#both of them are fucking weird as hell but in a friendly way
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So.
Re: tumblr bans of transfemmes.
Let's ignore PhotoMatt for a moment. Manbaby tech CEO doubling down on a stupid decision and making himself look like more of an ass doing so is not a new phenomena.
Tumblr has consistently said, in both public statements and leaked internal communication, that they're essentially running a skeleton crew.
They keep saying that they don't have the resources to moderate, manually review posts, have any kind of appeal process, or anything. So, as people have widely received communications about, they seemed to have automated a significant portion of the moderation to operate solely on the quantity of reports (probably with a basic filter, eg quantity of reports regarding a certain post, within a certain timeframe) to automatically ban or shadowban accounts.
And so, they wipe their hands, both to the users, the public, and their own consciousness, and go about their automated operations.
All of this is likely true. Tumblr, at this point, is essentially abandonware internally, a kind of weird vanity project/dumpster ground for server infrastructure for Automattic. Likely, they don't want the bad press of "shutting down" fully. Or maybe the trickle of revenue they get here just barely exceeds operating costs, so why not keep it around?
Whatever is the case, the bans are a result of an automated process working in the background. I'm giving them some benefit of the doubt here, of course, we can't know anything for certain- but it seems like the individual bans are not based on any specific, manual action.
And that doesn't fucking excuse anything.
Because at some point, multiple people sat down at tumblr, and decided how to cut costs.
And they decided that the bare minimum of report abuse prevention was one of the first things on the chopping block.
Before the boops. Before GUI reconfigures.
They decided to cut something that is necessary to manage online communities.
They decided to cut something that ensures any targeted group will have any kind of community online.
And then, after all of that, the only manual intervention is doubling down on the shitty decisions that the automated systems make, and plucking reasons out of their ass for why they were the right decisions all along.
It's pure silicon valley brain. Blame the computer often and always. Use it to shield the active decisions you made when designing the computer that way. Treat it as a fact of life as opposed to something they actively made decisions for.
Is tumblr staff hitting the banhammer on each transfemme one by one? No.
Is tumblr staff deliberately crafting a system that allows TERFs and other conservative bigots to get rid of the "undesirables" for them? Yup. But they sure as hell are trying to not say the quiet part out loud. If they can always point the finger somewhere else, to the advertisers, to the automated systems, to the TERFs, then they can always have juuusssttt enough plausible deniability.
But being the "queerest place on the internet" requires concious acknowledgement that queer people will be targets of harassment, and you will have to protect against that.
Side note, this is why I do try to keep my blog at least somewhat SFW. Its one of the main reasons why I choose not to reblog all of the posts I'm tagged in- if the post is overtly NSFW, I've probably seen it, appreciated it, and consciously decided my level of interaction with it mostly based on how "tumblr friendly" it is. Is that bowing down to them? A little. It's also my choice. I value the community I have here. The pushes that y'all have given me gave me the strength to transition, and honestly gives me a lot of motivation to research HRT biology as much as I can, among many other things.
Yeah, I post pictures that are clearly meant to be found attractive in ways that are generally not socially acceptable , but never actual NSFW. I would like to think that I'm pretty safe from bans, but hey. Who knows. I don't want to lose my follower base, and the community around it.
And yeah, I'm gonna annoyingly remind you of the other places to find me, make sure to check my pin. If you don't know where to go, just find me on reddit and go from there, I'll post about it if anything happens.
#I hope this rant is at least somewhat intelligible#im in lab late night and typing this out as fast as i can in between experiment steps#stay safe out there yall
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pairings: Wanda maximoff x Reader
warnings(18+ ONLY): legal age gap, Wanda's in her forties and reader is in their twenties, I try not to use specific gender for reader as I want everyone to enjoy but for smut I will use proper tag, oral s*x (r!receiving), top!Wanda, jealous Wanda, weird creepy guy(ew).
part 1, part 2, part 3.
Older!Librarian!Wanda getting jealous when anyone flirts with you, has their hands on you a bit too long for her liking.
She knows she's possessive, maybe even a little bit obsessive. Everyone should know you're hers and only hers. Even if she has to put a collar on it with her name.
Wanda wasn't always the jealous type, as she claims. Ever since you officially called her your girlfriend, she's been more protective, something changed in her that she couldn't quite understand.
She's still getting used to all this, it's way different than how she's used to it being, back in her day. Now she's got you by her side, you were just so damn pretty, she couldn't believe she's lucky enough to have you.
When she takes you out for your weekly dates, of course, shed not too surprised when someone comes up and tries to ask you for your number or compliments you, she doesn't blame them. She too would be in their shoes if she saw you.
A guy comes up to you, immediately, her grip tightens around your hand, pulling you in closer to her body, she can't help it. She needs you close. He's a waitress at the restaurant she's taken you too, he's being a bit too friendly, you didn't seem to notice, you're sweet, but Wanda has noticed you can be naive.
Naive to the point where you think the waitress was just being nice.
No.
Wanda wasn't stupid.
She glared daggers at him the entire time he was taking forever to take both of your orders, purposely ignoring her presence just to talk to you, when his hand touched yours, she saw you flinch away, laughing awkwardly, Wanda raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to continue, if he knew what's best for him.
He got the message as soon as she placed her hand on top of yours, and brought it to her lips, kissing your knuckles, enjoying how flustered you got.
She had already lost her appetite. The only thing she wanted was you.
She abruptly got up, ignoring the waitress as she was too annoyed to acknowledge anyone else but you. She grabbed your hand, forcing you to follow her as she pulled you into the bathrooms, locking the door behind you.
"Wanda? What's wrong? Are you-"
She cut you off by pressing your body against the wall, staring at you as her eyes go dark, you seem to get the message, not backing away as the aching in between your legs grew, more desperate for her.
She smirked, lips meeting yours to shut out the noises, though as much as she'd love for everyone to hear you scream her name as she makes you come, this is for her only.
Wanda got on her knees, staring at you the entire time she did so, making sure you were looking only at her, her heart hammering in her chest. She wasn't sure what overcame, why this feeling was so intense. She knew she was going to have to bring it up later.
But for now, she wanted to taste you, it would be better than anything this restaurant could ever provide anyways.
She has your mouth stuffed with your panties, wanting to know just how soaking wet you are for her and she's just started. Wanda expertly licks up your cunt, inserting a finger inside your tight hole, god, no matter how many times she fucks it she still can't get over how it clenches around her.
She feels you squirming, she loves it. Wanda doesn't look away and neither do you. It's a lot. She can feel it.
You come into her mouth, wetness pooling in, some of it dripping onto her chin, your cheeks burned at the sight as she pulls your panties out of your mouth, leaving you breathless.
"fucking hell" you muttered, slumping against the wall.
She grinned, pleased, licking her lips.
Then you say the words she was looking to hear.
"can we skip dinner please? I want you."
#librarian!wanda#wanda x reader#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff smut#stuff i wrote
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I like the general fandom trend to just take the plot of Hyrule Warriors as a loose guideline at best and just use the whole concept as a good excuse to get blorbos to interact across timelines, BUT I'm very disappointed that everyone is missing the comedic potential of a very specific squad of characters:
Young Link (aka Mask), who walks out of the nightmare of Majora's Mask and immediately gets portal kidnapped into a temporal war, takes one look at the whole mess and decides that you could not fucking pay him to admit to being the resident expert on Time Shenanigans. He introduces himself with the title of Hero of Termina, and definitely doesn't have any other ones, that would be crazy. Hero of Time? Never heard of him.
Tetra, who is a kickass pirate captain with zero patience for people trying to shove her into the Designated Princess role, and realizes immediately that Oh Fuck, this Hyrule has a lot of Ideas about how the Hero and the Princess are supposed to properly play their parts, the second they realize she's technically a Zelda they're gonna shove her in a goddamn dress and damsel her again, that's not happening. So she's definitely just a really cool pirate captain, nothing else going on here at all, definitely not the heir of the Hylian royal family in her time, that'd be crazy.
Ravio, who is literally just a palette swapped Link, meaning that the second his hood comes off, things are gonna get Awkward. There's no way in hell he's dealing with all that Hero baggage, that's Link work, so that giant bunny hood/mask is practically superglued to his head, and he's not taking it off for love or money.
Spirit Tracks Zelda, who is just in the Phantom Armour the whole time, and passing herself off as just a friendly ghost posessing a suit of armour to help the Hero of Spirits. Of course she isn't Princess Zelda, that's ridiculous, if she were a Zelda then people would start getting really weird about her technically being dead, and boy does that ever sound like a whole Thing she doesn't want to deal with, so she can't possibly be Zelda, she's just a nice ghost knight. Also, her teenage grandma is here, and that's kinda weird, so it's easier to just not admit to being royalty and avoid that awkward conversation.
Finally there's Sheik, who is not the Princess Zelda of the era straight up abandoning her war torn country for months at a time so she can risk her life in extreme cosplay for no clear reason, but is instead the actual Sheik from Ocarina of Time, who just beat Ganondorf like a month ago and is still trying to process what the fuck to do now. Also, he's been pretending to be a boy since he was ten, and is realizing there's a pretty good chance that he isn't pretending anymore, so that's a whole other can of worms. But for the last seven years of his life, being Princess Zelda meant certain death, so he's not really inclined to introduce himself like when in a new and stressful situation (not to mention he might actually just not be a girl named Zelda anymore), so he automatically introduces himself as just Sheik the spooky ninja man, and fuck he's in too deep to back out now, looks like he's committing to the bit. If you think you sense the Triforce of Wisdom on him, no you don't.
Cue shenanigans as the five of them attempt to hide that they're all actually kind of A Big Deal. The group motto is "Nobody says shit", which is usually delivered as a frantic hiss whenever someone slips up. Just the reunion between Sheik and Mask alone would be absolutely buckwild given how they parted, and how they're both frantically pretending to Not be involved with each other. For added hilarity and/or drama, Sheik gives his semi-bullshit cover story of having just been a friend of the Hero of Time, then runs into said Hero of Time and they both have to desperately pretend not to know each other, because if anyone picks up on the mountain of baggage between them then Mask is busted, and he won't hesitate to drag Sheik down with him out of sheer spite. Not to mention the weird balance of Sheik being used to this Link being a teenager that's actually a small child, and now has to adjust to Link who is a small child that's actually a teenager.
Also, i really feel like we're all missing out on the comedy potential of Ganondorf recognizing Young Link on sight and the two of them immediately launching into a grudge match with some extremely personal and specific insults on both sides. Meanwhile literally everybody else is just standing there watching, trying to process the fact that out of every single person that's been pulled out of time, Ganondorf only has personal beef with a literal nine year old.
