#ok this one feels borderline stupid but whatever it's cute | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honey-makki · 4 years

Text

grandma’s blessing

best friend!hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death (family member), oral (fem receiving), fire, probably unsanitary cooking conditions if i’m being honest (it’s soft i swear)

summary: the holidays are your favorite time of year. your best friend hanamaki tries to keep holiday cheer alive despite the loss of a family member.

word count 2.4k

masterlist

Holiday’s are tricky. Decisions on whether the trauma of going home will be a heavier burden to bear than the guilt and loneliness of your city apartment. GOing home was never a pleasant experience. Trips filled with parents nitpicking your seemingly successful life and emotionally battering you about anything and everything they could. The only reprieve would be hugging your grandmother and being able to see her face-to-face during dinner. She understood why you didn’t come home every opportunity and didn’t blame you a bit.

On years when it would be too much to travel, you knew that she would still give you a call. Spending all day on the phone with you while you bounced around the kitchen making much smaller portions of what they would be eating at home. Even the small amounts of silence on the call were comfortable. You could feel her next to you kneading the dough for a pie while you mixed together the fruit base. It felt like home.

The silence that has been living in your apartment the past few months after her passing was suffocating. Weekends spent with friends at their apartment just to get out of somewhere that just seems to reek of death and despair.

You had spent more nights at Makki’s place in the past month than at your own. He was your closest friend, a true confidant, someone skilled at lifting your mood, and the person you’ve been undeniably in love with for years. You accepted the fate of growing old with a horde of cats as long as you can have his silly pink hair shining in the sun when you hung out with friends. It’s ok that you are going to be alone forever as long as you still had a standing laser tag date once a month. The only thing stronger than your feelings of love towards the strawberry blond was fear of losing him.

He has been a pillar of strength during the past few months. Holding your crying body until you fall asleep on his tear-stained and snot covered chest. Setting alarms in your phone to make sure you are eating or going to work instead of sitting in a dissociative state. Ever since you shared a bed with him, he’s been a little more comfortable with physical contact. Walking closer together arms touching when going out or throwing an arm over your shoulder when lounging around the house. You can’t count the number of times you’ve both woken up in various stages of cuddling.

He was the one to bring up spending the holidays together. He had just gone home for a wedding and couldn’t afford another ticket and he knew that you were in a weird spot. “We can stay here and make dinner and bake cookies and watch shitty r-romcoms? Someone has to appreciate Hallmark movies, why not us?” You can hear his voice crack and start to speed up as a blush rises across his face. You see it but don’t really process it, more relieved that for the first time in months, the thought of holidays didn’t make you run to the bathroom and throw up. You smiled and nodded, setting plans for him to come over later in the week.

Makki always liked when you cooked, throwing a western spin on dishes he considered normal. But today, he was flabbergasted, you didn’t let him just sit on the barstool curating music while you did all the work, no, there was too much food to be made for him to laze around. You laid out the recipe for your grandmothers’ mac n’ cheese, explaining what everything meant while you got started on an asian fusion stuffing you figured out a few years back.

You stole glances at him in the middle of stirring, combining and folding everything together. His tongue sticks out between his lips while he deliberately measures out the exact amount of cheese required. In all the time you’ve seen him, you’ve never seen him totally lose his laid back air until now, and you can’t control your laugh. Is he really more serious about measuring out sharp cheddar cheese than a game that would take them to nationals? Or that physics final he actually studied for? Your heart skips a beat when you see his soft, satisfied smile to the dish he just created. All you can picture when he looks over to you is how cute of a child he must have been. Cheeks round encasing his bright smile as his head tilts ever so slightly to the left.

After he slides the last dish into the oven, you both opt for taking the time to clean the kitchen, knowing that you won’t want to do it after dinner. The dishes are washed and dried and while Makki puts away the ones that go on a higher shelf, you return flour and other ingredients to the pantry but before you put them down you call out to him, voice lighter than normal, the one you use when asking a favor.

“Taka, how upset would you be if I said I wanted to cook a little bit more?”

“You get dishes this time around then, but what are we makin’?”

You turn out of the pantry with a bounce in your step before slapping down the flour and newly acquired, chocolate chips and sprinkles. “Cookies! We always made cookies with my grandma and it wouldn’t be the same without them.” Your eyes sparkle at the thought of the sweet treats and equally sweet memories of your childhood. Makki thinks you are breathtaking.

“Let me get the bowls back down and we can probably make mediocre cookies if you have anything you do with it.” He smiles at just how cute the squawk you made from his teasing is, just happy that he gets to be here with you. He doesn’t really hear how you defend your baking skills and complain that just because you forgot flour one time doesn’t mean you are inept at baking.

He never thought he would be the type to settle down and be domestic, it just didn’t seem like something he cared a lot about, but now he he can’t rid his mind of the thought of waking up ten minutes before your alarm just to make you a cup of coffee or throwing your favorite blanket in the drier on days it’s raining so when you get home, you can melt into the soft plush and warm up instantly.The clattering of spices brings him back to the moment, turning to see you picking up the cinnamon and vanilla extract.

“You good, love?” There’s something about how you look when you flustered because of him, that scratches an itch he didn’t know was there. The first time a pet name like this had slipped through his lips he was certain that whatever line the two of you were toeing had been crossed, demolished. Instead you just tucked your hair away and averted your gaze back to whatever shitty movie the two of you were “watching” that night. Now it’s normal, well its not normal, its very much not normal for him to refer to you as love or babe and it's not normal for you to exclusivley call him by his first name. It's decidedly abnormal considering your relationship or lack thereof. But if you aren’t going to question it neither is he.

He helps you up and gather the remaining ingredients for the “famous snickerdoodle cookies” that you swear had won awards. The mixing of the dough is interrupted when he has to grab your wrist to stop you from adding salt instead of sugar. You refuse to look at him because you know he is sporting a huge smirk and raised eyebrows, knowing that he’s right about you not being the best baker. You are reprieved by the oven going off, signaling to remove the earlier and change the temperature.

“Damn, babe, these cookies look so good, especially this one.” You return to Makki who already started to lay out the dough on the baking tray. You see perfectly round blobs squished slightly by a fork for a pattern and then right in front of him you see the cookie he was talking about. You didn't expect to see your 27 year old boyfriend-who-isn’t-your-boyfriend to be holding a cockshaoped cookie. But really, you should have seen it coming from the guy who laughs when either of you fart.

He can hear the clock ticking as you just stare, annoyed. He was concerned for a second, that maybe he shouldn’t have made a lewd joke when making cookies. This is something he used to do with her grandmother, you stupid idiot.. But when he can see the apple of your cheek peeking out from behind your hand, he recognizes that face. The one that positively exudes warmth and happiness with her laughter. The butterflies always buzzing in his stomach go wild when this face comes out. He would do anything to see it for the rest of time.

You don’t know where the courage comes from but you cup his cheek for a kiss, he mirrors your action. It just felt normal, and you honestly didn’t realize that it wasn’t normal until you both pulled back. Your eyes are locked on his, both of you sporting a soft smile until his keeps growing, evolving into a laugh that is borderline offensive in how loud it is.

You don’t know why and you get a little nervous that maybe he doesn’t feel the same way, when you go to hide your face, you feel the heat rising but also a soft powdery coating? And that’s when you realize his hands are still coated in flour from shaping the cookies. Your eyes are rolling while you chuckle but Makki on the other hand is losing his mind, almost in tears from laughing while putting the cookies in the oven. “It’s not that funny, Takahiro! Get me a napkin please.”

“Nah, you look really sweet. Good enough to eat.” You weren’t surprised when he returned to kissing you, nor when he lifted you up by your thighs and plopped you on the counter. The kisses are sweet, lazy and perfect for a second kiss, and a third and a fourth. This is normal. His lips belong on yours. Your hands should be tangled up in his hair while his run over your waist and legs. This is right. There's no rush to deepen the kiss, both of you happy to just indulge in the warmth of the other, but it is inevitable. A soft nip at your bottom lip or an accidental tug of his hair, neither of you know what happened first but you both are staring at each other, panting lightly with a much darker gaze than the original flour induced makeout session.

“You are just as sweet as I thought. Gotta have a taste.” His voice is raspier than you’ve ever heard and you just let him move your body as he pleases. Pull your hips to the edge of the counter. Spread your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Lift your hips when he pulls your shorts and underwear down. Gotta act as sweet as he says I am. He has barely touched you but when he falls to his knees and just stares at your dripping slit that he's imagined for years, your eyes, you are already imagining how good he's going to feel.

You shouldn’t even try to think, his tongue exceeded any expectation or desire you had. Expertly flicking against your throbbing clit as he works two fingers in you. You feel the groan he lets out when he dips his tongue into your hole before you hear it. The vibrations reverberate up your spine and through your body, an all-consuming heat starting in your stomach, threatening to let loose, to run rampant on your body. His fingers, joined by another, return to your clenching hole and search for the spongy spot hidden deep inside. All you can hear is the blood rushing through your head, drowning out every other noise.

“C’mon love, cum on my fingers, on my tongue, I’ve wanted, dreamed about this for years, give it to me.” His slow words juxtaposed the fervent pace of his fingers and it was enough to send you over the edge.

You feel so hot you fear you might pass out, the groan Makki lets out beneath you is the only thing keeping you grounded. You were first concerned that you had hurt him in someway, but when you see his eyes roll back into his head and his tongue trying to lap up every single bit of cum you squirted on his face and thighs, you know it wasn’t due to excruciating pain, rather it's just an obscene reaction to you.

When you push him back, squirming with overstimulation, you hear him scramble and “Shit! Fuck! Fire extinguisher?? WHERE IS YOUR FIRE EXTINGUISHER???” You are still out of it until he starts actually screaming, words still evade you but he follows your line of sight to the red tube hiding in the corner next to the fridge. The smell of smoke is overwhelming all of a sudden. You were in a dreamlike post orgasmic state and suddenly your coughing, eyes hazy.

the cookies, SHIT THE COOKIES!! Smoke is billowing out of the oven and your fire alarm is blaring, but soon the room is filled with a white foam originating from Makki. You never realized that the foam would continue to expand until half of your kitchen was covered in it and you saw a sheepish looking Makki on the other side.

“Fires out”. Again, he starts to laugh at you, and this time you join him. Today has turned out entirely different than you expected. It wasn’t a sad day, it was filled with laughter, romance, an ill timed fire and Makki. All in all, a successful holiday, despite the fact everything you cooked was coated in foam. He’d seen you staring at the food and already took his phone out to order food, “Indian or ramen?”

Yeah, you think you’re grandma would be happy seeing you like this. Happy Holidays.

a/n: i don’t really know what this is but the image of makki being a disaster in the kitchen came to me one day and here we are. make sure you read the other fics in the collab

matsukawa’s funeral home winter collab

a/n 2.0: also a/o to @iwaasfairy for making that makki image that i used in my header. i love her more than i love him which say a lot

#hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki drabble #hanamaki x y/n #hanamaki smut #haikyuu smut #makki smut #makki x reader #makki x you #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki.coffee #kristen.writes #oral.espresso

217 notes · View notes

whumpingcrow · 3 years

Text

Ink Poisoning - Chapter 9

"Giovanni, Redacted."

Short Authors note: Please head the CW and read this chapter with discretion! It has very heavy themes and wording that discuss drug use/mental health in a very raw and uncomfortable way. I really advise this to be read by mature (18+) audience because of these themes. Thank you :) -Crow

CW: bbu and everything that goes with that, very poor mental health/slight suicidal language and themes, noncon drugging/drugs and alcohol (EXPLICIT), overdose mention, noncon/dubcon (EXPLICIT), multiple whumpers, lady whumper, dehumanizing language/themes, PTSD/nightmares, conditioned/trained whumpee, intimate whumper, death mention (let me know if i missed anything!)

Giovanni gets sick again. It's not like any ailment or injury he's ever experienced, it isn't like the bone chilling sickness he got from being outside for too long, it isn't like the exhausting nausea he used to get after long days of punishment and failure and violence. It's something altogether different, and in many ways so much worse. Nothing feels good anymore. Actually, he doesn't really feel anything, most of the time.

Besides fear. Fear is more of his way of existing than a feeling to him, now, sometimes it seems like the closest thing to home he has.

And so, the fear and the drugs and the confusing sickness all overshadow the things he really should be feeling. He doesn't even realize it when he begins to hate Rory, so he doesn't admit to himself or anyone else. He only really gets as far as telling himself he resents her, although he doesn't know how he remembers that word. But it wasn't resentment, he hated her. Almost as much as he hated his old master. Sometimes even more. It started out as a small burning anger toward her after she traded his body for drugs at Oscar's. Even then, he could convince himself not to be upset, that he was trained for that, that it was his purpose and he just had to get used to it. He could forgive Rory, even if she never apologized or even acknowledged what happened after, because at that point he really did still like her. Or was loyal to her. Or whatever.

But it just kept getting worse after that day. Rory had promised that after Gio did that awful thing for her, they would have fun. Gio soon found out that either Rory had a very different idea of fun than he did, or she had lied to him. She was able to keep them both high all the time, the backpack that Oscar had given her was filled to the brim. Every time Gio saw Rory digging through the bag to offer up his next dose, he couldn't help but think about the fact that he was seeing a visual of what he was worth: one huge sack of numbness in the form of pills. And to make it all worse, he was only half of the payment. Fitting enough. Still, he got tired of all of the bad trips and highs and lows, and he started to get mad at her again. Did it not feel horrible for Rory, too? She looked horrible, they both did, pale and borderline emaciated.

Gio was so angry with her that she was doing that to him, that she was making him sick and giving him pills so he'd never sleep (he was starting to actually miss sleeping and having bad dreams, because at least those he could escape, he couldn't wake up and leave this nightmare), and giving him pills so he'd be willing to do whatever she wanted and be subdued enough not to fight her or Oscar, or any other freak that she was letting have a turn with him that time, and giving him pills so that when she ran out he felt like he was dying, honest to God seconds away from vomiting out his own empty stomach and biting the dust immediately after. He had to forgive her, still, with no apology from her, every few hours for that.

Then Gio got sick. He didn't tell Rory, he was positive that he was too stupid to communicate the level of pain he was in anyway, and also wasn't sure if she cared. He was worried that one day he would just pass out from exhaustion or over exertion and he wouldn't ever wake up. Or that he would take a few too many pills at one time and his body would just give. That was sort of the easiest thing for him to forgive, as sad as it made him. Maybe it was because by then he was numb enough to not care about his health at all, or maybe he was just too tired to really try to fight anymore. He resolved that he had nothing to look forward to anymore, so why try? He not only forgave Rory for that, he surrendered that part of him to her completely. It was in her hands now, and sometimes it was very obvious that she knew that. And sometimes Gio thought he could see her enjoying it.

And through all of that, through all of the mistreatment and pain, Giovanni still liked her. None of that was what made him hate her. Because really, besides slowly poisoning him and trading him around for all the drugs she couldn't afford, she was nice to him. Or maybe he was just rewired to like anyone in charge of him.

The night he did start hating her, they were just getting back to their shitty motel that she had also managed to keep by letting the owner fool around with Giovanni from Oscar's place. Gio was tired like always, he was buzzing from the small taste of coke Oscar gave him to wake him up a little when he was done with him, he was embarrassed because that time Rory had been in the room with them, and mostly he just wanted to sleep. He was such an idiot for thinking that Rory would allow him to sleep. Probably more of an idiot for thinking he deserved rest. Rory was being nice to him in the car, calling him cute, she was such a fucking liar, telling him he was "a precious puppy", he felt nothing short of a repulsive monster, and petting through his hair, he never wanted anyone to touch him again.

Rory was nice to him when they went inside, too. Her hands were all over him, in all the same places that Oscar's had been, but with their own trademark tenderness along with their trademark perversion. Gio got lost in her movements, he let himself enjoy the gentle, almost teasing, touches. Then he let her push him back onto the bed, he let her crawl on top of him, he let her take his clothes off for a second time that day, he wanted to cry when she kissed him and pushed a pill onto his tongue with her own.

He didn't hate her then, he always enjoyed being used by her more than any of the others, and he felt nearly happy for the first time since he left with her. He was just high and all fucked out from Rory and Oscar. After, she rested her head against his bare chest, holding him close to her.

"You're wonderful, Gio," she told him, "You're the perfect person to do this with."

"To do what with, miss?" He knows he needs to stop asking questions, she doesn't owe him any explanation. But she's murdering him, the least she could do is explain herself.

She sat up to look at him, smiling at him like she always did. She looked beautiful. She looked just as sick as Gio felt. "Do you know about Romeo and Juliet?"

He did, although he didn't know why. "Yeah."

"That's like us, don't you think?" She crawled back on top of him, kissing him all over as she spoke. "Forbidden love, destined to never be fully together, dying in each others arms."

He was silenced for a moment, unsure which part of that he should address first. Did Rory love him? Of course not, he was unlovable, she was just high. They both were. And more than that, did she just confirm the meaning behind all of this: to die? Gio had spent the last few weeks stuck with her trying to convince himself that he was ok with that, that he would let Rory do what she wanted, and if she wanted him dead then he wouldn't protest against her. But hearing her admit it scared him. Maybe it was because he was foolish enough to hold onto a little hope that she wouldn't do something so horrible. She knew what she was doing, this entire time she knew that she was killing them both, and it was romantic to her. He was disgusted. He was horrified. He hated her.

"Rory," he whimpered, trying with his weakened arms to push her off of him. She was persistent, and had it been any other situation, Gio would've given up. He would've been quiet and just lay still and let Rory have her way with him yet again. But he was so scared, he was shaking, and he pushed at her again, harder. He didn't want to die. "Rory I don't want to die!'

She climbed off of him, allowing him to sit up and hide his face in his hands so she wouldn't see him crying. She was frowning at him, like she couldn't comprehend what he was saying. "You...You don't?"

"No! No, I don't want to die!" Gio was surprised in himself for shouting at her, for snapping his head up and looking right at her and yelling. She jumped back like she was afraid of him. She was such an idiot, didn't she know that she was the threat in this situation?

"Gio..." She shook her head to herself, then he could see her looking around the room, probably to locate the drug bag they had just picked up. "I just thought that you...I thought maybe you'd want some sort of escape. I know I would, if I were you."

He cried harder at that, but the tears felt different than usual. They weren't tears of fear or sadness, but tears of boiling anger. Did everyone think that of him? That he was so miserable and pathetic he must want a way out, he was such a hopeless situation he might as well just die? He didn't want to die, he didn't want to have some "forbidden love" with Rory, he didn't want the drugs, he didn't want any of this. "I want to go home. I want to go back with Nicko."

"What? No, Gio! No, come on, we're having a good time. We don't have t-to die, I was just kidding!" She laughed nervously to try and sell her point. He could sense her desperation, only this time he didn't want to help her. "You don't really wanna go back there, Gio-"

"I don't want this, Rory!" He pushed himself off of the bed and started to pull his clothes back on. "I don't fucking love you-"

"Gio!"

"And I don't want to kill myself for you! I want to go home, Rory! Take me home!"

The room fell silent after that. Gio wasn't afraid of punishment, he couldn't feel anything past his anger and hatred for Rory. He wiped his tears away, he knew they made him look weak, and he stared Rory down for a few more seconds. Just outside, he could hear two men shouting at each other. He wondered if anyone could hear him yelling at Rory. He wondered if they could tell if it was a box boy speaking out of turn and if they would take matters into their own hands to correct him.

"Fine." Rory spoke through her teeth, yanking her own shirt back on as she did. Gio couldn't believe that it worked so easily. "I'll take you back to Nicko. You ungrateful fuck."

He was ungrateful, he knew that. He didn't care.

Rory played the music louder than she ever had, signifying that she had nothing to say to Gio and didn't want to hear a word out of him. He liked it better that way, anyway, he didn't want to talk to her. She didn't take him all the way back up to Nicko's house, instead stopping down the street so he would have to walk past all of the neighbors houses in the snow to get there. He was more than happy to face the cold again rather than stay around Rory another agonizing second.

When he made it to the front door, something made him freeze. He had convinced himself that Nicko would be angry with him for leaving, and the idea of adding anymore pain to his already mangled body made him feel sick with anxiety. Or what if Nicko replaced him while he was gone? What if the new boxie was better than him? What if Nicko was glad that Gio left and would just send him back to the facility once he came back?

Then he decided that all of that was worth the risk of being inside a warm house, where his favorite person was, where Salem was, where he had a soft pink sweater hidden underneath his beanbag. So, with his last bit of energy, he reached out and knocked against the heavy wooden door.

9 notes · View notes

subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Eight

Ao3, Masterpost, C.1 C.2 C.3 C.4 C.5 C.6 C.7

Relationships: queer-platonic intruality, mentioned platonic relationships.

Second chapter of the night, babe! I’m really going for it with finishing this story!! mostly no italics as is my usual, because tumblr Sucks <3

Warnings: cursing, brief true-crime talk, sexual innuendo, depressive episodes, crying, LOTS of h/c, mentions of past neglect (ok neglect is a really strong word it isn’t that bad, but, idk what to call it), touch-starvation, honestly though this is a ridiculously fluffy chapter guys.

Word count: 5,618

In three weeks, Patton and Remus had gone from borderline insomnia to a sleep schedule that could’ve impressed even Logan.

And in three weeks, neither had spent a single night alone.

The talk they’d had after their first sleepover ended up leaving more of an impact than either had realized. Maybe it should’ve been expected: they were both accustomed to saying exactly what they meant, exactly how they meant it, and any sort of vow to ‘never let go’ couldn’t be used lightly for two creatures like that.

So, independently, they both decided to be as literal as they could about it. God, were they clingy.

But it worked better than anything. There was less aching, more talking, and if they were feeling better, the whole Mindpalace improved. Something something, the delicate ecosystem of the human mind, blah blah.

And then it worked too well.

Neither of them really knew what had happened, or how to feel about it (it might have been sad or strange that neither had ever had anything to compare it to, but if asked, they’d both say that’s what made it so special. They’d be right to say so, of course). It was what they had, together.

It wasn’t romantic- they’d seen romantic, knew it as well as they could, didn’t care for it. But in the end who cared about semantics? It didn’t matter, the reasons why Patton stared after his friend for a little too long, or what was making it so hard for Remus not to kiss his pal smack on the lips every time he smiled. Another thing that didn’t matter was the why in response to how they still hadn’t talked about it, but… Patton and Remus had resolved that as a problem for another time.

What mattered was that it just was.

(And another thing that mattered, a little bit, was the how it had happened, and both of them understood that perfectly well.)

Remus lounged on the floor at the foot of his bed, Patton behind and above him. Patton’s fingers were working steadily through his mess of hair, while the pair half-watched TV. They didn’t agree on most shows, and neither of them were especially crazy about arguing, which meant it was twenty minutes of roundabout conversation until they stumbled across something they could mutually zone out to. Whatever. The system worked.

Remus typically preoccupied himself with drawing, painting, or carving some material into something or other (said something-or-other was almost always a knife or a dildo. Occasionally, it was both).

Patton seemed to favor being distracted by Remus’ hair, though it wasn’t clear why. Remus hadn’t asked; it felt nice, and he was surprised that anyone would actually want to thread their fingers through those oily strings, so why question a good thing?

Actually, a better question was why not. The thought had stuck in his mind, and he had nothing better to do- art block and all- so. Remus tossed his sketchbook to the side and twisted up to look at Patton.

“Why do you do that?”

Patton glanced down at him. “Do what?”

