of a diaper you have," he said, picking her up and giving her another whiff to make sure it was her, "Ohhhh! Yeah, that's you," he said as he went upstairs to her nursey to change her.
---------
A few minutes later
Ghost sat on the couch with Luna on his bare chest, she was trying to put her fist in her mouth, but Ghost kept moving it from her mouth. She whined anytime he moved it.
"Stop," he grumbles. He was looking down at his phone trying to get advice from Price. Price is a father for 5 and took care of his children when his wife is gone.
Luna is Ghosts and Y/n's first child and sometimes still need help. Ghost was wondering what he did with his kids when his wife was gone?
Price: *We usually have fun like park, waterpark, shopping and sometimes playdate, but since she's still a baby, you probably can't do much*
"Great," he said to himself. "I'll think of something for us to do, while mama is gone."
Ghost looked down at his child and smiled at her. He kissed the top of her head and picked her up. He robbed his nose on hers and kissed her forehead.
"Maybe we can go...to grandmas and grandpas house? Actually, maybe not...they weren't happy when your mama started dating me and married me...maybe not. I do need groceries though," he said to her.
Ghost took her to her nursery and got a small dress on her and placed her in her baby carrier and he got his shirt on, jeans and grabbed some shoes.
He grabbed his keys and drove them to the store. He made sure she was strapped in the car as he drives. Every now and then looked in the rearview mirror to make sure she was okay.
She was asleep, she needed it, she kept Y/n and him up all night, so she needed it along with him. If she stays asleep for a while, he could probably get a nap in as well.
He pulled into a parking spot and got her out of the car. He placed her carrier in the cart and walked in, she was still asleep as they walked through the aisles.
"Mmmm~" Luna stirred in her sleep, he stopped the cart and looked down at her waiting for her eyes to open.
"Hi, baby," he coos.
*WAAAAAAAAAAAA*
Ghost jumps and looks down at her crying face. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he picks her up from the carrier. "You have some strong lungs on you, pretty girl."
"Oh, is everything okay?" A girl came walking around the corner seeing Ghost comforting his daughter.
"Yeah, she's...probably hungry..." he digs through the bag getting a bottle. He brings it to her mouth, but she pushes it away.
"Come on, baby," he says.
"Are you sure maybe, she needs her diaper change?"
"No, she's got a bomb on her, I would know."
Ghost looks at and saw something in her mouth, a peak of something white, he started to worry. "What is that?"
"Oh, maybe I can help, I can help a single father with his child," she pushed herself against him, but Ghost moved away from her.
"I'm married, I'll just call me wife and ask," he put her back down in the carrier and walk out of the store heading back to his car.
He placed her in the car and sat in the backseat with her as he called his wife.
"Ghost? Is everything okay?" She asks, worried about her husband and child.
"I don't know, I went to the store, and she was asleep, but she woke up screaming and crying. She wasn't hungry or needed a change, but I saw in her mouth something white. I couldn't get a good look at it, so I don't know what it is." Ghost panics.
"Simon, check her mouth again," poor Luna was still crying and somewhat hard to hear her. He pulls down her bottom lip and saw the white thing again.
"I think...it's a tooth."
"MY BABY HAS HER FIRST TOOTH AND I'M NOT THERE!!" Y/n yells.
"It's okay, little mamas, I'll take care of everything, I'll get her-"
"Teething supplies are at home, Lydia bought some when I was pregnant with her. She gave them to me at the baby shower."
"Okay..." he looks at her crying face as Y/n hung up and Ghost gave Luna a stuffed baby toy to chew on till they can get home.
---------
"Y/n? What's going on?" Lydia asked.
"Simon, called...Luna has her first tooth coming in."
"OH, THAT'S EXCITING!!" Their other friend Zoe came sitting next to them. "I remember when Xander got his first tooth."
"Simon was a little nervous..." she said as the girls laughed.
"Ladies...I'm-"
"Jack Oscar, the famous Supermodel."
"Oh...Supermodel..." Y/n said, while looking at Jack who was very toned. She put her sunglasses back on her face.
"You...look beautiful," Jack said.
"I'm married," Y/n said, crossing her legs and leaned back in her chair.
---------
Ghost got a teething toy for Luna, it was light pink with different textures on it, she snatched it from him started to teeth it.
He chuckled when she looked satisfied chewing on it. Ghost opened the drawer and saw the different chewing toys for her, some were purple and blue with different textures on them, others were circular and had ridges in them to scratch her gums.
"Wow, that's a lot."
*WAAAAA* Luna threw the pink one and made grabby hands for a new one, Ghost dug around and picked another random one, but she threw that one, she wanted to be picked up.
He picked her up and showed her the drawer filled with teething toys. She made grabby hands to a blue one, he let her get it and she started to chew on it.
He took her back to the playmat and laid her back on it. She smiled rolled back on her stomach. Ghost sat on the couch turning the TV on and watched his daughter to make sure she wouldn't do anything.
Luna stopped chewing and looked back at Ghost, she cried for her daddy's attention. He smiled and crawled to his daughter getting down to her level, he laid on his back as she got up top of his chest and she playfully hit his chest.
