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yanderenightmare · 7 months ago

Note

soft boyfriend headcanons with Gojo plez🥺

Gojo Satoru ! Boyfriend Headcanons

TW: tons of fluff ig, Set in a real-life au

fem reader

EARLY STAGES OF THE RELATIONSHIP

He’s not joking when he says it was love at first sight.

But, obviously, you brush him off as a total player.

Not convinced by his confession in the slightest, you reject him multiple times.

Like, come on… that’s the school’s number one pretty boy, known for having a new girl on his arm every other week or so. You have absolutely zero ambition of being one of them.

You laugh at all his silly gestures—dumb pick-up lines at parties, flowers, chocolates, and letters in your locker, flirty passerby compliments to and from in between classes.

Oh, but then, cue the grandest of all gestures…

The public massive confession with banners, confetti, a lovesong in the background, and him with a megaphone in the middle of campus—professing his undying crush on you—down on both knees while begging you, “Please go out with me!”

You’ve never been more embarrassed in all your life. You feel like running away, but how could you say no in front of so many people?

And that’s how you end up on the first date with him.

He takes you to an amusement park.

You haven’t been in ages. It feels strange to be there on a date, older than any of the other kids you see running around with stressed parents on their heels.

It feels like a prank is being pulled. You’re waiting for the pig’s blood to fall. But halfway through, you somehow end up forgetting all about it.

To your surprise, Gojo actually seems like quite a genuine guy.

Sure, he’s more charm and flirt than deep conversation, but… you don’t know… there’s something really amazing about him too…

He doesn’t do anything inappropriate.

The farthest he goes is holding your hand when pulling you along to the next rollercoaster. And asks to have a taste of your ice cream. He tells you that you have to name the plushie he won for you, Satoru—then pokes fun at how he tricked you into finally calling him by his first name.

It's funny, but you’d always thought Satoru was a pigheaded jerk, but it turns out he’s actually just a silly boy.

And there’s something really endearing about it.

It scares you at first—how fast and easily you fell in love with him.

You hadn’t wanted to—scared he’d drop you like he’d done all those other girls who came before you.

But then you find out—he hasn’t really dated anyone at all—all rumors made by those obsessed with him.

Sure, he’s been confessed to plenty of times, but he’s not about to jump into a relationship with girls he’s never even seen before.

That would be crazy.

“In all honesty, girls like that kinda scare me…”

You realize your perception of Gojo Satoru couldn’t have been any more wrong.

And you only stand to be corrected again and again the more you get to know him better.

He’s the boy version of “I’m not like other girls”

He doesn’t like meat, he likes sweets—for every meal. It’s concerning. 2 am convenience store runs are a constant occurrence with him. It’s a wonder he’s got the body he has—it’s that boy metabolism.

At parties, he doesn’t drink beer, he’ll drink little syrupy things instead. Oh, and jello shots. If they’re all gone, bet that most of than are in Gojo’s stomach.

But he doesn’t need to be drunk to be clingy and cuddly and needy and not afraid to show it. However, he does get sloppier after drinking—all but draping you with his entire weight, kissing any part of you he can get his lips on.

He confesses his love for you every day, hugs you every time he sees you, then whines about how he’s missed you—even when it’s just been a handful of hours since the last time you saw each other.

When Geto tells the two of you to get a room, Satoru only looks at him sourly and sticks his tongue out—blowing raspberries like a child.

And probably the most surprising…

He loves anime and manga.

Which isn’t really too much of a surprise in and of itself, only… you didn’t realize the extent of his love. In fact, it’s better called an obsession.

He isn't a cool guy at all...

He's a total nerd!

The first time you see his dorm room—it’s a total mess!

Manga literally litters the floor and bed, even the tall bookshelf he has is prop full.

What’s even more surprising is that Shonen Jump isn’t in the majority. No, it’s Shōjo.

He tells you his favorite anime is Ouran High School Host Club and insists you watch it with him.

He sings the entire intro almost every single time—sometimes even the outro.

He says he identifies with the main character—which he obviously feels is Tamaki.

“You’d make a cute Haruhi, though—we should cosplay for Halloween~”

And he’s not even joking. He’s bought the costumes before you even agree.

Of course, no one understands who the two of you are supposed to be—dressed in the same school uniforms like two twins.

You also discover his harbored hatred for horror manga. Junji Ito gives him nightmares.

Though you managed to get him to read Death Note after pushing it on him for months.

He’s so cute—his only takeaway isn’t about the juxtaposing philosophies or any of the moral dilemmas but how “Suguru is so Light, and I’m definitely L.”

You find he’ll always do that—dib characters, almost always the main one.

It's a habit that reminds you of childhood, but it seems more than instinctual for Satoru. You don’t think he’ll ever grow out of it.

When he tells you he wants to be a teacher, you look at him with moon-big eyes.

He’s never seemed any interested in school—his grades are subpar, if not worse.

He never studies. There are no textbooks or the like on his desk, just more figurines and comics, as well as a dusty gaming station.

But when you take a second to think about it, the more it actually makes sense.

He's strangely great with kids. The girls all squeal over his charm, while the boys all cheer over his coolness.

You tell him he’ll be a great teacher, and he proposes to you on the spot.

SOME TIME INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

Obviously, you didn’t marry him back then. But you did finally accept being his girlfriend.

You live together now. Which is nice—not so different from living with your best friend.

Movie nights with candy and drinks—you’ve managed to sway him over to enjoy whine.

Rearranging things at home on a whim—often ending with a stupid layout—couch in the kitchen, where it will stay for a couple of days before you both find the energy to move it back.

You go shopping together and often end up buying things that don’t at all fit with the rest of the stuff at home—artwork, pillows, silly little decorations you just couldn’t leave the store without.

You share a lot of clothes too—hoodies, shirts, sweaters. Which he just loves.

He’s always gushing over you when you wear something he wore the day before.

He’s an ok cook. He can make the basics—wok, curry, ramen. His onigiri is never anything to post about, but hey, at least he actually cooks!

The clean-up is well… never small.

It doesn’t help that he’s always so sleepy after a proper meal, he just tugs you along to bed without putting the washer on.

Sleeping with you in his arms—all limbs tangled around you.

It’s funny, but you’d think with such a clingy lover-boy like Satoru, he’d come with a side of jealousy, but truly, you’ve never ever once seen that shade on him.

He’s excellent with all your friends and colleagues, even old friends and boyfriends you run into.

Instead of jealousy, he has this air of total ease—a certain smugness in a sense—as if there is nothing to worry about.

It's a trust that he puts in you—a quality that makes him seem so mature even when he often acts anything but.

Being with Satoru is strange. You often forget how old the two of you are. Somehow, he still acts the same way he did when he was in high school.

Taking you on amusement park dates, or to the movies to watch a children's film, or for ice cream in the park like you’re still teenagers.

He did end up becoming a teacher, though. Gojo Sensei.

Sometimes, he makes you call him that in the bedroom.

He teaches at the same high school you went to. He even brought home a girl’s uniform for you to wear.

You told him he was crazy if he thought you’d agree to that, but then… it was his only birthday wish.

“You’re just as cute as you were back then—I can’t believe you’ve stuck with me all this time—I love you so much—”

Ten years older, and he really hasn’t aged much at all...

Sometimes, he still cums in his pants after dry-humping.

Surprisingly, he really pulled his act together to teach both physics and gymnastics while sometimes subbing for philosophy.

It’s crazy, but he actually manages to make physics fun for the students. Several of them, even after graduation, still keep in touch.