Remus reached up, prying Patton’s hands out of his hair and holding them up like evidence. Patton blinked at them, and okay, cute- but he looked genuinely surprised by the question.

“Oh, playing with your hair? I mean, there’s no real reason, I guess it’s just mindless. Something to fidget with, y’know? It’s always all tangled up, too, so it’s like a little puzzle- a puzzle I probably won’t solve all the way ever, but that’s most puzzles with me to be honest,” he smiled brightly, creasing all his laugh lines just right. “Also, um, it feels nice that I get to stay touching you, even if it’s just something small,” he shrugged, sort of sheepishly. “Is that weird?”

But Remus was beaming up at him, definitely looking all sorts of stupid for it, and definitely not caring. He dropped Patton’s hands, letting them find their way back into his coils and matts of hair.

“You’re asking the wrong guy, Sugar Cookie, but you can keep messing with my hair all you want. It probably is weird, in that case, because I like that you have your hands on me so much-” Jesus Christ it was so hard not to make a sex joke, Remus had to stifle several from breaking his train of thought. Ugh, the things he did for this man. “-And if I like something, it’s 100% freaky!”

Patton just laughed, his nose scrunching up while he ruffled Remus’ hair.

“That’s- that’s good to know,” an index finger coiled around silver strands, and Patton’s eyes sparkled in the most literal sense, “Hey, Remus?”

Remus let his head rest on the side’s thigh, humming attentively.

“When you say I can mess with it…”

He looked up with a delightful anticipation, grinning before Patton had even finished his sentence.

“Can I braid your hair?” The question accompanied by a faint tug at Remus’ scalp, and the feeling of several tangles coming undone, “I’m pretty good at it. Virgil used to let me do his- not so much anymore, but, um. Anyway, yours would be long enough- or maybe longer, if I got these knots out,” he smiled, kindly, “But I know you like having it knotty, so it’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

Remus thought it over, because yeah, he was very proud of his rat’s nest. Besides, he was sure that even if it got straightened out, it’d still be just as greasy as ever- ohh, but that could be a look all on its own, couldn’t it? Maybe he could even weave some garbage into the plait!

“Sure!” Remus assented, “The rest of me’s naughty enough to make up for the hairdo, so have at ‘er.”

Patton snorted at the pun, obviously excited to get started. When he ushered Remus to turn around, his hands easily undoing clumps of hair with surprising focus, humming to himself all the while, Remus was absolutely certain he’d made the right choice.

It was done in an hour- Patton was slow and careful about every movement. Remus didn’t really mind, though he’d try to assure Patton that it was fine to do it in a hurry, that he wasn’t so sensitive. (Patton didn’t, obviously, ignoring Remus’ comments about how it didn’t even matter because they weren’t real, and pain was a construct. Patton was stubbornly gentle, to the point that Remus couldn’t be annoyed by it. He might even say it was sweet, if he was feeling particularly sappy.)

It had also taken such time because of the decorations Patton had woven into his hair, which he insisted would be surprises. So Remus was bouncing with excitement all the way to the mirror- cuz even though he was sure it wouldn’t be anything like the live bugs, weeds, and dead flowers that he’d had in mind to thread in there himself, he knew it’d at least be pretty. Pretty wasn’t really his thing, sure, but Patton’s brand of pretty? It had grown on him.

The mirror in Remus’ room was chipped, slick with grime, and filled with silhouettes that vanished as soon as you turned around, but it worked just fine. Remus hauled himself over to it, peered in, and okay, he definitely didn’t mind a little bit of pretty.

“You weren’t fucking around when you said you were good at this, Morey!”

In their reflections, Remus saw Patton smile, going a bit pink around the ears. He glanced back to himself, eyes trailing appreciatively down the shoulder-length braid of dark, greasy hair. His grey streak wasn’t twisted in with the rest of the locks, instead it had been left out in front, springy and curly and giving the whole look a messier vibe. The braid itself seemed inky-slick, shot through with glittering hair clips and pins. At first, they looked like plain plastic jewels, but with closer inspection the shapes of tiny beetles, bugs, and moths were unmistakable. They were gorgeous, and probably a better call than putting actual live bugs in his hair; he was less likely to end up eating the sparkly clips, at any rate.

But if all that wasn’t enough, then there were the ribbons. Whip-thin and several in number, they sparkled with enough course glitter to impress a Las Vegas body paint artist. Some were a pukey neon green, and the rest a light, bright-

“Blue?”

Patton met Remus’ eyes, through the mirror again, and the pink slowly traveled from his ears down to his face. He shrugged, grazing the blue-and-green bow where the braid was tied off with the tips of his fingers.

“I guess I got a little carried away,” he smiled lightly, “I thought it looked nice, with the green.”

Remus looked away from the glass, “You’re not wrong about that,” he muttered.

Patton shrugged, not quite making his eyes.

“You can take those ones out, if you want to.”

That- the way Patton went flustered and shy and he’d put his colors on Remus- it gave the Duke a very strong urge to do something. The urge pulled at his chest, feeling like cracked ribs in the best way, and it really wasn’t fucking around when it wrapped around his heart and squeezed so tight it felt like it was forcing all the blood right out of him.

Remus was used to impulses, and the powerful, mind-halting swells of emotion, but this was new and fun and it had jumped out of nowhere even for him. He was staring at Patton, and he had the urge to do something. He would’ve done it, too, if only he knew what the fuck it was that he wanted.

It had to do with Patton. He should start there, probably.

“I’m gonna keep them in, duh,” Remus replied, finally, and his voice was way louder than it needed to be, “Wouldn’t wanna fuck up the look.”

Patton glanced at him, smiling self-consciously, and his hand lowered from Remus’ hair to rest on his shoulder. For a moment Remus felt blind, vision white-out and trouble breathing, from whatever the fuck he was feeling, and he just didn’t know what to do.

Then Patton laughed, his ocean eyes squinted, and the burning impulse plummeted to an ache. A giddy, unfamiliar kind of ache. A manageable ache.

Remus resolved to forget it. He had lots of instincts, and urges, and God knew that not even half of them made sense. It had left, that was what mattered, and he could enjoy the rest of his day with his friend.

He’d never been the type to worry, anyway.

There were days that Patton just… couldn’t make it out of bed. He tried, he really did, but he could only go for so long before it all started crumbling. He’d wake up, and something would just feel wrong, and he’d know that it was a doomed day, but he still made the stubborn effort to save it. Because each time he thought, maybe he’d beat it, maybe he’d make the best of it- and sometimes he did, but most of the time he made it as far as breakfast, and then he was right back in his room by noon to let the depressive episode take over.

So yeah. It was one of Those Days.

Patton laid in bed, propped up on pillows and stuffed animals with his unfocused eyes staring just above the television. Bad days had been getting rare, and naively, Patton had thought that meant it was over for good. When he woke up that morning, Remus barely stirring beside him, the empty feeling inside was almost ignorable.

He’d stayed above it for all of two-and-a-half hours before retreating to his room again, this time on his own.

Patton was always alone when he got in one of his moods, and he knew it was better that way. He was no fun at all, just a sad sack of blah, and he knew just how intolerable he ended up being. He couldn’t even tolerate himself.

So each time Patton would tell the other sides that he needed some space alone, and of course they respected that. Roman always hugged him before he left. Virgil checked on him every now and then. Logan, without fail, sent him extra plushies (and sweet snacks, however much he disapproved of unhealthy eating, because he knew how much sugar cheered Patton up). It didn’t fix the ache, but it helped, knowing that people were worried about him.

But, back to that particular day; the day that left Patton huddled up at the head of his bed with blank, glazed-over eyes; the first day of its kind since Remus had been staying with him.

It had gotten… harder, somehow. The fact that it had been gone for so long, and he’d been so optimistic, but now it was all back…

Patton buried his face in the soft fabric of a teddy bear, shaking and crying and feeling so, so, cold.

It went on for a few horrible, horrible minutes, and then there were noises that definitely weren’t sobs. Down the hall; the slamming of a door, followed by distant muttering, and then excited footsteps. Heavy, clunky footsteps. Sounds that brought back acute deja vu, and had Patton glancing up just in time to realize what was about to happen.

His door swung open, and Remus was grinning at him from the entrance. Patton struggled to put on a smile in time, scrubbing frantically at his eyes.

“Hey! It’s, like, two o’clock, are you ready?”

Patton blinked up at him, partially in confusion, partially to try and stop the flow of tears. “Ready…?”

Remus’ face fell a little, and he came forwards into the room.

“Yeah…” Remus shut the door behind him- with less force than usual- and sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed. He stared intently at Patton, frown deepening all the while, pupils flitting around as he seemed to take in every detail of his friend’s condition. Patton wanted to squirm. “We were gonna- are you okay?”

He stared dumbly at Remus for a second more, and then it clicked: they had plans today. He could barely remember what they were supposed to do- they’d been talking so quick, so excited, so happy- but Patton was pretty sure it had to do with a new creation of Remus’.

Which was… something he definitely, definitely didn’t have the energy for.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Patton sat up straight, trying desperately to stop trembling, “I completely forgot, I just- um- I don’t know if I can make it today.”

That sounded bad, didn’t it? Wouldn’t that be the icing on top of the cake, if he hurt Remus’ feelings just because he was wallowing for basically no reason. It probably wouldn’t even be that bad if he sucked it up and went along with it anyway- except Janus kept insisting how bad self-sacrifice was, but- what else was he supposed to do!?

“Oh, it’s okay,” Remus said, not sounding hurt at all. “I’d be more pissed if I thought you were just bailing, and I know you don’t do that, Pat. Plus, you’re obviously upset, so don’t worry about it.”

Patton glanced up to find him still staring, somehow more intense than before, and much closer than before. He looked- he looked worried. Not upset. Worried.

“Oh,” Patton looked away again, unable to stand the scrutiny, “Okay.”

A hand slipped into his, prying open his clenched fist, and he had to stifle a gasp at the touch. Temperature shock, that was the best word for it. Patton shivered.

“Can I help you?”

Patton’s eyes went wide at the sweet sincerity in Remus’ voice, the way he said it as plainly and openly as he’d say anything else. Even if it wasn’t a big deal, really, with Patton’s emotions in the state that they were, while he was in his room of all places, anything could send him breaking down again.

“I- I don’t, um-” he blinked furiously, had done that a lot since Remus found him; it was beginning to make him feel dizzy. “Nothing’s really wrong…”

Remus squeezed his hand.

“Well, what isn’t really wrong?”

“What?”

“You said nothing’s ‘really’ wrong, so, what’s wrong-but-not-really?”

Patton tipped his head to the side, for a moment more confused than he was aching. “How do you mean?”

But Remus just rolled his eyes- not unkindly- and shrugged.

“So, you don’t know why you’re all… sad,” the emphasis made Patton wince, “But I figure that being sad at all usually makes other things wrong, too, and I can help with those things! For example-” he pitched forwards suddenly, ruby-reds wide and searching. He sniffed at Patton (probably not for any kind of actual inspection, but it made him laugh, and judging from Remus’ proud little smirk that had been on purpose.) “You had anything to eat? Or, uh, water? Those are supposed to be important.”

Oh, right. That.

Patton leaned away, pulling his hand out of Remus’ grasp as he flushed abashedly. But he didn’t- well, he wasn’t going to lie to Remus.

“I guess I haven’t, no,” he tried to laugh it off- this didn’t have to be a thing, it didn’t have to be serious, if he kept laughing. If he got Remus to laugh.

But Remus was already standing, and that brought up another very effective solution; if Patton was being depressing, maybe he would just get sick of it and go.

“Okay, we’ll start there! Wait here, I’ll be back in- ten minutes? Sure, that’s how long it takes to make food,” Remus was muttering half to himself, but it sure as heck didn’t sound like leaving.

“Oh, you don’t have to get me anything!” Patton insisted, because if Remus wasn’t escaping yet, then he wasn’t going to mooch off of his generosity. “Thanks for the reminder, I’ll- I’ll make sure to grab something soon.”

Remus stopped by the door, tipped his head from one side to the other, pretending to think it over.

“Hm. Nah.”

Patton tried to stand, and found that he was somehow too weak for even that much.

“Remus, please, I- I can’t even eat the same stuff as you, anyway! Don’t go through all that trouble for little old me,” he was edging on frantic, and he didn’t know why he was fighting so hard against receiving needed help, but it probably had something to do with Catholicism.

Remus looked completely bewildered- a funny look, for him- and said:

“I mean, I wasn’t about to feed you hygiene products, or ceramic, or whatever. I know that I eat weird shit, Pat, that’s kind of the point- but I still know how to make a sandwich? And I know how to hold a cup under the sink so that water goes in it?”

His voice took on a gently mocking tone. Patton glanced away, sheepish, and couldn’t find a response to that beyond a short nod.

Which was all Remus needed as the go-ahead, darting out of the room and down the stairs before Patton could argue any further.

Patton stared after him, listened to him bustling around downstairs, and tried to feel comforted. He fell back against his pillows, breathing slow and concentrated. He was still shaking, with his previous exhaustion coming back full force. Some of the light-headedness, certainly, had to be due to the lack of eating, but he was unfortunately sure that it wasn’t even the half of it.

Patton was conflicted: He had to tell Remus that he was okay, as soon as he returned. Say thanks for the food, that it had helped, and they could spend time together tomorrow, Patton would promise. Get Remus away before it got bad, before the dam he’d built so carefully behind his eyes fell and the blue of them spilled out for hours.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie about his feelings- he knew it was bad for him, and he couldn’t keep doing it, not to someone’s face. Not somebody he cared about so much.

He wanted to let Remus stay, beg him to stay if he had to, just so he didn’t have to dig up all his long-buried emotions on his own. He wanted to pull him in and beg for help, even though he knew nothing had managed to help him before, and it was so futile.

When the door opened some ten minutes later, Patton didn’t sit up. He didn’t even look up, scared he’d cry if he so much as moved his eyes in his own skull.

“Hey.”

The sound of the door shutting, followed by those heavy footsteps. A soft thunk, presumably the plate of food being placed on his bedside table. Then the mattress dipped beside him, springs creaking.

“Hey,” Remus said again, “Look at me.”

Patton rolled his head tentatively to the side. Remus was sitting with him, looking at him, his expression twisted up and solemn in all the worst ways. Patton felt the dam begin to crumble.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “I know, I know that I’m no fun when I’m like this, and we were supposed to have fun today, and I just can’t do it. I can’t, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, but if you stay here when I’m-” he broke, clamping a hand around his mouth as a sob wracked his body.. “When I’m like this, I’m just gonna ruin your day more.”

That sad look, the one that had no place being in Remus’ expression, sharpened and widened until he looked almost angry. He crawled over to Patton, prying the side’s hand away from his face and cupping his cheek, gently, all the while that scowl was in place.

“Do you want me to go?”

Patton could barely speak, knowing that he’d just blubber and blubber, but Remus was holding him up by the shoulders and peering down at him so patiently, so carefully.

“I- I-”

“Do you want to be alone?”

He couldn’t- he couldn’t keep lying.

Patton sucked in a breath.

“No.”

Remus grinned at him proudly, pulling back until he was kneeling. He spread his arms out, an offering that Patton had become intimately familiar with. Patton pulled himself up, shaking, incredulous despite the familiarity of the situation.

“Then you don’t have to be.”

And Patton pitched forward, right into Remus’ arms, clutching and crying and trembling like a leaf.

Distantly, he knew that he was still babbling apologies. Insisting that the Duke could leave as soon as he wanted, that Patton felt this way so often and he knew he couldn’t possibly expect comfort every time, a million other sentences that ran over and into each other which only seemed to make Remus clutch him tighter.

“It’s okay,” Remus told him.

“It’s- It’s not, I don’t even have a- a reason to be so-” a hiccup, “- upset. It’s not like last time, when you found me- I don’t even have a bad excuse, I’m just- just-”

“Shut the fuck up,” somehow, even that sounded caring. “Somebody as Hello Kitty Wholesome as you’s got no business saying such bad shit about himself.”

Patton tried to apologize again.

“Easy, Sugar, I’ve got you.”

Patton shuddered.

“When it gets bad like this, just tell me, alright?” Remus’ hands traced up and down his spine, across his shoulder blades, down his sides, warm and full and adoring. The smile in his voice was audible, “I’m gonna take care of you.”

And when Patton heard that, it was like a broken bone being set. Not fully mended, but held together enough that it could begin to heal the right way, of its own hard work, and come back twice as strong still. Remus held him so strong and it felt like a cast.

Patton’s breakdowns were blurred memories at best, but he couldn’t have gotten that promise out of his head even if he wanted to.

It was an achingly uneventful afternoon. Everything in the Mindpalace felt just a little out of focus, a little gray, and nothing much was going to change that except the day ending. Plain and simple, Thomas was Out Of It- and so, of course, were his sides.

On the whole it wasn’t a big deal, but it did make it downright impossible to finish any substantial work beyond menial, autopilot tasks. And creativity? Particularly for Remus, who more-or-less needed his human at full attention in order to have any creative power, it was totally hopeless.

He wasn’t the kind of guy to work on half-power, to put it mildly.

So, what did Remus do, when he had even less of an outlet than usual? It shouldn’t surprise you that the answer is literally anything, if it got people to pay attention to him and make him feel real again (which he wasn’t, actually, but let’s leave the semantics to Logan). What that usually amounted to- these days, at least- was talking, and talking, and more talking, and eventually somebody would probably react to something he said. Ideally.

So on that particular gray-day, Remus sprawled himself out on the couch and waited for the first person who came by to trap in a very one-sided conversation.

Said first person was Patton, as it happened, which was just Remus’ luck. He didn’t bother hiding how excited he was about it; Patton had always been his favorite target- of course, it was for a very, very different reason nowadays.

Patton sat down with him as soon as he was waved over, propping a coloring book open on his knee and smiling warmly. His unoccupied hand went to wind through Remus’ hair, though, to make it abundantly obvious that despite his distraction he wasn’t ignoring the other.

Remus grinned at him, and started rambling immediately.

And he- well, he wouldn’t really call it talking to himself, because he didn’t have a fucking clue what he was saying. But he wasn’t talking to Patton either, because that kinda defeats the purpose of a one-sided conversation.

Which he didn’t mind. He wasn’t even listening to himself, he just needed to talk, and Patton wasn’t complaining. Remus was probably saying something unsavory, and still, there wasn’t any kind of flinching or interrupting. Patton even mhm’d and yeah’d every now and then, which was an entirely unnecessary reassurance. But Remus thought it was adorably considerate, and briefly entertained the idea of replacing that sweet little coloring book in Patton’s lap with his own self, to get some proper attention.

(He would have, too, if he wasn’t so sure that he’d blurt out something very lewd in his stream-of-consciousness kind of mood, with a position like that, and he wasn’t sure if Patton could handle it at the moment. Morality always got a little out of whack on gray-days, too, so- loathe as Remus was to say it- better safe than sorry).

Remus fell into the rhythm of it for, what, twenty minutes? He was bad with time, but- all he knew was he was thinking about Albert Fish, and talking about an entirely different serial killer out loud (Gacy? Bundy? It was definitely someone infamous), when the hand in his hair suddenly stilled. Patton wasn’t looking at him, either.

Remus glanced around, still talking, to find Logan standing in the kitchen doorway, staring expectantly at Patton.

“I need you to accompany me outside for a moment. There’s something important that we-”

Patton cut him off with a wave, “Hang on for a second, Teach.”

Logan obliged, looking bemused, and Patton turned his attention back to the still-tangenting Remus. Who was totally checked out, for the record.

“Hey,” Patton rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly, “Pause?”

And Remus, surprised, did as asked. He didn’t care about what was going on around him, but he liked that smile, and the eyes focused in on him, so he sat up properly and tried to be quiet. Especially considering those were the first actual words Patton had said to him since he’d sat down.

“I’m gonna go see what they need real quick,” Patton went on, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you can finish telling me about Dennis Rader then-” So that was who! “Kay?”

Remus stared mutely at him for an embarrassing number of seconds. He eventually managed a short nod, some vague utterances of yeah, sure, go ahead, before Patton was out the door with Logan, and he was left reeling on the couch.

Remus felt a little bit like worms had eaten holes in his brain like swiss cheese, leaving him airy-headed and dizzy. All his organs felt wormy, in fact- squirming and sick and excited about something that really shouldn’t have been a big deal- but! It was!!!

Cuz Patton had been listening? Remus wasn’t even listening! He was probably barely coherent, and he’d been at it for twenty fucking minutes, and- and-

God! He just wanted to grab that stupid adorable head of Patton’s and! He didn’t even know! Do Something, something disgusting in the nice way, something deplorably PG and lovey-dovey and- Ugh!

Remus buried his face in his hands and groaned. He felt like a goddamn schoolgirl- and not the hentai kind, for a change, but the hopelessly infatuated, cutesy type. Feelings that were gushy, giddy, affectionately bloody.

It was the straw that broke the camel's spine. Urges and instincts and wants that Remus hadn’t been able to name coalesced into a neon sign in his mind, flaring the answer like it’d been obvious the whole time:

Was it a crush? Remus didn’t know a better word for it, even if it wasn’t- he just knew that he was pining, and for somebody he was happy to call his friend either way. And, huh. Weird. He didn’t know he could do that.

“I’m back, I’m back!” Patton came scrambling back into the room, jolting Remus out of his thoughts, “Sorry about that, it was- well, it’s not a big deal, something happened with The Memories and- it’s fine now- anyway, what were you saying?”

He was chattering fast, even by Remus’ Standards, an apologetic smile on his face as he sat down and settled all his attention on the Duke.

Remus said: “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” and wondered if he’d always been that shrill? Or was he being too quiet? What did his voice sound like again?? “I, uh, I don’t remember what I was talking about.”

Patton frowned at him, and looked about ready to apologize again, and he couldn’t very well have that. So, he babbled:

“Right, it was Rader? Um. Yeah,” but that was so far out of his mind by that point, and how did people ever talk while saying things and thinking other things! “Not much to say, ya know. Killed some people, got arrested, the usual.”

“Since when don’t you give me the graphic details?” Patton complained, “That’s your favorite part!”

“I think I’ll spare you the nightmares this time, Morey! It’s, uhm, it’s your turn to talk.”

“Oh, hush,” and Patton laughed, shooting Remus an encouraging, coaxing smile that made him just want to debone himself. “Those serial killer stories you like so much aren’t the nightmare fuel they used to be. You know why?”

Remus felt like the inside of his skin was full of spikes. Not in a bad way.

“...Why?”

“Because,” Patton said, like he was all too eager to explain himself, “I can’t really be scared of them when the scariest thing is what’s in bed with me.”

Remus flushed. Like, actually- heat crawled across his face and over his ears, and he honestly had no clue the last time something or someone had made him blush. But Patton, acknowledging his scare-factor while somehow making it obvious he felt only safe with him, was apparently what ticked that box.

“Right,” chirped Remus, “That’s- me!”

“Of course it is, Silly,” Patton bumped their shoulders together, smiling like he had no idea what he was doing- and to be honest, he probably didn’t.

Remus drank in the contact, happily using it as an excuse to wrap his arms around Patton and pull him closer. He buried his face in Patton’s shoulder, because as far as his impulses told him, he should either get the fuck away A.S.A.P. or drag Patton in as close as possible and not let go. Obviously, Remus had a preference.

“You- uh- I was being serious though,” ugh, God, stuttering was so goddamn annoying- how did Virgil cope? “You should talk. I’m- I’m sorta overwhelmed.”