"Oh ah, ow, you got me," he jokes with her. She smiles and falls on his chest. Ghost chuckled and then he heard soft snores come from her, he looked at his chest and saw her asleep.
"Well, if you're going to sleep...I am too..." he said, putting his arm behind his head and his hand rested on his daughters back.
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10:45PM
Ghost woke to the TV still playing and Luna was still asleep on his chest, he smiles and picked her up gently and slowly so he wouldn't wake her up.
He placed her in her crib draping a blanket on her, he turned on the baby monitor and he was about to close the door and he left the lamp on letting her sleep.
"Good night, little baby," he whispers before shutting the door. He rubbed his temple and heard his phone ping. He looked down and saw some pictures Y/n sent.
Ones where she was at the beach, her legs in the photo of the clear blue scene, her drinking from a coconut, her friends in the back having fun and then one with Jack Oscar in the back holding Lydias waist.
"Is that Jack Oscar?" He asks. "A Supermodel..."
Y/n sent another one, she was in a fishnet dress with a black two piece underneath the fishnet dress, she looked incredibly sexy in it. Ghost smirked knowing he has this beautiful, lady as his wife.
Simon: *You look beautiful*
Wife: *Thank you...is everything okay there?*
Simon: *Just perfect...she's in bed asleep...I gave her a few teething toys and she's been calm since we've been home. I saw Jack Oscar was there*
Wife: *Yeah, he's apparently there for a photoshoot, him and Lydia seemed to be getting along*
Simon: *Supermodel...has he said anything?*
Wife: *He said I was hot...*
Simon: *P.O.S. don't worry love...I got hit it on today by some woman, she called me a 'single father'*
Wife: *Bitch*
Ghost laughed. He got in the middle of the bed and looked down at his phone.
Wife: *Did you get groceries?*
Simon: *No...I'll go back tomorrow. This time I'll be more prepared*
Wife: *Yeah and avoid any thirsty and hungry women*
Simon: *I'll try, love...good night*
Wife: *Good night, Simon*
Ghost turned his phone off and placed it on his charger and looked at the baby monitor seeing Luna was on her back instead of her stomach.
He smiled and closed his eyes finally going to sleep.
---------
1:00AM
*WAAAAAAA* Ghost's eyes shot open, and he looked at the baby monitor seeing Luna was awake, she sat up grabbing the bars of her crib with a blood curdling scream.
"I'm coming, baby," Ghost rubbed his forehead and started to make his way out of his bedroom to her nursery.
He pushed opened the bedroom door and saw her teary eyes.
"Alright, come on, baby girl," he picked her up and took her to the changing table, changing her diaper. Her cries soon stopped when he picked her up. He kissed her forehead and picked her back up and took her downstairs to heat up a bottle for her.
He had her in his arms, he grabbed a milk pouch and poured it in a bottle, he set it in the bottle warmer and looked down at his little girl.
"It'll be ready in a minute, baby," he said, kissing her puffy, tear stained cheeks.
The machine beeped, letting him know the bottle was warmed up. He tested the milk on his skin seeing if it was hot or just right, and it was perfectly fine.
He sat down on the couch, leaning back and propping her up so he could feed her. She suckled on the bottle as she looked up at him.
The bottle was done, and he placed the bottle next to him on the couch and put a towel under Luna's chin to catch her spit up. He patted her back and she spit up on the towel.
"That's why I did that, you spit up every time and half of the time we never catch it," he said, wiping her face with the clean end of the towel and tossed the towel in the laundry room.
He took her back upstairs but to his bed, he let her stay on Y/n's side of the bed. She rolled on her back and Ghost smiled down at her. He placed his hand on her stomach and closed his eyes.
--------
Friday 7:10AM
Luna was in Ghost's arms, he tossed her in the air and caught her, he wanted to hear her giggles.
"I'M HOME!!" Y/n announces into the house. Luna giggled and Ghost stood up quickly.
"Welcome home," he said, kissing her lips and kissing Luna's forehead.
"Thank you, handsome."
"Wow...your skin...it's beautiful." He chuckles.
"Thank you, now...I want my baby girl," she turns to Luna with a big smile and taking her from Ghost's grasp. Luna giggled when she was being held by her mama.
"How was it?" He asked.
"I should be asking you that...it was amazing."
"Same, I need to spend some more time with my lovely baby girl," he said, kissing Y/n's lips and his daughter temple.
"You understand how hard it is?"
"I never doubt you, love. I know how hard it is and I try to be there for the both of you but-"
"Work...I know..." She smiles and kisses his lips.
"I'm sorry, love."
"For what?"
"For not always helping you."
"It's okay, Ghost, I know and understand..."
"Anyways, come on let me tell you everything that happened on the trip."