I just feel like we're all really sleeping on the potential for Shenanigans here. The whole thing is an absurd mess, why not have some fun with it?
#legend of zelda#hyrule warriors#for the record im picturing the sheik-mask reunion as being the spiderman pointing meme for like five minutes#also my mental image of sheik is extremely Bad haircut (he does it himself with a knife and doesnt care about making it even)#and a ridiculous tanline across his face from wearing a mask all day#OOT magiaclly growing out zelda's hair and manifesting a Royal Gown was some top tier bullshit and i'm always angry about it#like dude. literally all of princess zelda's finery was made for a ten year old#she's like eighteen now. nobody's making royal finery for teenage zelda. where was she supposed to get that dress.#i am eternally on my agenda to let zelda wear some goddamn pants without an immediate magic makeover to *fix* it#anyways nintendo's sexism aside i like sheik being trans its very fun and sexy of him#tfw you go into hiding to escape political assassination and accidentally trans your gender in the process
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Dude I'm so confused
Why are the redditors refugees here-
Whats up with the tag 196
AND WHY IS EVERYONE BEING SO NICE WITH THE TWITTER REFUGEES CAME WE GAVE THEM HELL (almost)
The Reddit refugees are here because several subreddits have gone private in protest of reddit's new policy of charging third party developers for access to its API.
Hence the term reddit blackout.
196 specifically was a very queer friendly subreddit that had one rule: that you post before you leave. 196 is trending because those Redditors have come here and they're basically sharing their memery here instead as they protest reddit's greed.
As for why we're welcoming them when Twitter refugees were seen with a little more irritation, well.
Think of the culture similarities.
Tumblr and reddit have far more in common than Tumblr and Twitter.
Twitter is about clout and manipulating algorithms and discourse in 280 characters or less. It's about bad takes that reach the right people and it forces you to see things you don't want to see and it's crawling with the worst people imaginable and you're forced to see them, all the time. They also brought bad tagging and 2016 Tumblr discourse with them, because Twitter culture really involves starting fights for clout and braindead opinions that no one really wants to come back to Tumblr culture.
There was a time when Tumblr did the same thing, but worse, with more words...but nowadays, it's really calmed down.
The worst people...went to Twitter after the porn ban. Ironically, it made the site less toxic and hostile.
But then they came back.
And it was like...hm. no thanks. Stay back where you came from.
But Tumblr and Reddit have much more in common.
Both have a more streamlined way of customizing your online feed. You can choose what subreddits you see on your home screen, just like Tumblr only shows you the content of your followers, on your dashboard, and in chronological order rather than what's trending. You can join a very specific weird niche group of freaks with a shared obsession, and not care about the rest of the site at all. You also don't have a character limit on either site, which lets you ramble more and share weird detailed stories.
Reddit might have karma, but like Tumblr, the majority of people are lurkers and not posters. It also allows you to downvote bad opinions, and moderators who have to adhere to certain guidelines of behavior, which means a lot of banning disruptive people.
Granted, sometimes their mods are power hungry, but. You know.
It does more to control its users than Tumblr do, and that's a good thing in terms of keeping toxicity and illegal shit off its subs.
Reddit also has a way more leftwing attitude than you would think.
It has a reputation for being full of incels but I honestly think that's outdated.
It's cleaned up its act quite a bit since the old days.
I see way more vile shit from Twitter and TikTok. Like seriously.
Twitter is crawling with conservative bots and propaganda machines and just outright inflammatory lies. TikTok literally has the worst comment sections I've ever seen, like edgy teenagers cracking racist and misogynistic humor and acting like it makes them different and special. Its algorithm also spoon feeds you garbage and is designed to be as addicting as possible.
At least reddit's culture, while chauvinistic and regressive in certain subcultures, is mostly on the tech positive, atheist libertarian side.
It can be a little pretentious and caustic about certain subjects, and a little full of itself. Some reddits are also very male leaning and disregard female concerns in favor of moaning about how men have it worse than anyone else on earth.
But for the most part?
...well.
I welcome them here, because if they left reddit in protest, then we always support protests. But 196 specifically is also a queer subreddit, and we support that even more.
Plus they're funny as fuck.
What's not to like, really?
You should welcome them with open arms too.
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came across this screenshot of a tweet on pinterest and i couldn’t help but headcanon making it through the twd apocalypse because of a painfully obvious crush on daryl.
twd headcanon: obviously crushing on an oblivious daryl dixon.
giggling in the distance while daryl dixon is in the middle of killing walkers, “ugh he’s so cute when he does that”
kicking your feet sitting up in a tree going “hiiiii daryllllll! <3 whatcha doinnn” and he’s like “???” cause you’re legitimately surrounded by now dead walkers and covered in blood
very sunshine x grumpy coded
whispering to maggie “oh my god do you think he was checking me out?” in the middle of a battle
“does this top look cute on me?” “what do you think is his type?” “should i maybe start smoking so we can go on smoke breaks together”
reminding yourself you’re a grown woman with composure and dignity when you find yourself wanting to scream into your pillow, because this daryl crush is so frustrating and he’s just so hot and his arms are so perfect and the way his voice makes you want to climb him right then and there-
wanting to be all mysterious and cool around him but it’s like the spirit of your teenage self possesses you whenever he’s around
subtly standing riiigghhhtttt behind him so rick pairs you together for supply runs then fist-pumping to yourself when it works
rick pretends not to notice. he pairs both of you up on purpose everytime
if he helps you up, you hold on to his hand for longer than you need to, in what you think is a subtle way but everyone notices
while almost dying, “fuck, can someone make sure my hair looks good before daryl sees me? rosita PLEASE im your FRIEND stop messing with my wound and fix my HAIRhdhwhrjue”
“maggie if i pass out can you please do me a favour and make sure daryl is the one who carries me? <3 oooh do you think he knows how to do cpr-“
*in the middle of killing walkers* wow daryl!!! *slash* that was *stab* a great shot!
daryl being ultimately clueless about your flirting and genuinely just thinks you’re being friendly
carol having to tell him “daryl she’s in love with you it’s so obvious”
and he denies it “nah she acts that way towards everyone” even if he secretly wishes it was true
carol wanting to smack him on the head because everyone knows you’re head over heels for daryl dixon except for daryl dixon
when you’re caught in a herd, you force yourself to keep going because there’s no way in hell you’re going to die surrounded by walkers. in your dazed state you’re thinking “fuck this shit im tracking dixon down and im gonna use my last breath to tell him i love him”
and maybe dying in his arms sounds better than being ripped apart by reanimated corpses so you keep pushing yourself
when you make it home you basically just throw yourself at the gates and everyone rushes over to get you to the infirmary
you could’ve sworn you heard maggie yell at daryl to carry you but you’re too out of it to process the thought
bleeding out and feeling yourself fading but then you hear daryl’s voice
“come on, y/n, you’re a fighter. you gotta make it through this. i know you can. please, you have to.”
it’s a miracle how instantly that makes you open your eyes when you were seconds away from death just before that
bringing you flowers and random little gifts while you’re healing up in bed but only putting them next to you when you’re asleep because he’s too shy
him not used to the days being so quiet without you being two steps behind him
finding himself missing your ridiculous quips when he’s on a supply run killing walkers and having to fill the silence with your voice in his head, recalling all the things you regularly say to him, because it feels too weird without you
being so attentive to your needs when you feel good enough to be out and about
daryl feeling much, much better when you’re back to being yourself and the days feel normal again with you going “hiiiiii darryyylllll <3”
carol: she’s in love with you.
daryl: she ain’t. stop it.
carol: fine! but you can’t deny you’re in love with her
whole thing is very reminiscent of a high school crush; innocent, bashful, endearing. everyone’s so entertained by The Daryl and Y/N Show
they have a bet going on to see who asks who out first
daryl asking maggie if what carol tells him is true, trying and failing to be casual about it
very shrill “he WHAT?!?” scream heard from your room, just minutes after the exchange
“TELLMEEVERYTHINGHESAID-“
#the walking dead#the walking dead imagines#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead headcanons#carol peletier#maggie rhee#rosita espinosa#rick grimes#in my head this is during alexandria era#divider by cafekitsune
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hi! i was wondering if youd be able to write a bakugou x fem! reader fanfic where class 1A locks them in a closet together? It can be angst or fluff! U can write about how they react and stuff? Maybe they argued prior or they are just playing a game! Its Up to you! Have an awesome night :)!!!
– note!
Hii, thank you so much for being my first request !! I love writing teenage angst/fluff <333
💥 KATSUKI X FEM READER. ( Established Relationship ) — SFW
POC friendly, readers appearance, race, and quirk isn't stated, imagine how you wanna imagine, reader and Katsuki are in first year but nearing end of year, class 1-A students mentioned.
Tag rating: Fluff (🐑) and a little angst (☃️).. oh and teenage romance (🌠)
summary..
You and Katsuki get into a little fight about his attitude, storming off a little before game night. Your friends had a little plan set for you, just so you can fix your differences out.
It was just supposed to be a fun game for class 1-A, your usual teenage shenanigans.. but oh how funny it was for you.
It had just been a recent argument, you and Katsuki weren't supposed to get into a fight during the afternoon on the day they were going to have a game night for the class. It was some really ‘stupid’ disagreement on how Katsuki treated you. Sure he loved you so much but could you really feel it the way he tried showing it?
…
“ I just want you to be more honest! No “oks”, no leaving me on read or- or— brushing me off with these kinds of topics! “, your voice strained, hair falling on your face as you angerly stuttered out your words.
“ Why do you have to worry about that shit all the time? I'm honest with you! Just because I don't do that shit doest mean I don't give a fuck? “, Katsuki argued back, god why was it so frustrating? Why was he this hard headed just to give some proportionate amount of attention to the girl he loved.
“ Fuck you! “, you stormed off, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill through your eyes. You weren't that kind of person, you didn't want to convince yourself that you'd cry just because of a few words he said.. so you stomped, slammed the door and headed to your room to scream at the balcony window like it was him.
…
Now you sipped water, sitting down with a few pillows to the side of you, Mina sat down on the side without a pillows. It was just great how she caught you screaming at the balcony window, all she wanted to do was to call you to say they set up snacks and the common room’s living area was ready for you to snuggle beside Katsuki to (that's what they'd like to dramatize it to).. or at least sit beside him in.
“ Uh, girl, so like.. did you and Bakugo fight or? Is he moping– “, Mina trailed off.. you dug your hands into your legs, sitting cross legged and putting the glass of water down on the fluffy carpet. The rest of the class was finding their way to sit down in a round sitting arrangement.. snacks near the people who needed it, a little laughter. All you could focus your eyes on in the crowd of people was Katsuki who avoided you to go sit with Eijiro.