That was the truth, or part of it. Admitting it out loud at least managed to take some of the power out of it.

Patton immediately cooed at him- it should have been annoying; it wasn’t- and wrapped him up in his arms properly, muttering little of courses and do you need anything?s. Remus melted into him, finally claiming that spot in his lap (and any jokes his mind might have had about that were long gone, by then), shaking his head and glowing under the attention.

Of course Patton was happy- after making sure that Remus was alright- to do some of the talking. He talked about his day, what he wanted to do later, or tomorrow, and of cute things that he’d seen, and a hundred other inconsequential Patton-isms.

Remus was unused to sitting and listening, but with him… it wasn’t as bad as the Duke remembered it being.

Oh, he was so fucking fucked.

Chapter Nine

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @donnieluvsthings @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @gayformlessblob @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @thefivecalls

#sanders sides #ts #intruality #qpr intruality #patton sanders #remus sanders #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction

15 notes · View notes

haikyuuscreaming · 5 years

Note

omg hi! you started off your blog greatly, im so proud of you! do you think you can write an angsty scenario for akaashi? where his crush likes this guy and wants help from him and he feels all sad :( but she ends up confessing to him! i love your writing so far, keep it up!

UMM so i accidentally got really invested in this so it’s WAYY longer than a drabble and i often write long stuff bc of ao3 so this might sound a little more like that kinda fanfic style instead of a tumblr scenario? mainly cos im really a sucker for this stuff hehehe love you anon

also ! the request made it sound sort of akaashi-centric so i hope you dont mind? there will still be a lot of reader-chan here though! please dont leave yet and i hope u enjoy

again ALSO i wrote this half on my laptop half on my phone so please dont mind if it seems a lil clunky in some areas

3092 words jesus ok here you go

Crushes weren’t necessarily a new sensation for Akaashi. Just an uncommon one. In fact, the last time he remembers even being attracted to someone was in first grade when everyone had a crush on this popular girl. He’s not even sure if he really liked her, or just found the idea of it interesting.

Now, second year of high school, Akaashi finds himself in trouble. Because for once, he really, really, really likes this girl. You.

He can’t even fake himself out of this, because every damn time he looks at you, he feels all warm and tingly and his stomach feels less calm and he can hear his heart bump against his ribcage and god, his face even flushes a little bit.

(A little bit inconvenient when he accidentally finds himself staring at you and daydreaming.)

Akaashi doesn’t like this feeling.

I mean, yeah, Akaashi has somewhat of a sense of confidence in his looks, manners, and ability to make friends. He’s not exactly the top in each subject he thinks, but it lets him pass through high school without too much of a depressingly lonely life. He could easily befriend you and steal your heart, his inner ego-brat says.

But.. but what if you reject him?

He should become closer to you.

(For the record, he doesn’t not like the feeling. He kind of likes the serotonin boost you give him. But he definitely, more than kind of likes you.

A lot more.)

And one day, in the spring, he finds himself paired up with a special biology partner. With familiar, sparkling eyes and the cutest, most gorgeous voice he’s ever heard that always makes his heart fucking backflip.

Akaashi doesn’t think he can survive this.

His teacher blares, “Start brainstorming ideas for your science fair project! It’s due in a month, you know!”, but Akaashi blocks out the noise because all he can focus on is you, goddamn it. He can only focus on the way you push your hair out of your face, the way your lips upturn into the most stunning smile he’s ever had the fate of encountering, and he really hopes he doesn’t get h-

“Akaashi-kun?”

(Fuck you and your completely gorgeous voice that drives him up the wall and makes him want to kiss you.)

“Oh– sorry, yeah?” He kind of hates himself for how his voice lilted a pitch higher.

You laugh, sounding like a goddess. He hopes that it means you don’t hate him. “Ahaha, I was just wondering if you have any ideas for the science fair? It’s a pretty big chunk of our grade, and I am… not the smartest when it comes to AP Bio..”

Akaashi thinks quite the opposite, but he isn’t currently in the position to contradict you.

“Um…” He pauses and thinks furiously. He comes up with some borderline generic idea that has enough room for a unique twist. And your eyes brighten.

“Waaaoo, Akaashi-kun’s a genius, hm?”

(God, he thinks he might have a little more than a crush on that teasing grin and glittering pair of eyes.)

He musters the courage to smile without looking stupid. “Of course.”

Two weeks later, he wants to sink into a hole.

Yes, it might have been his request that you two meet up to work on the project, but that was because he knew you were a procrastinator! You would start the project the night before if he’d let you!

But it was not his idea to do it at his house.

Now he has to live with the fact that you’re lying on HIS bed, spread-eagled in your sweater and shorts, complaining about how lazy you are.

(He wonders how you’re so comfortable about wearing shorts to a male classmate’s house. You two aren’t even that close, although you claim otherwise.)

“Come on, get up,” he rolls his eyes. “We have work to do.”

“But I’m so tiiiiiredddd… and lazyyyy…. wouldn’t it be such a gentlemanly act of Akaashi-kun to do the project for me?” You flash him a sweet smile while stretching out even more on the bed.

Snorting, he watches you sink into his mattress and roll around idly. “Hey, don’t you need the grade? You can’t pass if you make me do your work.”

Sighing, you hum in defeated content. “Well, it was worth a try.” You reach out your hand and tousle his wavy hair, and he almost flinches at the touch. He hates to say it but he loves it so much that you’re so affection with him, and Akaashi knows he would give anything to keep you teasing him with all this attention.

“Yeah.. yeah, it was,” he murmurs to himself before letting himself sit down next to you. He notices how you scrunch your body from a spread-eagle to a cute, curled up position to make room for him.

“Mm, so how are we gonna do this?” you ask, with a subtle mixture of bored and curious seeping into your tone. Then, he watches your features melt into a warm, mischievous smile as you hum, “Unless you just wanna nap and cuddle or something.”

(Holy fuck.)

Akaashi forces himself to scowl playfully and he shakes his head, sighing loudly in mock disappointment. “I don’t know what to do with you.” And equally as teasing, he adds, “I should just kick you out and not treat you to lunch if you’re going to be like this.”

“Noooooo!!!” you whine in this adorably frustrated and threatening voice. “Don’t you dare starve me or I’m feeding you to the rats.”

He chuckles. “See, that’s what I thought.”

But of course, your face wraps into a devilish grin as you say in a singsong voice and throw your arms around him (which makes him flush and makes his heart go WABAM), “It doesn’t matter though, ‘cause I got this whole-ass meal right here~”

“Shut up.”

(But you both know he never means it.)

Thanks to Akaashi (and your obliging albeit lazy participation), you two blow the science fair out of the way and get an A. He’s never seen you so delighted about a grade.

“I’m so happy~” you never shut up about how grateful you are for him, not that he’s complaining. “This is probably the highest mark I’ve ever gotten in this class.”

“Don’t over exaggerate. You’re not too bad at Bio,” Akaashi remarks. “You just need a tutor, probably, if you’re struggling.”

(By the way, he is ecstatic that you two are ACTUALLY FRIENDS!!! He’s even met your dog!!)

“Hmmmm…” You eye him warily before shrugging. “Whatever you say, Akaashi-kun.” Your eyes flit around before returning on him, and you start rambling about the newest anime you’ve gotten into and how it’s practically on-par with the manga, and how hot one of their characters are-

(For some reason Akaashi really zeroes in on that part.)

He really feels like he has to contribute something to the conversation, so he puts in, “Wow, [Name]-san, you’re such a fangirl.”

You snort loudly and put two peace-signs to your face like some kawaii anime girl, doing this mock-sweet smile. “Waaaooo, you’re rightttt. I’m Akaashi-kun’s number one fan!! He’s so cute when he’s yelling at me to do my work and super hot when he helps me with homew-”

He swears to god his face is radiating an inhuman amount of heat and he rolls his eyes before shaking his head and jabbing your side lightly. “Didn’t I tell you not to say that?”

“Ummm, maybe.” Your ‘innocent’ grin tells him otherwise. “But you know, you’re right, Akaashi-kun,” you cross your arms and give your cute little smirk again. “I am a genius, and I’m suuuper good at Bio. I just need someone to channel it.” And you lean forward until both your noses are touching, and Akaashi thinks he’s about to explode. “So maybe you could help me out?”

The subtle pleading undercurrent in your voice compels Akaashi to straighten up a little bit without flushing even redder. Keep cool, keep cool.

(He prays that his skill of keeping a poker face will hide the blood rushing around in his dick.)

“Well, what time?”

This time around, he finds himself at your house instead. You both are sitting at your desk, ‘working’ on your math and Bio homework. In other words, just talking.

He’s confident now in that the two of you are close friends. He’s learned that from afar, you were a sweet and confident yet perfectly kind girl. That was the girl he based his feelings off of. During your Bio project, he found the cheeky, sly and vibrant yet chill girl who always teased him but was still nonetheless sweet.

And now, under that facade, you were an anxious mess with a shit-ton of insecurities.

(He thinks it’s funny how you boast that you’re just like Shrek. You have layers.)

Akaashi glances at you, groaning with your head down onto the table. “I hate math..” he hears you grumble.

“Hey, you’re not too bad. You just have to be careful when plugging in your equations,” he counters.

“But what if I can’t remember my equations??”

“We both know you’re fine at remembering them.”

“I’m gonna fail.”

“Have faith in yourself, because I do.” And Akaashi is being completely honest. His confidence in you being just fine and being able to pass all your classes is strong because he’s seen you work (after procrastinating). “You just have to work on not putting things off until the last minute.”

You make a frustrated noise before resting your chin on your propped hand. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just.. destined to be set back, y’know? Like, everything I do is gonna somehow backfire on me.”

He knows the feeling, especially late at night in bed, stressing over what tomorrow might bring him.

“And like… I have this whole thing set up for me. When people know me as a classmate, I’m an average student, right? Then when we’re like… ‘friends’, I’m all weird and tease-y.” You let out a loud sigh. “And to the unlucky people who get to this stage, I’m a mess.”

“Stop.” Akaashi’s surprised at how firm he is. “I’m grateful to have met you and to have become your friend, [Name]. You’re going to be fine, you need to trust yourself more. Because I trust you more than anything.”

(Yes, he is on first-name basis with you!! Yes, he trusts you even more than he might even trust Bokuto!!)

Your lips twitch into a small smile, one that he’s grown to love and adore. He’s confident that he’s so fucking deep in love and he doesn’t know how to move on. “You really think so?”

“Of course I do.” He flicks some crumpled-up post-it at you. “Since we’re not doing any homework anytime soon, what else do you want to talk about?”

Your gaze becomes a little more shy and nervous. “Umm… Weeell, I need help.”

“I mean, why else would I be here?”

“No, seriously, Keiji-kun. Seriously!!” You throw mock-fit, despite obviously looking anxious.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m listening. Sorry.”

“Uh. Um, so…” You blink and pretend to look focused on doodling on the corner of your math paper. “There’s this dude I like. Like, I reaaally like him, which is surprising even for me.” You laugh a little bit, and as Akaashi feels his heart start to tear in half, he forces out a chuckle to match. “He’s suuuper pretty– I think that’s the word for it? Pretty. And he’s kinda funny in his own way, and he’s really sweet and listens to me all the time even when I don’t deserve his time. And I dunno, I think he might like me back? Also, I really really really like him. But I don’t really know how to confess…

“Because you know, I’m kinda wack like that, haha. I’ll probably screw up the confession and make things worse, and, well, I need help.” You finish your ramble with a loud breath and you collapse your head onto the table, groaning.

“Uh–” Fuck, oh fuck him, fuck his life. “I mean… I think just a heartfelt confession would do? Something simple and sweet that says you really like him, in case somehow your words don’t work.” Akaashi feels like he’s sweating, a lot, and he feels even more frustrated than ever. His heart is crashing against his ribcage, and his mind is a fucking mess.

You frown a little bit, and suddenly a gush of words fly out of your mouth like a stream bursting from a dam. “Oh my god, what if I’m reading the signs all wrong and he doesn’t at all like me back? I mean, I wouldn’t blame him because I’m kinda ugly and have this weird personality thing going on and I’m shit at math and Bio-”

“Stop.” Akaashi forces himself to intervene, mainly because 1) you’re literally the light of his life and 2) he feels like he has to leave really soon after dealing with the news. “Shut up, [Name]. You aren’t ugly at all, and I, for one, enjoy your weird personality. And I already told you, you’re fine with academics.” He makes himself make eye contact with you, peering up from your arm covering your face, and says, “If he rejects you, he isn’t worth your time at all and you should move on.”

(Preferably with me.)

He watches you exhale, like he just unwound a tight spring from inside of you, and your shoulders relax and you melt from your anxious state, just a little bit. “You’re right. If.. if he doesn’t feel the same, I’ll just forget about him.”

“Because you’re a genius.” Akaashi tries to hype you up, but he still feels like crumbling. Falsely checking his phone, he stretches and stands up. “I have to go now, sorry. My mom asked me to pick up my little sister from tutoring.”

“Huh, already?” Confusion flits across your face, and it hurts him even more to just leave you after you confided in him, but he knows he has to leave before he says something he might regret. “Oh, okaayy.. see you tomorrow then. Thanks for helping me out.” You yawn before standing up to hug him goodbye.

“No problem.” He says it casually, but Akaashi feels his mood drop faster and lower than ever. He hugs you back, but he breaks away fast.

After leaving your house and collapsing onto his bed in his locked bedroom (with his 11-year-old sister knocking on the door and curiously asking what’s wrong), he can’t help but feel hurt that you couldn’t even tell him who your mystery crush’s name was.

A week passes by, and neither of you mention the conversation at your house. It doesn’t matter either way, since you two are still so casually best friends. At the same time, he desperately wants to push the matter just to find out who it is.

Otherwise, Akaashi has noticeably been more quiet and moody to the point that he doesn’t know how to control it. Sure, he keeps up the same as he would before your conversation, but he can’t help but feel his heart sink everytime he sees you. His mind is ecstatic every time he talks to you, while simultaneously wanting to tear itself apart.

He’s tried getting rid of feelings for you, in literally every way possible. From avoiding thinking about you (which backfired horribly because he ended up thinking more about you) to focusing on other girls (ew, none of them were even capable of creating the same effect on him as you do), he’s tried it all and it’s all failed.

Akaashi realizes his silent slump has gotten so bad to the point that Bokuto made him sit out a few practice matches in the gym just because Akaashi was nowhere near the spot that any of the team expected him to be at.

After school, he meets with you near the vending machine as always. You buy two cans of coffee, one for you and one for him.

As soon as he takes the can gratefully, you clear your throat.

“Yeah, [Name]?”

Glancing around before staring him in the eye, you start, “Keiji-kun, before you run away, I just…. I just wanted to let you know I really really really like you. Like, a lot.” You start speaking kind of fast, so Akaashi can’t process what you’re saying.

“And I mean it. Ever since the Bio project, you’ve been so nice to me and you’ve been such a great friend even though I made it hard sometimes, and along the way I just caught feelings. You honestly mean everything to me, and I appreciate you so much for everything we’ve been through. I- I think, I love you, Keiji. And I hope you accept my feelings.” You smile, almost nervously but nonetheless sincere, and Akaashi thinks he’s about to explode.

“I- I,” Fuck, oh my fucking god, he thinks to himself. He’s shaking a little bit– that’s how happy he is. “[Name], I..” God fucking damn it, he can’t even express how happy he is. He feels his cheeks blossom and he feels his lips quirk into this goofy smile.

But then he watches you shy away a little bit as you hurriedly say, “I- I mean, sorry. It’s okay if you just wanna be friends-”

“No.” Finally, Akaashi can use his mouth and then he gently takes your cheeks in his hands and closes the gap between you two, lips connecting in a display of pining and affection.

He practically melts into the kiss, he’s never been so happy. He thinks he’s actually about to implode; he’s been dreaming about kissing you like this, against your soft, plush lips. And finally he’s able to call you his, to call you the one. When the two of you finally break away for air, he’s breathing hard and his mind is a mess, which is rare considering his usual stoic state.

Akaashi has also never seen you so flustered and blushy. He murmurs into your ear as he takes your hand, “Feelings are 100% reciprocated.”

“I can tell,” you laugh breathily, and he’s so happy to hear that some of your anxiety has dissolved in that sweet kiss. He’s absolutely infatuated with you in every aspect. He leans in for a soft, quicker kiss on the lips and savors the feeling of warmth he gets. “Dork.”, he whispers.

“Only for you.”

#akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #holy shit this is long #this wasnt supposed to happen

152 notes · View notes

madllamamomma · 4 years

Text

I Think I Have a Problem.... (A personal true story).

So as the title suggests, I have a strange problem…. Just as a warning, this is about my view of my younger self. It is about religion, and gender identity. This is not how I see the world anymore. It was how I told how the world should look. If you are offended in any way, please know this is a vent post and nothing to hurt anyone else. This is just what happened to me as a child. Shit….. This is about to get very long winded, so buckle up and here we go… *takes deep breath*

So a little backstory on your Mother Llama: I was raised in a weird backward ass “Independent” Baptist church most of my young life. If you guys don’t know what those are, be thankful…. But I guess I should explain it the best way I can…. they are a borderline cult. Yes. I said it. I’m not sorry. It may sound like an extreme accusation, but hold on. Just listen to me.

Now, I have no problem with Christians, or religion. You should believe whatever you want to believe in…. I do however, have a problem when religion is used as an excuse to not educate minds about the real world, force them to not let them think for themselves, and when someone questions any of it, they are punished or shamed for it instead of thinking about an answer. If you can’t tell, I am still a little angry about that shit. Imma try to keep on topic here….

I wasn’t taught science (real science anyways, it was all about ‘creation’ bs—OH! And being anything but a cis straight person was compleltly unexceptable. Woman were the weaker sex and were made to raise babies and take care of the husband. Men were superior and should be taken care of.) nor about World history or about other cultures, other than biblical of course. And when they were mentioned, they made them look evil and behave like heathens because they didn’t believe the same as they did. Everything changed when I went to public school half of fourth grade when my family moved to a different state and there wasn’t any church school like I went to. I learned a lot those years, that ‘The World’ wasn’t as bad of a place as they said it was. It was vast and had many things to offer. (No, not the World, Dio’s stan power from Jojo’s bizarre adventures—that is what our pastors called anything outside of the Baptist approved realm. Something ‘Worldly’ was basically something sinful and ungodly and therefor was bad and wrong).

So this may seem like a strange Segway in to what I am actually getting at, but I had a huge crush on this boy back when I was young and it started when I was about 12 or 13 years old and ended when I was 16. He was the same age as me, and he was the son of a pastor of a small church of about 20 people, mostly military families— we will call him.... D.... for dick...

I thought for a long time that I ‘loved’ D. I thought that ‘God made him for me’ (yes I really said that and it hurt to even write it). I really thought I knew what love was back then, but I was very wrong.

D was homeschooled, he didn’t have many friends and was also a navy brat like I was. So, naturally, we got along very well, and I would hang out with him at his house sometimes. We mainly played video games I was terrible at and he would always bet me. But I liked hanging out with him, so I didn’t care if I won or not. My heart for some reason was totally head over heels over D. And he liked me too for a while… or at least I thought he did… He however never made a move. I always thought D was just too shy, and didn’t know how to ask me. Any time I tried holding his hand, I’d chicken out. It was a stalemate. But this particular church did a thing where people had to court. Yes... COURT someone, not DATE (Courting is where you had adult chaperones keeping an eye on you two, you were never really alone. Ever, because apparently you can’t be trusted?). When we both turned 15 yo, D started a private Christian school. Being the awkward girl I was, I never told him how I felt, I just waiting for him to say something. Time passed, and I still waited and waited for him to ask me out.

But here’s the thing! He didn’t know the real me.

I was in public school, in middle school, and I started to become a weeb. Like a super cringy weeb that didn’t like anything else but anime—I was also kinda emo/punk kid thought I was edgy. (Yeah rock music was bad too, it was ‘Worldly’).Not a very good mix for Baptist I know. At school, I was one person, and at church I was another.

Well, being an anime fan meant I was exposed to a lot of things like the LGTB+ community for the first time. A lot of my friends at the time started to come out other than straight and that was very new to me.

During that time, I soon was starting to secretly question my faith, my understanding of my own sexuality and gender. Like, maybe people liking the same sex or both is actually not a bad thing after all (if you haven’t seen any of my works, hopefully you guys know that I know better that what I was taught—I am a proud fuckin’ ally! I still consider myself cis-straight, but some days I feel like I’m bi-curious, and that’s ok! It took me a long time to realize that, but I’m here now. Gender roles are dead and stupid.)

So here is the kicker~ One faithful day we had a guest pastor join us for a few weeks from another church. This mother fuckin’ nasty ass old white man from Alabama came with his ‘perfect quiet godly’ wife. Who badly ever spoke a damn word. She always just sat in the corner all ‘ladylike’.

—Oh!!! Another fun fact, I didn’t wear pants for a year when I was 10 yo becasue that was considered “cross dressing”— I’m dead fucking serious. My parents then decided after attending sporting events and stuff like that to drop that ludicrous lifestyle, becasue it was stupid. So, Outside of church, my family and I still wore pants and shorts and whatever, but in church we pretended that we didn’t wear anything but modest skirts, dresses, and long culottes. (That’s a little damaging…. don’t you think? Telling people your one thing, when in reality you're not like that at all??)

Anyways— I hated skirts, especially wearing them in the state we lived in, it was way too hot and I’d get chafed (these had to be knee length or longer btw). And of course that guest preacher would preach about the sins of women wearing pants, but I didn’t care. I wore them for so long, it just made me angry anytime someone would bring that up. I liked my jeans and I was starting to become a rebel teen who gave less than a fuck and started to speak my mind. Which was dangerous to that community…. Also I had a bad tendency of not keeping my legs together when I bent down, and one time I accidently showed my underwear (that’s really embarrassing btw, it’s not cute, it’s not funny, it’s awful when you're 14 yo-- really any age actually).

So, one day I wore a long jean skirt for a youth outing with the church. I was required to wear it, but I always wore leggings underneath so I wouldn’t accidentally show my undies if I fell down or the wind blew it. This fucker had to say something about it. The old man turned to me with a wrinkled smirk as I was passing by him and dared to utter, “Now, don’t you feel most femine and ladylike in that skirt? I’m sure Jesus would like seeing you like that.”

My shoulders clench up tight, my brow furrows. All I can remember seeing is fucking red and actually trembling with fury. (This was happening in my pastor, D’s father’s, own living room mind you.) D was there watching as I blanched about ten shades of red in anger and embarrassed because that prick of an old man called me out in front of everyone. I turned to him and half shouted, “NO! I don’t!” I could see my pastor’s mouth drop to the floor as I began to completely obliterate this old man. But I couldn't stop myself as I started to further cut into him. “—I hate wearing skirts! I don’t feel ladylike! In fact, they make me feel vulnerable! What if some guy tries to rape me! They won’t have any problem getting to me!—Why is something with a whole on the bottom more ladylike than something that actually covers me?! I like pants! They are comfortable and they make me feel safe! Why is that a sin to wear something that is more covering?!?! I’m not cross dressing, my mom bought them in the girl’s session!! [Keep in mind that was a long time ago, I don’t feel like people should care about what section they get their clothes from, wear what you want] And what do you know about wearing a skirt?! You’re a man! You try wearing them! They suck! You need to stop telling me what I can and can’t wear! I’m not dressing like a whore for wearing something with a crotch!! SO LEAVE ME ALONE!!” Everyone in the living room was just stunned at my audacity to dare speak to this pastor like I did. But he was so fucking quiet after that. And I stormed out of the house and the guest pastor never spoke to me again about it. Luckily my mom came and picked me shortly after that. She was angry too after I told her what happened. That old fuck singled me out and I was pissed off. I was a teenager and that shit was embarrassing!