It almost feels like the two of you already have kids.

But, of course, it’s nothing compared to when you actually see those two blue lines signaling your pregnancy.

You’re alone in the bathroom, rereading the instructions over and over.

You hadn’t wanted to tell Satoru—he’d only insist on watching you pee and being there for the entirety of it. But now that you know for certain it wasn’t just a hunch, you really wished he was in there with you.

“TORU!” you yell.

You hear the struggle of slippery steps as he rushes, coming bursting inside in seconds. “What!?! What is it?! Are you okay?!?”

You only hold up the pregnancy test you’d kept secret you’d bought.

His eyes are as wide as they’d been when you’d agreed to move in with him.

“We’re pregnant?” he all but cheers.

The smile that erupts on his face is nothing short of ecstatic as he kneels before the toilet you’re sitting on, hands holding your thighs as he buries his face between them, chanting “Oh my god, ohmygod, omigod—” between kisses. “You’re serious? We’re really pregnant?”

When he looks up, he’s crying. “That’s so great—”

You have to cup his face in your hands for him not to fall apart.

And the sight is all so reassuring, you have to laugh through the tears on your own face.

You spent the entire day in bed. Satoru with his cheek against your belly and arms wrapped around you, and you with your hands running through his hair as you both discuss baby names.

Surprisingly, it had come as a complete surprise. Not just being pregnant, but the entire gist of it—having kids.

Both of you have been so wrapped up in each other for the longest time—the thought of any other party had been completely lost.

On the other hand, you haven’t even gotten married yet.

Satoru doesn’t even have a ring, but he proposes to you then anyway.

And even though it’s so impromptu you have to laugh, you still say yes.

After all, you haven’t been able to imagine your life without Satoru for a long time.

Actually, you can’t even remember ever living a life without him.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

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d0llcuries · 2 months ago

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ICE-CREAM FOR TWO

pairing(s): reiner braun x fem! reader

summary: you hated him for dragging you to marley, for every stolen chance at freedom. you expected the feeling to be mutual as you rented him for four long years but it wasn't. what better way to address this than ice-cream!

author's note: uh, i guess i write for aot now. blame my cousin and her insistence on getting me addicted to this stupid show for the possibility of inaccurate writing. i love reiner pls send requests for aot 🤲🏽

the market cradled you today in a way almost cruel, with its heat and grit pressing close, air thick with burnt coffee, iron on the breeze, syrupy traces of cotton candy and caramel inviting you into the hic et nunc, although you didn’t want to be. you hated this noise, this heat, the whole crowded mess of voices folding together like waves. you hated how it almost felt like home. you hated how you could almost trick yourself into calling it that if you tried hard enough. a mirror showing something soft, distant, something that could’ve been yours in some other life. no matter how warm the market held you, the truth settled somewhere beneath it all. this land is borrowed, marley is not home, and no amount of rose-tinted glass could change that.

under a washed-out sky, baskets burst with flowers like muted fireworks, children racing in loops, dogs tangled and nipping at their heels. you thought about reiner before you saw him. he was sitting across the square, shoulders hunched as if he were carrying every brick and stone of marley on his back, the same as he’d carried those in paradis. he looked like he was far away, somewhere only he knew how to reach. you still saw that ghost of the soldier you thought he was back then, before everything came apart.

you’d told yourself you wouldn’t go near him, wouldn’t let him know that, after all this time, you’d never quite stopped noticing him. you wonder why you think of him so much, why he takes up all this space in your mind even when he's not near. it was strange how close you were and weren’t, your lives spooled together and then split, moth-eaten like old twine.

but then gabi’s voice broke into your thoughts.

“hey, yn! can you buy us ice cream, please? come on, it’s not far! the ice-cream stand's like.. right around the corner, and i haven’t had any in soooooo long!” gabi stretched out the ‘so long’ ensuring that you felt every inch of the ache that came from a whole season without the taste of frozen sugar. she practically sang, her sticky hand finding yours and pulling before you’d had a chance to respond.

before you knew it, you were standing at the old ice-cream stand, faded to a dull blue, the wood bleached and splintering under too many hot days. the vendor, an older man with sunburned skin and tired eyes, barely lifted his gaze as he rattled off the list of flavors available.

while you hadn’t chosen this home, you chose these people, or maybe they chose you in some inexplciable way. the days of resentment, the times you’d longed to be anywhere but marley, softened over time. gabi, falco, and udo, each of them with their bright, trusting faces had managed to bring out a warmth in you that you’d forgotten was there. you hadn’t planned to love them, but they’d worked their way into the little cracks between loneliness and anger, without effort or warning. it felt like love. you loved them.

“please, please, please?” gabi’s voice tumbled out, each please more insistent than the last. you pressed your lips together, trying to chase away the smile that wanted to break free, but there was no stopping it. the vendor cleared his throat, glancing at the line of customers that was growing behind you, and that pressure paired with gabiʼs nagging commenced the immediate collapse of any resolve you’d held and any remaining choice you had.

“alright, alright,” you murmured. “three, please,” you said, “two caramel swirls… and a chocolate.”

you pull the coins from your purse, and slide them across the vendor’s counter, a quick glance past the crowd where you know reiner’s somewhere out there, not close but close enough. you dig back into your purse, pull out enough for an extra ice cream, and place it on the wood. “and one more, vanilla.”

the vendor didn't blink. he handed you the cones with a practiced indifference, the soft edges already drooping in the heat, melting faster than they should. gabi snatched hers right away, giving a quick “thanks!” but not really looking at you. she didn’t need to, her appreciation was in her wide-eyed grin and the way she immediately started devouring the cone as if she’d waited years for it. udo took his with a quiet “thank you,” glancing at the cone like it was the first good thing he’d seen all day. falco gave a small nod, not meeting your eyes, as if the simple gesture was too much kindness to take all at once.

you glance at the extra cone in your hand, and you think about the boy—no, man—you had brought it for.

your gaze flickered to the square, and there he was, his silhouette made of pale, ghostly gold and all the fragments that cling to it. the blond of his hair catches and curls like a match struck in silence as he rests on the bench with moss staining its feet in a green kiss. “stay close. don't wander off,” you murmur to gabi and the boys, a mother’s instinct in a stranger’s affection. the market seems to swell as faces blur into patches of color and shadow.

usually heʼd be the one buying them the sweets, trailing behind like he belonged to the children, not the other way around. he’d slip coins to the vendor, barely seen, to make sure the kids stayed kids, get them something sweet to carry home sticky on their fingers. his presence made the kids feel safe. that was his gift to them.

he didn’t see you, not at first, lost in whatever he’d wrapped around himself, his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes focused on something far off, his expression pulled into that mask of solemnity that’s so familiar it hurts. there’s a ghost of a frown in his brow from spending too much time thinking about things he didn’t want to think about. it was only when you were close enough that he looked up, startled, it was clear he wasn't expecting to see you. there was a tension in him, he sort of resembled an animal caught between choices, wanting to flee but rooted to the spot.

“i thought you’d want one,” you said, holding the cone out. it wasn’t often that you spoke to him this way, or at all. not about something as simple as ice-cream.

he stared at it first, then up at you. for a heartbeat you thought he might actually refuse it, let the ice-cream coat your hand with melted stickiness just to spite you for they way you resented him for the past four years.