Of course, as always he'd avoid you.. but hell, you didn't want to talk to him after what he said. “ It's nothing. He'll probably get over it again “, you muttered, not making it clear if you guys had an argument or not or if he was just moping. Mina sighed, sitting with her legs tucked into her chest, she looked at her classmates, her eyes landing on Katsuki's glare and you and her before it steered clear of it. It was a piercing glare, you were used to it.
…
The night proceeded as usual, truth or dare, some weird confessions and actions. It was hours enough to entertain everyone with truth or dare, but after Denki got tired of the same thing and the others running out of asks and dares, they all decided to have a classic game of 7 minutes in heaven.
It was a classic, a cheesy one at that.. since you and Katsuki were the only couple the class you both stayed out of the game. Were you going to now, though? What if you were petty enough to join the game to piss of Katsuki, take it as a revenge.
Who are you kidding, you are, so fuck it. You nodded- joining into the game.
The slim glass bottle of organic orange juice courtesy of Iida spun, some nice pairs.. not like anything was going to get heated, you guys were nearing the end of 1st year anyway, who was brave enough to do that anyway..?
It pissed you off when Katsuki held the bottle, moving to the middle and spinning it.. he decided to join in if you joined in, his face stoic. Eijiro creeped a smile, like he knew something was up as he looked at you.. while the bottle spun it was slowly stopping.. passing you then-
It clinked.
Kyouka had used her earphone jacks to ““descreetly”” push the bottle towards you
“ Oi- the hell are you- “
“ Guys what are you- “
Before you and Katsuki could react, Eijiro pulled him and Ochako floated and pulled you towards the closet. You and him both equally tried to protest, but it was futile as mina helped Eijiro and Ochako push you and your boyfriend into the closet, and shutting the door. You stumbled into the shoe and coat pile, the dust luckily been cleaned out by the other people who had entered, Katsuki was shoved in forcefully as he shouted- stumbling on you. He quickly got back up to his feet, looking at you with a not so happy look.
“ Seven minutes! “, the familiar brunettes voice sounded, knocking at the door a few little ones. The distance chuckles of Mina and Eijoru faded..
The lights were a dim orange one, you found your way to lean on the side wall, letting out an exasperated sigh. Katsuki went opposite of you, keeping your distance.. his arms crossed then your arms did.. the silence was deafening.
You've only had 7 minutes with people who you didn't have interest that way in.. every time you were it was with a stranger who you weren't comfortable with or it was a friend who you just talked it out, so having it with someone you actually liked was a different turn. No, no way you two were going to do anything.. Katsuki isn't that type, and you just got into a fight.
“ ‘m sorry. “, Katsuki cut off with a small, miniscule sounding voice.
“ What? “, you asked, maybe a part of you heard it.. maybe you didn't.
“ I said I'm sorry. “, Katsuki repeated in a grunt, he clicked his tongue. “ I'm sorry for being a dick, you know I'm not good with this stuff. “, his arms unfolded to lead itself to his hips. The space wasn't exactly good for it, so he put only one on it while the other rested in his pocket.
You weren't expecting the spiky blonde to apologize, he does apologize just.. never for something like this. Katsuki's been working on himself, for you, but it was reasonable why you'd say the things you said.. if you meant it or not, you were still hurt.
“ You're sorry? “, you repeated, eyes trailing Katsuki's figure. The lights flickered a little, your hand leading to your face. You sat down quietly on a bunch of boxes by the side, they must be full of shoes.
“ Yeah. “, Katsuki confirmed, leaning back more on the wall
“ yeah, you aren't good.. at that. . . Kind of stuff “, you reiterated. Being with Katsuki meant you knew a lot of what he is as a person, he's emotionally constipated and isn't into that stuff.
“ It's foreign to me, ok? If I'm being honest, I'm.. just- it's hard for me, dumbass. “, his eyes lingered on the floor, as if you'd see those beautiful crimson eyes of his under this darkness anyway. You shifted uncomfortably, hands running down to move to your lap.
“ I know, you say it like, a lot. “, squeezing your bottom clothes for that statement, you wanted more from him that just.. “ Kats, I won't hate you for it “, you continued.
Katsuki huffed, it was a pleasant conversation, he seemed a little satisfied to hear that
“ What do you want then? “, his shoulders stopped tensing up.
“ I don't know what I want. “, you said, the lights flickered again. The silence was evident, even the lightest push of your feet could be heard, the lightest shuffle that came from Katsuki's shirt can be heard as clear.. the only thing really filling in the silence was the light bulb sounding staticy, but somehow under the presence of eachother it wasn't uncomfortable.
“ I know that I want you though. “, you broke the silence. Katsuki tensed back up, his head looking at you and he clicked his tongue again..
“ Fine, I'll be more honest “, you heard clearly, his voice was gruff and embarrassed. His hands dug themselves into his pockets.
“ I didn't say that- “, your mouth opened and spoke, there's a lot of things you craved from him.. but you were alright with-
“ that's what you said when you shouted at me. “, he cut you off. “ I'll hold you better, I'll show you that I care and- just, whatever you need, k? “, his voice was shy, a little embarrassed.
You appreciated the way he was wording it, it didn't sound half assed. One of the few reasons you loved him so much is that he was true to himself.
“ I'm sorry for yelling at you, I was just making my feelings clear “, you said, finally moving in to get a consolidation hug, you needed it.
His breath hitched when you reached into him, but he melted and hugged you back, his hands grasping your back, taking in your scent. He let off a small nod, you wouldn't see it but you knew that's how he accepted apologies.
“ I love you. “, you quietly muttered, the room sounded with a shuffle from katsuki, getting a little taken aback, it wasn't like you don't say I love you.. its just he wasn't still used to it.
“ Anddd, 7 minutes! “, the door opened with a swing, knocking your shoulder (or Katsukis because you were in a hug) a bit.., the outside was wide and bright, the others cornered the room. Denki had opened the door, timer on his phone in hand, Eijiro looked happy, putting a thumbs up for his friend, Mina was grasping her hands and finally being happy you both didn't have a bad aura on you..
Katsuki was about to pull away when you pulled him back in, shutting the door with a loud slam. This was your moment now, not just seven minutes in heaven.
“ …god, I love you too. “, he uttered, ending your little turmoil.
#mha fanfiction#mha x reader#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x reader#fanfiction#my hero academia#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#bakugou x black reader#katsuki fluff#katsuki angst#my gosh i keep editing this post.#idk how tumblr works#katsuki my love i hope i didnt out of character him
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how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3
I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂
I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!
smile at me
It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?
Or something.
Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam.
“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”
“It’s literally my job,” you told him.
Apparently, that didn’t matter.
But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once.
It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look.
Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge.
“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”
Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around.
The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle.
“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”
Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”
You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?”
You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”
He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”
“He broke up with me.”
Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”
You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all.
“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues.
You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”
Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included.
“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”
A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani.
As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.
—
“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.
You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”
The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”
Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening.
“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump.
“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain.
Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown.
“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say.
Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”
You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head.
“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”
“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.
“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”
“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”
Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”
You laugh and follow him to the elevator.
—
It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively.
Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.
“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”
“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”
It’s not a problem.
Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain.
But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.
He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman.
Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back.
“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”
You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver.
“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce.
You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring.
—
“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm.
“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.
You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown.
“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair.
“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”
You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.
“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”
You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.
The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.
—
Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.)
So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life.
And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him.
So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel.
You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.
—
Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired.
You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking.
“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”
You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments.
—
You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you.
“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep.
You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night.
Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved.
Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.
“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”
You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”
Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”
You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”
“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”
“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”
Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green.
Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips.
“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.
It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter.
It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.
The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”
“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”
Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.
“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”
Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”
“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”
“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning.
“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”
“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”
“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”
You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”
Jamie shoots up. “What?!”
“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”
Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”
You grin as you climb onto his lap.
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt#ted lasso
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GODDAMNIT
man, I was just scrolling and now I'm a goddamn Raidioapple shipper what the FUCK
Ok ok-
And now I'm going to elaborate just because.
I was expecting someone out there to ship Lucifer and Alastor the second I heard Hell's Greatest Dad. I mean- two people singing/arguing over being father figures? Sounds gay to me /pos. The internet sure does love it's enemies to lovers (me included. I'm hopless lmao.)
BUT. I have specifics for this ship.
I hate it when people just look at Alastor's aromanticism/asexuallity and just go "nah. I'm just gonna do it anyways." I used to headcanon Alastor as complete aroace in the sense that he just can't feel that way for someone (this is not meant to sound like "oh he can't love anyone :( he's incapable" I mean specifically a romantic/sexual relationship.) Then fucking short ass king of hell arrives, and Alastor just IMMEDIATELY chooses violence.
I didn't think much of that besides "oh that's a little interesting," and then I stumbled across Radioapple and had to take a double take. My brain needed to figure out how that would work, like how it would start, flourish, ineract, yadda yadda-
.....so now I consider Alastor Demiromantic-
(I'm still goddamn writing jeez-)
Read on if you like random people looking wayyyyyy too much into fictional characters.
Headcanon timeeeeeeeee
When Lucifer and Alastor first meet, Alastor is surprised Lucifer doesn't know who he is. Up to this point, everyone knows about the terrifying radio demon, so it must be a little weird for someone to be completely ignorant to his existence. Especially when that person should probably know the ins and outs of what's going on- ....because he's the fucking king of hell.
This is something new for Alastor. It made him curious. When you're curious, you try to learn more right? So, Alastor starts pushing Lucifer's buttons, seeing how he reacts. On Lucifer's end, Alastor's just being a smug asshole. However his true intentions are information on the esteemed oh-so-powerful king of hell. Maybe Alastor doesn't quite know where this fascination comes from, but regardless he wants to learn more. I can picture him progressively bothering Lucifer more and more (this is his unique way of getting to know him semi-discreetly)
As well as figuring out what ticks him off, Alastor would also probably passively learn things Lucifer likes. For instance, he finds out what Lucifer's favorite alcoholic drink is or something- bare with me- Let’s say Lucifer has a rough day, and it's very clear to everyone in the hotel. While he's frustrated in his own room, he hears a knock at the door. Answering it, he finds his aforementioned favorite drink. At this point, he wouldn't know who left it. But after a while, he'd be able to figure out it's Alastor through process of elimination. (This is inspired by a comic I saw! :))
Now we've got Alastor trying to discreetly be kind to Lucifer, and Lucifer is aware without his knowledge. And Lucifer would call him out for it lmao. Slowly, they'd start acting friendlier towards each other. It would take a long, long time though. The slowest slow burn of them all. They'd hang out more, do things, kick angel ass, have friendly banter, do stuff with Charlie. Untill Alastor finally realizes that he might have a crush on Lucifer. Though, I feel he'd take a while to fully figure that out, do some soul searching, maybe go to Rosie for advice.