But I made the mistake of showing my true self. I think after that moment, D stopped liking me after that.

Some shit went down south with my parents behind closed doors of my household, and eventually they got divorced. They left the small church because the pastor didn’t approve of it. Pastor said that my parents just needed more counseling but he didn't understand that they just needed to not be together. Sometimes you can’t make things work. Especially when your dad is a toxic piece of shit that only cares about himself.

Anyways, everyone in my family left the church, but I stuck around that shit-hole just to see if D would ask me out. I was so desperate, I felt like I waited forever, but really it was like 2-3 years, and I felt like I couldn’t give up. Eventually D and I turned 16. He started to become distant and a little mean towards me and I became confused and started to realize the worst. Finally, I was tired of waiting so I asked his older sister if he liked me on the way back taking me home. I could see it in her face, that she didn’t want to have my heart broken, but reluctantly she told me no. He actually liked another girl at his new private school and was going to ask her parents to court her instead.

I was so devastated.... It hurt so much, I cried myself to sleep that night, and most of that week I was very sad.

Obviously, after that, I stopped going to church entirely, I couldn't show my face anymore. Finally let myself question my faith, sexuality, gender roles, and humanity all together. And realized that religion was stupid (in my opinion at the time) and I came u with the conclusion that people can be sheep. I was a sheep for a long time. And I refuse to be one ever again.

High school was very enjoyable after that, and I let myself grow and started to love other religions and world history, and tried to stop being so judgmental of others and what they felt like. I even got into a relationship with a sweet boy around my age.

Eventually in college, after a break-up with my high school sweetheart, I reconnected with D via FB. Apparently, the church went under and his parents moved away to Greece to be missionaries or something. D still lives in the same town I’m in, but graduated from a “Christian academy”—not Catholic, Christian. Catholic colleges are accredited at least. But he basically told me he was a secret “bad boy” now. He lost his virginity in highschool, (like I did) and he was totally trying to booty call me. Not even hiding it either! He was like, “Hey, Llama, you wanna fuck?”.

And I was like, “D! You broke my fucking heart when we were young! Don’t you remember that???”

And he was like, “Oh no! I had no idea! (the fuckin’ liar). Well, we can fuck now!~ *wink, wink*”

🤨

This is where I was a jerk.... Because he broke my heart. I led him on, told him I would meet up with him at his house to sleep with him, and just didn’t show up—ghosted him ever since. The worst part about that, is I still don’t regret doing that to him. I hope I hurt his feelings and felt like an ass like I did.

So years have passed, I consider myself as a rather successful woman now. I’m 27, I consider myself Buddhist (I am a terrible Buddhist I know), I am an Occupational Therapy Assistant and I have a great husband (I married the guy I was with in high school). And he loves the real me—the crazy closet weeb, cartoon watching, creative, expressive, me! The person who also writes fanfiction about a romance novel and he is fine with it. Because he is a huge nerd too and we are both nerds together.

My husband is my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him. When I write about Rhemi and Muriel, I draw a lot of inspiration with our conversation we have and how relationship dynamics are and I think it makes the writing more authentic and makes them feel a bit more real.

I love my husband more than anything… So why do I keep dreaming about that stupid asshole that just liked the fake me? D was and always will be a total tool. He is like the basic bitch of a man. And yet I still find him creeping in my dreams and I try to cheat on my husband with him in them. I wake up feeling totally terrible and weird after them too. D is a terrible fucking person—the worst person you can be in my opinion—The kind of person why lies and tells people one thing, but hides the fact that he’s really just a nasty fuck boy. If you are one, just be honest! Don’t tell another woman you're a good christan man, when really you’ve slept with not just one, but multiple girls! That how you get fucking STDs! I hate being lied to, and I’m sure other girls do too! So I guess that’s why I do, because I felt like I was lied to my entire life. Then again, why should I even care?! Why do I feel like I still obsess over him? I hate him so much now! So why do I even care? Why do I still find myself stalking him on social media? Why does it even matter? Why do I want him to see I’m happy without him? Why do I want him to see what he could have had with me? We were just stupid teenagers! Why did I care so much? Why did it hurt so much when I found out he didn’t like me?! It’s been over a decade, and we didn’t even really date! Why did this affect me so hard? …. FUCK!

So yeah. That’s my long ass rant for you all… thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#story time #mad llama momma story #true story #weird dreams #why does my brain do this?#anybody relate?#does anyone get me?#vent post

6 notes · View notes

1stunseeliefaelass · 4 years

Text

Darksiders Arthurian Tales Revisited

Chapter 26: Hauntings Ancient and New

"To be honest...I want to protect the ones I care about. And my Mama calls our home a tavern, but it's really a brothel. My Mama and the girls mean a lot to me, they were there for me when no one else was. Seeing the abuse some of those girls endured....just made me want to protect them. Mi familia." Arn tells her after some thought.

"That's a very honorable virtue you have. I hope you get to see your family again." Anna replies taking his hand.

Arn feels a warmth he's been missing for a long while. Course then his stomach interrupts that for him. He turns bright red as Anna giggles at the massive growl that comes from it. Luckily their food comes on down soon enough. Anna begins savoring her meal of lamb chops happily, whilst Arn enjoys a juicy steak inside broth. Arn's eyes widen as he savors the first bite, before he begins devouring it quickly. He stops halfway into it though as Anna is holding back the urge to giggle again. That and he can sense a possible boot about to be thrown his way. So he cleans up his manners and begins eating slowly like Anna is doing. He then chooses to pay for the meal to be a gentleman, since he has money from his arena winnings. Anna is thankful but decides to pay for a dessert for both of them to share. A pretty hefty ice cream sundae clearly made for two. Anna gets all giddy each time their spoons come close. Arn then gets an idea and asks if she'd like a bite of the ice cream flavor on his side. Anna nods accepting it, and lights up with delight as he spoon feeds her the bite. Her ears flitting to and fro to Arn's own delight. He's then surprised by Anna doing the same for him. His tail pops out and wags a little bit as he accepts the bite, then her smile makes his ears flit as hers are doing. Anna sees his tail is out and decides to reveal hers too, feeling comfortable enough around him. Oddly enough, it's got a cream colored tip that looks a bit like a heart. Arn can't help but comment on it.

"That is kinda cute."

Blushing a little Anna tells him, "Really? I used to get bullied for it."

"At least you have some color. Mine is just black.", Arn says raising his tail to show her.

"The guys who teased me probably would've liked you. They were all for solid colors, and compared me to a fox."

"I likely would've made them eat their words. Plenty of girls I knew had pretty fur colors." Arn states with conviction.

"Really? Shame we only met today. Would've enjoyed such a sweet protector."

Arn chuckles before saying, "And I probably would've liked having such a beauty for company, a f-friend even...if n-not more."

Anna giggles and blushes hard, "You really think I'm pretty?"

"Yes. Y-you're pretty. B-beautiful even!" Arn quickly shouts in extreme nervousness before holding his mouth shut.

Anna is surprised by that proclamation of course, "Oh wow....that's...gotta be the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Arn flattens his ears and tucks his tail as he gets a bit more embarrassed, "I'm sure there's been other people who t-t-t-thought so."

"Actually aside from my parents and family, not really. Although.....if you're saying that....does it mean that you like.....that I'm your....eh uhm......you know your....c-c-crush I guess?" Anna inquires shyly as her own ears flatten too.

He is silent for a while before he finally replies, "I guess so."

Nergal suddenly comes up asking, "Do you wish to have a bit chardonnay, brandy, or bourbon? Or maybe a nice shot of gin? Or maybe you two lovebirds....wait sorry no... would you two adolescents like some absinthe?"

All of sudden Esmie pops in, "Oh no you don't amigo, get over here."

"I'm sorry but I'm assisting." Nergal explains before she jumps up and grabs him by the ear.

As the two begin bickering a bit, Anna glances at Arn before motioning away from the area. She then finally whispers to him as he doesn't get it.

"Let's get out of here."

Arn gets a moment of realization before quickly nodding and vacating with her right away. Esmie doesn't notice they're gone until Nergal chuckles a bit to himself.

"Wait....where did they go?"

"My work here is done." Nergal states before turning to walk off with Esmie still on his ear.

"Usted hijo de puta!" Esmie shouts before smacking him across the face, to no reaction whatsoever from him.

"Hmhmhmhm....That won't do much good. Now let's get going so that the couple can enjoy themselves. And also....kindly remove yourself from my ear. I'm not into rabbit foot bling." Nergal simply tells her.

"Oh calla ojete." Esmie tells him annoyed before letting go finally.

Nergal just laughs at her, "Question? Do you have anyone in your life? Aside from your son, any other man in your life?"

"I do not. As a businesswoman, I lack the time most other ladies have. It would benefit Arn to have a male presence in his life sure, but the regular bounty hunters from the local guild would likely do just fine. They're all good men, the lot of them. Although that Sygr fellow is.....actually nevermind. Forget I said anything." Esmie explains.

"So are you into giants yourself?"

"Shut. It." Esmie tells him a bit miffed.

"Already pushing buttons? Hmm, usually it takes longer. Perhaps what I said wasn't appropriate then. Maybe Sygr just reminds you of someone. You did say your friend, Arn's Father Argus, was a demon didn't you?"

"Watch it."

"Just how close were you two?" Nergal asks her, knowing full well what's coming.

Esmie about goes into her full form, but just as quickly holds back. Placing her hands on a nearby bench as she takes a few deep breaths. Finally she looks back at Nergal when she's absolutely sure she won't explode, "It's none of your business, not a story for you. Now leave it be."

"What kind of nightmare happened with you? Do tell, I'm rather interested. You tell, I tell. Simple enough?" Nergal questions her sitting down on that very bench.

"Argus and I were always friends. It never went further.....although I sometimes wish it did. I enjoyed his company, his personality, and even his appearance. But I knew better than to be a homewrecker. So when Argus began speaking of Clawdette, I let him have her. I never once got in their way, even viewed Clawdette as an older sister of sorts. She was tough, no nonsense, and while somewhat feral she was still caring. I was never jealous of her, not once. Their deaths both hit me harder than I care to admit. I kept it hidden from Arn as he grew, but I couldn't hold it together forever. Not all the time. You've no idea how many times I drank myself stupid over them. Or how much worse it got after Arn was taken away from me. I try to be strong, only to end up back in the pit."

"What's that like? The pit? I've never been in it, at least to my current knowledge."

"When I say pit, I mean depression. That feeling of just pure emptiness. Like nothing has meaning. That feeling that keeps you up at night, the feeling you get that ensures you don't want to leave your bed in the morning. You just become so indifferent to almost everything and everyone. You stop paying attention to what's around you. You wallow in your own self pity, pain, suffering, or whatever may have brought you to that ever swallowing pit of despair."

"Well then, I guess I was born in this pit." Nergal responds simply.

Esmie gets a shocked expression and immediately questions, "How is that even possible? To be born into perpetual depression?"

"Try being born without the capability to express emotions properly. With them being distant or none existent at times. Them being overbearing almost difficult to handle. To have a need that you know will never be fulfilled. Knowing someone loves you, but you cannot love them back. But you must try, or else your purpose is no longer necessary in your eyes. Or seeking someone's approval, that you'll never get. I dunno if that's a pit but, it somewhat fits your description."

"Sounds like a mix of that and borderline sociopathy. Course I could just not know you well enough yet. You said you knew someone loves you at least, even if loving them is damn near impossible. So do you perhaps have the ability to express things like compassion or empathy?", Esmie inquires calmly.

"Based on what I can remember, compassion is an interesting emotion. It's....it's hard to describe. To feel remorse for something that is insignificant or is that incorrect?"

"You're way off. Remorse is to put it simply, feeling bad for something you have done. Compassion is just being kind and the ability to be that way. Giving kindness for the sake of it and for the sake of others. Sometimes even yourself to feel good for the day." Esmie explains.

"Ah I see....I have found I can be kind. At least according to the woman I share a bed with. If you count tree roots as a bed anyway." Nergal states before noticing Esmie's weird expression, "She's a Dryad."

"Oh ok, now I get it. But Dryads can read others extremely well, better than most demons I daresay. If she says you're kind, then surely she's correct. Does she tell you you're anything else? That you have certain things to you that you may not notice?"

"She tells I'm often cold and distant, and yet warm and close. It's very strange. I'm a very messed up individual by your standards. I need to go find some food of my own now though. Why don't you think upon the Sygr situation, I'm going to a tavern and probably going to make a man question his drinking problems." Nergal explains before walking off.

Esmie is unsure of what to make of the situation but decides to consider how being with Sygr might pan out for her. Where as Morgen and Death have finally returned for the books she requested. As expected, there was precious little. In fact the 'book' itself, was incredibly small and shaped like a heptagon with a seven pointed star etched on the front cover for a design. The cover was simply a darkened leather with pages that looked extremely old. Even the language it was written in baffled Morgen.

"I'm sorry miss, but this is all I could find. I'd have told you it's contents if I could read the language. But it's not one I know." The elder pixie librarian told her.

"It's quite alright. I half expected there'd be nothing. Oh well, we'll just bring these back to our carriage for now. Thank you...oh and of course here's money to replace their vacant spaces."

Death then picks up the heavy box of spellbooks and other books in general and heads out to drop it off at the carriage. Morgen stays behind to pay for it all of course. Then she joins Death outside.

"Sorry to make you do that heavy lifting. Hopefully you're healed enough after every...."

"Believe me I'm fine."

Morgen then looks back towards the old path and shudders, "I severely doubt those guards are though."

"Yeah but we likely would've had to kill them ourselves if they weren't hollow statues now. Let's just be glad we were spared an unneeded fight. So I'm guessing the language of the book is unknown to you as well?"

"I've looked through it, and I can't say I recall it's meaning. I feel like I should know what it's saying and yet I don't." Morgen expresses a bit discouraged.

Death pauses as he's tying the box down and gently places a hand under her chin. He then lifts her face up, "Hey now, don't get discouraged. Perhaps it's part of your memories, and you just haven't reached that part yet. So what if you don't recall? Memory is rarely perfect, sometimes it's even wrong all together. Now...where is everyone?"

"Thank you Death. And I don't know." Morgen replies looking around a bit confused before continuing, "Maybe we could just rest in the carriage for now? Wait until everyone is back."

"Or perhaps we could actually do something else around the village for a bit. A simple walk perhaps?" Death suggests offering his arm.

Morgen snickered softly but wrapped her arm in his, "Look at you being all open to enjoying social activities Mr. Antisocial."

"Said Ms. Social Butterfly, who wanted to rest in the carriage for the rest of the day." Death points out.

Morgen rolls her eyes as Death chuckles a bit. They walk past the tavern Nergal's in and notice a man looking very much drained. Then a few more are seen as they pass it by. They decide to avoid the tavern for now and focus on enjoying the walk together. Course they do stop for a bit of dinner as well. Morgen mostly tells Death a few of the nicer stories about her childhood as he listens intently. Course she does eventually coax him into telling a few stories himself. Such as any about how he met his friends and a few regarding his family members. Ultimately the two enjoy each other's company.

Arn and Anna meanwhile had decided to go see the secret place Anna mentioned before. After following an ancient looking pathway with ivy and other plants covering it, Arn saw it. A ruined castle like fortress that had clearly seen a battle once. One that was a massacre from what he could gather as he observed the skeletal remains of knights around him. What he didn't expect, was that he only saw knights of Uther's kingdom. No other combatants' bodies lay around there. Either none of the enemy died, they were each other's enemies for some reason, or something different happened. Arn briefly thought he could hear the sounds of the men's battle cries and deaths in the air around him.

Anna's voice suddenly pierced through to him, "Hey Arn, you ok over there? You kinda spaced out for a second."

"Yeah I'm fine.", Arn replied before focusing on her and avoiding the skeletons.

The two then began to enter the ruins proper. Arn found the fact that there were more skeletons inside to be VERY disconcerting. Course Anna came up to him and held his hand.

"It's ok, they're not gonna come to life I promise. They never have. Yeah they're a little scary at night but they're just remains...right?" Anna told him with a bit of nervousness.

"Well let's not try to disturb them. I get the feeling they didn't die peacefully.", Arn says even wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Anna blushes after a slight jump but quickly tells him, "Yeah uhm...let's not disturb them. The main building is my favorite place, it's got lots of interesting things in there."

"Right." Arn responds as she guides him to the main building.

The two then enter and the foyer holds many hallways that have been ravaged by both fires and time. Anna only leads him down the main one though, as it's the least cluttered. It leads to massive double doors and the two find ancient stairs behind them. They manage to hold up surprisingly, but Arn is still nervous about it as they go up. Finally at the top, Anna pulls him by the hand to a specific room. On the door of it are many intricate designs pertaining to the moon, night sky, and stars. The name plaque that was once on it was broken off at the intial, an M. Inside the room was a gorgeous bed that looked WAY too pristine for such an derelict place. In fact, most of the room looked to be in mostly good condition. Aside from occasional broken small items across the floor. Arn also sees a portrait that's torn in a specific place, lifting the torn part up, he sees an eerily familiar face.

Anna notes his reaction and comes over, "Something wrong?"

Arn shakes his head and drops the torn piece, "Nothing...just an old painting."

"Right. Well I guess the white haired lady is very pretty huh? I always wonder who she was. She always seems so happy in that portrait with the other knights. Do you think she had a good life? Or do you perhaps think more cynically than me?"

"I don't know...but she does look very happy." Arn states simply.

He does smirk a bit however. Knowing that despite everything, Morgen still has days when she smiles just as brightly.

Anna of course picks up a nearby book and hugs it, "This is her journal, at least I think it is. I know you're not supposed to read them, but....it's been such an inspiration for me. I wish I could've met her. Everyone always says she was a kind woman when I ask them. That she was always willing to help those who needed her. While not as good in fight as her fellow knights, she'd use her magic to defend and heal all she could."

Arn thinks for a minute before saying, "You speak of her like she was your role model."

"She is in a way. Do you wanna see her armor? It's still all nice and shiny. It's in this walk in closet over here." Anna asks as she hurries over to the doors.

Arn follows her and is in awe with her when he sees it, "Looks like it never saw a day of wear."

He feels however in the back of his mind that something is amiss, but can't quite place it. Instead he looks upon the set in more awe. The designs are as intricate as they come, which makes sense given that Morgen is a princess. The theme surprised him however, white and silvery blue for the colors with unicorn styled ornaments on it. Hanging off the pauldrons were tiny white unicorn horns on thin chains. The helm of sorts had a short unicorn horn attached to the front, the horn itself being cresent shaped. Aside from those decals, were moon and night designs mixed with scenes of unicorns that looked straight out of vintage paintings. Little do he or Anna know however, that a certain spirit has been stirred by their presence. Anna however keeps Arn busy so they remain oblivious as he approaches the room slowly.

"Her armor is just so beautiful, I'll bet when she wore it she was even more beautiful as a result."

"I'm sure she would...Anna...I have something to say..." Arn starts to say when he suddenly notices something in the armor, a reflection behind them of a figure. He suddenly shouts, "Get Behind Me!", drawing his long knife and putting Anna behind him to face the figure.

They find a ghostly knight before them who asks them two simple questions, "Why have you come? What do you want with this place?"

"What's it to you?", Arn responds making sure Anna is safely behind him.

"I once lived in these halls. I served the lady whose room and closet you're currently standing in. I defend this place even in death from intruders who would do harm here. So I will ask once more, and once only. WHY HAVE YOU COME AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?" The knight booms down at them.

Arn growls before he finally answers, "We didn't mean any harm. We were just looking around, nothing was taken."

"You will leave then, now. I see no reason for you to remain in this place of death. Nor do I see why you..." The knight explains before pointing at Anna, "...need to keep coming back here after tonight."

Anna protests of course, "Uh please....I've never taken anything. I always leaves things where they belong."

"Yet you continue to VIOLATE the privacy of my fair lady. Something she valued highly above most things aside from her duties to this realm."

"She inspires me! I never meant any harm! I love her story and if anything looked too personal I wouldn't read it. I always skipped those more personal bits." Anna pleads.

"Your intent may not have been bad. But I cannot let this slight go. I can only forgive it if you leave and never return. There's nothing here for the living, not anymore."

Arn however has his own two gilt to give, "What do you know of your lady? What she has become?"

"Who are you to ask me that? A child of wolf and....something else. Something....older. Far older than me."

Arn grits his teeth, "Watch what you say ghost."

"I have no obligation to you. I'm already dead so your threats mean nothing boy. Besides, even a young wolf from the arena is no match for the dead. Especially a knight who has disciplined himself in combat when compared to a savage gladiator."

"I WARNED YOU!" Arn shouts before charging the ghost.

The knight sighs before simply grabbing him by his head. With this act he slams Arn into the ground once before releasing him, "That will be your only warning child. Leave now while I'm still in a decent mood. I won't harm you further so long as you follow my instructions."

Arn gets up and growls before going to charge again. Anna however grabs his arm, "Stop it. Let's just go.....even if it means....I can't come back anymore..."

Arn notes her voice cracks and sees her beginning to cry. He relents, but tells the knight, "This is not over. You will see reason yet."

"And yet you failed to until just now? Believe me. There's nothing left to this folly. Just leave." The knight replies simply.

Anna then leads Arn away to leave the area, whilst the spirit remains in the room. His lonely vigil ever present, even in his demise.

Arn hugs Anna as they walk away outside, "I'm so sorry Anna. It's probably my fault he's being so harsh to you. But I promise I'll make sure you can keep going back there whenever you wish."

"How....how can you promise that?" Anna inquires as she sobs.

"Let's just say, I know somebody he'll have to listen to." Arn tells her.

"About what he said....the knight. What was he talking about?"

"Uhm....well you know I'm Werewolf. But the other part of me....it's something even scarier. I don't want to discuss it, but a lot of people hate the race my Father came from."

Anna looks at him sadly, "Oh. That sounds pretty shitty of them."

"People have good reasons to hate the race. But not everyone in the race was or is a bad person. At least Mama says my Father certainly was always better than his kin usually were."

Anna finds herself confused, but ultimately continues to question him, "What about the other part? Where he compared you to a gladiator?"

"I was in.......the arena...until recently. I was captured as a child....and forced to fight most of my life. Fighting at an early age has its privilege....and its price." Arn tells her reluctantly.

Anna looks horrified, which Arn expected, what he wasn't expecting is why she was horrified, "How much have you suffered?"

"More than I care to describe Anna. Anyway, can we...change the subject at least? Please? I really, REALLY don't like talking about this. Lot of bad memories from that place still haunt me." Arn implores of her.

"Oh of course. Sorry to bring that up."

"It's ok. You deserved to know. I kinda owed you for getting us kicked out of there." Arn replies.

"I don't blame you Arn. It wasn't your fault. I should've known I wouldn't be welcome." Anna tells him softly as her tears slowly begin to dry.

"Now let's go talk to that person I think will talk some sense into him."

Esmie soon spots the two and immediately hurries to Arn, "What happened niño? Why is your nose bloody?"

"I'm fine Mama, just a grumpy old ghost. I need to talk to Morgen about him in fact. Where is she?"

"On a walk with Death. They're actually nearly back from what I can see. Why don't you head back to the carriage. I suspect we'll be leaving soo.."