“they give that to you for free?” he said, his eyes drifted somewhere just beyond the market stalls, like he was only half-invested in the jab.

something in his tone snagged, left a thin, invisible cut. he had every reason to say it, you supposed, but it still bruised in a way it shouldn’t. “no,” you shot back, trying not to let his offhand remark knock too hard against the satisfaction you’d felt just moments ago. “i bought it for you.”

with a breath soft as surrender, he looked up at you, and you could feel it, the way he saw you, had always seen you, from the days you were both cadets stumbling through ranks and routines. he’d always thought you were pretty, even when thought you didn't interact often.

the word devil was supposed to define you. reiner was trained to see you that way, to let a thick wall of prejudice stand between you both, forged over years of lessons and oaths. in marley, they pressed that word into people like you, used it to shape you into something repulsive. it was easy to believe it as a child, to see you through the war-stained images they painted, to think of you as something marley’s soldiers had been trained to conquer and devastate. but somehow, that wall never felt as solid with you. he tried to keep it up, you could tell from the way his gaze would shift from warm to cold so quickly, his jaw setting hard as if he was gripping some old lesson, forcing himself to remember why he wasn’t supposed to care. and you hated him for it as much as you didn’t. it was like he had stolen every sense of belonging from you, yet kept a fragile piece of it alive in himself, offering it back in little moments you refused to trust.

he’d always figured he’d have to wait, maybe forever for that forgiveness, if it came at all. for four years, he’d held onto the hope that one day you might look at him without that burning hatred in your eyes. over time, he’d let that hope slip through his fingers, learning to live in the shadow of what he thought he’d ruined.

but now, standing here, he felt something he hadn’t dared to let himself feel in a long time. the way you looked at him was different—not hardened or distant, but softened, like there was warmth in you meant just for him. it was subtle, but it caught him completely off guard, a look that lingered a little too long, the edges softening just enough for him to see something he’d once believed was lost.

he wanted to say something, anything, to reach out, but he found himself rooted, afraid to break whatever delicate understanding hung between you. he’s always been so careful with you, so mindful of your boundaries. your gaze didn’t waver, and he felt it like a quiet ache, as if, finally, there was a chance your view of him had changed.

he took the cone with hands that were larger than you remembered, rough and scarred and cracked in places. in his grasp, the small offering looked absurdly delicate.

“thanks.”

you settle on the edge of the bench beside him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin, but not quite touching.

“you didn’t have to do this,” he said, his voice subdued, as if he was suppressing emotions that he couldn’t articulate.

“i wanted to,” you reply simply, the words soft but steady, a quiet confession hidden in plain sight. it’s not much, just a simple act of kindness, but it feels like more than that, like a tentative step toward something new, something neither of you quite knows how to name.

“i’m not good at this,” he admits after a long pause, the unexpected confession falling between you. he doesn’t look at you, eyes locked on the melting drip tracing a path down his knuckle.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “good at what?”

he’s quiet for a moment, so quiet that the hum of the market seems louder, pressing in from all sides. when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost hesitant. “being close. to anyone.”

you shift slightly, your knee brushing against his leg. it’s so slight it could be an accident, but it’s not. “well, you’re here now.”

he looks up at you then with an unconcealed reverence that makes your heart lurch in your chest, eyes softening around the edges, holding that mix of confusion and hope that makes him look almost boyish. “yeah, i am.”

the silence stretches, but this time it’s warm, inviting. you can see him wrestling with something, the way his jaw tightens, loosens, the way his thumb traces a line across the wood of the bench as if trying to ground himself.

“it’s strange,” he starts, eyes flickering to yours before darting away again, “this..” he nods to the space inbetween you, “feels like more than i deserve.”

your gaze lingers on him, and you swallow back the pool of savila resting on your tongue. “maybe we’re both not good at this,” you whisper, a shy honesty threading through your voice. “but i think we could be.”

he blinks. “you think so?”

“yeah,” you say, the word barely more than a breath but heavy with everything you mean. “i do.”

and for the first time in years, he lets himself believe it.

#reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun aot #reiner braun x you #reiner x reader #reiner x you #aot #snk #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader

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sageluvsjoel · 3 months ago

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A Birthday to Remember

(Part Three to "A Different Kind of Miracle")

jackson!joel miller x reader x autistic! daughter

Requested HERE

masterlist

summary: You and Joel celebrate your daughter’s birthday in Jackson and have to navigate it together.

wc: 1.3k

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

i do not authorize plagiarism or copying of my work!

It was the first birthday she could really understand. Your daughter was now three, and this birthday felt like a turning point. She was growing fast, becoming more aware of the world around her—and her place in it. So you and Joel had decided to throw her a small party, just a gathering of close friends and neighbors in Jackson. Nothing too big. Nothing too overwhelming. At least, that was the plan.

The sun hung low over the town, casting a golden light across the square as people trickled into your yard. It was a perfect day for a birthday—warm but not too hot, the breeze carrying the faint scent of the flowers that lined the fences. You’d set up a long table with snacks and decorations, a simple cake in the center with her name written in soft, delicate icing.

Joel stood off to the side, watching as you helped her with some colorful balloons, her small hands grasping at the strings with delight. You caught his eye and smiled, your heart swelling with warmth. It wasn’t just the party or the weather—it was seeing her so happy, so alive. Joel had been more anxious than usual today, though he’d been trying not to show it. Birthdays, especially after everything that had happened in his life, were both a blessing and a source of quiet fear. He was grateful for every day she grew older, but the thought of her growing up in a world like this gnawed at him.

As more people arrived, the little yard began to fill with soft chatter and laughter. Tommy showed up first, bringing along Maria, who had a gift in hand wrapped in bright, mismatched paper. Ellie was close behind, holding a small stuffed animal she’d been saving for this occasion. She gave a mock sigh as she handed it over to your daughter, who beamed up at her with wide eyes. “Happy birthday, kiddo. You better like that, took me forever to find it.”

Joel chuckled at that, ruffling Ellie’s hair. “She’ll love it, don’t you worry.”

Ellie grinned, but her eyes shifted to Joel’s daughter, watching her with a mix of amusement and affection. The bond between them had been slow to grow, but it was solid now, the way big sisters and little sisters naturally were. Even though Ellie was rough around the edges, there was a softness she reserved just for her.

The party started off small, just as you’d hoped—your daughter flitting around the yard, alternating between her new toys and the few kids who came by with their parents. She stayed close to you and Joel, her face lighting up every time someone handed her a gift or said, “Happy Birthday.” You could see she was happy, in her own quiet way. But the closer it got to the cake, the more she started to cling to you, her small fingers wrapping around your arm.

“She alright?” Joel asked softly, watching as she tugged at your shirt, wanting to be held.

“She’s fine, I think,” you said, though you could feel the tension creeping in. Her behavior was subtle, but you knew the signs—she was starting to get overwhelmed.

Ellie nudged Joel’s side. “It’s cake time, right? We gonna sing or what?”

Joel’s face twitched, torn between the moment and the anxiety that had been brewing in his chest all day. He glanced at you, and you gave him a nod, signaling that everything was okay, for now.

“Alright, let’s do it,” he said, forcing a smile.

The cake was placed in front of her on the table, the small crowd gathering around to sing. You watched her carefully, her wide eyes scanning the room, her fingers tapping on the edge of the table in that way she always did when she was anxious. The moment the first note of “Happy Birthday” was sung, you felt her body stiffen next to you.

“Happy birthday to you…”

The noise, the attention, the sudden burst of voices all around her—it was too much. Her eyes darted around the group, her breathing quickening, and before the song was halfway through, she let out a small, high-pitched whine, her hands flying up to cover her ears.

“Happy birthday, dear—”

Suddenly, she let out a loud sob, and the song came to an awkward, stumbling halt.