Then they'd confess. Or they wouldn't lol. I can totally see them going on what is essentially a date, even though they just consider it "hanging out". It would be a quiet relationship. Something you'd miss if you aren't looking for it, but it is there. They both just need someone they can rest with in my opinion.
These ideas are probably sporadic and nonsensical- but I ✨️don't care✨️ I just needed to rant about the old timey deer man and the short depressed apple gremlin.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin alastor#lucifer#hazbin lucifer#radioapple#shipping#rant post#headcanon#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel ship#Lucifer would have to use a box to give Alastor a kiss on the cheek.#Hazbin hotel show#hazbin hotel spoilers#That or Alastor would just pick him up and tease him about it#asexual#aromantic#aroace#arospec#aroace alastor#aroace character#lgbtq#lgbtqia#lgbtq community#queer headcanons#character dynamics
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I Think I Like When It Rains
A soft smutty SilverV oneshot, 3k words. A/n: fem V from a corpo background, nsfw.
The long trek towards her northside apartment was unusually silent and painfully dull. Normally Johnny's comments would be firing at a rapid pace. When can they start looking for Alt? Let him take control just for an evening, take a smoke break. Instead she found herself walking through night city alone, in the rain, shooting off random questions hoping it’d rouse him from whatever recess of her mind he’d hidden himself in. Nothing. No answers at all, not even a huff of frustration.
‘It’s fine.’ She thinks to herself. ‘It’ll be like that when he’s gone.’ And that thought brings out a burn in her throat. Something pained and sharp has burrowed itself in her chest and made itself home. V stops short at the corner about a block away, she leans against a light post and sighs.
‘You’re being weird again.’
It’s her voice but it’s not. The sudden realization dawns on her that Johnny could read her thoughts. It makes her feel exposed. She quickly runs the block home in the downpour, the rain soaking through her too big tank top and leather pants.
After fidgeting with the broken card reader, V stumbles inside her small apartment. The pink neon lighting and blue beaded curtains make it feel so homey, so lived in. She remembered the day she bought it, Johnny berated her about her lack of taste. V wanted to tell him about her luxury condo she had to give up when she got sacked, but a sudden wave of shame had washed over her and she simply answered with a small hum in agreement. Arasaka seems like a lifetime ago. Another life, another person, another V. Her Watson home was too painful to stay in after Jackie died, the memories of the both of them shooting the shit, Misty coming by after her shift with tacos and yakitori were all things of the past. The northside apartment had become like a sanctuary, she could be at peace here in this small shoebox of a room.
Just her, Nibbles and her tapeworm.
As she crosses the threshold, a friendly meow greets her. Nibbles jumps off the arcade cabinet and rolls on her back exposing her equally bald tummy. V chuckles and closes the door behind her, as she bends down to bless the feline with a generous scratch behind her ears, she can hear the familiar sound of Johnny’s static reappearing.
He groans and makes his way over towards the armory. V pretends not to notice him, not to be excited he’s left whatever shell he was in earlier. Instead she fishes out a pack of cat food for nibbles and walks over towards a small porcelain bowl.
Johnny immediately moves away and heads over to the bed, she watches him out of the corner of her eye. He’s a bit tense, wound up. As if he could sense her questioning gaze he simply lights up a cigarette. “I’m tired.”
“You’re tired?” V asks incredulously. Johnny’s static form stutters a bit as he shifts himself onto her small bed. “Well actually you’re tired. I’m just feeling it too.” He mumbles. V makes a face, this fucking guy. “I thought engrams don’t need to sleep?” She stands and walks over towards him, his legs planted firmly on the linoleum floor. A heavy sigh escapes his lips. “You really gonna fight me over this? Fuck V...” The bite he normally has in his voice is mostly gone, Johnny sounds exhausted, miserable. She sighs, the day's events hadn’t been easy on them, the sudden rainstorm plus the non working fast travel pods around the city only added to her frustration. If only her car wasn’t in the shop, she could have just driven home.
Nope, it was just her trudging through the rain. Now she’s home, dripping wet and muscles aching. V sighs, there’s no fight in her, hell she’s not even hungry. All she wants is a hot shower and sleep. “You can sleep with me tonight.” She mumbles. Johnny looks up as V begins to turn away, “ I know you don’t need to but…”
“But what?” He asks, ready to tease her. “Someone’s eager to get me into bed.” He observes her as she slips her boots off.
“You seem…I don’t know…off? Quiet maybe.” She says before disappearing into the bathroom. Johnny scoffs, before he knows it he’s in the bathroom ready to argue.
“As if I-“ he begins before he stops himself. V stands topless in front of the shower, her wet samurai top already on the ground, her hands on her pants zipper. She raises an eyebrow. “What? Never seen tits before?” She turns around and begins to remove her pants, Johnny knows he should fuck off right now, give her some kind of privacy. But something’s compelling him to stay, see what happens, V doesn’t seem to mind it.
“Wasn’t expecting to see yours.” He chuckles. “Didn’t know my little corpo rat was an exhibitionist is all.” V turns the shower on trying not to focus on the “my little corpo rat” comment, he notices the way her breasts jiggle a bit, they’re bigger than he’s used to, Johnnys always had a penchant for petite women, V’s musculature had been a bit of a turn off for him, recently he’s been rethinking that.
She turns to face him and something in Johnny’s chest tightens. She’s bare, with nothing but his tags on. Something about that does it for him, maybe it’s her lack of aggression or just how intimate it feels. “Not gonna take those off too?” He lifts his cybernetic hand and places his fingertip onto the tag, V can feel slight pressure there. She cocks her head a bit, “I’ve never taken them off.” She says following his wandering hand as it travels from the tags to her navel. She can feel him and she doesn’t know how or why, but she doesn’t want to think about it. She doesn’t want to ruin it.
V makes a motion with her hand, “You coming in?” Johnny is a bit stunned, he’s not used to V being so nonchalant about contact. Normally she’s very cagey about him being near her. He doesn’t blame her, especially since their meeting was terrible. He’s conflicted, but the need for touch is overwhelming. “You want me to?” He asks, hesitation sprinkles his words. V nods. ‘Yes’ she thinks and so he follows.
V stands under the hot shower, the steam feels so comforting, like a warm blanket hugging her. As she stretches she can feel her back bump into something solid. As she reaches back Johnny catches her hand, his ganic hand gently caresses hers. She hesitates but turns to face him, he’s there naked as the day he was born, only with the addition of that familiar blue static. She studies him, he’s definitely handsome, not that she wanted to admit that but something about his little grin tells her he already knows that. Her eyes wander from his dark brown eyes to his sloped nose down to his happy trail, she lifts her head to face him, not wanting to focus on the obvious.
“You look like you got questions.” He murmurs. V looks for her shampoo. “Can you feel the water?” He nods. “Yeah, feels nice, I guess it feels nice to you.” He moves to stand under the shower head, it merely goes through him but V supposes it adds to the experience.
She grabs the coconut shampoo and begins to work up a lather. Her back is towards him, “Where did you go?” She asked. Johnny notices a slight hitch in her voice, he watches as she scrubs her scalp. He steps in and replaces her hands with his, lightly massaging the product into her hair. “Can’t exactly go anywhere…” he avoids the question. V steps under the shower head, her back pressed against Johnny's chest. He watches as the shampoo runs over her breasts down her toned stomach. His hands move from her scalp to the sides of her waist, before he grabs her and presses her firmly against him, his mouth pressed against her ear.
V presses harder against him, he feels so real, so solid against her skin. The only difference is the lingering fuzziness he gives off, maybe it’s the static. “You…didn’t answer my question.” She manages to mumble out, Johnny simply hums “I’m here now.” His metal hand traces down from her collarbone in between her breasts. V wants to prod him, demand he tell her why he left her alone with her thoughts but his touches are so reverent, so gentle.
“I was angry.”
She turns to face him, Johnny’s brown eyes scan her face, he looks vulnerable, soft, uncomfortable. She grabs his ganic hand and presses her face against it, his thumb strokes her cheek. “Did I do something?” He simply shakes his head, everything pisses Johnny off to some extent. The shitty weather, his PTSD, the way Fuckin’ Takemura and River give her those looks when she’s not paying attention. V used to piss him off too, her selflessness, the way she’d always get involved in shit that didn’t concern her, her kindness. Her ability to just give parts of herself to anyone in need.
Now he’s before her, a starved man seeking it out for himself. He hesitates and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. V slowly allows herself to be soft, to be open for him. Love isn’t something you come across in Night City, it’s something you buy for an hour or two. But this isn’t that, this is something else, something that’s needed by both of them.
His kisses are rough, they’re desperate for dominance, to lay a claim on her. She can feel how needy he is, the way his hands press into her bruised back, how his fingers find those sore spots and rub into them. V lets out small pained cries, as she opens her mouth Johnny simply probes deeper. He wants all her sounds and cries, all of them. The good and the bad.
“V…” he whispers, her bitten lips skimming over his down to his neck, she bites into him like forbidden fruit and such as original sin she knows she’s crossed over into temptation. That pained thing that burrowed into her earlier is now growing between her ribs and it flutters so gently she can barely breathe.
How strange.
Johnny grabs V’s face and pulls it to meet his gaze. He wants to see her, needs to see her face when he’s worshiping her. Her eyes are hazed over, glazed in want and desperate for release. He plants more swollen kisses on her lips. “Let’s go to bed.” He whispers hungrily. V turns off the shower and grabs a towel. “Let’s go to bed?” She begins to towel herself off. Johnny simply grins and reappears sitting on the bed, he can see her though the beaded curtains and even though he’s mapped out her curves and scars with his fingers it’s still exciting to see only bits of her behind the blue plastic beads. Like a private show meant only for him, something no one else can have.
Because how could they? No one knows her like he does, no one ever could.
V emerges from the bathroom, her hips sway a bit as she closes in on Johnny’s personal space. “Sit on the bed.” He whispers in that whiskey’d tone. She does as instructed and immediately he appears on the floor in front of her, kneeling. Johnny’s not used to being subservient, but it feels so natural with V, so easy. Like he doesn’t have to be that “rowdy asshole rockerboy” everyone wanted. He’s simply Johnny, touch starved, pent up, needy Johnny.
He slowly trails his fingers over V’s thighs, it makes her shiver under his touch. “Know how frustrating it is watching you play nice with a pig and a corpo dog?” His tone is dangerous with a veneer of playfulness. V raises herself up on her elbows, she watches as Johnny kneads her inner thighs.