"Mama please, just a bit longer. Besides, it may take a while for Morgen to help us out." Arn protests to her.

Esmie sighs at him, "And what could she possibly need to help you with niño?"

"The ghost that apparently fucked up my nose. He's guarding the place we were at and is being an ass. Especially in regards to Anna. I promised I'd help her continue to be able to keep going back to her favorite place. It's really important to her Mama. Please."

Esmie thinks silently for a moment before hearing Death question her, "Why is it that Arn looks like he was hit recently?"

"Arn actually has something to tell you and Morgen. It involves the thing that did this to him." Esmie explains simply, to Arn's relief.

"Really? Well out with it then, what happened?" Death asks.

"A ghost is haunting the ruins Anna brought me to. He was pissed off and has banished Anna from ever going back. But the ruins should have significance to Miss Morgen, and the ghost knight claims he served her. So I figure maybe he'll listen to reason if Morgen talks to him." Arn tells him.

"Was he vengeful?"

"I don't think so. He only bashed me into the ground once, and I.....kinda...was a.....a dick....I deserved it." Arn admits rubbing his neck.

Death facepalms, "What did you do?"

"Charged at him because he provoked me."

He then sighs, "Of course you did."

Morgen inquires of Arn however, "You said he was a knight, correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Pray tell, why banish Anna when it was you who attacked?" Morgen asks calmly.

Anna then timidly steps forward, "I sometimes g-go into an old room there....it has a journal t-t-that I'm guessing is yours.....I'm so sorry for reading it. It just inspired me so much."

Morgen pulls the young girl into a hug as she begins crying, "Easy there my dear. Granted I'd not recommend reading anymore journals. But I do not mind that you read mine. In fact, I'm glad those dismal pages inspired you in some way. Is this really why he's denying further entrance?"

Anna can only nod and sniffles a bit. Causing Morgen to gently stroke her head in a Motherly way. Death can tell by the look in her eye, and on her face, that somebody is getting a stern talking to now.

"You're actually going to talk to that spirit?" Death questions her.

"Yes. For her sake and the sake of others who may go there. The only beings I don't want there, are anyone that would steal from it or cause harm to the place. We're going."

Death sighs to himself, "I suppose I better come with you then. Just in case either his spirit, or someone else's has a vengeful moment."

Morgen nods and lets Death follow her. They come along the path and Death soon begins to feel the agony of many dead beings. Clearly a battle had taken place and he sees just how right he is when he and Morgen reach the fort. Morgen walks around the bodies a bit lost looking as Death starts hearing the voices of those who died in the battle. Course he knows he wouldn't normally hear it unless the area was haunted. He then finally goes over to Morgen as she's examining a body.

"Are you alright?"

"I knew these people...all of them....they fought...and....d-died...for me that day..." Morgen tells him with a crack in her tone.

Death helps her up from the ground before gently holding her, "You don't have to be here Morgen. I'm sure Arn and the girl will understand given your connection to the tragedy here."

"It was MORE than just a tragedy. This was a MASSACRE. All because I was spending more of my time here than at home. Away from HIM." Morgen says with a bit of anger mixed into the sadness.

"You say that as if you believe it's..."

"It WAS MY FAULT!" Morgen shouts at him.

Death remains calm though, knowing full well how overwhelming a haunting can be on someone within it's radius. Mentally, physically, and even emotionally. He gently strokes Morgen's head and tells her, "This wasn't your fault. These men chose to defend you, because you were WORTH saving. Because you ARE worth saving."

Morgen looks up at him in surprise and goes to reply before someone else speaks up, "He is right my lady. I knew the risks, we all did. Even those who survived this horror knew. Only very few of us did. I and those who remain upon these grounds never doubted you. The Reaper speaks true, you are and always were worth saving to all of us."

The two look upon the ghostly knight and Morgen asks him, "Tell me...how long have you remained here? How long has it been since we last spoke....Sir Alphonse?"

"Not yet long enough for you to have forgotten me it seems." Alphonse tells her simply.

"Your voice is as distinct as I recall it to be. As are your manners with guests it seems."

"You're speaking of the boy and girl from earlier?"

"Yes, I am. I can understand you wanting to defend me and any of my things that remain here. But I cannot let you bully or harm people. Especially those under my protection. Besides, the girl Anna doesn't strike me as ill intended. She can keep coming here if she so chooses as I see it. Do I make myself clear on that?" Morgen states authoritatively.

"Transparently your highness. Forgive my transgression, I only meant to keep your secrets as just that, secrets. I remember how important privacy was to you."

Morgen only sighs, "I forgive you, but I will say that I'm at least trying to work on telling people things that need to be said."

"Good. Perhaps you'd like to see what remains here? And take what you were unable to?" Alphonse asks her.

"I suppose I can. Assuming either of us can carry it all."

"As I lived to serve you, I can aid you in this as well my fair lady. No offense to your companion of course." Alphonse states.

"Pardon?" Death questions him.

"I would assume she chose you for companionship given the way you held her a moment ago. Not to mention the way you spoke to her."

"I....uh.....fair enough." Death says awkwardly.

"It seems I'm right to assume then. Given your reaction. Anyway, just this way, and be mindful. The place is old enough to be falling apart because of more than just unrepaired, burnt wood."

"Hmm, well lead on." Death replies with Morgen following alongside him.

Morgen is amazed at how well kept her old room appears aside from a few fallen objects, "How is this room so pristine?"

"A certain....'pest' who keeps coming back. And no I don't speak of the girl."

"There have been other visitors?" Death inquires.

"Yes only a few though. Usually the villagers will leave flowers on occasion to commemorate all we did for them. It's...always a good sight everytime they hold their memorial festival too. So I don't bother the villagers usually. I only got cross with Anna because she was reading your journal and learning secrets of yours. However, there is one man I keep tryng to turn away. He always comes by every few nights hoping I'll miss him. Occasionally he does escape my notice, with some small 'trinket' or two as well."

"That explains why you were so quick to judge Anna. Even so, would I know this person?" Morgen inquires.

"You would. One of your 'suitors' from some years back."

Morgen facepalms next, "I THOUGHT I made it VERY clear as to why I called things off between us."

Death then looks at her shocked, "Wait let me get this straight, you have an ex?"

"Yes. I had hoped he got it through his head though."

"Clearly not if he's sneaking in here and making off with your property." Death expresses with a bit of sarcasm to his tone.

Morgen shakes her head in annoyance before walking out of the room for a moment. Course she hears something that annoys her even more once she's out the door. With her eye twitching, Morgen seeks out the source of the noise. Only to find a cloaked figure coming through a window down the hall.

"Aleyn, what are you doing?"

The figure freezes a bit before turning around slowly, "Morgen? Is that you?"

"Who else would I be Aleyn?"

"I don't know that ghost that hates my guts?"

"Gee I wonder why he would hate you. There a reason you keep coming here to take little things I own?"

"You never came back until now. I suspected you never would after what happened. I had hoped you wouldn't either." Aleyn tells her before freezing again.

"Excuse me?"

"Look Morgen maybe we could talk about it more in a place that isn't haunted by an angry ghost?"

Morgen eyes him suspiciously for a moment, but finally tells him, "Fine. But you're helping bring what's left of my things here to my carriage. And if you say a SINGLE WORD against my current companion, you'll be walking home instead of 'talking privately'."

Aleyn laughed nervously, "Right....heheh...wait you've moved on?"

"I have. What of it?"

"Oh eh...nothing....something to talk about in our private talk later."

Morgen gets suspicious of him all the more but lets him follow her. When he and Death see each other, Death gives a judgmental stare whilst Aleyn gulps.

"Ha-have you come to take his soul?" Aleyn asks nervously pointing at Alphonse.

Alphonse facepalms, "Can I kill him now?"

"No, he's useful for now. Besides I can't afford to make anymore enemies. Having Uther's ire is bad enough." Morgen says.

"So it's true? You ran away from home again? Is it also true that you took Arthur as well?"

Morgen nearly defends herself but Death speaks up, "Her Uncle got her and Arthur out whilst I was rescued by Barrcus. A far better Father to her than Uther ever will be. And given you seem to have sympathy for Uther, does that make me the better man of the two of us?"

"Watch your tongue you son of a whore! You don't know her like I do!"

"Says the man who probably has her underwear tucked away in his bedroom, among other little things of Morgen's. Stalker much?" Death says sarcastically.

"How DARE you? I would NEVER do something so uncouth as to take a woman's undergarments."

"Then what did you take? It had to have been small enough for your shrimpy arms to carry." Death inquires smirking a bit.

Aleyn growls before saying, "That's none of your business."

"Maybe not but it's certainly mine." Morgen tells him firmly.

"Ah....uhhhh....right....well your perfume...some of your make-up that you rarely ever wore....I NEVER WORE IT MYSELF!" Aleyn quickly replies nervously.

"Uh huh. What else?"

"I actually found the wedding dress you would've worn to our wedding and...."

"OK HOLD IT RIGHT THERE! You are NOT about to tell us you do some fucked up role-playing involving that dress are you?" Death asks sounding concerned.

"NO! Now if you DON'T MIND I shall explain. I just keep it around my home as I figure you probably won't want it. Or if you ever did, I'd have it in pristine condition for you." Aleyn admits.

"Aleyn, you've no reason to keep it. Sell it or give it away. I never liked that dress anyway. Uther picked it out and it just....didn't suit me."

"You looked like a goddess in it."

"A goddess about to raped by Zeus himself maybe." Morgen retorts sarcastically.

Death actually laughs and questions them both, "Just what did this dress look like? I must know now. Just to sate my curiosity."

"Are you sure Horseman? I remember that eyesore way too well, personally I'd rather go through my death all over again than see Morgen walk down the aisle with that HORRIBLE 'dress'." Alphonse states firmly.

Morgen reluctantly shows him with her memories and Death laughs even more, "Hahahaha! I didn't think you could refine sexuality.....Hahahahahahahaha! Seriously seeing that dress reminds me of The Great Gatsby!"

Morgen snickers at that, "Come to think of it, I think it was around the twenties when Aleyn and Uther found that dress." She can only laugh as Death nearly hits the floor.

Even Alphonse laughs with them before Aleyn defensively asks Death, "Well then BARBARIAN, what would YOU have her wear? What wedding dress could you see her in?"

"Technically it's bad luck..huff haaaah...to see one's bride before the wedding...huuuuuuh ahhhh...so I can't really imagine it...now can I?" Death says sarcastically as he catches his breath.

"Cut the sarcasm and just answer damn you!"

"Fine then if you insist that much ya creep." Death tells him a bit annoyed before answering, "If I must give an opinion, sure I could see her in a strapless. But honestly a silvery blue would absolutely make her pop with beauty. She's called the Moon Witch is she not, why not make her rival the moon itself on such an occasion? It would definitely give the saying 'I love you to the moon and back' quite the new meaning I'd say."

Morgen's eyes light up at Death's words and she shyly inquires, "So does that mean you...?"

"Yes."

"I didn't even fini..."

"You didn't need to. I've heard similar questions before. Trust me, I know what you were about to ask. You wanted to know if what I said means I find you as beautiful as the moon, if not more so. Am I correct?"

Morgen blushes, "As always, you're perceptive."

"Heheh..It seems I've been lacking in that department with the romance side of things though lately. If anything I say things by accident." Death admits rubbing his neck with a chuckle.

Aleyn only groaned before muttering, "At least I actually tried and KNEW what I was saying."

Death growls briefly in annoyance before saying, "At least I can learn. The question is can you?"

"If you two are quite done measuring each other's dicks, the lady will likely need help removing her things from here." Alphonse told them both in equal annoyance.

He then grabs them both by their heads and tosses them into the room, "There, now they can do it themselves."

"Gladly, once we have a list." Death expresses simply as he gets up.

Morgen comes into the room to make a list onto a crystal. She only grabs one thing from inside the room, a tiny ornate chest. She then hands the crystal to the gentlemen to collect everything. Death naturally tries to be civil about it so they can be quick about it. Only for Aleyn to volunteer to carry everything.

"Look I'm done with the whole being stupid can you just...NOT?! Like please...THINK."

"I'm not doing anything but volunteering my help." Aleyn protests.

"Genius, she gave us an inventory crystal with a list on it, to put the stuff into it. It's really not that complicated. You don't have to do any heavy lifting. You're not impressing..."

"Just SHUSH. I can handle this, I WILL handle this in fact. Now what's the first thing?"

Death sighs shaking his head, "The contents of that chest there. Again you don't have to carry...."

"Shut up damn it! I said I'll handle this."

"Ok, fine. Have fun with that. I'm going to do the practical thing in the meantime. Let me know when you're done being a moron."

"Excuse me young fellow..."

"Y-young? EhEH...ehAH! Your stupidity is obviously showing itself." Death tells him sarcastically yet again.

Aleyn grumbles to himself as he tries lifting the chest, or dragging it. Death meanwhile goes about to room to collect what he can. He starts with a few small things around the room, then moves onto the wardrobe. He collects everything in there with ease whilst using the crystal's magic. Course he does pause a moment to observe her armor set.

"I have to ask...why?" Death inquires of Morgen after coming back out from the wardrobe.

Morgen notices him pointing and comes over to see what it is this time. When realizing it's her old armor she's looks at him with her eye twitching ever so slightly, "And what exactly is wrong with it?"

Death, sensing this probably should've been saved for later cautiously responds with, "I just want to know what was going on while this was being made. It looks fine, but it's....so ornate. It looks like it belongs more in ceremonies than it does on the fields of battle."

"I am a mage more than a swordswoman admittedly."

"STILL. That's....a LOT of detail for a set used in battle. Even for a mage. Usually mages want armor that isn't heavy. I mean look at me, I don't wear heavy plate very often, if ever. I don't even wear chest plates usually. The most armor I have is my kilts, which occasionally come with plate. Either way, the way I fight and cast spells requires that I'm able to move. So I need to accommodate myself by using armor that gives me more mobility. Though I wouldn't recommend not wearing anything up top. I only do so because I can get away with it through my healing ability." Death tells her before chuckling a bit towards the end.

"Bare in mind that ONE I am a Princess, and TWO, that Uther was the among those who wanted to see my design ideas BEFORE it was ever made. You can probably imagine some things got added in."

"Right. Anyway I know a place that makes far better armor for combat and for mages. We'll have to go there later. After all this madness. For now shall I keep letting that one dig his own grave or shall I just put the chest in the crystal?" Death states.

"Please do get it into the crystal. Before he passes out due to lack of oxygen."

"Heh, may be a little late for that. His brain already lacks a little bit of it." Death says laughing a bit before Morgen's slight glare shuts him up. "Oh come on I was just kidding."

#Darksiders Fandom #Darksiders Fanfics #Darksiders OCs #Darksiders Arthurian Tales Revisited #Death

2 notes · View notes

harper-hook · 5 years

Text

Helping Hands

Harper and Harriet

Harriet huffed, bored as her pirate crew filed out of Anthony’s grandma’s place, dispersing to cause havoc for some nearby shops and vendors. The kickback was fun for what it was, dancing and drinking. She preferred to be back on the ship, all the noise was giving her a headache.

Ready for the night to be over, he mentally did a head count of her crew. Her brow furrowed, not spotting Harper anywhere. Her naïve baby sister who she graciously allowed to tag along with her crew tonight. She was probably still inside.

Harriet stepped back through the doors, scanning the crowds. She knew her sister’s crowd. She spotted De Vil’s son, hiding from the Gastons, and Jafar’s son, standing in the corner, lip locked with some blonde. Her eyes narrowed, making a mental note of it.

She didn’t let it show but now she was starting to get worried. Harper didn’t fuck with most people. “Harper! We’re leaving!” She barked, not getting an answer. “Harper!”

Mentally she racked her brain, trying to remember the last place she saw her. Nothing was coming to mind. “Sammy!” Her first mate was at her beckon call. “Harper?” With the shake of his head, she growled and looked around the alleyways.

As per normal of kickbacks, people were crowded in the alleys, making out or shooting up. Just when she hit the last alley, a loud metal clang rang out. “You stupid-” She heard a gruff voice, followed by the sound of skin on skin.

Harriet turned the corner and saw red, spotting a man towering over her baby sister with a bloody nose. “HEY!” She screamed. Before she could finish yelling, a couple of her brew were on top of the man, Sammy jumping in too.

Harriet sneered at the fight in front of her, her gaze softening as she turned to Harper. She pulled her off the ground, snarling at the damage. Harper’s nose was bloody and there were already hickeys on her neck. Her shirt was unbuttoned.

She was none too gentle as she wiped the blood off her face. “Harper, what happened?” She whispered. Harper's gaze was unfocused, still in shock.

Harriet sneered, watching her crew kick the offender around. “C’mon, we’re going back to the ship.” She tugged on Harper’s arm, not letting go this time. At least, not yet.

Harry and Harper

Harper gave another forced smile as the yacht unloaded back at the dock. Mal had just stopped Uma’s plot and the party was carrying on, But Harper didn’t feel like celebrating. She had something to take care of. She just hoped Harriet passed on her message.

Luckily it was just a 5 minute walk through he woods to get back to Auradon Prep. She rolled her eyes as the main door was unlocked but proceeded down the hall. She reached the Remedial Goodness room and strolled in, carelessly slamming the door shut.

She rolled the TV out of the closet and turned it on. She sat on the table and waiting a bit nervously for the picture to clear. She watched as her older brother came into view.

He was sitting in Maleficent’s old castle that looked completely ransacked. Harry himself didn’t look much better, nursing a black eye and bloody lip. “What the fuck happened to you?!” Harper screeched, furious. If it was one of her gang...

“Bar fight. Don’t worry about it.” He waved her off. Harper relaxed but only a little bit. It fell into an awkward silence. “I’m gonna get you out.” She started. “I’ve already talked to Ben and he said he’d work on it.” She grinned.

Harry hummed, looking troubled. Her smile fell. “What’s wrong?” Her mind immediately flew to the worst . “We didn’t... kill someone, did we?” She bit her lip nervously.

Harry’s booming laughter startled her. She pouted, watching him laugh until he started wheezing. “Your lot couldn’t have killed someone with their terrible swords skills. Even you’ve got shoddy.” He grinned.

“Whatever.” Harper snorted, rolling her eyes. “But seriously,” Harry paused. “How long have you and Jafar’s spawn...” Harry gestured vaguely, making her mouth drop open.

“What’s it to you?” She sniffed. “So you’re not gonna deny it?” He looked shocked. “No, I love Jay and he loves me-” She glared as Harry began to fake vomit with over exaggerated gags.

“Are you done?” She asked, crossing her arms. He snickered, finally calming down. “I just don’t think he’s not good enough for you.” He crossed his arms, matching her. “I think he’s good enough.” She retorted. “Fine, be wrong.” Harry snapped.

It got quiet again. “I just want you to be happy. And I don’t want him to hurt you.” Harry admitted. “He won’t hurt me, he’s too scared to.” She laughed. “And I'm very happy. And I'll be even happier when I’ve got the rest of my family with me.”

Harry gave Harper a small smile. “And I’ll be looking forward to that, baby sister. Bt for now, go wreck some havoc.” He grinned maniacally, Harper returning it. She leaned forward and clicked the TV off, just sitting in silence for a few minutes. Looks like she had a lot of work to do.

CJ and Harper

It was a shock when CJ barged through her door at 9AM, demanding that Harper cut her hair. “This couldn’t have waited until later because...” She had asked.

“When I want something, I get it. And I really want my hair cut.” CJ explained excitedly. Harper rasied an eyebrow. CJ sighed. “Ok, so I may have a date with Freddie later-” CJ winced as Harper started jumping up and down, clapping and yelling, “I knew it! I knew it!”

“Shut up!” CJ whined, face red. “And if it fucks up my head, I’ll have time to buy a pretty new hat.” She reasoned. “So you’re doing it.”

Luckily, Harper had a bunch of hair clips that Evie had left to pin up CJ’s hair. She turned on the electric razor that CJ ‘bought’ and turned to the blank slate in front of her.

She got to work, shaving with no real design in mind yet. “So, Freddie? What about Zevon?” She asked. “What about him?” CJ asked, sounding uninterested. “Shit, fair enough.” Harper shrugged, happy to see the little creep gone.

Harper suddenly had a devious idea. “So CJ, remember when we were younger-” “Probably not.” “And you got mad at me and you cut off my hair while I was sleeping.” Harper continued sweetly, feeling CJ stiffen.

“Harper, I swear I’ll beat your ass and I’ll tell Harriet and she'll-” “Calm down!” Harper snapped, giggling. “I’m joking. I don’t have a death wish.”

Harper continued CJ’s undercut, making small talk and laughing about Anthony’s obvious crush on Harriet and Harry’s borderline obsession with Uma. “I just don’t get boys sometimes. They’re so dumb!” CJ groaned. “They make up for being dumb by being cute.” Harper said, a small smile playing at her lips. “Whatever you say.” CJ sighed.

Harper brushed blonde hair off her lap and pulled out a small cracked mirror. “Alright, sis. Take a look.” Harper waited with baited breath. CJ gasped. “Aw, Harper!” Harper was stunned as CJ practically launched herself at her, hugging her around the neck tightly. “It’s amazing!”

Harper hugged her half sister back, spotting the clock on the wall. “Holy shit, it’s already 11!” She announced. “Fuck!” CJ snapped, quickly gathering her stuff and Harper’s red leather coat. “Hope you don’t mind if I borrow this. Bye!” CJ yelled quickly. “Wait!” Harper was cut off by the door slamming.

Harper let out a small laugh, flopping back down on her bed. Hopefully she’d get her coat back in one piece.

#descendants #harry hook #cj hook #harriet hook #harper hook

2 notes · View notes

sidehowriting · 6 years

Text

Princesses and Secret Admirers

Masterlist in bio!

A/N: I was really hoping @loki-the-fox would do a Valentine’s Day Challenge because I had an idea going and look! It’s a Valentine’s Day Challenge! This is the 4th installment of the Princesses series (?) but can function as a stand alone. I’m not going to link the previous parts here because I get more traffic without links. But they can all be found in my masterlist.

Prompt: Who’s it from? Your secret admirer?

Pairings: Dad!Thor x Daughter

Summary: Someone has a crush on Thor’s daughter

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Just cute fluff, over protective Thor and other Avengers

Coming home was always Thor’s favorite part of missions. He missed his wife, his kids, his simple domestic life. Getting home early always a treat. And this time was no exception.

It was just past three-thirty in the afternoon when he got home, a full eight hours ahead of schedule. He crept in as quietly as he could, finding his family gathered in the kitchen.

A chorus of cheers and yelling greeted his ears as his family rushed towards him. He smiled broadly, easily encompassing his wife, son, and daughter into his arms. “I missed you all so much!” He said, giving each family member a kiss. “I’m so happy to be back!”

“I missed you too, Dad!” His daughter said, clinging to his middle.

“We’re so glad you’re back.” His wife placed a sweet kiss to his cheek as she spoke.

His tiny two-year-old son simply jumped up and down at his legs yelling, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

When he had his fill of their family hug, he released them. “I was just making some after school snacks,” his wife said. “I have some cut up apples with peanut butter if that’s alright. Or I can make you whatever you please. Sometime more filling.”

“This is fine, my queen.” He placed his hand on her waist and kissed her cheek again. “Stark fed us well.”

“I’ll slice up another one then,” she said, smiling. “Can you go through Lina’s backpack with her?”