Your heart clenched as she buried her face in your chest, her small body trembling, the meltdown hitting hard and fast. Joel’s eyes went wide with panic, his hands hovering helplessly for a second before he rushed over.

“Hey, hey, baby girl,” Joel said softly, kneeling down beside you. “It’s okay, it’s okay. We’re right here.”

The crowd backed away, giving her space, but their concerned murmurs filled the air, making the atmosphere feel heavy and stifling. You held her tightly, whispering soothing words as you rocked her gently.

“I’ve got you,” you murmured. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just too much, I know. I know.”

Joel shot a glance at Ellie, who was standing nearby, her face a mix of worry and confusion. “Ellie, can you—”

“On it,” Ellie muttered, already stepping in to quietly usher people away from the table, shooing them with her hands. “Alright, folks, party’s over here. Move along, nothing to see.”

Tommy and Maria helped her clear the area, and soon the space was quiet again, the voices fading into the distance as people moved to the other side of the yard, giving your family privacy.

Joel reached out, rubbing small circles on your daughter’s back as she continued to cry, her little fists clenched tightly in your shirt. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice tight with guilt. “I didn’t think—”

“It’s not your fault,” you said softly, shaking your head. “We both thought it’d be okay. Sometimes… it just happens.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes filled with that same helplessness you’d seen too many times before. “I hate seein’ her like this.”

“I know,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But we’ll get through it. We always do.”

It took time—long, slow minutes of calming her down, of rocking her back and forth, of speaking to her in soft tones. Her crying eventually slowed to sniffles, her body relaxing in your arms as she curled up against you, utterly drained. She wasn’t fully back yet—she was still lost in her own world, overwhelmed by everything—but the worst of the storm had passed.

Joel reached out, brushing a lock of hair away from her damp cheeks. “You’re okay, baby girl,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”

Ellie came back over, a small, sheepish grin on her face as she crouched down next to you. “Think I scared everyone off,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. “You guys okay?”

Joel nodded, though his expression was still tight, his shoulders tense. “Yeah… I think so.”

“She didn’t like the singing,” Ellie said with a small shrug. “Can’t say I blame her. That was a lot of voices.”

You let out a quiet laugh, even though your heart was still heavy with the aftermath of the meltdown. “Yeah, it was.”

Ellie glanced at your daughter, who was now resting her head against your chest, her eyes half-closed. “You want me to grab her some cake? No singing this time, promise.”

Joel let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Thanks, Ellie. But maybe later.”

Ellie gave a mock salute and wandered off, leaving the three of you in the quiet of the yard. You and Joel exchanged a look—one filled with all the unspoken words you didn’t need to say. This wasn’t easy. It never would be. But you had each other. And as much as the world had thrown at you, you’d learned how to weather the storms together.

“I think next year, maybe we keep it small,” you suggested, rubbing gentle circles on your daughter’s back.

Joel nodded slowly, his hand still resting on her shoulder. “Yeah… small sounds good.”

But for now, all that mattered was that she was here, safe in your arms. The rest of the world could wait.

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#the last of us #the last of us 2 #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller fic #ellie williams #pedrohub #pedro pascal #tess servopoulos

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fangirlanxiety74 · 5 months ago

Note

TELL ME ABOUT TED. Headcanons you have for him, anything... Can be silly or serious.

Someone... SOMEONE'S ASKING ME ABOUT MY HEADCANONS?! IT'S BEEN YEARS SINCE SOMEONE'S ASKED ME ABOUT MY HEADCANONS!! HOLD ON, I MADE A DOCUMENT!! /ref/hj

In actuality, I did genuinely make a google doc. But it's not ready to be shared yet, so I'll share the highlights.

First off, the game manual lies. He is NOT 44. He's 33 at OLDEST. I kind of consider him more like 29/30. Just barely.

He grew up in South Carolina hehe, farm boy

Bisexual disaster but I think this is kinda just obvious.

He is the oldest between him and his 5 siblings!!! And adding onto this, he is SUCH a good older brother. I don't care if everyone else disagrees, he could be the worst man alive but the one good thing someone could say was that he took care of his siblings.

If you know Ayano from Kagerou Project, I think he's a lot like her when he's younger. Like 8/9 years old. He tried so hard to protect them all from their parents and keep them happy. He'd sacrifice so much for them, it's why he kinda,, went into the extreme of being so,, entitled as a grown up. Ykwim???

Just imagine. With the ice caves, moving without thinking to save the others before himself? His brain subconsciously doing what he knows best; sacrificing what he has for others.

Selflessness as a core trait for Ted, please.

Another thing relating to his siblings: He knows how to do ballet!! And he's REALLY good at it. He actually has a lot of fun doing it. One of his sisters wanted to, but she was too afraid to take lessons alone, so he went along with her in secret. Didn't get caught for years. (She stopped lessons once he got forced out of them)

He talks a little like a New-Yorker, or at the very least, that transAtlantic accent (yk like from the old movies?) to try and play off as that kind of guy like Great Gatsby.

His actual accent is Southern. Sometimes it slips out when he's like, extremely flustered/angry, but it's such a rare thing.

He can't stand the sound of someone crying, it immediately makes him angry. Take that, and yk, Ellen or Benny constantly crying... Yeaaaah. (This is also due to his siblings).

This is obvious, he forces himself into doing a lot of masculine things that he doesn't like to appear older/wiser/better, insert whatever word you wanna use that translates to "I am insecure about myself" lol

Okay this last one is really important to me and like. It. Needs its own special paragraph. He is a creative person in his soul. He loves to learn, he loves to write, he loves to read and dance and sing and draw and he has such a huge imagination and love for creativity. You can see it in his psychodrama with how it plays out like a full-blown Grimms Fairytale, the monster he imagined that no one else could see, the line in the radio drama "Am I the last storyteller, telling the last story...?"

He's a storyteller. He has so much to say and share, and he would've done something creative with his life if he had the option, but the abuse he faced and the societal expectations placed on him forced him to,, give it all up. Made him realize he could never have that. Which is why, at least in the game, AM chose him. Ted had so much potential to create, and just... gave it up. For seemingly nothing. Why wouldn't that make AM mad, who can't create, can't even imagine or wonder?

AKA Theatre Kid Ted canon, let it be known

I have like, also. I have a somewhat-AU of Omori for the ihnm cast, and Ted takes the role of Basil. I think Dream Basil vs RW Basil fit a lot of what he is as a kid vs an adult, or at least aspects of both due.

I also have a Hadestown AU of him with my self-insert where he takes the role of Eurydiceeee.... Like. Guys, Hadestown fans, hear me out. Ted singing "Flowers." AM singing "Hey Little Songbird" to Ted. PLEASE HEAR ME CAN YOU HEAR ME??? ARE YOU LISTENING??? /J

There's so much more I can say but this is getting so long I will definitely share more if people want nfjkdc bUT THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #ted ihnmaims #sara speaks :3 #ihnmaims ted #the grip this man has on me ffs #i think about him so much it's unhealthy #i need to like #kill him

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gatitties · 1 year ago

Text

Mute: O7. Fight

O1. Flowers / O2. Friends! / O3. Study / O4. Ice-cream / O5. Sick / O6. Locked up / O7. Fight / O8. Friends? / O9. Grateful / 1O. Wishes

@chiyoso

It could be said that nothing was going right that day; you woke up late making your appearance more sloppy and disheveled than usual, you were scolded with the punishment of cleaning several classrooms and you got a low score on an exam. Nothing worse could happen, right? As soon as you left your class you received a message from the girls in the club, they seemed quite worried about you, as if something had happened to you. You reassured them by sending several messages, they told you that someone had entered the area where they planted the flowers without permission, so you ran there quickly.