"Okay," he smiles
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chaostroberry1 · 3 months
Note
Can I get a hcs of Loki, Beelzebub and Hermes knowing that only one human (us) is their worshipper in the modern days? These Gods are not worshipped as much as back then so what would be their reaction to that? (Platonic/romantic is up to you! I'm fine with any of them)
Tyy <3
Ofc!!! I'll do my best. 😌
⚠️Just a disclaimer, I did some research on how the gods were worshipped by their different believers, so please forgive me if I get anything wrong‼️⚠️
Ror characters reacting to only one worshipper
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Loki
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- Loki was known for being a trickster, and it's not uncommon to dislike him. he plays tricks, pranks, and is just over all annoying.
- He sure is aware of people's distaste for him and his little games, but it never did bother the man one little bit. Why should he care anyway? He was only in it for the fun, nothing else.
- that was how his mindset worked until he found a certain little mortal wandering out and about, making an offering to him. Now that? That REALLY sparked his interest.
- you wouldn't imagine that evil little grin of mischief on his face. I mean, he was never worshipped before, this was an entirely new feeling to him!
- Even knowing the horrible deeds he's done, or what type of person he is...you didn't care. You did your thing anyway, showing your respect to him. That little tint of hope on your face, completely determined to worship him...
- That was one hell of a turn on.
- He was so so so so soooo excited. overjoyed and overwhelmed with emotions, is this what respected gods get to experience? And HE, out of everyone, was missing out on the fun???
- After that day, the gods were always left with someone lacking in a meeting. Or perhaps, the room just wasn't as full of sly comments or remarks. It was eerily peaceful to say the least. But it's better than putting up with some green headed jerk, right?
- Loki on the other hand, would always be seen watching over you with lovestruck eyes. Sometimes going into the mortal realm and turning into little insects, spying on you.
- Mans was lovestruck as hell.
- Like forget playing pranks on people, he had a new form of entertainment. Probably giving little clues in your surroundings whenever you ask for signs that he was listening.
- he'd learn your name, and get incredibly upset whenever your attention was not on him. You were his worshipper, so you had too act like it, no arguments needed.
- I just imagine one time the gods are in a meeting, he'd randomly brag about his dear loyal worshipper, making comments like "oh, my dear beloved (y/n) also has a thing like that in the mortal world~" when Thor was literally in the middle of talking about a brutal slaughter that occured somewhere around the place. 💀
- it even weirds out the deities thinking about how much he knew about you.
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Beelzebub
- now, beel here is different. He's been known to be evil itself, and all the works written about him is just all the brutal and horrible things he's done.
- He was also aware that many disliked him, but what could he do? He was rumoured to be Satan himself. it wasn't his fault, but all the fingers were pointing at him.
- then he found you, a very determined worshipper with sworn loyalty to him. You believed that he was innocent, and it wasn't his fault. Catching him off guard for once.
- that of course, made him feel a little nice inside. But he had to stop himself. You were just a pitiful mortal with hope, and hope doesn't last very long.
- it made him nervous. What if he repeated the same mistake he had committed before? What of he kills another innocent life who wanted nothing but to worship him?
- he'd try to send signals to you, a sign that you should stop. Trying to get you off his back. But you never did, you didn't care.
- it made him warm, and nice. For the first time in ages, he experienced a nice feeling. And now that he's more controlled with his emotions, he could atleast try. Maybe give it a little chance.
- he found out what your name was, and it brought him peace whenever that same name took up some space in his thoughts.
- Maybe here and there, he'll help you out a bit, Getting rid of those who've done wrong to you. Maybe even showing vulnerability in some occasions.
- and on very very rare occasions, he'd get a little jealous. A little jealous when you show care towards another. He actually did enjoy your love towards him, and had gotten used to it.
- even if he was cold and unapproachable, He had a little soft spot for you in his heart.
- He wanted to cherish this feeling, just for a little while.
Hermes
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- mf literally goes around spying on people's private affairs. You know when Poseidon 'killed' adamas? Bro was literally eavesdropping, but got caught anyway. Not even afraid of admitting that he was a rotten scoundrel/cause for a few problems.
- that's why the gods keep an eye out for him, knowing that if word ever got out about anything, it may as well end in chaos.
- he's pretty chill, unless you try him. Finding out that he had a worshipper did quite amuse him in a way. Not to the point where he'd be like Loki..*cough*
- maybe a word would slip out of his mouth, a little "oh my.." possibly.
- I have a little headcanon that since he's pretty handsome, he has a few share of admirers. Maybe nymphs and so on. That's why a worshipper wouldn't really come off as too much of a surprise. I could be wrong.
- But all that aside, seeing your desication and loyalty to him was a nice feeling. especially since nowadays, there weren't many who bothered worshipping deities they couldn't even see. Some growing detached from their own beliefs, and giving up.
- The world is a big place, yet you were the one to catch his eye the most. And maybe he might've grown a little fond of you.
- in his spare time, he'd be composing beautiful melodies dedicated to you. Ehem, as a way of showing his appreciation of course. Don't have your mind wandering off any further than that.
- There were probably also deities out there who hated his guts, not that it mattered to him. He has no more interest in that. he was more busy and happy to give his attention towards you and your little beliefs.
- Maybe at night, you might hear the faint sound of a violin, a beautiful melody that puts you to sleep. Waking up to believe that it was just a dream..or so you thought.
- that's right, just close your eyes and let him take care of you.
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