“Of course!” Thor bellowed and joined his daughter at the kitchen table. The backpack in question was already sitting in the middle of the table. Lina was seated, pulling school books out of the pack. Thor sat down next to her. “What do we have?”

He took the stuff she handed him. “I have a worksheet to do for history. And I have two pages of math to do. Will you help me?” She looked up at him, pleadingly. He never did have the willpower to deny her. Her sweet blue eyes always melted his heart.

“Of course, my princess.” He started to sort the books while little Arik started to pull at his leg. Thor lifted his son up, placing him on his lap. “We’ll both help, right, little prince?” Smiling, Thor opened Lina’s folder, flipping through the papers to find her worksheet. “What’s this?” He pulled out a torn piece of paper, intricate creases showing that it was once folded in many ways. In the center of the paper was a note: I liked your hair ribbon. Pink is a good color.

His wife placed a plate of apples and peanut butter on the table next to them. Arik wasted no time in grabbing and apple and munching on it. “Oh, is that a note?” She asked, ruffling the little boy’s hair. “Who’s it from? Your secret admirer?”

“Yeah!” Lina said proudly, grabbing the letter from Thor. “Look at this one!”

Thor watched as Lina passed the note to her mother, utterly confused. “What? What secret admirer?”

“Olina’s been getting notes just about everyday this week. Someone in her class has a crush on her.”

“What?” Thor’s eyes were wide as disks, looking from his daughter to his wife. “No, absolutely not.”

Lina sighed, “It’s okay, Dad. Valentine’s Day is next week.”

“That doesn’t make it better!” Panic was starting to settle in. No, no way. Olina was only seven. There was no way in the nine realms that she had a secret admirer. She was far too young for crushes.

“I hope they’re from Tommy,” Lina said, grabbing an apple and coating it in peanut butter. “He’s the cutest.”

Thor clutched his chest, feeling like he might pass out. “It’s okay,” came his wife’s soothing voice. She placed her hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. “No need to worry. It’s just a school yard crush.”

No matter what his wife said, Thor couldn’t get past that his daughter had a secret admirer. The thought was in the back of his mind as he helped Lina with her homework, helped make dinner, and helped get the kids to bed. He didn’t say anything until he and his wife were preparing for their own slumber.

“I don’t like this,” he said, brushing his golden hair. “She’s far too young.”

“She’s seven, Thor.” His wife sounded tired and borderline annoyed. “That may be young for an Asgardian, but for a human that’s a perfectly normal age to have a crush.”

“She’s half Asgardian!” He countered.

His wife started laughing. “She’s also half human. So far, her aging is on par with humans. If that changes then I will fully support your opinion that she’s too little. Until she slows down, she’s allowed to think some boy in her class is cute.”

Thor continued to grumble and complain about it. Not pleased with how fast his little girl was growing up. Wasn’t it just yesterday she was swaddled tightly, nothing but a tiny face poking out of a blanket as he rocked her to sleep? He did not like this one bit.

“Now,” his wife came to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. His large frame prevented her hands from meeting. “You’ve been away for eight days. I’ve missed you. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be with you.”

Putting the brush down, he smirked. He twisted around and easily lifted her off her feet. She squealed and giggled, grabbing onto his shoulders. He kissed her deeply yet quickly, just giving her a taste of what was to come. “Let me remind you, then.”

Thor volunteered to stay at home the next morning with Arik while his wife took Olina to school. He was formulating a plan on how to deal with this secret admirer and wanted his lovely wife out of the house to do so. Was it a bit sneaky? Sure, but he was just doing his duty as a father.

While Arik was content watching cartoons, Thor pulled out his phone and sent a group text:

Thor: We have a situation

Tony: Something wrong?

Clint: Is everything ok?

Steve: Is your family alright?

Bucky: I can be there in 20 minutes

Thor: Everyones fine. I just found out theres someone at school who was been sneaking Lina love notes.

Sam: Love notes??????

Tony: This is an emergency

Bucky: I’ll be there in 10

Steve: Whos the punk?

Thor: I dont know. Shes been coming home with secret notes everyday from someone. She doesnt know who its from

Tony: Give me the note. I’ll have the handwriting analyzed

Thor: That will take too long. I have another idea

Thor pushed open the door into the house after getting Lina from school. “Mom!” Lina yelled, “we’re back!”

“Remember what I said,” Thor whispered to her before her mother appeared. “Mummy doesn’t need to know.”

“Hello!” His wife walked in with a smile on her face. “How as school?”

“It was great! I got a hundred on the history worksheet Dad helped me with yesterday!” Lina said so proudly, making Thor feel great.

“That’s so wonderful!” Lina’s mother kissed the top of the little girl’s head. Something about her tone and behavior was off and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Why don’t you go wash up and play with Arik for a little bit before snack and homework?”

With no other prompting, Lina raced out of the room, leaving him alone with his wife. Instantly, her posture changed. Her eyes hardened and her hands went right to hips like they do when she scolds the children.

“So, do you want to tell me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, his eyes skirting everywhere to avoid her harsh gaze. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Nope. No idea.” He swayed from foot to foot gently, trying to act natural.

“Really?” She whipped out her cell phone. “This is the text I got from Lina’s teacher. ‘I see Thor is back. He showed up to pick Lina up. He had the whole Avenger’s crew with him, all ready for battle. It seemed a bit odd but he had Lina’s pick up pass so we let her go. It was strange so I wanted to send you a text just to let you know.’”

He mentally cursed himself. He thought as long as he had the pass saying he was there to pick up Olina that everything would go smoothly.

“Not to mention,” his wife continued, her voice starting to rise. “The texts I was getting from some of the other parents. So, I’m going to ask again. Why were you, Anthony, Clinton, Steven, James, and Samuel all picking Olina up from school? All wearing your battle gear?”

She was addressing everyone by their full names. She was not happy.

“I can explain,” he started, trying to think of something that wouldn’t make his wife explode at him.

“If you’re about to tell me that you did that to try and intimidate whatever poor little boy that likes Lina you are sleeping on the couch for the next week.”

“Well-“

“Thor Odinson! I cannot believe you!” He was in deep trouble now. “She’s a child, Thor! It’s just a little crush! And then to get practically the whole team involved in this?”

“My darling,” he pleaded, rushing to her side. “The others…well they should know what’s going on in Olina’s life, right? They just wanted to help.”

“Uh, huh.” She walked away from him. “Is there a reason Natasha and Bruce weren’t there as well? Could it be because they’re the only rational ones out of the group? They would have told you just how stupid you were being?”

That was exactly why they were not part of his group chat, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her. “My queen. My beautiful beautiful queen. I just wanted to-“

“What? Intimidate a child?” When she said it like that, it did sound rather extreme. “Thor...” Her voice finally dropped. She just sounded tired now.

“I’m sorry.” He grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing her palm. “I didn’t mean to make you so upset, my queen.” He kissed her palm again and she started to relax and melt. “Truly.” He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “Just the thought of Olina growing up so quickly… I miss her being small.”

She responded by wrapping her own arms around his neck, kissing his cheek tenderly. “I know. I do too. I miss those days so much. But she’s growing up and we can’t stop that. She’s going to grow up and there’s going to be lots of boys and girls that have crushes on her. Same with Arik. That’s how life works.”

She had a point that he was reluctant to admit. Instead, he just rested his cheek against the top of her head. He loved his wife so much. He was so thankful to have her. She made him a better man, husband, father. “I don’t know what I would do without you, my queen,” he whispered to her. “You are right as always. I acted irrationally and I am sorry. But Lina did like being picked up by all of us. She was very happy and surprised.”

“Be that as it may, you still caused a scene. The whole lot of you did.” She pulled away to meet his eyes. “I know you all love her and are protective of her, but this is not the way to go about it. Promise me that if you’re concerned about something, you’ll come talk to me about it first before you assemble the Avengers?”

“I promise,” he said and kissed her. He enjoyed this soft, simple moment with her. Holding her hips and kissing her with all the love he could muster. What he wouldn’t do for her and his family.

She was the one to slowly pull away, her lips a bit rosy. She smiled, and gently traced her fingers around his cheek. “I love you. And you’re still sleeping on the couch.”

Tags: @lancsnerd @xxloki81xx @dsakita

#riversdayoflove #dad!thor #dad!thor x daughter #thor fluff #thorsdottir #thor x reader

151 notes · View notes

ceruleanchillin · 6 years

Text

Fitting

Modern Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Note - I just went to a word generator and took random words to use for plot ideas. It switches from the Reader to Arthur’s POV by segment (in case you get/got confused).

Annnnd, hooray for technologically illiterate, and borderline luddite, Arty.

Finally, I need to apologize to all the mobile users. It’s gotta be HELL scrolling past my shit in the tag ugh, I wish keep reading worked on mobile.😩

1. Rain

Arthur didn’t used to be too fond of the rain. It made travel hell on earth. If you were in a cold place, you froze. Hot place? It made you feel sticky, and teased you about feeling cooler. He didn’t understand why people were so in love with it. That was until he found a home.

The gang had worked long and hard to set themselves free from their former lives. Freedom looked like a sprawling, luxury ranch resort, staffed by former criminals. It amazed him that people were willing to pay big bucks to vacation the way he’d lived the majority of his life for free, but they were. He couldn’t knock the weirdness too much, because it allowed him to meet you, and gave him a place for a new start with you.

So he got it now. Why people enjoyed the rain so much. Sitting on a cozy living room’s window seat of the ground’s main house, your back to his as you dozed lightly, the rain painting the window next to you. He understood.

He looked down at you, and couldn’t stop what he’d been told was a “goofy” grin from spreading across his lips. You looked stunning, long lashes touching your cheek and lips pouting in dream concentration.

Absentmindedly, he ran his thumb across your cheek in soft swipes, enjoying the moment. He’d have to remember to draw this later.

You shifted lightly, paused to realize he’d been studying you, yawned cutely, and narrowed your eyes. “You watching me sleep Morgan?”

“Yes ma’am, you’re goddamn beautiful.”

“Translation, ‘I wanna fuck you on these new cushions-”

He quickly silenced you with a kiss, one that quickly devolved into laughter from both of you.

Yeah, Arthur Morgan could appreciate the rain. He would go so far as to say he downright loved it.

2. Bedroom

When people asked what you missed the most on your travels, it now came down to two answers. Arthur, and your bedroom.

The first one wasn’t surprising. In your five months working for the gang’s resort, you and Arthur had grown inseparable. The two of you let instinct and feeling be your guide, and it hadn’t disappointed you yet.

The second one was a bit more strange for most people. Being settled for most of their lives left them taking personal space, such as a bedroom, for granted. Residing with your new family had been the closest thing to settled you’d ever been. You found out it was pretty much the same for them, and Arthur shared your appreciation for a space away from constant prying eyes.

You burrowed your cheek into the pillow, trying to appreciate your bed and the sunrise at once. For the next three-and-a-half weeks, you would be in Australia, and would miss seeing the sunrise this way.

A warm arm came over your side, and you relaxed into the body attached to it. Arthur buried his face in your hair, his hold tightening when he breathed in.

“Your plane doesn’t leave til’ twelve, you trying to get away from me already?” he was teasing you, but you could still hear a slight edge to his tone. He respected your love of travel, but he missed you terribly when you were away from him.

You laced your fingers with his, and gave a tight squeeze. “Don’t even try it, you know I cry on the plane every time now. I didn’t do that before you.”

“I am both delighted and upset to hear that.” his voice was still colored by sleep, and somehow managed to hold a rougher tone to it.

“I suspect more of the former than the latter.”

He chuckled and moved his lips from his hair to your cheek. You hummed and sunk further into his warmth, allowing him to claim more of your skin with his kisses. The comfort of the bed, the warmth of Arthur, and the softness of his kisses, started to make you dizzy in the best way. Who knew Arthur Morgan was king at cuddling?

He pulled you under him, lips now on your own.

“I have to get ready, I told Mary-Beth I’d help her with giftshop duty before I leave.” very few of your words managed to surface between kisses, but you knew he’d heard you.

“Mary-Beth ain’t stealing my last few hours with you.” his reply was rough in tone, his next kiss firm to back up his point.

You felt your body abuzz with adoration for the man and his cute declaration. He was pouring how much he’d miss you into his actions. He wouldn’t outright declare he’d miss you, but he would show you.

Your hands danced across his back in gentle motions. “I’m going to miss you too Arthur.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. His gaze said a lot, and his follow up kiss said whatever it left out.

When he pulled away, he touched his forehead to yours, eyes closed. You recognized his expression as one that said he wanted to tell you something, so you waited.

“I was thinking, you might be able to come home to find your bedroom in mine.”

It took you a moment, but you realized what he meant when the poor man’s expression got panicked. He wanted you to move in with him.

“I’m thinking I might like that.”

A look of relief crossed his handsome features, before he ducked his head by your ear. “I’m thinking you might like something else to.”

3. Dizzy

The most important moment of Arthur Morgan’s life came at 4:45 AM on a Saturday.

He hadn’t been expecting anything beyond seeing you for the first time in weeks. That’s all he needed to be honest. He hadn’t seen hide nor tail of you, with the exception of a frustrating FaceTime (was that what you called it?) that everyone felt they needed to be a part of, in two weeks.

Every other moment of communication boiled down to phone calls, and confusing texts (goddamn, why couldn’t you let him keep his flip phone?!).

Arthur was a simple man, and he liked his communication the same way. Nothing was more simple than talking to you face to face. He could hold you, see your face clearly, and not make a complete fool of himself for lacking poetic graces.

So when he got a call from you, asking him to pick you up from the airport a week ahead of schedule, he nearly ran out of the house in his underwear.

The bustling airport pickup wasn’t the best place to play catch up, so the two of you followed what was tradition at this point. A tight hug, and then a comfortably silent ride to your favorite diner. There you would share a million questions and a million kisses, until your food was cold, and the sun was unbelievably hot through the window.

“I can’t imagine what’s back here in Texas that’d make you leave those Australian fellers behind.”

You flashed him a tired smile from across the both. Knees drawn up to your chin, hair messily piled on top of your head, and swathed in a colorful t-shirt, Arthur would bet money you were the most gorgeous thing on earth.

“I have a pretty good answer I think.” you carefully raised your hot mug of peppermint tea to your lips.

“Yeah? They wouldn’t wake up at the break of dawn and kill spiders for you?” he chuckled, raising his own mug of coffee.

You shook your head, and when you lowered your mug he saw you were smirking. “None of them got me pregnant.”

The coffee went down the wrong way, and aspiration kicked in. He spluttered, a hand coming up to grip the table. You leapt up, and circled the table to slide into his booth.

“Are you ok?!” your voice was wrought with concern as you thumped his back. “I hoped you’d have a funny reaction, but I wasn’t trying to kill you!”

He sucked in a mouthful of air, a burning pain snaking through his chest. “You pranking me? Like in those stupid videos you and Mary-Beth watch? I don’t wanna end up on that dumb video site.”

“Wow,” you gave that funny little ( loud ) laugh of yours, and threw your arms around his neck. “I expected a lot of reactions from you, but not that one. No, I’m serious.”

He sighed, and ran a hand over his chin. He was sure all color had drained from his face, if the faint dizzy feeling was anything to go by. He could you hear you calling his name, but his mind just kept wanting him to hear the word “pregnant”.

Your hands uncoiled from around his neck. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t say you got me pregnant either.”

He shot you a withering side glare at your joke. “No, I don’t believe it does.”

He could feel you staring at his profile, but he was too busy staring at his mug instead.

“Well...I need some kind of response big guy. I mean what do you think?” you placed your hands on the table, fingers pressing into each other. “Are you...mad?”

He could hear you were unsure, a sound that was foreign for you. Mad? He found it hard to get mad with you as it was, and this certainly wouldn’t have been a valid case for it.

“You know me better than that, of course I ain’t mad….just a lot of other things I guess.” he exhaled and turned to face you. “You certainly seem relaxed enough for the both of us.”

You grinned and shrugged, and he wondered why he had ever expected a typical reaction from you.

“I had two whole days, and a long ass flight to think it over. I’m not scared Arthur, I’m ok with this.” your voice was firm this time, steady. “It’s like a new adventure, you know me and adventure.”

He snorted. “Catnip.”

“I’m as settled as I’m ever gonna get, I’m fine with it, I can still explore the world in the future. But...I need to know where you stand.”

He felt your gaze on him again, and repeated your words in his head. Pregnant. The best thing he’d ever come across in his life, and he’s quite possibly ruined yours. You were a beautiful young woman who, while well traveled and experienced, still had so much to offer the world. Had he stolen that away from you?

He saw your hand tremble slightly, and took it into his much larger one. For a second, he just stared at it, before enclosing it in his. “My lady I stand with you. I just want you to know what you’re tying yourself to is all.”

He could sense you wanted to stop him. You didn’t like when it seemed like he was going to “put himself down”. Being honest is what he called it.

“You know about my past.” he exhaled and continued when he felt you squeeze his hand. “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig that’s committed too many atrocities to name. I don’t rightly know what kind of business I have being near a child for too long, let alone raising one of my own, but I would never leave you. You know that.”

“I do.” you squeezed his hand again, longer this time.

“So, if you wanted to do the leaving...If you wanted to give this child something different than me...or do something..else for yourself. I wouldn’t fight you.”

“I want to stay with you.” your arms returned around his neck. “Fight me about that.”

“I should.” he drawled, leaning into the warm lips you’d placed on his cheek.

“But you won’t.”

He faced you fully, finally, hand coming up to cradle your jaw. “No, I won’t.”

Goddamn he’d made yet another mess, but when he saw your face light up as you started talking about the future, he couldn’t be too angry with himself this time.

4. Coffee

Waking up before everyone else, to get the house kitchen for yourself, always made losing that extra bit of sleep worth it. You loved finally having a family, but the quiet moments were nice too. No bickering, it wasn’t quite time to worry about what the guests wanted (not that you had to worry about that again for a while), and you could just exhale and take your time.

It was also a great time for coffee, though you had tried to scale back with the pregnancy. Decaf coffee may not have given you the buzz of caffeinated coffee, but it still helped with the craving. Maybe Charles was right, and you were a slave to the bean….

You chortled into your mug at the thought.

“That mug funnier than me?”

You laughed again, extending your foot to slide out the chair across from you. “Arthur Morgan I bet you’re jealous of my pillow for getting to touch my hair all night.”

He took the offered seat, and sleepily ran his hands through his hair. “Probably, I do like that shampoo you use.”

You rolled your eyes, and brought your mug up to your amused grin. A comfortable silence settled between you two, as the morning’s first light began to shine through the giant picture window.

Arthur was the first to break it. “Are you sleeping ok? I know you usually get up early, but it was dark out. If you aren’t sleeping, we should probably tell th-”

“I’m fine mother hen, god you’ve been adorable through this.” you beamed at your protective man, who was currently blushing and ducking under your gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. It ain’t as noble as all that. I’m just trying to save myself the ‘this is your fault’ speech when the time comes.”

You sat down your empty mug and gave him a pitying look. “Aww. No baby, that’s still happening regardless. Sorry.”

“Can’t blame a feller for giving it his best.” he looked out of the window for a while, his gaze darting across the scenery, before clearing his throat. “Look here (Y/N). I’ve been sitting on this thing for a while.”

He reached into the pocket of his pajama pants, and you tensed up. It didn’t take a genius to gather what the moment’s energy was telling you. Sure enough, he produced a ring, revealing your instinct to be right. You gasped, though it came out somewhat choked, but didn’t speak.

“Now it’s not because you’re pregnant, Abigail said you wouldn’t like that to be the reason, and it’s not. I was planning on asking when you got back from Australia-”

“Yes!” you screamed the word that had been looping in your mind since you saw the ring.

“Ssh.” he half-laughed half-shushed you. “You want everybody in here? Nosey enough on their own, make em’ work for it at least.”

“I don’t care who hears.” you lightly stamped your feet on the tile floor.

He laughed again, blue eyes shining with confidence now that rejection was off the table. This poor sweet man thought you’d reject him, even after all you’d been through and had yet to go through. Not a chance.

“Well then.” he kneeled on the tile floor you knew to be freezing, and held up the ring. “Miss (Y/N) (L/N), I would very much appreciate if you would be an old fool’s wife.”

You pulled him to you by his shirt, and threw your arms around him. “Yes, but I don’t know any, so you’ll have to do instead.”

You two shared a solid embrace, Arthur ever careful of your growing stomach, and you nearly choking the life out of him. He took your hand is his, and you could feel his trembling. He slid the ring on your finger and just stared at it as if he couldn’t believe it. Maybe he couldn’t, you were sure his self-doubts were telling him it was all a lie. You kissed his forehead, hoping if he was having any such thoughts, they would perish. His hands came up to lay gently on the just-noticeable bump of your stomach.

“I swear to you, I will do my best to make you two very happy, and keep you safe.”

You just kissed him instead of responding with words. You didn’t have to. You knew he loved you deeply, and would do his best to keep his word. He was a big part of what you called home, and you couldn’t think of any place safer.

End Note - I took so much longer than I wanted with this. I just kept deleting and going back and forth. I hope it’s ok.I’m gonna be posting a HC for this AU, and then posting something for Hosea after that.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr 2 #RDR 2 x Reader #Arthur Morgan x Reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 x reader #reader insert #AU #reader

272 notes · View notes

tenecity · 6 years

Text

from haters to lovers; zhu zhengting

from haters to lovers—a series where nine percent and you have the cliche, typical love story

warning: mentions of gender discrimnation

sosososososososo after much procrastination, crying and cracking my head, i finally got someth to possibly hate abt zzt hell yes god

also! taking into consideration tt china is still a v much conservative society, gender discrimnation is everywhere and rlly, as of yet, cant b helped

so which is why, imagine ure a chinese woman you found it weird, almost distasteful that a boy would be in yr dance class

i mean, guys are suppose to be strong people, doing more physical stuff like wushu or smth, and then there’s this boy here, doing pointe and perfect turns

“zhu zhengting is here!!!! oml doesn’t he look like a fairy?” your best friend tugs your sleeve as she discreetly point to the said boy. you roll your eyes. youre tired of this whole rave about him. literally, the entire class fangirls abt him; and apparently, it is not just for his looks, for also for his dance

spsjssjnsnsbs hE IS SO ELEGANT

you wld nvr admit it, but ok i guess ure borderline jealous.

i mean, his lines r clean, force controlled in his movements, perfect timing for rushed movements and then he slows down with such grace that you will never have

but its still irks you, that a boy should dance so softly and gracefully. doesn’t seem to sit well with your traditional thinking

so anyway, sidenote! you suck at turns wowww so coincidental

and every lesson, you usually would stay back just to practice it and you always end up with bruises and what nots as you fall repeatedly, no one there to catch you when you fall

somehow, zhengting stays back today as well, rehearsing his main role in the upcoming performance, “swan lake”

and you can’t keep your eyes off his figure

it is mesmerising, how he can convey emotions, feelings, an entire story, through mere movements of the arms and legs. you observe how his every move is calculated, strength justttt the right amount that it looks elegant instead of overly powerful.

and then you stare at the mirror and you sigh. probably why you only got a minor role in the performance.

shaking your head, trying to push all those nonsensical thoughts out of your brain, you continue trying to turn, but you just can’t find the balance

yixing: balance baLanCe bALANCE

once again, your arms aren’t fully stretched out and it creates an imbalance, causing you to once again, fall backwards, out of turn

you shut your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact

but it doesn’t come

surprise surprise

eyelids fluttering open slowly, you realise just how close your are to zhengting, his ragged breath from his exhausting rehearsal fan across your face, inevitably making them the colour of cherries.