You didn't even realize that the guys from the team saw you run desperately towards your club and followed you. When you arrived your eyes opened, some plants were destroyed without petals or crushed, the land with fertile soil completely removed causing destruction, the fertilizer scattered all over the place and the most remarkable thing; on the wall was a word written in what looked like red paint.

Monster

Your brow furrowed at the written word. What did that mean? Your companions looked at each other, sighing heavily, they explained that someone had surely entered leaving everything upside down to give a warning, they were not sure but they believed that that person did not like that you were friends with Tendou.

The girls looked behind you to gulp, there were some of the volleyball boys, including Tendou who was looking around the room with narrowed eyes and a weird expression. Seeing this, they told you that it would be better to start collecting tomorrow and that, for today they would only inform the director. When you faced the boys you just lowered your head, gave them a thumbs up to inform them that everything would be fine, they just nodded without much confidence to walk to the convenience store as usual. Right now you were in a corridor together with the redhead buying some snacks, but there was a strange silence, normally he used to talk freely about his things no matter what but he was just quiet.

«Are you okay?»

He looked at you for a few seconds to brush your hair with a vague smile.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

He grabbed his things to go quickly to pay, leaving you a little disconcerted by his behavior, you blinked back to reality, taking advantage of the fact that Eita was passing by, you tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, writing quickly.

«Something wrong with Tendou?»

The boy looked at you feeling a little uncomfortable, even so he replied that usually people pick on him or push him away for having that bad appearance, you thanked him with a nod. The time you had spent with Semi was enough for Ushijima and Tendou to reach the entrance of the campus where there were more people who were probably leaving their activities. You ran to catch up with them but tripped over a stone on your way, luckily a boy saved you from kissing the ground.

"Oh, you should be more careful."

He smiled kindly although something inside you told you not to trust him, he seemed familiar to you, maybe he was an honor student in some class you helped with the flower decorations because he seemed to know you. You bowed indicating that you would go to the side of your friends, who watched the scene.

"You shouldn't hang out with that team, they're too weird."

Somewhat disconcerted you looked at him, his friends nodded, you denied wrinkling your eyebrows.

"You are too fragile, we will treat you better."

You denied again, causing a sour expression on the contrary.

"Do you have a problem with our friend?"

Your savior Shirabu intervened, you mentally thanked him for his salty personality right now.

"I don't think it's convenient for you to mess with people older than you, little boy."

"Little boy? At least I'm not as mononeural as you, surely you're in class one, or do you have a poor scholarship?"

Apparently he was right to see how the boy got angry causing an arrogant smile to slide over the setter's features. This action further pissed off the other one who was preparing to hit the second year if it wasn't for a roaring laugh that stopped everyone.

"How nice, Shirabu playing the hero."

The redhead put a hand on your shoulders, giving a vague nod of greeting, earning disapproving looks from the teens.

"Let's go, we don't want to cause problems for old Washijo with fights."

He excused himself to drag you to where the others were but they pulled on your arm strongly, your face hit the chest of the boy who helped you before, your cheeks inadvertently dyed with embarrassment.

"Don't put her in your things, monster."

Tendou narrowed his eyes looking at you, you were starting to get uncomfortable about the situation.

"You should let her go."

His voice sounded deeper than usual.

"Oh yeah? I don't want someone like you to hurt her, she's too helpless."

"Let her go."

"Force me."

From one moment to another you were pushed towards one of the boy's henchmen seeing how they hit Tendou, you didn't even notice when Shirabu pulled you to his side and how Ushijima stopped the fight. You felt bad seeing how they looked at him, how they had treated him and how he did not defend himself despite the blows, you felt his pain and that oppressed your heart. the worst thing is that you couldn't do anything else because they took him to the infirmary, you really felt as if they had hit you instead of him.

#reader insert #hq #haikyuu #fem reader #shiratorizawa #tendou #tendou satori x reader #mute fanfic #mute reader #tendou fanfic #tendou x fem reader #sfw #haikyuu x reader

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milflewis · 1 month ago

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n krisgeno + 39. avoiding a conversation and 46. confessions during an argument

put them in a situation prompt game

Bonded soulmates haven't been banned from extreme sports since the 2012 Equal Play Act. In 2019, You Can Play did a segment on them. There were seven active confirmed Bondeds, Flower being one of them, and Sid smiled his media smile through a soundbite.

Kris takes his bond suppressants religiously. One with his coffee in the morning and one at night with a glass water before brushing his teeth.

Geno doesn't. Soulmates and the Penguins, in the beginning at least, if not now too, are the only two things Geno openly defies Russia on.

—

"I'm not take them anymore," Geno says, shrugging. Neal's cards look small in his hands.

"What?" Kuni's isn't the only shocked face around the table. "What the fuck do you mean you're not taking your suppressants?"

Kris shuffles his cards around. He ate before getting on the plane and is starting to regret that decision.

Geno gives him a look. "I'm take before. Not take now. Is easy peasy."

Rows ahead of them, Flower and Sid are sitting, suddenly silent. Kris had hoped when the talk of soulmates was first brought up Sid would shut it down like he sometimes does in his 'Let's Not Make People Uncomfortable, Team' voice. He hadn't, and now Kris is going to have to listen to Geno explain exactly why soulmates are so wonderful and the universe's gift to each person and they should be treated like the sacred moments they are.

"But." Kuni's cards are slack in his hand. Kris glances at them. He has got a pair of Jacks. "Okay, so. You're just walking around, and what, waiting for a bond to snap into place?"

Geno shrugs again. The speech doesn't come.

Nealer's eyes snap up from where he was staring at the table. Geno doesn't meet them.

"What if it happens in a game?"

"It won't," Geno says, short.

Kris traces the edge of a card with his nail, slipping it under and digging it in.

"But, how do you –"

"Hey guys." Kris hadn't heard Sid walking over. Judging by the way half the guys at the table jump, he is not the only one. "How's the game going?"

There's the voice. Better late than never, Kris thinks.

Kris lays down his third straight flush of the flight to a chorus of groans and swears about his mother. Sid squeezes Geno's shoulder twice before heading back over to his seat.

—

Kris has no idea what to say to Geno after Sochi. He calls over to his house randomly a handful of times, bringing loaded sandwiches from that one place Sid banned Geno from going to during playoffs. Geno puts extra pickles on his from the jar in his fridge. They make their way through all of Fast and the Furious, half of the Die Hard's, and two of the older X-Men's.

He texts Flower to remind him to invite Geno over for dinner, even though that isn't really something they do.

What do you even want me to say?

IDK Get your kids to tell him about their day. Let him play with them. He's just like Sid come on

V says I'm not allowed to whore out our children until they are eighteen sorry :(

I hate you

Make him laugh, Kris doesn't say. He takes a bond suppressant dry, and goes to brush his teeth. Flower sends him a row of smiley faces.

Flower gives him a pitying look before the next practice, and trips him up when he skates past the goal during a drill. Ice shavings fly up in front of his face and Geno is standing there, looking down at him. He is grinning, cheeks flushed.

"Why you're dive? Think maybe learn bad habit from Sid." Sid's overly fake laugh is loud behind them. Kris accepts Geno's hand up, staring him down, daring him to take the chance to drop him. Geno's smile widens. Years later, and his cheeks still bunch up the same way.