“Has Johnny Silverhand always been the jealous type?”
He chuckles, “Possessive might be the better word.” He spreads her legs out further and places a wet kiss on her clit. Her hips buck into his face a bit. “Fuck…” she gasps out. Johnny chuckles “Not yet, I wanna have some fun first.”
His ganic fingers circle her entrance, she’s already wet and dewy but he’s never been one to half ass eating someone out. He doesn’t want to rush anything. “Thinkin’ real hard down there, silverhand?” V’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Her half lidded stare and the way she runs her fingers through his tangled hair makes him feel alive again.
“I need you to ride my face.” Before V can protest or tease, Johnny’s already teleported under her. He’s taken the liberty to spread her legs as she precariously balances over his face. She holds on to the wall in front of her. “I-I’ve never done thi-“ Johnny licks a swipe over her clit and she shudders.
“Just relax.” He says as plants a tender kiss on her entrance. “Don’t think, just do.” He presses her wet cunt onto his lips as he moves her hips in rhythm. V holds onto the wall in front of her trying to set a pace for herself, worried she might hurt him.
‘You won’t, trust me. Ride my fuckin face like a cowgirl.’
Before she can even ask what the hell that means, his tongue makes its way inside her. “Oh fuck yes…” she moans as her hips move against him, her clit brushing up against his nose and moustache. Johnny holds her down even tighter against his face, sucking and tongue fucking his way through his host. He wants to make her see stars, to become so undone by his mouth alone that even after death, she’s ruined by him.
��Johnny…john- I’m gonna…” her hips swivel in that familiar way, her pussy tightens around his tongue, she’s looking for it, searching for release. He removes his tongue and replaces it with his fingers relentlessly pounding into her. “Come on V just let it go baby…” he holds her hips and presses his lips onto her stomach as she fucks herself above him. “Goddamn…fuck yes yessss…” she sighs as her climax washes over her.
V wobbles a bit as her legs give out on her. Thankfully Johnny teleports and reappears to help steady herself. She’s on the precipice of sleep, yet it doesn’t stop her from trying to crawl into his lap. He laughs a bit “what are you doin’?” V presses up against him, his cock nestled between her puffy lips.
“I wanna sleep on you like this.” She moves her hips and positions his cock at her entrance. Johnny watches as V slides herself on his thick cock, his girth makes it sting so deliciously. Johnny grins and lays back in bed with V content and filled on his chest. He spreads her legs out over him and slowly fucks into her. He throbs with each stroke.
“This how you want me inside you every night?” He asks, his lips hovering over her ear as he caresses her sore lower back with his metal hand. “Get home from running around this city? Fixing everyone’s fuckin’ problems…” He whispers in her ear as he continues to slowly pump himself inside her. Agonizingly slow.
“That’s what you want right? You want someone to take care of you too.” He grips her hips and plunges himself deep into her core. V calls out for him, begging him to go faster but he relents. “Nah, I wanna savor this, wanna make sure it only fits me from now on.” He bites her harshly and with intent. Savoring the wet sounds they share between them.
“How do you think people would feel? Knowin’ Night City’s golden girl is getting dicked down by the dirty old man living in her head?” He punctuates his question with another harsh thrust. V mewls against him and sobs “t-they wouldn’t….get it!” His pace begins to pick up as he holds her down and fucks into her used hole.
“That’s right, they wouldn’t…but we get it, right baby?” His forehead touches hers as he continues to fuck into her.
“Y-yeah…”
“Yeah? Because we belong to each other. From the day I met you, you’ve been mine, all fuckin’ mine…” he grips her throat with his metal hand and keeps a brutal pace. It’s a strange feeling, the agony and ecstasy of relishing in unhinged coitus, of bearing your ugliness out on the same table you fuck your lover on. It’s liberating because he knows what she’s thinking. There’s no guessing games, he doesn’t feel any fear, no hesitation, just complete and utter synchronicity.
Johnny knows he’s needs it and fuck if V also needs this as well. So he fucks her hard into completion, into submission, into a promise. A silent accord, for as long as they have each other. To have and to hold, to fuck and to kill, however the hell people pledge themselves to each other in this day and age. His very soul belongs to her.
The silence between them is comforting, only the sounds of rain drizzling outside and nibbles playing with the beaded curtains next to the minibar. V slides over to lay on his ganic arm, his heartbeat, his warmth, feels real. She shuts her eyes tight and holds onto him for dear life, as if he’d disappear if she let him go.
A whisper floats through her mind, “I’m not going anywhere.” He promises. He can feel her smile and press herself closer to him, less out of fear and more out of need. He lays and watches the ceiling fade from view, letting sleep take him for the first time in over 50 years.
#johnny silverhand#female v#cyberpunk 2077#cp2077#cyberpunk2077#my fic#oneshot#silverV#Johnny x female v#johnny silverhand x reader#I wrote this for me but y’all can read it too💖
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Genuinely trying to understand why a gay person would be supporting the party you do.
Not American myself but from what I understand there’s a lot of homophobia there.
It doesn’t look like Democrats are perfect either but at least less hostile to gays?
I'll dispense with my usual "Shut the fuck up European" image response because you do actually seem genuine, so here's my genuine answer.
Yeah, there's some homophobia on the right. Some. It's nowhere near what the media would have you believe. But there's homophobia on the left, too. The left just has the media and their ability to shape a narrative on their side. The worst thing I've had said to me by someone on the right was that they don't support gay marriage and think its a sin. Or that they think gay sex is disgusting. And that's fine. I don't like hearing about certain sexual acts myself and find them gross and weird. I don't need anyone else to approve or support my sex life.
And as for the part about gay marriage, I understand where most of them are coming from when they say that, too. They truly feel that their religious beliefs are under attack and that religious marriage is supposed to be between one man and one woman. But even many of those people will say that they don't really care if gays get legally married as long as there's some differentiation between the religious ceremony of marriage, and the legal institution of marriage, which are two different things. I personally don't need anyone to validate my marriage but me and my husband. I don't care if it's legally recognized. I don't care if it's recognized by any particular church. My marriage and my relationships are my own personal business. And there are a lot of people on the right who feel the exact same way.
So, that's the worst I've gotten from the right. Let's talk about the worst I've gotten from the supposedly gay friendly left. The following is not a complete list, but here's some of the things that I've been told by Democrats and other leftists when they find out I'm a gay right winger, both online and offline:
Kill yourself
Die faggot
You should be gay bashed
I hope you get raped by a closeted Republican politician
I hope your dog dies
Kill yourself
You're a traitor to all gay people
Kill yourself with one of those guns you love
I hope you get cancer and die horribly
I hope your husband dies
You should be sent to a concentration camp
Kill yourself
and basically every anti-gay slur you can possibly think of
That's what I get from the left, from other gay people, when they find out I vote differently then they do. Just based on these anecdotal experiences with the American right and the American left, I think it's pretty clear why I find myself on one side and not the other.
But!
I'm not a one issue voter. Gay issues are mostly meaningless to me. What I care about are personal freedoms, protecting my rights, and the success of my country on the world stage. Currently, the American right aligns with those beliefs way more than the left. That's not to say the Republican Party always aligns perfectly with what I want or believe, but the reality is we live in a two party system. Until enough of us get together and make a nationally viable third party, if the choice in presidential elections is between one party that I almost never agree with and whose stated goals are to violate my rights and destroy everything I love about America, and one party that does what I voted for them to do around half the time, of course I'm voting for the second party nationally.
Locally it can be a bit different. It's easier to effect local elections and policies just by being active, and in geographically close areas the differences between the people running for town council might not be as wide as two people running for president nationally, so I won't just vote the R party line by default. I've voted libertarian locally before. Hell, I even voted Democrat once. But, for the most part, it's the Republicans who I feel will do what I think should be done more than the other parties. And that's why I vote for them, and why I'm a registered Republican. Well, that and I want to be able to vote in the Republican primaries.
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Hey Sam. If you're so inclined, could you recommend a few 'must eat' places in Downtown Chicago? My hotel will be near the Red Line (Grand station) and I'm fine walking a good 10 minutes for awesome food. I'm planning my trip and trying to put together a few food places for lunch and dinner and such. Pizza, burgers, bbq, donuts, steak, sushi..., I'm flexible!
You know, honestly, I don't eat out much anymore so I'm not sure where the best places to get a bite are. I'm going to make some recommendations but they're about to be a mixture of "If you come to Chicago this is somewhere everyone goes" and "This is somewhere Sam personally likes to eat but which you may not go for." :D
So, if you're at Grand, you are pretty much on top of the Weber Kettle Grill. Weber Kettle Grill does GREAT grill food and my parents always want to eat there when they come into town. If you ask to sit at the chef's table, you'll be seated at what looks like a bar, but it also looks all the way down the row of giant indoor grills the chefs use to cook the food. If you want something quieter and less busy they also have a fairly large dining room.
If you want a real Chicago experience, there's a Portillo's pretty close to you (that one's called "Portillo's & Barnelli's"); Portillo's is a local chain that does burgers, dogs, and crucially Italian Beef. Italian Beef is my go-to Chicago food for people who (like me) don't want to eat Deep Dish Pizza. It's a crusty roll filled with shredded braised beef; you can get it with sweet peppers, hot peppers, or no peppers (they might call it "giardinera" which is the local term for the pepper relish they use). If you get it "dipped", once the sandwich is made it's dunked in a flavorful jus before being wrapped up; if you don't like wet bread I'd skip this, but I love it. If you REALLY don't like wet bread, maybe get a Chicago Style hot dog instead. Portillo's is also famous for being The Place Where they make you a milkshake with an entire slice of chocolate cake in it. You can also just get a slice of cake, which is fantastic.
There's also an Al's Italian Beef near you if you want a more local experience. Locals absolutely can and will eat at Portillo's, the food's not better at Al's, it's just a bit more tourist-friendly than Al's tends to be.
If you want that true authentic Chicago deep dish experience (pie crust filled with cheese and then topped with sauce) Pizzeria Uno and Pizzeria Due are very close by; they vie for the dubious honor of having invented the deep dish pizza. I can't recommend it, but if you want it, hit one of those.
If you're not from the midwest and would like to sample a decent approximation of Detroit style deep dish (thick bready crust topped with cheese and then sauce) Jet's Pizza likely delivers to your hotel. I can't recommend going to a Jet's, many of them don't have anywhere to sit and eat, and for a pizza joint they're a bit costly, but it's very good pizza. My Detroit friends say it's a perfectly acceptable pie by their standards.
Volare Ristorante is a nearby hidden gem if you're in the mood for upscale Italian; I really like their pasta, but they are on the pricier end. If you're walking east on Grand to get there, you do have to go under Michigan, and you will likely fear that you will be stabbed and left for dead in this weird underground cavern, but I promise you, it's smelly but safe.