“you ok?” he softly asks, as he lowers you down.

“...yea im fine.” you mumble, head bowed.

“....do you need help with the turns?”

“....”

“you know, you’re almost there. its just the part at the 180 degree mark, where you have to pull in your hands. your arms don’t always cross, or are pulled in too fast, which breaks your flow and speed and causes you to fall out of turn.”

how does he know? bc he has been looking at you, dumbass

also i hve no idea how accurate this is i suck at body anatomy

you nod slowly. he makes sense. and its true, you always fall when you are just about to spin to the opposite side.

getting up, your arms are poised, ready to try again.

andddd they become frigid as hands land on your middle, firm and supportive.

“look, its not even straight here. you need it to be 90 degrees here, before you can even start turning.” he adjusts you accordingly.

“im going to spin you slowly, and we try to perfect each section, ok?”

he spins you slowly, your arms closing in in slow motion. he corrects you at certain parts, one hand leaving your waist as he repositions yr arm.

and now, ure facing him, head bowed as a flush colours your cheeks when u realise how close the two of u r. a slight movement will just allow yr lips to brush against his.

but of course his hand is steady as hell and he just turns you slowly and you face the other direction

which, makes ur stomach churn and disappointment flows thru u????

so skipskip next scene

its after class and ure packing up when u hear some commotion at the corridor

n u follow ur busybody classmates

u can barely see who is shouting bc u a cute shortie :)

but u recognise the voice

"NO i'm staying dad. this is what i want to do."

"No, no, no. teacher, im v sorry, but i will like to pull my son out of this dance class now. i will pay the rest of the fees, but he will not be performing that stupid recital-”

“i am performing, dad.” the voice is calm and collected and you try to tiptoe, just barely catching sight of the brown locks

“no u r not. zhu zhengting, u r a boy, u cannot do this kind of girly things! it makes u look v 娘* do you know that? a disgrace, an utter disgrace!”

the voice rings as everyone falls silent, heads turning towards zhengting, waiting for his response to the harsh comment.

“i will prove to you that there is nothing to be ashamed of.” he quietly says, bowing and turning his heel, head held high, with no sign of regret or disappointment

as you watch the figure go, everything falls together like pieces of a puzzle

why he works so hard

why when it already seems perfect enuf, he still practices, saying there is still space for improvement

why he was so desperate to get the main role

he wanted to b in the spotlight and give a flawless performance bc he wanted to prove to his father, that boys dont have to b restrained to a singular activity and stereotype. they can do whatever they want, so long as they like it

guilt washes over u as u watch his father storm after his son, realising that this man is a reflection of you

new found respect is the word u will use on zhengting.

everyone applauds him. an art form shld never be restricted to a gender.

ur heart opens up to him more, and admiration for him blooms as u watch him place high expectations on himself, doing a particular move over and over again, even tho in your eyes, it alr seems perfect enuf

just like how he is to you; perfect and flawless

its addicting to watch him. his pale arms, his clean movements, his strong legs, his silky brown locks, the way his eyes sparkle when he talks about dance, the way the edges crinkle when he laughs, the way he is so bubbly about everything.

and he starts to take notice of you too, helping you to readjust properly, telling you tricks and tips on how to keep perfect balance, how to put the correct about of strength into a movement.

for the next few weeks, you end up gg hme later than usual, staying bck with more than an hour just to spend time with him, and not gg to lie, you r falling for him

but... you kinda don’t rlly knw i mean

he’s nice to everyone

what makes you so special?

anywayyyyyyy

FINALLY RECITAL DAY WOOHOO

everyone’s pretty hyped about it

but u knw the main dancers will be extremely nervous and u decide to go find zhengting in his dressing room, just to give him assurance, if he needs any.

“zhengting?”

“hmmm?” he says (???) as he turns around and oMLORD JESUS CHRIST IS HE A BEAUT

the eyeshadow makes him look sultry, the foundation emphasising how his skin is flawless and hydrated, his eyebrows strong and dark, a true prince indeed

he snaps his fingers, pulling u out of yr trance. “did you want to say anything?” u hear a hint of hope and u almost smirk

“uh...you look good? and good luck.” you mumble, tripping over your words, unused to a god-like creature looking at u with such intensity in his dark eyes

“what did you say?” he teases, cheekiness flowing through his words

“i said,” you clear your throat. “you look good and good luck for your performance

how you wish to wipe that smirk off that face, if not for the fact that u secretly find it EXTREMELY HOT and your cheeks are flaring red at the sight of it.

“if u want to wish me good luck,” he leans forward. flirtatious. “how about a kiss on the cheek?”

you roll your eyes and try to push him away but he is quick to grab your hands and stop them midway, intertwining your cold, clammy ones with his own.

“please?”

“fine,” you try to sound nonchalant but the nervousness is so evident that u see the smirk creeping up his face again.

lips barely brush over the smooth skin and you pull away, blood surging upwards into the blood vessels of your face.

“bye,” you want nothing more than to dig a hole and hide your burning face

“see you afterwards?”

but u’ve already rushed out and he chuckles to himself, warmth oozing thru his being, and his cheeks flush as he thinks about the kiss you give him.

he will definitely have to find you later to give you a proper one ;)

you guys wld b cute buBS UWU

my endings suck dbhasdjbfhjdbkjf

#i gave up on the three parts #i just let this flow

21 notes · View notes

blu-b · 7 years

Text

Cornish funny farm, a review (Poldark S3 E8)

I usually don’t do this kind of comment / summary, but after today’s episode let me chime in with a few things….

Behind a cut, for reasons.

Ross & Elizabeth 3.0: Oh finally, those two get to talk in private, and like adults. Yay! Now everything will be rectified…right? Right?

Ooooh far from it! They talk and talk and…. never come to the actual point?? Elizabeth hints at Valentine’s parentage, Ross asks if he’s his, Elizabeth says she doesn’t know - cue a brief hysterical fit where Ross accuses her of not wanting to tell (to what point and purpose should she?? Also Ross, mate, if you have any basic knowledge of how reproduction works, you’d know that this is not an exact science, at least not in your times), Elizabeth once again defending herself for something that is not her fault, Ross wanting to know what exactly George suspects…and the conversation starts all over again. Hello?? Get to the fucking POINT, people!

OK Ross basically apologizing for what he did was VERY relieving, as was seeing that they still have some sort of fondness for each other, albeit a sad one; but what was that bullshit about “never injure the woman I loved” - remember you kicked in her door and broke into her bedroom? Also, I’m not a fan of his borderline aggression when he says “You WON’T tell!”…too many bad memories of that one night™ .

And then, the weirdest and wildest thing ever: So the only way to save her marriage to George is by “giving him another child” and make it look like it’s premature as well. “When there’s some confusion about the date…” Yes Ross, really, are you happy to help out again?

ARE YOU KIDDING ME, DEBBIE H.?? What’s this bumfuckery?? Why is Ross suggesting such a thing to her?? I can’t believe it…I was literally yelling at the TV like: “Ross…..Roooooss…..no, you didn’t..ROSSSSS ROOOOSSS NOO ROSS!!” What in fuck’s name did I just witness???? This can’t be serious. I’m still speechless.

Also, Ross, your many “all in good friendship” kisses to Elizabeth’s face are cute, but did you check if she really wants that? No? Ah, I’m smelling a pattern here.

And, what’s all that guesswork about who told George of their night together?

R: Have you never hinted to him….? E: How could I?? But maybe you said something to him….? R: Asjsalmnkbjamff!!! E: Oh, but who could have told him? Hmmmmm. Who else was in the house….. ………… ……….. ……….. Both, looking ominously out to the graveyard: ………………..could it be? Agatha….?

I mean, how stupid is that? Agatha basically told Elizabeth on her dying bed (stool) that she had spilled the beans to George, so…..dafuq?

I liked what they did with Ross “confessing” his feelings to Demelza, it explains a lot about his later actions and why he’s trying to hard to stick to his promise. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t say it in the end - of course he should, but for his character development it’s not important whether he says it out loud or just in his head; the main thing is that he has reached that conclusion and is coming to terms with his own feelings that were so unclear to him not too long ago. I really like season 3 Ross so far with the exception of the above examples, so yeah…there’s still hope.

Insert obligatory timeline glitch: “And for the first time in years, we talked. ” - Ross meaning Elizabeth. Ummm. Years? Valentine is like what, 2 years old? And there was that incident with the horses at the cliffs, he spoke to Elizabeth there, albeit briefly, but he did speak to her. “For the first time in years” makes it sound like they haven’t talked for a decade. Meanwhile, Jeremy Poldark has aged one day.

So, back to the talk. So the plan is to seduce poor George every day so that no one can tell exactly when a possible new baby was conceived? Very clever. Good luck with that.

Speaking of George….and ok yeah I’m biased here, but still….my poor precious darling boy! :’( The small victory of the election is tarnished by his family affairs. He so wants to believe little Valentine is his, but he just can’t get over old Agatha’s cruel words. Played to perfection by Jack, the internal struggles of a man who doesn’t know if he’s being lied to by the woman he loves, or has just been led on by an old woman’s spite. I liked to see that his nervous little habits increase, and it’s also quite telling in this context that it’s George who first loses his nerve in the dispute with Ross, not the other way round as usual (note to self: I do love when George results to cursing, shouting, or a threatening purr ^^). And that image of him sitting alone in his carriage almost broke my heart :-(

What was stupid though was that they put the confrontation in after Ross spoke to Elizabeth. He knows that George is suspicious of her and of Valentine’s parentage, and still he says something stupid like “…and so is her son!” - meaning Geoffrey Charles, of course, but it’s just such a cheap and obvious way of creating suspense. George very obviously and understandably thinks Ross is - in anger - referring to Valentine, and how can he not think that? Ross of course doesn’t say it with that intention, but it’s just stupid because he usually either says “Francis’ son” (because that’s what makes GC a Poldark in the first place), or simply “Geoffrey Charles”, not “Elizabeth’s son”. It would have made A LOT more sense to put this BEFORE the conversation with Elizabeth, so that Ross actually realizes that he has said something incredibly stupid to George and put Elizabeth under even more suspicion. The way it is, it’s just another cheap “Poldark vs. Warleggan” moment.

Then, Demelza. I almost felt sorry for her when yet another man tells her “You’re not perfect, but I’m not looking for perfection anyway…” - like seriously? Is Hugh actually getting her with the same superficial crap that Ross told her? Ugh. Don’t get me wrong, Hugh is cute and I like him, but I’m not sure I like / understand the way his attraction to her is portrayed. It’s all a bit too obvious and too much and…well, yeah. I don’t really care enough to delve deeper into it.

Morwenna’s storyline is finally getting a bit interesting, after endless hours of her looking at Drake like a moon calf and swooning over some flowers and standing at the window looking longingly out to…whatever. Worse that what they did to Elizabeth in s2, imho. She still doesn’t do much but sit there and suffer, but this time I’ve actually shed a tear for her because I’m finally beginning to feel a bit more for this character than just “ugh…!”.

Also, I get that Osborne is a horrible man that we shouldn’t come to like, but I’ve got to admit that he does have some comical moments, and especially perfect timing, so kudos to Christian Brassington for this portrayal.

Also, I kind of like Rowella. I wasn’t too into any of the “young generation” and I still don’t care a damn for Sam Carne and his what’s-her-face, and neither for Drake for that matter, but the way Rowella plays the fat vicar’s vices is kind of entertaining (and makes one wonder why her sister never thought of similar tricks, but she was possibly too busy looking out the window…).

Final conclusion: Almost every marriage in Cornwall is beyond botched.

One ray of light though, Dwight. Dwight is always right. Hahaha, I loved how he stuck it to fat Ossie ^^ But in general, he and Caroline don’t get nearly enough screen time in this season.

Elizabeth was again reduced to little else but holding Valentine and looking ominous, but I did love how in two scenes she got to actually decide something for herself, and how she takes on responsibility, not only of Morwenna, but in general. She seems more like the lady of the house now and issues commands, and she’s not afraid to use the differences in their rank to put Osborne into his place. Well done, lovely lady! *applauds* Also, I like how her feelings for George seem to have developed into something more than convenience.

Finally though, Ross and Demelza. Oh my. What a clusterfuck of bullshit. It all boils down to:

“My heart will always and forever belong to you…but, actually, trying out another man for a day would be kinda cool, and once I did that I’ll happily return to you and go on as if nothing happened, also btw you cheated on me so you are morally obliged to grant me this favour."

Wow. Kudos to Ross for his self-control and his patience with her. I’m not getting into the discussion whether cheating out of revenge is okay or not, and neither into any other for that matter, and while I admit that Ross has some horrible flaws and did abysmal things in the past, he’s trying so hard this season, especially with Demelza. That he makes a few remarks the like of “Not every man in Cornwall is in love with you” doesn’t really come as a surprise after the Fucky McMustache episode, but all in all and given that it’s Ross we’re speaking of, he’s basically snuggly as a kitten. Whereas my understanding for Demelza shrinks with every episode since season 2 tbh. OK so he doesn’t write her poems, so what? He doesn’t care what dress colour she wears, so what? She could be stuck in a FAR worse marriage with a far worse man (think Osborne), and also some of her antics are really rather pointless and just feel like random bitching because she doesn’t get what she wants (a large part of which seems to be the “ploughing” of a certain “field” if I’m reading this correctly; at least that seems to be what the script is hinting at).

Don’t get me wrong, I understand that they’re working through a difficult time in their marriage, and both of them are not easy persons, but - citing the books - all of this is about eventually understanding that there’s more to love and marriage than what convention teaches us and that in order to understand a partner and truly love them, you need to let go of them sometimes. And there would have been so many more ways to bring that across in film, instead of having Demelza be randomly angry with Ross and paying him back by cheating with the next best man who babbles romantic nonsense at her.

This was one of the more powerful episodes in s3, and still the overall feeling I’m left with is one of being sorry for all the persons who’d deserve more happiness than what they’re currently getting: Elizabeth & George, Morwenna & Drake, and Ross….

Oohooo and edit: No Ross, Elizabeth is actually not "the only person" who can do something about this spiderweb of lies you're both entangled in (especially not by telling another lie!). YOU could walk up to George and tell him face to face that Elizabeth is innocent, that you slept with his fiancée against her will and that you're sorry for what you did, and if Valentine should turn out to come after you, that you'll help support the child (even though George and Elizabeth surely don't need the money). That would come very close to a suicide mission, but it would be honest for once and you'd not be using Elizabeth to cover up your own mistakes.

#poldark spoilers #spoilers #poldark season 3 #not tagging this with poldark or character names because i don't wanna be sucked into fandom bullshit #my review #basically a rant #this is me just blurting out my first impressions #I need to see this again in order to appreciate it

5 notes · View notes

hellooogaynow · 7 years

Note

1-100

omg ok tbh i forgot that i reblogged that ask thing but thank u fren here u go

1. spotify, soundcloud, or pandora?

spotify

2. is your room messy or clean?

um ok so my room at my mom’s is technically the office and just full of mine and everyone else’s storage so it isn’t really my room i guess and my room at my dad’s is nearly empty and i haven’t been there more than a couple times in a while and i’ve been crashing at friend’s and family’s houses and living out of a suitcase for weeks so i’m just gonna say i don’t really have a room

3. what color are your eyes?

dark brown

4. do you like your name? why?

alright well this is complicated because i hate the name emily and lately i’ve been going by emmitt for a while and it’s just weird because i feel so disconnected from emily and not super connected to emmitt either and i feel like i should just be a nameless person because i hate being referred to as anything tbh

5. what is your relationship status?

happily in a relationship with someone i really care about

6. describe your personality in 3 words or less

a detached mess

7. what color hair do you have?

my natural dark brown color

8. what kind of car do you drive? color?

ah it’s a purple mini van that’s rusting and dying

9. where do you shop?

target lol

10. how would you describe your style?

almost exclusively button ups and baseball shirts

11. favorite social media account?

tumblr probably i use this the most out of all of them

12. what size bed do you have?

queen

13. any siblings?

i have 2 sisters

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

i honestly have no idea how to answer this question i don’t have a dream destination or anything

15. favorite snapchat filter?

omg probably the cute cat one that changes ur voice cuz my friends look so cute when they use it

16. favorite makeup brand(s)?

i don’t know anything about makeup

17. how many times a week do you shower?

every day sometimes multiple times a day

18. favorite tv show?

buffy the vampire slayer and dollhouse kill me

19. shoe size?

idk i’m pretty sure i’m a 6

20. how tall are you?

5’1

21. sandals or sneakers?

sneakers

22. do you go to the gym?

no lol but i do plan to start going once i actually move in to my new place and get settled

23. describe your dream date

i want to spend a day in chicago with emily doing whatever we want just walking and wandering into stores and go to a zoo or a museum or navy pier or honestly just anything at this point i miss her so much i don’t care what we do as long as we’re together

24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

25. what color socks are you wearing?

they’re both different variations of black white and light blue

26. how many pillows do you sleep with?

at least 2

27. do you have a job? what do you do?

yeah i recently got a job in the mental health field and i work primarily with adults with various mental illnesses in a 24/7 supervised living area at the moment it’s mostly individuals dealing with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, depression, and borderline personality disorder and i help them with symptom management, building the skills they have chosen to work on in their treatment plans, and help them carry activities of daily living so they can become self-sufficient and can transition out and live on their own

28. how many friends do you have?

ah i mean i know i have a lot of friends but as far as really close friends i know i can count on and will most likely always have around i’d say i have about 8

29. whats the worst thing you have ever done?

ah fuck well i went through a really destructive phase in my recent past where i was just in a bad place and i withdrew and lashed out a lot and was super emotionally unstable and i hurt a lot of people and i regret it

30. whats your favorite candle scent?

omg i have no idea i usually just smell all the blue ones and go from there

31. 3 favorite boy names

elliot (this is my favorite name in the world probably)

max

derrick

32. 3 favorite girl names

bennett

caroline

sara

33. favorite actor?

i thought about this for a solid 5 minutes and no one is coming to mind i’m gonna leave this blank

34. favorite actress?

eliza dushku and alyson hannigan kill me every time i watch dollhouse or buffy i’m in love with her

35. who is your celebrity crush?

amber liu

36. favorite movie?

selena

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

i used to read a lot when i was a kid and the music of dolphins by karen hesse has always stuck with me for some reason idk if it’s my favorite but when i was a kid i checked it out at least once a month on our elementary library visits and even now i always find myself thinking about it

38. money or brains?

well if u don’t have money u can’t survive in this capitalist society so i mean

but if this question is asking what i want in a person i’d want the smart

39. do you have a nickname? what is it?

my family calls me mimi and tbh it’s the only thing i actually feel comfortable with weirdly

40. how many times have you been to the hospital?

i’ve been to the hospital multiple times to visit people but i don’t remember actually needing to be there myself besides when i burned my hands as a child

41. top 10 favorite songs

this is def subject to change depending on my mood at any given moment but for right now:

hold me tight by bts

house of cards by bts

lie by bts

all mine by one ok rock

deeper deeper by one ok rock

we are by one ok rock

decision by one ok rock

clock strikes by one ok rock

como la flor by selena

moon river waltz by shinee

42. do you take any medications daily?

no i had issues with family and insurance so i had to stop seeing my psych and taking meds

43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

dry

44. what is your biggest fear?

my mom having anything else bad happen to her

45. how many kids do you want?

this is most likely not going to be my choice lol i don’t have a number in mind if i do have kids

46. whats your go to hair style?

short and whatever it wants to do when i get out of the shower

47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)

well i don’t really live in a house rn but my mom’s house is huge she just moved in and it’s crazy big i’m so happy for her also the house i’m gonna move into soon is p small but still cute

48. who is your role model?

idk probably my mom she’s been through a lot and is still going strong

49. what was the last compliment you received?

“you’re so sweet, you know that?” from a client

50. what was the last text you sent?

“nini

51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

tbh i have no idea i was probably in elementary school

52. what is your dream car?

something that runs, is either blue or grey, and magically doesn’t cost me anything to drive it

53. opinion on smoking?

it smells terrible and i don’t like to be around people who smoke

54. do you go to college?

yeah i just graduated

55. what is your dream job?

i have no idea i don’t know what i want i haven’t really thought that far ahead but i love my job so far so i’m alright with where i’m at

56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

i don’t really have a preference as long as i’m with and near people i care about

57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?

i don’t think i’ve ever personally done that

58. do you have freckles?

yeah i have a couple scattered around

59. do you smile for pictures?

i make this weird stupid half smile face and i can’t stop

60. how many pictures do you have on your phone?