"Careful," Geno murmurs, holding onto Kris's gloved hand. He pulled Kris in close as well as up, his usual lazily bored disregard to personal space. Kris has to tilt his head back to look him in the face, it is fucking ridiculous. "Ice very hard, you know? Easy to break face. Sid dive, eh, okay, but Tanger....hmm, too pretty, yes?"

Kris shoves him away. "Wow, G, so original."

Geno laughs at him, swatting at his ass with his stick before skating back to the other side of the rink where Coach is glaring at them.

"Mon ami," Flower starts, sounding positively delighted.

"No." Kris scoops his helmet off the ice, shoving it back onto his head.

—

Kris misses a morning.

—

"How did you know Papa was your soulmate?"

Kris's mama hums, crouching down on her heels. She pulls at the laces in Kris's runners, tightening them around his feet. He wiggles his toes.

"I just knew," she says, tying his laces in two loops. "He wasn't there, and then, there he was. It was like it suddenly started raining for the first time, or when right as the sun comes out. There is one thing, and then there is another."

"Okay." Kris hates the rain. He doesn't mind the sun so much.

She is tying his other shoe now, pulling the laces tight and knotting them together.

"And then you loved him?"

"Hmm, no. That came after, like with everything."

Kris frowns. "Okay."

She laughs. Her fingers are cool against his cheeks when she tugs his hat down around his ears.

"You will find them someday, mon petit."

"No." Kris shakes his head. "I want to play hockey."

—

He takes two that evening and prays. His hands don't shake when he lists his glass of water to drink.

—

"Lunch after?"

Sid has got his I Am The Captain look to his face again. Kris didn't get much sleep last night. It must be showing. His head aches dully.

"Yeah, sure," he says, not bothering to try to argue. A mistake. Sid's face becomes even more captainly. Kris can't bring himself to care. If he hurries up with his skates, he can get on the ice before –

Geno's laugh is heard before the man himself is seen. He isn't facing the locker room when he pushes the door open, head turned to look behind him as he shouts something at someone.

Kris inhales. He pulls his jersey over his head. When he blinks against the bright lights Geno is looking straight at him, gear bag hanging loose in his left hand.

The puck hits the back of the net. The lights stay on. The locker room is too far into the arena to be able to tell if it is raining outside.

"You," Kris says, unable to stop himself. His voice sounds weird, like it echoes through him before coming out. The room falls silent.

"Tanger, what," Sid says.

"You miss," Geno says, careful.

"G?" Sid asks, because he always fucking asks Geno, even now, maybe especially now, and the thought is a dirty one, but sometimes it feels like they are the only kind of thoughts Kris can have anymore, and he hates it, and he hates them, and he hates him, and none of this is new, why the fuck isn't it all new –

Geno doesn't look shocked is the thing. Not really. Not this bone deep shake that Kris is feeling throughout his body. There is some surprise in his face, maybe, around his eyes, but it is more a resigned oh, so this is happening now then, than anything else. He is holding himself like he is bracing for a hit. The leggings he is wearing makes his legs look even skinnier than they are.

"You knew," Kris accuses. Geno makes a bitchy face at him. Kris could snap his stick clean in two over his head.

Rusty blows out a loud breath. "Oh, fuck."

"Oh." Sid's voice is quiet. "Oh." No one else says anything at all. Geno is still staring at him. Kris feels nothing from him. His head is no longer sore. His eyes are itchy.

Some of Geno's curls are peeking out from under his toque. He didn't tell Kris that he was going to get the procedure done, just showed up at training camp with more hair than he has had in years. It was hard not to see double of Geno for a while. Kris had walked around for a month with that gaping feeling you get when you don't think there is another step but there is in his stomach. It had been made very clear that no one was allowed to make jokes about The Hair. Kris ragged on him about it for three days straight before Geno threw his shoes at him, knocking the breath out of him and bruising his hip.

"No," Kris says, and Geno's eyes gleam like a cat's. Kris gets the strange feeling that he has proven Geno right somehow, like Geno has won here for all that he has also lost. There are no games that Kris hates losing more than ones where it has less to do with their skill and more to do with the other team's fuck ups.

"Fuck you," Kris tells him, and he could be shaking with it. "Fuck. You."

The ice is empty when he skates onto it, the first out.

—

They keep the same seats on the plane. Neither of them stop playing cards, though Geno begs off to nap on more flights than he used to.

Kris thinks that half the team, the newer ones, are more surprised that Kris and Geno are obviously not talking about it than the fact that they are soulmates at all.

It is a glimpse into how others see them that Kris normally doesn't get. Or particularly look for.

He isn't sure what to do about it.

—

Kris doesn’t answer Flower’s calls. He lets his phone ring and ring.

He has never been able to lie to him.

—

"You knew you weren't Sid's."

It is not a question. Kris still can't quite say out loud that Geno isn't Sid's soulmate. Even now, it feels wrong. Like public skating rink ice at the end of a day. Like those months when Kris and Flower were the only two out on the ice.

If anyone was going to do the impossible and have two soulmates, it would be Sid. Kris has never met another person who wants as much as Sid does. And if anyone was going to follow him, it would be Geno.

Geno blinks. "Yes."

"When."

Kris digs his fingernails into the tape of his stick, leaning on it casually. Geno holds his water bottle over his face and squeezes. He catches most of it in his open mouth. He wipes the rest of it away with the back of his hand. His chin looks wet under the rink's lights.

"Long time," Geno says. "Like, very long."

Kris meets his gaze, wondering if he is going to continue with the obvious dick joke. Geno's hands twitch.

"I'm think maybe, at Prague?" Geno sighs. "Like, when they're play, you know? Look like is everything."

Kris thinks he might have preferred the dick joke.

Geno could be talking about the weather, or whatever new weird reality show he is currently watching. There is no longing on his face or in his voice. Kris swallows around the anger stuck in his throat.

"At Worlds, there no teams, okay, and I don't know." Geno shrugs, fiddles with his bottle top, flicking it up and down. "With Philly, with Pittsburgh, there so much shit. No room for, like, them. Just Captain Penguins and Captain Flyer. Everything is so loud. Everyone always booing and fight and yell. At Worlds, Sid and Giroux is like, only them." He grins up at Kris then, tongue poking out. "And Canada. But, you know, Canada only small, quiet, so who care?"

Kris stares at him flatly before snatching his bottle, ignoring Geno's offended "hey!" He sucks down half of it, feeling suddenly loose and shaky with it all. If Flower were here, he would make this better. If Flower were here, he would make this so much worse.

Geno is watching him with a face Kris can't read when he lowers the bottle. Kris squirts the water into his face, and skates away before one of Geno's long arms can catch him. Geno's exhale could almost be a laugh.

—

So. Sid told me what happened. This is a good thing btw. In case you didn't know.

—

They won't make the playoffs this year. No one says it in the locker room but they all know it is true.

You always have a limited amount of years to play hockey. Kris knows that as well as anyone else. Better even after everything. He is coming to the end of the tunnel.

Rusty is leaning against Sid's stall, cheeks flushed from the shower, and laughing. Geno is throwing balled up socks in Sid's direction. Sid keeps batting them away so they hit Rusty instead. Kris can hear Geno say something about Sid coming to Russia in the summer, "Like, July, Sid! Stop panic, no jinx!"

Kris tightens his laces, double knotting them.

—

"What the fuck," Kris says calmly, and he isn't shouting, he isn't because he isn't angry. Why would he be? How could he be? Kris knows Sid will always be Sid, and Geno will always be Geno, and Kris doesn't even want them to be anything different. He doesn't. He isn't angry. "Was 'Only for Pittsburgh. Always with Sid' supposed to mean then?"