Goddess And The Baker and Beatrix are both good places to pick up breakfast. If you wish to glimpse Hell, the Starbucks Roastery at Michigan and Erie is one of the largest buxes in the country (possibly the world?) and is a FUCKING NIGHTMARE to navigate, but it's certainly an experience.
If you're venturing into the Loop, Russian Tea Time is a fun place to have afternoon tea and the a la carte food is also quite good; they're very close to the Art Institute. There's not much to eat if you're going to the museum campus, and my favorite Greek place closed down, but Minghin Cuisine is a good Chinese place (I've eaten there) and AO Hawaiian Hideout is supposedly some of the best Chinese in the city (I have not eaten there).
If you are craving Chinese, you can also catch the Red Line directly to the Chinatown stop and browse, I've never had a bad meal in Chinatown. When you get off the train, if you go north to the station exit with only stairs, you can exit, look left, and see the "new" Chinatown that's basically an outdoor mall; if you go south to the escalator exit, once you leave turn right and you'll see the big pagoda entrance to "old" Chinatown, which is more shops than restaurants. New Chinatown has some excellent bakeries, and also a Korean fried chicken place, Bonchon, that's extremely good. Usually when I take friends we go to Joy Yee which has a huge menu and also bubble tea.
As a final plug I'll list The Berghoff, which is in the loop (off the Jackson Red Line stop); it's pretty hefty German cuisine, all excellent food, and also is a top notch place to take anyone with gluten issues -- the owners have a kid with a gluten intolerance and the restaurant has an exceptional gluten-free menu with unusually strict protocols to prevent cross-contamination in the kitchen.
And if you want to get a little baked first, you are pretty close to Sunnyside dispensary, which is a very nice dispensary with super friendly people. If you take the Red Line to Roosevelt or are in the area, Grasshopper Club is less expensive, just as friendly, and Black-owned, and they've been my go-to for a couple of months now. At either one you can walk-in to speak to a budtender about what you'd like, or you can preorder online, but be aware that there are limitations on what out-of-staters can purchase. Having sampled most of the gummies out there, I'd recommend Mindy's (any flavor is good but the black cherry is my preferred). Do bring ID, you will be carded.
I hope you enjoy Chicago! If you have more questions feel free to hit me up here or at [email protected] if you'd like to have more of like, a dialogue :) Have fun and eat well!
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A few miles from my house, there is a church where I take my daughter to get pumpkins every fall. As an atheist, I normally don't support churches, but this one doesn't bother me. My husband and I call it the gay church because they proudly fly a bunch of LGBTQIA+ flags out front, and their slogan is "A Place Where All Are Welcome." Their pumpkin patch proceeds don't go to missionary work; they go to supporting homeless teens and other actual charitable causes.
When we first moved here, the gay church would host various fundraisers for those charitable causes. One of these events was a family-friendly drag bingo night. Remember not too long ago how there was a big push by conservative groups to ban drag shows all over the USA? The gay church got caught up in that, suddenly becoming a target for far-right protests.
By some weird chance, I didn't drive past the gay church the day it happened. I drive past it most days, so I was surprised the next day when I saw the news. Neo-Nazi groups, including the Proud Boys, Patriot Front, and the Aryan Freedom Network came out to protest this tiny little church where we buy our pumpkins. Many of them were armed with assault rifles; some waved Nazi flags and gave Nazi salutes. Counter-protesters stood in front of the church with signs and pride flags, too. Police in riot gear had to keep them apart.
The local news reported that the two sides were at odds over "providing a safe place for all" vs. "advocating for children in the community," which is an absurd way of putting it, but sure. What struck me most about the reports, though, was not that they ignored the presence of the Nazi groups or carefully edited their footage to avoid showing any swastikas that were present. It was the non-Nazi protesters who came out to picket the church, themselves representing churches or other religious groups. Those protesters complained about being grouped in with the Nazis, whom they found despicable, and it made me laugh because... I mean, you chose your side of the street, didn't you? You might not be able to control who else was on that side, but you sure as hell had control over whether or not to join them.
That's how I feel about the people who voted for Trump in this election (and the last one, and the one before that). Trump himself has told us that there are very fine people on both sides, and to be honest, I kind of understand that. Everyone wants to think of themselves as a good person; even those who don't think they're particularly good still think they're at least right in their beliefs about the world. Everyone is the protagonist of their own life story, and few ever think of themselves as being on the wrong side of anything.
Maybe most of those Trump voters are very polite. Maybe they love animals and do charitable work and donate to causes that those of us on the political left would happily donate to. Maybe they make the best brownies you've ever had and always tip well. Maybe they're friendly with their neighbors even though their neighbors are immigrants. Maybe they are immigrants themselves.
But whatever else they might be, they picked their side, and it wasn't the side of inclusion or kindness. They crossed the street and stood next to the Nazis.
So to all the very fine people out there who voted for Trump, whether you did it because you sincerely believe that public schools are performing sex-change operations on children or whether you just wanted another fucking tax cut, recognize that you banded together with the worst elements of our society in order to achieve your goal. We on the left get taken to task for lumping you in with Nazis, but you lumped yourself in with them by choice. The Nazis are celebrating right now because of the decision you made. They couldn't have won without you.
Go sit in that for a while.
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Steel Magnolia
Ch 1| I don't mix business and pleasure
Pairing| Soap x Honey Rating| Eventual Smut Word Count| 1.4k Content/Warnings| The author is an American attempting to write a Scottish accent (I'm still dialing it in, RIP. If any of my readers are Scottish and wanna beta hmu lmao). Honey is one of those Reader/OC hybrid characters where it is established she is a southern American, plus sized nurse who is on the shorter side but has no other physical descriptors and should read as POC friendly (if I miss something, lemme know!) I have been wanting to write this for a hot minute and always was going to have the dialogue "I'm going to marry her", so seeing @glitterypirateduck have "I'm going to marry you" as one of the prompt options for Soap It Up pretty much solidified that I needed to have my first chapter for Steel Magnolia line up for the challenge!
This chapter is SFW but I am an MDNI account
Soap has an ever mounting suspicion that these blood drives are just an excuse to give the baby nurses more practice sticking people.
Like many in the military, he doesn’t consider himself a hard stick. All the time in the gym paired with a routine schedule on base, he and many other soldiers typically get nurses drooling over his veins like the weird little vampires that they are.
Lucky him- he’s got one of the FNGs, a skittish mess who seems terrified if he looks at her too long even though she’s the one with the damn 17g needle and he’s the one that’s got to sit there and take it.
A group of soldiers on the way out had been bitching and moaning about how the charge nurse was a raging cunt, and given how those soldiers were Americans, that has a bit more teeth to it than coming from someone more local.
He’s not entirely positive which one of the nurses is the alleged fire breathing dragon, but it’s fairly obvious which are the more senior nurses. Which only further reinforces his suspicions about being used as a pin cushion.
Soap’s a model patient as she scrubs his arm with the antiseptic. Even though he’s had worse happen in the line of duty, he still isn’t a fan of having a needle shoved into his arm.
He sits like a statue as she ties the tourniquet around his arm. Takes a sharp inhale and lets it out as she goes to stick him.
There’s no flashback, and the needle bites.
Fucking great.
He and the FNG both stare at the butterfly like the flashback will magically appear, Soap flexing his fingers in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort in his arm despite the logical part of his brain knowing that’s not how it works.
What the hell.
“‘S supposed to be stinging like that, nurse?” He asks, really as a prompt to make her do something to reposition the needle. He’s mindful of his tone.
The FNG blanches, like his words have dragged her back to the world of the living. She pulls the needle back before advancing forward again.
Nothing, again, but the bite from the needle stings even worse this time and he doesn’t totally manage to stifle the pained hiss that escapes.
Her nerves seem totally shot at this point, like she’s bracing for Soap to snap at her before turning in search of one of the more experienced nurses (which, in his defense, Soap does not believe he’s done anything to warrant that response). “Honey? Can I borrow you for a second?”
The nurse in question turns her head at the sound of her name and suddenly Soap is not at all concerned about the sting in his arm.
He can’t help that he’s got a type and it’s impossible to miss how she checks all the boxes appearance wise. He’s always been a sucker for a pretty face and a wide ass; given that Honey had been facing away from them, he’s got an excellent view of both when she reacts to her name being called. What can he say? He’s always had a soft spot for big soft girls
As she strides towards Soap and the FNG, he can tell by the look on her face that she’s already trying to judge the situation.
Maybe this is the nurse that got the American soldiers riled up (perhaps they had riled her up by snapping at the skittish FNG- all conjecture, but seems plausible enough to him). She’s more than welcome to give Soap that sharp eyed, cutting expression whenever.
Christ he hasn’t even said a word to her and he’s already got it bad.
“What’s up?” Honey asks and Soap thinks he hears a southern drawl but the two words aren’t entirely enough to confirm that theory. Definitely American though.
“His vein keeps rolling and I can’t get it. I don’t want to go fishing, can you get it?”
“Well I can always try,” she answers before reaching up for the station behind them for sanitizer and gloves. Definitely southern.
“Scooch,” she kindly instructs the FNG before stepping into her place beside Soap.
He knows he’s staring (there’s also a part of him keyed in to the fact that Ghost is watching from the next chair over) and he needs to act like a normal fucking person.
“I’m Honey, I’m one of the nurses. Let’s see if we can’t get this needle where it’s supposed to be, hm?” She introduces herself before feeling on his arm, the FNG hovering over her.
“Sounds like a plan tae me, bonnie,” Soap says, deciding immediately that he could happily listen to her talk for hours.
Her attention shifts to the FNG, and given how she’s got a hold of the wings of the needle he decides to let her work in peace.
“See how I've got these fingers placed like this? You wanna make sure you’ve got it anchored good so it doesn’t roll on ya,” she instructs while positioning herself.
“Then we’ll just pull back and adjust the angle real quick and-“ To her credit, he can barely feel the needle moving as she slides the bevel right where it's supposed to be, “there. Good flashback. Check it and hook him up.”
Clearly she managed to get the needle placed as his blood damn near shoots down the tubing when they let up on the twist to check it.
“Alrighty then,” she pauses, eyes flicking to where his name is on the screen before reading it out, “Sergeant MacTavish, you are ready to roll.”
He decides immediately he likes hearing her say his name and wants to hear it again.
“My friends call me Soap,” he informs her, sensing she’s likely going to wander off and wanting to continue the conversation.
The snort that escapes her is adorable. “How on earth did you end up with that as a nickname?”
It’s a question he often gets when he introduces himself. Soap is such a funny name and it’s all fun and games until he tells people “It’s cause Ah clean house.”