761

61. have you ever peed in the woods?

i have not

62. do you still watch cartoons?

i never want to not watch cartoons

63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from wendy’s or mcdonalds?

i don’t like chicken nuggets from anywhere

64. favorite dipping sauce?

wait for what

i like soy sauce for potstickers

65. what do you wear to bed?

usually shorts and a t shirt

66. have you ever won a spelling bee?

no i’m terrible at spelling out loud

67. what are your hobbies?

i like to dance idk not much else tho i guess

68. can you draw?

nooooo

69. do you play an instrument?

i played guitar once but i forgot everything smh

70. what was the last concert you saw?

the bts wings tour

71. tea or coffee?

tea

72. starbucks or dunkin donuts?

dunkin donuts

73. do you want to get married?

yes

74. what is your crush’s first and last initial?

e g

75. are you going to change your last name when you get married?

i’ve thought about this actually and i’m mostly just hesitant about how difficult it would be to change my name on like all the legal paperwork and like bills and work things and it just sounds super complicated but i wish it could be easier because i hate where my last name comes from and if i married my current gf we would literally have the exact same name and we would be able to confuse people even more and i just think it would be funny

76. what color looks best on you?

black i think

77. do you miss anyone right now?

yes oh my god

78. do you sleep with your door open or closed?

closed always closed

79. do you believe in ghosts?

yeah i do

80. what is your biggest pet peeve?

ok i get so mad when i go to a friend’s place who has long hair and i’m walking barefoot through their house or i’m sleeping over or i’m under a blanket or something and it just makes me so mad when i feel dumb long single strands of hair in my toes i hate it so much it makes me so mad idk man but this happened to me last night and i’ve been thinking about it ever since

81. last person you called?

ah well the last phone call that i was on was with the director of all the residential living things at my work

82. favorite ice cream flavor?

idk probably chocolate and vanilla with caramel

83. regular oreos or golden oreos?

regular oreos

84. chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

no sprinkles pls

85. what shirt are you wearing?

black and grey v neck t shirt

86. what is your phone background?

a picture of my gf i took a while back of her from a distance with the river and sunset in the background

87. are you outgoing or shy?

shy with everyone besides my friends

88. do you like it when people play with your hair?

only like a very specific like 2 people but when it’s anyone else i get really uncomfortable with being touched and you’d think that people wouldn’t just come up to you and start touching your hair and telling you how soft it is but it’s more common than you think and it makes me want to d ie

89. do you like your neighbors?

my nonexistent neighbors r gr8

90. do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

i always wash it in the morning but sometimes i wash it at night too if i feel gross from the day

91. have you ever been high?

nope never

92. have you ever been drunk?

yes

93. last thing you ate?

a blizzard from dairy queen with pieces of brownies in it

94. favorite lyrics right now

ok i’m gonna be honest and just say i’m not in a place to listen to music rn i’ve been listening to exclusively podcasts and i have not listened to a song and not zoned out completely during it in a very long time and no lyrics are coming to mind

95. summer or winter?

summer

96. day or night?

night

97. dark, milk, or white chocolate?

ah milk or white i guess i’m not a super big fan tho

98. favorite month?

june cuz my birthday also gay

99. what is your zodiac sign

gemini

100. who was the last person you cried in front of?

my dad

#asks #anon #thank u

1 note · View note

glimmerkeith · 7 years

Text

i finished 13 reasons why. jesus christ, i’m shaking, i’m so upset. tl dr; if you are an actual depressed person with suicidal tendencies, do not watch this goddamn show

overall i wasn’t…deeply impressed. and sort of sickened. i started watching it over the weekend and felt invested enough to at least finish the series.

story-wise, it was OK. i feel like they definitely didn’t need as much time w/ the whole story as they had, and they certainly don’t need a second season (as has been rumored. what would it even be about?)

i feel terrible for hannah. but um this is about the source material but it always seemed super sketch to me that it’s written by an adult guy who has….virtually no idea what it’s like to be a struggling girl in high school. like i appreciate the sentiment, but my guy, it just comes off as dramatizing (and borderline romanticizing, given the whole “you can’t love a person back to life” “you can try” exchange) a girl’s pain to teach a teenage dude (clay) about himself/the world/whatever.

the whole premise is just super fucked. with a couple of exceptions (bryce should go to fucking jail and tyler too. wtf was that ending??), but for the most part, a handful of those kids just did stupid things. cruel things in some cases, bad things, but the idea that they aren’t redeemable and should be haunted forever by those tapes is like….twisted. we all might have panicked in the situations they were in.

and for that matter, the show is super triggering. like incredibly. the elements of bullying are real but like…the rape scene(s)?? the actual suicide scene?? those were horrific. i know some people like to flaunt that “it has to be shocking to get the point across!!111!11!” but like…there’s a difference between that and just being genuinely harmful. as a person with suicidal tendencies, i can’t begin to describe how upset that made me, how deeply anxious. i knew it was coming and i’m currently in a good mental state, but i can’t imagine that scene with like…people who aren’t.

i was about to have an actual anxiety attack over the bathtub scene (which i could not watch in full because i knew it would ruin me). that’s messed up, it is so fucked they would chose to show it all that way. it does more harm than good, i’m honestly disgusted.

so to me, it seemed like a message aimed at people who don’t know what depression is like. to instill some sympathy?? idk. if they were going for a “you are not alone” vibe to other bullied/mentally ill people they like….really missed the mark, jesus christ.

there were some good things. i liked the diversity of the characters. zach was really cute………why did he have to be a dick. i liked some of the cinematography and especially lighting effects, like the shift to warm tones when hannah was alive vs. cool when she’s not was very well done. and a lot of the soundtrack was on point. and i liked how being on netflix allows for more, uh…”creative” expression, they definitely talked and swore more like young people do. some of the acting was very good. ALSO JEFF DESERVED BETTER, GOD.

one thing i /did/ like…..think was realistic or fitting or whatever in terms of mental health is the notion that hannah is an unreliable narrator, that she distorts things and does not remember correctly. of course, it could be just some of the other kids lying about it, but i think we’re at least expected to doubt her word a little. and depression wildly distorts my own worldview, i forget things so easily and confuse what happened where and when, it’s a horrible side effect–so if they were aiming to convey that, i think that worked.

so all in all…my morbid curiosity led me to watch this and i’m sorry that it did. i wouldn’t recommend it to anyone unless you have too much time on your hands and want to torment yourself for a while. i do think they were trying to aim for shedding light on a sensitive topic, but there is a respectful and considerate way to do that, and this sensationalizing of it is not it.

#13rw #god i'm glad that's over #tw suicide #tw mental health #tw depression

4 notes · View notes

datingadviceonreddit · 5 years

Link

And we had a amazing time. I (m25) matched with someone (f28) on Tinder six days ago and really hit it off over texting. I get a decent amount of matches but often feel exasperated that no one seems to want a real, deep conversation.We moved to WhatsApp pretty quickly because the length of our messages were starting to break the app. On Boxing day we had a real deep conversation about what we liked out of intimacy and sex and were on exactly the same page. We are both six months out of serious relationships and are happy, confident people but want that sense of attention, depth and connection you can only have with an intimate partner. That its as much about the emotional and mental feeling as it is physical. We text about it until 2am and it really turned both of us on. We agreed to meet the following evening and so began my longest ever first date.Her photos on tinder were visibly badly taken but when she turned up, Holy God. (She later told me the bad photos were deliberate so she didn't catch guys just after her looks) Greek goddess. Deep brown eyes, expressive, engaged body language. Yes please. We had a few drinks and talked, a red flag however is she was still getting text messages from her ex.An important disclaimer here; her ex has borderline personality disorder and serious depression. I.e. Still messages her saying if you don't talk to me ill cut myself, etc. Heavy shit. Her business, not mine. I'm a trainee mental health counsellor so I accept we all have baggage and we had talked at length about our mental health too. So I was cool with it, she is visibly "over" him but understandably still quite fragile. She said outright she found me attractive because I'm very stable and mentally tough. So yes getting fucked up messages from your crazy ex on a first date (and her reading the messages) is weird and a red flag, but I decided I was OK with it. She showed me some of the messages and asked me for. Y professional perspective, and we had a really good conversation about psychology. Again, her deal, not mine and nobody needs to decide if you want a serious relationship after one date.Back on topic. We go to the second bar. Far less awkward. She gets the message and her phones goes away and stays away. It's a metal bar and I discover that she loves that mind if music and we're singing all the lyrics to Metallica. We start to really flirt, innocent touches etc. I decide I want to kiss her. Bar closes. We go outside, she asks where my place is. I knew from our texts that going home with her on a first date was a possibility but I hadn't had time to clean my apartment. I kind of suggested she get an uber home but she gave me "the look" and I kissed her. Fuck it, life is short, I'm six months out of a serious relationship and I just want to be intimate with someone. I feel comfortable with her. Neither of us are drunk. We go to my place and I make her wait outside whilst I blitz my flat for two minutes. She is friends with someone I work with so I had been "verified" as not a serial killer, she said otherwise she wouldn't have gone home with me first time.We had both said we like sex slow and intimate. So it was probably about 4am until any clothes came off, but a LOT of making out and cuddling in my bed. I lit some candles, brought in my vinyl player and we made out to Pink Floyd, because all romance is made better by a David Gilmour guitar solo. In between, we talked about anything and everything. Just a feel good connection. We started to get naked and just helped each other relaxed. At 5:30am we decided to sleep for a bit, woke up sometime the next day, more making out, I went out quickly to get coffee and food for us. Felt great coming back to a beautiful Greek woman naked in my bed. I've been missing intimacy a lot. It just felt good. Lots of laughter.We decided to take a shower together and only then things get really sexual. She touched me and I made it clear I wanted her. After the shower I went down on her. As a woman she is quite complex and needs to be made to feel really relaxed and comfortable, but is also very sensitive, so I made an effort to try and learn what she needs. She felt great. We had talked the whole time about having sex but also that we both might not feel ready etc. There was no pressure or expectation. Just two human beings giving each other attention.By late last night we were still in bed together. She had put a lot of effort into making me feel good, went down on me (I know I shouldn't compare but oh my god, SO much better than my ex).At one point I went down k and her and she signed that she wanted me to make love to her, and but because I was being cautious about what she might not be ready for I didn't pick up on the signal. She said she wanted a guy to take the lead because she had been fed up of her doing everything with her ex, but admitted she was bad at communicating how she wanted to be treated. I said in that case I'm going to tie you to this bed and do whatever I want to you, and we had a great time making out, but when I went to give her oral she pushed me away saying she was too sensitive. I went back to making out, then tried again, same thing. Me not understanding that not all women need cunnilingus before penetration assumed I was doing something wrong, then tried to have sex with her with a condom but couldn't sustain an erection due to being quite nervous (also didn't help I had spent hours 24 hours with an erection and hadn't come - I can't orgasm through foreplay alone). She was really understanding and we went back to cuddling and it was cool.As we laid together she looked deep in though and I casually asked her what she was thinking about. She's a very direct kind of person and is probably too honest about things, then again the connection we had, we had already talked about most of our previous partners and life, the great memories and the traumas (I'm the son of an abusive heroin addict, it was a two way street). We had also talked about exclusivity and she said she didn't like talking to other guys because the connection between us (just over text) was so great. I told her it was her business and I'm not the jealous type, she's free to live her life, just don't tell me about other guys. She saw a tinder notification my my phone and said she felt a little jealous, I said I found that cute. I think it's obvious we will want something exclusive if we keep seeing each other.Anyway, she said without thinking that she was worried that she would date me then no longer feel attracted to me and that she would only see me as a friend, as it had happened with other people. I was a little upset by that and told her I thought it was a silly thing to say. It's naturally to think privately about someone but you don't tell them what you're thinking, (I didn't tell her this but obviously I'm thinking about her ex and whether she would be a good partner, etc). Because of the chemistry we had been enjoying I was a little bummed and she saw this and apologised with those big, brown eyes. She said she actually liked how I reacted because it showed I liked her. I said I did and then she got on top of me. The moment became quite emotional for both of us but also intimate and erotic and we ended up having unprotected sex. Let's say she didn't just see me as a friend. It felt fantastic and my neck today is covered in love bites. However, she is not on birth control (I didn't cum inside her, not that's an effective method) and we both said that had been stupid, neither of us liked using condoms but we agreed if we were going to keep seeing each other we would need to find an alternative. She left a couple of hours later as she is flying to see family today and needed to have proper sleep and pack, so I called her a taxi at 2am. Since waking up we've been texting and they chemistry is still there. I've broached the subjective of the emergency contraceptive pill and made it clear we need to be more sensible next time. She's genuinely listened and we're discussing options, being adults about it.I have no idea where this will go, or whether I even want a serious relationship or see her as a viable long term partner. 2020 will be extremely busy for me and I'm not sure if I want the investment, but I'd love to have an exclusive, reliable partner who feels the same way and wants to come and spend time with me and make love to Pink Floyd. Ive met her once but that chemistry is great. I do like her. She very obviously likes me. We'll just see how it goes and enjoy the ride. That's the story of my 29 hour first date.Very long post with no actual question, just felt like sharing! via /r/dating_advice

#dating #dating advice #reddit

0 notes

allthewaydead · 6 years

Text

Taylor McTaylor sat on the porch of her neighbor’s house, watching the sky turn purple as the sun was going down. A full moon rising from a horizon of trees over a lake across the street. The bass from the music playing inside she could feel slightly vibrating her chair. Her roommate Mary was standing not too far away on the front lawn in a group of five or six people, drunkenly fraternizing with anyone in her vicinity. Taylor was only on her second beer, she didn’t feel like getting too drunk tonight. There was a black cat on the sidewalk in front of the house that starred at Taylor. In her 2-Beered-State-of-Tipsy she returned its gaze by getting lost in its eyes. The cat’s eyes seemed to be a piercing green through the distance between them.

The front lawn and house inside was littered with young adult twenty-somethings because her neighbor was moving away and his friends were throwing him a going away party. Strange they made him have it at his own house, though Taylor wasn’t complaining because she lived next door and probably wouldn’t have come otherwise. She wasn’t really a social person; even with her roommate. Mary treated her like they were best friends but this was never a reaction to Taylor’s input as she liked being alone in her room most of the time. A girl standing on the lawn who noticed the black cat sitting near her bent over to pet it. She scratched its chin and it enjoyed it for a second before the cat looked back at Taylor and suddenly skittered away through the people up the porch stairs and past Taylor into the open front door of the house.

Taylor reached for the cat to pet it but it slipped by her. She felt rejected. She got up and followed the cat into the house and the crowd of people.

I’m gonna pet that cat.

She watched the cat darting around people, in between their legs, into the kitchen and out of the back sliding glass doors.

Aw what the hell? It knows what I want.

She followed the same path the cat took, only not between people’s legs almost getting stepped on. Out in the backyard the scene wasn’t much different. A Lawn full of young adults getting drunk and probably more. But Instead of a sidewalk with a street the lawn ended in a wall of trees, a small patch of forest behind every house on this street. And there was the black cat, looking back at her as if it actually was taunting her before proceeding into the forest via a small trail that lead out of the yard.

Taylor passed everyone in the yard, still holding her beer, and followed down the same trail. Things got a lot darker out past the borderline of trees, though she could still make most things out clearly. She walked until she could barely hear a murmur from the party and she came to a small circular clearing. The cat was nowhere to be seen.

“What kind of game are you playing here, cat?” Taylor now spoke out loud since no one was around.

“There she is.”

Taylor’s ears perked up and she spun to face where the voice came from. There were two man in cloaks standing just on the edge of the small clearing she was standing in.

Damn it, cat. This really was some sort of set up!

Taylor joked in her mind but she was immediately full of fear, these guys didn’t look like they were playing. Even if it was a joke she wouldn’t appreciate it slightly. Though Taylor was never one for showing her emotions on the surface, especially things like love or worry though hate and anger were usually exceptions. She froze in place knowing as soon as she started running they would start to chase her, and she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to out run them. Maybe her beer in one of their faces would slow them down enough for her to get a head start. The men began to take several steps towards her and the silence was broken…

“Taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaylor! What are you doing out here? Are you peeing???” A loud voice shouted from behind Taylor on the trail she came in on. It was Mary. And somehow, since Taylor had left on this little excursion following the cat, she had apparently had several more entire bottles of vodka. Mary stumbled into a run past Taylor and into the arms of one of the cloaked and hooded men. He almost fell back she slammed into him so hard.

“Who are these cute guys you’ve snuck away with?” Mary grading their looks positively even though their faces were barely distinguishable under the cloak’s hoods.

The man grabbed her and threw her off of him towards Taylor. She landed at Taylor’s feet. Taylor was hesitant to help Mary up, thinking that would be when they would rush her. The man who threw Mary reached into his cloak and pulled out a large knife.

“Come with us, or your friend dies.”

Aww, man, I knew I shoulda just stayed at home on my friggin’ computer.

“What do you want me for?” the question just sort of slipped out of her mouth, before she could even think if she wanted to know the answer. Both of the men began chuckling a slow and disturbing chuckle. They took another step, shortening the already lacking distance between them.

“Sorry, I musta tripped… coz I need another drink…” Mary said as she attempted to push herself off the ground. Her body wanting to move but head seemingly weighing 500 pounds, as she just kept her forehead in the dirt. “Taylor are you still there? …Weren’t we at a party?”

The men made their way toward Taylor. Taylor still frozen, not wanting them to hurt Mary because she was too wasted to defend herself. She thought she could hear a car horn far away, getting closer. The men’s smiles grew more apparent the closer they got. There was a huge crash and the men exploded in a spray of blood and chunks as a car smashed down on them. Landing flat in front of her. The headlights exploded on impact, the hooded bent up like the engine tried to escape from under it. Smoke poured out of the hood of the car.

When the smoke began to clear, she could see there were… two people sitting in the car. She looked up at the clear night sky full of stars.

What…?

The doors of the car opened up. Out of the passenger side, a young man with curly red hair who smiled at Taylor. Out of the driver’s side, however, a person in a black suit and tie with bright green dress shirt. They had on a bald dark grey mask that resembled a scarecrow but made of flesh: there were dark black rings around the burning green eyes, the brow twisted in an angry stare, and the mouth stitched shut in a wide smile ear to ear.

“Dead Jack, at your service!” The masked man belted out as he walked around the opened car door and extended a gloved hand to Taylor, who hadn’t moved an inch, “Or whatever shit people say.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Taylor turned around and ran away, back to the party at full blast.

Dead Jack looked down at Mary passed out in the grass, “She left her friend…"

Taylor flew past people in the backyard. Halfway between being speechless, and not liking to make a big deal about things. She also wasn’t even sure if what she’d just seen had actually just happened. Maybe this was what it was like to lose your mind, there was no history of mental illness in her family but she could hope. She didn’t stop; she ran through the back of the house, through the kitchen, and into the living room. She stopped and looked around. She didn’t want to run back home next door. Taylor didn’t want to make a big deal and then everyone know she was crazy. She saw a hallway to her left, with random people scattered up and down it leading to the bathroom at the end of it. Taylor could just go in there and hope to not have any more hallucinations, wait till the party was over, go home, go to sleep, then tomorrow maybe call a doctor. Or maybe this was a one time thing. Or if the masked man was real, hope that he wouldn’t think to check the bathroom.

Jack and his companion walked through the back door of the house.

“Jaems, shut the door.” Jack ordered with a positive tone without looking back, scoping the party out. Everyone in the house all turned to look at them in a wave that swept the room. His Red-Headed sidekick, Jaems, was holding Mary in his arms passed out, so he lightly shut the door shut behind him with his foot.

“What’s the matter? You guys never seen a redhead before?” Jack looked back eyeing Jaems’ locks, “…Damn, that shit is kind of embarrassing…” he turned back to the crowd, “Ok you guys, stare away.”

Jaems sat Mary on the kitchen table, forcing people sitting at it to hurriedly pick up their drinks.

“Dude, this isn’t a costume party.” One of the party patrons said walking up to Jack as his smugness transitioned to fear; his eyes tracing up Jack’s tie to the hideous mask he wore. There was a crack in his voice, “Besides…. What the hell are you?”

Jaems quietly watched as he still stood beside the kitchen table, relatively fitting in compared to Jack.

“I’m the one and only, bitch.” Jack delivered, he stepped in, starring down the party goer with his bright green eyes.

“W-why did th-that chick run in here all freaked out? Why are you chasing her?” The young man retorted.

“She’s just a little shocked. I tend to… drop in on people unexpected.”

A young woman’s aggravated voice sounded from somewhere in the middle of the crowd, “We’re calling the cops asshole.”

The young man questioning Dead Jack was pushed out of the way as Jack walked toward the woman threatening him with lawful action.

A man stepped from around the corner, between Jack and the woman, and had a rifle in his hand that he waved up and aimed directly at Jack with no hesitation.

“You messed up now, buddy!” The aggravated woman taunted Jack, “This is Tyler, this is his house and this is his going away party because he’s going into the army! Bet you regret being stupid now, dumbass!”

Jack’s head slowly bobbed over to look at Jaems, “You try and be polite by not killing everybody in your wake just coz you can, and this is the thanks you get… ‘S-M-H’, as they say… err, type.”

“Get the pistol out of my belt and hold it at the ginger.” Tyler instructed the young woman, and she grabbed a small handgun from somewhere on his back and pointed it at Jaems.

“Look at this guy who brought a gun to a knife fight.” Jack said pulling a large knife from the sleeve of his jacket like some magician handkerchief gag.

The entire party had gone still. There was a visual shuffling away of everyone in the room when Dead Jack pulled out the knife. “You wouldn’t shoot a guy with a knife would ya?” Jack took less than half a step forward and Tyler pulled the trigger.

There was a silent but psychic gasp shared by everyone in the room. Jack slowly looked down at a new hole piercing his shirt as his left hand slowly lifted to it to examine it. Jack didn’t fall or stumble, he was still standing. He looked up from the gunshot wound in his chest and around to Jaems, and back to the stunned crowd.

“Well, aren’t you going to shoot him too?” Jack said waving his hands toward Jaems like a presenter for a gameshow prize.

“Please don’t.” Jaems said, quietly and more as a suggestion.

Tyler and his righteous girlfriend looked even more frightened than the rest of the party.

“Ooooh, don’t worry… Tyler was it? I know it’s not an easy to take a life, but you gotta do what you gotta do.” Dead Jack snapped his fingers and ran his index and bird finger over the gunshot wound, a green spark followed where he traced seemingly sewing up his wound and shirt, “And I have empathy for you because I know it’s even harder when the life you take isn’t taken and it comes back to take you.”

Jack held the knife up to the young man.

Headlights shown from outside through the front door and windows, hardly catching anyone’s attention. There was the sound of tires screeching and doors slamming outside.

“Come on outside, Mr. Dead Jack!” A voiced sounded from outside.

“The cops!” Tyler shouted more relieved than ever and turned around bursting through the living room crowd towards the front of the house, “Dad! Dad!”

“Pfffffttt! That was embarrassing… right?” Jack tried for the sympathy of the crowd to no avail.

“Oooooooh! Mr. Scary-ass Mask man you gonna get it now!” a very flamboyant young man stood out from the crowd, “These police gonna hit your ass with a bazooka! You not gonna hurt this girl!”

“Look it’s been fun, but where is Taylor? It’s getting harder to stay here without killing all of you.” Jack said and walked towards the crowd who all began screaming and running out of the front door onto the front lawn.

Jack’s vision darted through the riot searching for Taylor, but couldn’t make her out among the hysteria. Before he knew it the entire party had vacated and it was just him, Jaems, Mary passed out on the table and the young who was just chastising Jack. He stood in the way of the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

“Is she back there, Dr. Flamboyant?” Jack asked with a zing.

“I told you that you’re not gonna hurt her.” Dr. Flamboyant said grasping a broom from against the wall near the hall entrance, and thrusting it at Dead Jack, but not close enough to hit him as if he was trying to ‘shoo’ Jack away.

“I’m not trying to hurt her ass-hat.” Jack said but was interrupted by gunfire outside and then he added after a pause, “They are…”

“Bring the girl out here and maybe we will let you live!” the voice from outside called.

“That don’t sound like no cops…” Dr. Flamboyant said loosening his stance and turning toward the open front door peering out it to the people yelling out the threats and orders.

“We had some men find some of our other men in the woods out back. Said they’d be ran over by a car.” The man outside continued to speak.

There were several white vans parked on the street in front of the house, glowing under the light of the street lamps and rising moon. And in front of the vehicles were about thirty hooded people, all holding various weapons from machetes to automatic rifles.

“You brought a cult?” Dr. Flamboyant lost some of his enthusiasm.

“They’re not mine.” Dead Jack turned back to Jaems, still beside Mary on the kitchen table. “Get the girl, and I’ll be back.”

“What about this girl?” Jaems asked about Mary.

“They say it’s the work of The Dead Man Jack.”, came from the Cult Man outside.

“We can’t be taking in all the strange we come across.” Jack said in a fast low voice, like they were parents having an argument in front of their children.

“BUT… I am not afraid any Dead Jack-Ass.” Cult Man yelled.

“She’s just really drunk and we can’t leave her here for those guys to find.” Jaems shot back.

“Fine, if you can carry her you can keep her.” Jack turned and walked out of the front door.

Dead Jack strutted out on to the porch to meet thirty-something weapon toting cult members standing on the front lawn. Standing there starring back with his green eyes and stitched shut smile. He put his hands on his hips to convey minor annoyance. “Wow, you’re a lot of cult-guys… Do you guys give out the cloaks, or do you each have to make your own?”

“I don’t believe the story I’ve heard about you, sir.” The Leader of the militia said, “I’m familiar with theatrics and my friend that is all you are, with your scarecrow mask and the nice suit. It’s a nice blend of intimidating horror and intimidating handsome. I’ve got to hand it to you.”

“Ooooh, thank you that’s so nice! I think I look good too.” Dead Jack flipped a small compact mirror up from seemingly nowhere, a magician sleight of hand, and began acting like he was checking his nonexistent hair.

“Our god is a real god. And he has sent us for the girl before you find her. So if we bring in your punk-ass mutilated corpse, I can’t even imagine how he will reward us.” The Leader bragged.

“Ok, now you’ve just made it weird.” Jack said, sticking the mirror back into the inside of his jacket.

“I grow tired of this conversation, and our Lord awaits. Release the cyclops!”

“Cyclops?”

0 notes