His chest is full, stuffed to the brim, and there has been a ringing in his ears since Geno pushed his hand through Sid's hair before practice, teasing.

"How is that not a love confession?"

Geno is frowning at him. He is still in his winter coat. There is a large ornate gold framed mirror hung up at the end of the hallway behind him. Geno's god awful xenomorph statue on the porch outside can be seen reflected in it.

"Is love," Geno says, and Kris could bury him alive.

"Not soulmate." Geno shrugs one shoulder. His face hangs tired. There are lines in the corners of his eyes. "Is, like. Sid and me. Just, love."

Kris looks down at his hands. He is still holding onto his car keys. They are digging into his right palm. He was the one who followed Geno home after practice, and into his home, and started yelling. He hasn't taken off his shoes yet. He could just leave.

Geno's fingers are strong around his wrist, and his jaw is set and tight. He looks furious, but Kris has played with him long enough to recognize when Geno has decided that he is going to do something, and fuck the consequences. Flower used to make siren sounds in the goal when it would make an appearance during a game.

"Like, okay, Sid and me, we not. I'm not pick Sid. Sid not pick me. We." Geno cuts off, a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. The Russian swears that come out next are too fast for Kris to catch. "Sid and me, is like, right, always. If different, maybe, always still same."

"Yeah," Kris says. "I know."

Geno pulls a face that suggests he doesn't think that Kris does know but he isn't going to argue. Kris raises his eyebrows at him. He has not spent this long around the both of them, loved them for this long, to not know. Fuck Geno, and his fucking face.

"You different. I pick you."

Kris's knee aches. It has never done that before.

"You not easy," Geno says, eyes creasing at the corners. "Like, so not easy. You annoying, like hedgehog, you hurt, and hair everywhere! I'm like you more when Flower here, and I'm think someday you kill me, maybe."

Coming here was a mistake.

Sid couldn't talk right for weeks after he broke his jaw. Kris eyes Geno's face, the end of his chin, the line of his jaw.

"Really? This it?" Geno has let go of his wrists. When he takes a step back, his shadow stretches out long behind him. "Follow me, yell, lie, stomp foot, make me say and now you're say fuck all? Years, you say and not say no, shush, Geno, not say, not allow, but now, now is fine. And you still! Still, fuck all."

"I don't –"

"Tanger, stop, stop." Geno looks angry now. "Stop lying. Stop pretend. We too old. Okay, maybe you think oh, maybe, Geno Sid's, maybe, maybe. Fine. I’m give. But you not so stupid. I'm know you think maybe not also. Maybe not Sid."

Kris stands very still. His fists curl at his sides, keys digging in. Geno meets his glare.

"You scare, okay, me too. But you use Sid and hide. Is not fair. Have to stop."

"Fuck you," Kris spits. It is a sharp reaction, a knee-jerk to the sentiment that Kris would use Sid for anything, be like everyone else, that is faster than Kris expected to have.

Geno rolls his eyes. "I'm know you see me look. I'm know you think maybe too."

"Do you?"

"Yes," Geno says. As easy as anything.

Kris could stop him right here. He could cut open his chest with his car keys, right where the penguin on their jerseys rests. He would stop talking. Kris wouldn't have to hear this.

"I'm hope, you know." Geno looks away here. The sunlight from outside highlights the wrinkles in his sweatpants. Kris has the sudden thought that it should be pitch black outside. "When stop with pills, think what if now, like, what if I'm not take but you're-"

He laughs, shrugging. "Nothing happen, obviously. Still hope though. Still think what if."

Kris stares at him. He inhales deeply. He slips his keys into his pocket.

"Right." He looks Geno in the face. "Okay.” He shakes out his hands, presses his thumb into the marks left on his palm. He can feel his blood rush under his skin.

Kris has never done anything backwards. He played hockey, and he played more hockey, and kept playing, climbing up the ranks. He was drafted and learnt to be a Penguin, was rookie and then veteran. Was one of the guys and then one of the guys with an A. He does things in order. There is a path that most guys in the locker room take, the good ones at least, and Kris took it and has stayed on ever since. He is not Sid. He is not Ovechkin. He is not G.

The rest is supposed to come after, Kris thinks, and isn’t sure where the thought comes from. Here, the rest came so much more before.

“Okay, yeah. Yes.”

And then: “You’re more annoying than I am, though. Ask anyone.”

Geno's smile bunches up his cheeks.

#the doc for this is titled: ' own goal' bc i make myself laugh and thats all that matters #these are supposed to be flash fics. there is 3k words here. i need to be put down #mishmash prompts #krisgeno #flash fic #niamh.asks

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roadkillremi · 1 year ago

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Uncle!Randy Meeks HeadCannons

Holiday edition!!

(^i want to pounce Jamie Kennedy in this^)

MasterList Uncle Randy MasterList

Summary : Just Holiday stuff

(Christmas, Thanksgiving, Valentines, Halloween)

He's so sexy yum yum.

Halloween

He loves Halloween. He decorates the house and watches scary movies all month.

Depending on Chad and Mindy Age he'd show them different movies. At first Corpses Bride, Monster House, Goosebumps, etc. He doesn't want to give them nightmares.

Couples costumes are a must. He somehow finds a costume that you two can be. (Chucky and Tiffany, Jack and Sally, Frankenstein and bride of Frankenstein)

He takes Mindy and Chad trick or treating. He does this their whole childhood. Until Chad goes, "Trick or treating isn't cool anymore.". It kinda hurt his feelings :(

You know those stupid horror attractions. He goes to those. When Mindy and Chad were younger it was just you and him. And as they got older they tagged along.

He likes hayride trials. He gets so happy.

Christmas /Winter

Ugly christmas sweaters are his thing. And he rocks them.

He dressed up as Santa for little Chad and Mindy once.

He eats the cookies. You make Christmas cookies, bam gone he ate em.

He likes snow. He's a pure child and loves snowball fights. He will not be afraid to throw a snowball at a child.

Favorite Christmas movies ; Elf, scrooge (the scary cartoon one), Santa clause with Tim Allen, the Grinch with Jim Carry.

The idea of him being a director and making a scary Christmas movie gives me yummy thoughts. Just saying.

He tells Chad and Mindy Santa isn't real. Like in 4th grade. They cry and he gets fussed at.

He's a good gift giver. He will find the perfect gifts for everyone. He gets too excited when he finds you the right gift. He gives you most of your gifts early anyway

He doesn't like those stupid advent calendars. He gets impatient and eats all the chocolate. So when Chad wants one he just stares the kid down. And goes "Uh, I ate em all-"

He doesn't do ice skating. He'll try but then not do it. It scares him. He panics and grabs onto you.

He wears those Christmas boxers. They're so sexy on him I mean come on. It's him.

He definitely gets everyone those candies that look like coal. (He got them a lot as a kid.)

As much as he seems to enjoy Christmas and winter. He hates the movies and music. Hallmark makes him want to hit someone. So when someone suggests it he is not happy. He stands there going, "No. There are better films."

Valentines Day

He showers you with gifts.

You'll walk in the door and find flowers all over the place. (If you don't like flowers then it's candy)

He'll do everything perfectly. It's like living in a movie. He has a nice/favorite restaurant. The sentimental gifts, flowers (even helps you dry them if you're into that).

Thanksgiving

He doesn't really cook.. but he'll for sure help.

You'll have to kick him out of the kitchen eventually.

He considers himself an official taste tester.