Of course, he’s learned to be very deliberate in how he announces that tidbit, and he’s mindful of it now. Gotta be careful when pointing out that he’s good at eliminating an obstacle. Usually giving his best smile and a disproportionately bright tone helps deflect from the implication of his answer.
Her expression quickly morphs to one of fair enough, although he’s still not quite ready to end the conversation and prompts her to keep talking.
“Assumin’ Honey’s not yer government name, how’d ye get that for a nickname?”
One of her eyebrows quirks up, and Soap finds himself holding his breath as she’s obviously assessing him. But he knows he’s a good looking fellow so naturally assumes she’s impressed with what she sees.
“Depends who you ask,” she answers cryptically. “Some will tell you it’s because I'm so sweet when the mood strikes,” Steaming Jesus he really could listen to her drawl for hours “and others will tell you it’s short for honeybadger. Depends on how I’m feeling, really.”
Welp, that’s it. He’s officially in love.
The FNG has him hooked and going as his blood drains, although Soap’s attention remains solely on Honey.
“What time does yer shift end?” He’s always dived head first for what he wants- and he is completely unashamed of how much he wants her despite not knowing she existed 15 minutes ago.
In an instant the pleasant not-quite-flirty tone disappears as her face slips into a more neutral expression, and Soap can feel the rejection coming before she opens her mouth and he just wants to know why when she was fine bantering with him a moment ago.
“Sorry soldier boy, I don’t mix business and pleasure.” She states simply before standing to leave.
Well isn’t this a shit situation for him. Given he’s tethered by the needle in his arm, it’s not like he has much choice but to watch her leave (although- if he’s being completely honest it’s not like he’s really complaining about getting to watch those hips move as she walks).
It’s not even like he’s an admit, for fuck’s sake, but Soap also isn’t a feral animal who’s going to yell across the room to get a pretty girl’s attention. He’ll get an opportunity to make his case.
“Oof, shut down,” Gaz ribs from one side, with Ghost incredulously chiming in with a “Whomp whomp,” at how Honey had so firmly brushed him off.
“Oh please. A’m going tae marry her.” Soap asserts wistfully.
“I’m no expert in women, Johnny,” Ghost starts and Soap just knows he’s not going to like what comes next, “but I’m pretty sure you need to get her to agree to drinks first.”
“Fair enough, LT.”
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
#Soapitup#john soap mactavish#John soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#x chubby reader#x fat reader#cod x reader#soap x honey#honey(badger)#my writing
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@windchaser requested I fill out a relations meme for high noon yone from talon's perspective, and I am nothing if not indulgent. and then I went and found the original post...
Attractiveness:
repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words
Let it be known that Talon will be the first creature to point out Yone's flaws after himself but we'll work on that but there's really nothing they can poke at with his looks, besides the undead elephant in the room. Even then though, 'lookin' good for a corpse' can easily be a backhanded compliment spun a hundred annoying ways. I'm not 100% certain on how you portray how Yone's spirit appears, but it is certainly a frightful thing to see. Demons are known to be afraid of gunslinger's, but usually not like this...
Personality:
grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted || egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible
Drags claws down face. This son of a nice lady. Talon has seen many cowboys like Yone; Selfless, determined, stuck in their moral code like tar to a feather, standing up for what they believe is right! The other thing they all have in common is being gone well before their time, y'know. Not everyone gets to stick around past that deciding incident, and have a chance for their one-pure heart to begin rotting. It's the kind of thing to draw in the worst sorts from everywhere, to prod and poke at the soft parts to see what snaps, and what withers away faster. It's a relief Yone only keeps good company.
How likely they would have sex with them:
not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex
I can only picture them posing in the background of Yone's reaction to this question, a shit-eating grin and a raised brow. You're kidding, right?
Level of Friendship:
never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends (in denial) || good friends (huh...) || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person (and denying it in unison) || would die for them (later on- wait what?!) || true friends || my only friend
Talon hasn't had a real friend before, not ones that are or were mortal anyway. They definitely have 'friends' that can fight and most likely best them, though. All to say, they're not exactly good at this whole new thing. Best if they both keep their distance and try to get this quest of theirs over and done with as quickly as possible to go back to tormenting and threatening to kill the other, respectively. Or fail and then it's over, too.
First impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird (fascinated) || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them (derogatory) || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool (derogatory) || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them (derogatory!) || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
Steeples my fingers evilly. Oh, that Crossroads Saloon is full of entertainment, so kind of the old barkeep to set something up tailor-made for their enjoyment. A twisted soul like his is a rare sight, even for their ancient eyes. Sorry Yone, it's just their nature to cause a little trouble. Think of it as a little taste of what's to come... afterwards.
Current impression of them:
I hate them so much (affectionate...) || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird (still fascinated) || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them (shh) || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
It's a full-time job, being a gunslinger's biggest annoyance and also a supportive shoulder for him to lean on. It seems fitting that the cursed cowboy gets a guardian angel that only fits the role on a technicality. Talon's still afraid of him and his promise before their truce. But not as much as their growing care for him.
How good of a kisser:
worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed
Even if it's walking around, mighty strange to kiss a corpse...
A little something for the little witch;
Attractiveness:
repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words
Talon rarely sees young people like her, or any younger. It's like a 'oh, right!' reminder to their existence. That despite it all, life miraculously continues on. Her naivety and wide-eye reaction to new experiences are cute, plain and simple. But beyond that her looks are not at the forefront of the demon's mind, usually preoccupied with her latest question, or admiring her metalwork and wondering if they can ask their own questions about it.
Personality:
grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted || egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible
As much as the thought of being asked countless questions sounds irritating, Talon just cannot find it in their black-ichor heart for Rell to be annoying with her endless quest of learning. It makes it difficult to keep things under wraps they would otherwise keep close and hidden. They like hearing her own ideas too, finding this strange place where... they choose to carry a conversation with her about their findings and theories. And although she's young and inexperienced, Rell is still very powerful with her magic and raw talent. This all makes Talon uncomfortable, in how easy it is for them to get along...
How likely they would have sex with them:
not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex
Just no. there are better things in life Talon can waste their time doing than calculating how many times over they are older than the young witch. But please, ask them for more advice on romance, and heed it well; a blade from a place of love has a lot of mean- wait where are you going?
Level of Friendship:
never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends (?) || my only friend
Head in hands none of you (the two of them) will ever understand what it's like to be a thing made of evil and then care for another creature's wellbeing. This is worse than Talon's fear that one day they'll be hunted down by the powder witch and the haunted gunslinger because unlike that, this care is a new feeling. It doesn't need to be said, but Rell is the first Talon considers a real friend. They don't care to ask if the feeling is mutual.
First impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
First introductions could have been far smoother without someone interrupting, but regardless, the girl has a sensible, if cross, head on her shoulders. And Talon can respect it. Whether this was before or after Yone's influence, they cannot tell, but it is still there in subtle ways. She certainly takes their journey down a different path than the demon was expecting, but they're more concerned about how her inclusion makes the gunslinger even more difficult to maneuver around. They can totally be trusted to ride Sebastian, though. It's a long, rough road by foot...
Current impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them (platonically, in a carer way...) || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
How good of a kisser:
worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed
there's gotta be better ways to practice romantic techniques out on the range. But if you're ready to listen to more romantic advice-
rating meme
#‡ ooc#‡ the end is comin' for us all | high noon#windchaser#floods the dash with cowboy content ig#yeehaw's for as long as it takes for this post to be read#my first time using coloured text because otherwise i was getting lost...#im not proofreading this i believe everything is correct 🙏 feel free to ask/ramble etc ehe#long post /
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Give me a Reason: Chapter 2- "Teacher's Aid"
“Uh, I guess.” She replied to N's question tentatively, causing him to light up again, he brought his schedule closer to her, and she held out her own.
“We have lunch together!” He exclaimed happily after a moment, Uzi could swear if he had a tail it would be wagging, he sounded so happy about it too, like he actually wanted to spend time with her.
The hell was this guy's deal?
“Looks like it.” She replied, her tone remaining the same despite the fact N's personality was somewhat weirding her out. Though now she was almost curious, what would it take for his friendliness to drop?
“We also have an english class and a computer literacy class together! Kinda looks like we'll be seeing a lot of each other!”
Triple Fuck
His smile was so beaming though that she turned to him to give him a wobbly, wary smile of her own and nodded, it looked more as though she was in pain then anything, but N didn't seem to mind or even notice.
Then, blessedly the bell rang, sending them off to thier first class of the day. N gave her a freindly wave as he got up to go off to his first class, but left his backpack sitting under his desk.
She stared at it, then back at his fleeing figure before deciding that yes, she did want to say something.
“H-Hey!” Oh fuck, that was way louder then she had intended, stupid fucking volume control. Still it did get his attention, as well as several other students, she did her best to ignore them despite their stares making her skin itch.
“You forgot your backpack…” She finished, volume much lower as she pointed to the boys simple black backpack still sitting at it's place underneath the desk, N looked at it for a moment, before he turned sheepish.
“Aww biscuits! Thank you, I'd loose my head if it wasn't attached!” He pulled it over his shoulder, gave her a very silly salute and then he was off again, Uzi felt herself fighting back an genuine amused smile, what a weirdo.
Her first class was math, witch for most students would be a living nightmare, for Uzi it was a dream, she really liked math, she was really good at math, she could pull equations out of her brain with ease, unlike most other things. It just made sense, math didn't change or have weird exceptions she had to remember, it was just fact, logic. And it was pleasing to her brain which liked routine.
Her height was both a blessing and a curse when it came to navigating the school halls, on one hand she was small enough to squeeze between the gaps between the sea of students, on the other, she was very easy to miss while walking, meaning she was bumped into often, making her more irritated even before she got to class.
Her irritation skyrocketed when she entered her class only to see the very last person she wanted to today, or any day honestly.
Lizzy was sitting where the the teacher normally would, looking down at her phone, a pink ribbon was tied in her hair, and she was wearing a black and pink dress that only barely adhered to the school dress code.
Why the hell was she here? She didn't need to be back here, who would willingly subject themselves to more school?
Her Math Teacher, Mr. Reese, was on the younger side, being in his late twenties, his fit the description of tall, dark, and handsome, being of Latino decent and having a well kept beard, paired with warm, brown eyes. And he came in behind the bulk of the rest of his students, looking slightly worried.
Lizzy looked up at him and smiled, getting up out of his seat and handing off some papers to him, his worry seemed to dissipate, and he smilled back down at her in thanks.
So, chances Lizzy was banging her Math Teacher? Definitely above fifty percent.
“Welcome everyone! I am Mr. Reese, I will be your Advanced Algebra teacher for this year. This lovely young lady here-” He gestured to Lizzy, who for now hadn't seemed to notice her number one victim in the class, and she smiled, Uzi thought she looked a bit like a shark. “Will be my aid and your's if you struggle, she's shadowing me to become a teacher herself one day, so I want you to be nice to her, alright?”
Nodding heads responded back, Uzi was not one of them.
Oh great, how great. The one subject she was good at and it was going to be ruined by this bitch, did she have to choose this class? Couldn't she choose a class she wasn't in?
On the other hand, the chances they were banging rose a little bit more, and Uzi couldn't help but snicker a little bit in response to that thought.
She did her best to avoid being seen, even though Mr. Reese had started to take attendance and was spouting off names, so it wouldn't last very long. Couldn't the universe give her a break? Hadn't she suffered enough at this stupid place?
“Uzi Doorman.” He sounded off, and the girl in question winced as Lizzy suddenly looked around, likely looking for her.
“Here.” She raised her hand lazily, no point in trying to hide anymore she figured, she looked to the side to avoid eye contact with both her teacher and Lizzy, but when she looked back in their direction, Lizzy was still looking at her, a shark toothed smile etched on her face.
This was shaping up to be a wonderful school year…
Even so, Lizzy didn't actually do or say anything to her for the duration of the class, and since it was just orientation, there was very little actual work to do. So she counted that small win as the bell rang an hour later to go to her next class. English.
She'd almost entirely forgotten about that strange boy in her homeroom, too busy in her own head trying to find some way to somehow transfer out of that class, even if she knew that was neigh impossible with her reputation. At least, until she heard her name.
“Hey! Uzi!” A bright happy voice came from behind her and she jumped, not used to hearing her name in any other context except with disdain or anger.
N came bounding up to her side, a bit like a dog who wanted head pats, and smiled at her, so large it stretched to his eyes, Uzi gave him a half-hearted wave in response, feeling unable to just ignore him.
“How was your first class? Mine was kinda weird… there was like… a deer head floating in a jar and it was kinda creepy.” Uzi snorted, managing a light chuckle that seemed to make N's smile a little brighter, so he must have Biology first, Mrs, Spark's classroom always was Uzi's favorite, with all the preserved animals in formaldehyde sitting on her shelves.
“She has a pig fetus too. Have you seen it yet?” She asked, the first peice of actual conversation she'd had with him. He looked at her, horrified in every way.
“What?! No! Oh no that poor piggy…” He scrunched up his fingers next to his face, looking sad, she couldn't help but laugh lightly at his reaction, he was so animated. Like a cartoon.
“Also it was, fine. I guess, there was someone I knew in it…” She answered, after the ice had broken she felt…a little more comfortable speaking around him, maybe it was just his attitude, it was a little hard to be moody when someone was constantly giving you thier sunniest smile.
“Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?” His face fell a little, passing friendly into something that almost looked concerned, but that couldn't be right, no one was concerned about Uzi Doorman, not even her old man.
“They don't… like me very much.” She answered, voice becoming wary again, she didn't need to give too much away, it's not like he'd stick around for too much longer, she gave it about a week, tops.
“Oh… well why not? You're hair’s pretty and you seem pretty cool!”
She squeaked, a pink filling her cheeks as she processed what he said. Her hair was pretty? And she was cool? This boy was delusional! But… for someone who didn't often get compliments, it did feel nice.
“You've only just met me.” She found herself saying, almost in warning, like she was telling him to stay away before he got hurt, or dissapointed.
“What's that matter? You haven't been mean, if anything you've been really nice!” He responded, clearly not taking it for the warning it was, she sighed, feeling a weight in her chest tighten even if she didn't know precisely why.
“You… have a weird standard for niceness.” She replied, and all he did was giggle, of course he giggled, he seemed the type.
“Maybe!”
They reached their class together, and when Uzi found her seat near the back he sat right next to her, before he looked around at the floor.
“Biscuits! I forgot my backpack again!” Uzi looked over at him, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. This boy was kinda forgetfull wasn't he?
“Is there anything important in it?” She asked quietly, and he seemed to dissolve into his chair in quiet frustration.
“No, not really, but now I don't have a pencil or anything to put the syllabus in.” He said sadly, holding his head in one of his hands, he tapped his fingers on the desk, clearly upset.
Uzi paused for a moment before digging in her backpack to find her pencil case, she picked out a purple mechanical pencil, one of the fancy ones with a grip and handed it off to him. He stared at it for a moment before another huge grin broke his face.
“Thank you, I'll give it back, I promise!”
Somehow Uzi doubted that, if he forgot his backpack twice already, he was probably going to forget to give it back, but that was okay, she wasn't particularly attached to that pencil anyway. And with his words, at least his intention was to give it back.
Sure enough, when the class ended at it was time for them to go their separate ways. He forgot to give it back.
Next->
#murder drones#biscuitbites#nuzi#uzi doorman#serial designation n#n and uzi#N has a way of worming his way into peoples lives#Uzi is not immune.
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༊*·˚ half a heart | saul silva
summary : after the mission in aster dell, saul thinks the best thing for you is for him to leave.
warnings : ANGST ANGST ANGST, mentions of stabbing, blood and cuts & signs of panic attack. pls lmk if i missed anything!
word count : 1k
author's note : BYE I SUCK AT SUMMARIES okay so uh this is a bit of an au, after the whole aster dell thing, saul stabs sky's father bla bla bla. this was actually so fun to write might do a part two LMAO i love pain </33 hope yall like this <3
── ⋆⋅☆ main masterlist
"What happened?" you asked, with furrowed eyebrows, and a face full of confusion.
It was a typical day, you were waiting for your fiance to come back from his classified mission. When you heard the door you jumped in excitement but the moment he stepped foot in the house you knew something was wrong.
His eyes had lost their light, he looked so tired, he didn't wear his signature smile that makes butterflies appear in your stomach, he didn't greet you with a kiss and he was uncharacteristically quiet.
His figure was trembling so you quickly made your way to him. You placed a hand on his arm, and the sudden contact made him flinch.
Your heart broke at his reaction. "You okay?" you asked again, "Hey talk to me sweetheart." but he didn't say anything.
The sight of his partner with a sword in his chest haunted his mind and he was so fucking scared if you'd see him as a threat when you know what he did.
His shirt was covered with dirt and grime. He had a few cuts of his face and he smelled like ashes. The bags under his eyes were red, it looked like he was crying. But before you could ask him more questions he stormed towards your guys' bedroom.
It startled you with his sudden movement so you waited a few seconds before following him.
When you got there, he already took out two bags that originally were used for a vacation. Some of his clothes were thrown in the bag and some of them fell onto the floor.
"What are you doing?"
You quietly asked, you were sick of asking questions that were never answered but you needed to keep trying. He started to move to the closet grabbing an arm full of his clothes and stuffing it in the bags.
You were so confused, your mouth was closing and opening, as you felt tears stung at the corner of your eyes. What was he doing?
"I'm talking to you." your tone was stern but you both could hear the shaky-ness of it.
He finally stopped what he was doing and turned around meeting your glossy eyes.
"Can we talk about this first?"
"There's nothing to talk about." he mumbled. His eyes met yours just as fast as it averted to something else in the room.
You scoffed in disbelief, "What the hell does that mean? You waltz in here, pretending like I don't exist, start packing and then you had the audacity to say that 'there's nothing to talk about'? "
Your hands were making weird gestures, trying to get your point across and you finally took a deep breath, calming yourself. "You're not going to leave me right?"
Saul lowered his head, staring at his feet, still not answering your question.
After an awkward long painful silence he finally said, "I can't do this."
“What-“
The sight of him taking off his engagement ring made a lump form in your throat. You can tell his hands were shaking, hesitation on pulling it off but he still did. It made your stomach drop as your breathing became choppy.
“I’m sorry.”
Your sadness replaced itself in anger as you snapped, "You're sorry?! What? I don't even get an explanation? After everything?"
He didn't reply to your question, only choosing to stare at his ring that was placed on the bed. You took a deep breath and aggressively wiped the tears that went down your cheeks.
"I genuinely thought you're my person." you spat.
The countless days where you guys would cuddle up together, talking about kids and buying a house in the countryside. All of the mornings where you would discuss names for your kids that would always end up in a friendly wrestling match because one didn't agree on a name. Plans for a garden wedding.
It was all for nothing.
"You deserve better than me." he mumbled, finally looking into your eyes. His heart broke when he saw the tear that escaped your eye.
"Isn't that for me to decide." you stated in a more softer tone. "Please don't go." you begged. The sniffles that hit his ears makes him want to bring you into his arms, telling you that everything's okay.
But he can’t.
He won’t.
"I have to, you'd be safer." he said, looking directly into your eyes. You could feel the pain reflecting in them, the battle his mind was having and the fondness he still held every time he looked at you.
He looked at you like you hung all the stars and the moons.
"What does that supposed to mean?" you confusedly asked. It didn't make sense.
"I can't risk hurting you."
He knows deep down he never will. He would never in a million years, in his wildest dreams hurt you like that.
"What do you think you're doing right now?"
That hit him like a truck. What was he doing right now? He continued to convince himself that you'd be better off without him. Convincing himself that leaving the person he loves most is a good decision.
You numbly nodded your head, “It’s stupid how I actually thought that you’d stay.”
And with those last words, he left and closed the door, taking half of your heart qith him.
Your knees became week as reality sets, making you drop down onto the floor.
He actually left.
Your fiance left.
Ex-fiance.
How are you going to explain this to your family and friends?
“Oh! He just left with no explanations, breaking my heart and my soul at the same time!”
Sobs wracking your frame, tears coating your cheeks, your vision was blurry and all you felt was endless pain. Your breathing starts to become shallower, and you know you're lacking oxygen. So, you tried to regulate your breathing, pulling your knees to your chest.
Saul didn't leave as soon as the door shut, so he could hear the first sob you let out. But he couldn't take it anymore, so he quickly rushed to his car.
Throwing his bags in the back as he sat down at the driver seat, hot white anger flooded him.
He made you cry.
How could he?
The only thing that made his life brighter. The only thing that kept him going.
He lost it.
He started banging the steering wheel in anger as he let out heart wrenching screams and sobs. The both of you lost half of yourselves that night, and you weren't sure if you're going to get it back.
reblog for a kiss! 💋
#⋆⋅☆ hana’s writing!#fate the winx saga#ftws#saul silva fic#saul silva blurb#saul silva#saul silva x reader#ftws silva#ftws x reader#ftws imagines#ftws fic#fate the winx saga silva
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