He loves the macy day parade-

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eyesofshinigami · 6 months ago

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WIP Weekend!

I was tagged by the always wonderful @shares-a-vest, so here we go!

The Rules:

In a reblog (or a new post w/ rules attached) post up to five (5) file names of your wips. Not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

The WIPs:

Teenage Dirtbag: where Eddie is a lot a bit of a creep when it comes to Stevie Harrington, but wouldn't you know it, but she's kind of into it too?

A/B/O Rarity: Where the Alpha and Omega genes are incredibly rare, but with Steve's luck, he's one of the few people who's got it. He hides it for years, until he can't/doesn't want to anymore, especially after he meets Eddie, who is the only other person he's ever met who also has the gene.

Adventures in Babysitting: another A/B/O idea where Eddie is an older Alpha and needs a babysitter/nanny for his young son, and cue them meeting Steve, the incredibly hot, young Omega babysitter who immediately pings every box he's ever had.

As for a snippet, here's one from Teenage Dirtbag that's a wee little spicy.

Things changed again, after that. Stevie abandoned all her old friends, stuck by Nancy and Jonathon Byers of all people, the three of them looking haunted and weary in a way that stuck in Eddie’s mind like a splinter in his finger. Gone was the ice princess who roamed the halls of Hawkins High like royalty, and instead was a girl who looked like she had Seen Some Shit. Eddie knew that look. He saw it enough in the mirror when it was a bad night.

And still, it didn’t wane. It got worse again, where Eddie pictured himself as some kind of black knight that would ride in and make everything better. He thought about getting her flowers. Or asking her if she wanted to go to one of his concerts and watch him play. Wondered if she would like having a picnic by the quarry, where he could get his hand up her skirt and kiss her and tell her that she was a supernova that had completely consumed him.

But he didn’t. Maybe there was too much Munson in him, too much of a coward to try and reach out and touch the untouchable. Stevie Harrington was always going to be the pipe dream, even more than Corroded Coffin getting discovered and him hitting the big time. Especially because she was graduating, and Eddie was still stuck spinning his wheels in this lame-ass school because he couldn’t figure out how to get his head out of all of his imaginary fantasies.

She was probably going off to some rich-kid school on a coast somewhere. She’d probably find some blonde-haired blue-eyed guy named Chad or Kevin or something and get married, pop out kids and live in the suburbs.

Until she didn’t leave. Until Eddie was fucking assaulted with the sight of Stevie Harrington in a tiny sailor’s uniform, slinging ice cream at the mall. That skirt was criminal, even more than the stupid tennis skirts she wore to school all the time.

His thoughts took a turn for the worst, sitting outside Scoops Ahoy like an absolute asshole and just drooling over the thought of bending her over the counter. Thinking about pulling her into the freezer and fucking her until neither of them could move, her clawing at his back and pulling at his hair and telling him what a fucking freak he was.

No pressure tags: @ghostinthelibrarywrites, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, @marvel-ous-m, @devondespresso

I'm sure people have already been tagged, if you have, please poke me and I'll go take a look!

#wip weekend #les writes things

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waitingonher · 6 months ago

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pjo please!

male!

okay so i’m a very extroverted person, i’m an entp, aquarius and a daughter of hermes! i feel like i talk a lot but alas i’m just a yapper. i’m a very goofy person and i tend to be really clumsy too. i smile a lot, and i make jokes all the time. i have a darker sense of humor but i tend to be a little bit emotional. i have adhd and anxiety and i’m pretty smart, i’m either really tired or really hyper there’s really no in between. i like to randomly dance or randomly sing. my favorite season is autumn and i love road trips and movies. i wanna work on screenplays/direct movies when i’m older! i have medium length faded red hair, blue/green eyes and freckles on my whole face but i have a lot more under my right eye. i’m 5’3” and have an upside down smile (legitimately) and ummmm yeah! 😁

physical touch is my number one love language and then quality time, and words of affirmation are my second and third!

i love skateboarding, listening to music (i listen to like everything except stuff i don’t like 😭😭) i also love flowers and taking walks/nature, i hate the cold tho bc i feel like i’m cold all the time, i love road trips like i said earlier but my favorite hobby/intrest is film. film is my life! i watch so many movies and would love to write one someday, but for now i’m only doing reverse screenplays for practice hehe.

ironically not the cinema because i feel like you can’t talk and get to know each other. i think a walk in the park with coffee or ice cream would be my ideal first date. you can get to know each other and there’s really no effort or money needed!

my TYPE is blondies with blue eyes but i doesn’t really matter to me, they have to be taller than me tho. they have to be funny, and sweet, and takes initiative to do cute things and like be there for me and call me cute names and stuff yk like act like a bf.

thank you!!!! <3

your matchup is . . . jason grace!!

if you and jason had a trope it would definitely be sunshine x grumpy, except jason’s not even grumpy, he’s just on the quieter side lol!

he’s always there to listen to your rants about anything and everything, his focus as sharp as if he were on the battlefield. it could be the stupidest conversation ever, but jason’s still nodding along, as if the soggy pancakes at breakfast were the most important thing in the world.

jason’s favorite parts about you are your smile and your freckles!

there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to see that favorite smile of his. the way your eyes light up so beautifully makes him think that you’re somehow related to the sun. because of this, jason subconsciously compares you two to the sun and the moon. whenever he spots little trinkets of the two, he buys it no matter the price or the line in which he has to wait in. couples with matching sun and moon keychains stay together!

sometimes at night when you two are cuddled up, jason decides he absolutely must kiss every single freckle on your face. his warm hands hold the sides of your face as he peppers millions of kisses across your face. sure, it tickles, but who are you to say no to your boyfriend’s kisses? especially when he tells you that he’ll stop loving you when he’s done counting and kissing all of your freckles (jason’s lost count).

jason who supports your hobbies with every fiber of his being! if you’re one to be open about your ideas/the screenplays you write, then just know that he’s listening to and reading every single one of them. he loves how creative you are, and him being able to see what your mind can create is one of the many blessings you’ve given him.

if you were to ask for any feedback (he rarely finds that you even need critique), jason’s very honest about it and he words it in a respectful way.

random dancing and singing breaks with jason!!

he might not be the best at either, but he’ll do it because you’re having fun.

beach dates!!!!

especially when it’s summer and the sun’s at its hottest, what’s better than taking a trip down to the beach with his favorite person? this may or may not be your favorite summer activity because when jason asks you to put sunscreen on his back, and you can feel his toned muscles as you rub in the product…wow (he also may or not be flexing them purposefully)

jason who’s never surprised when his closet is completely CLEARED of any and all of his jackets, hoodies, sweaters, etc.

he never minds though because he loves loves lovesss seeing you in his clothes!

anyways…yeah you two are endgame!

your second contender was . . . percy jackson!

. . .

author's note: yaaaay first matchup woop woop! i hope you like it <3 thank you for your support!!

#emmy's 800 event!#i SWEAR i didn't choose jason just cuz you said your type is blue eyed blondies #it just lined up so perfectly with him...#jason grace x reader #heroes of olympus matchup

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dippiin-dops · 6 months ago

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Lately

Where Bruno wishes Narancia could've enjoyed a better life

Something short I wrote at about 1.755 words. I don't know how well platonic things like this do here, but someone might like it at least 👍👍

(Apologies if you're seeing this twice, I had to reupload because I deleted the original by mistake when I tried fixing a reblog </3)

From his point on the balcony, as the wind swept though him and through his hair, the people below moved like he were watching a movie. From where he stood at the top, he could see everyone; he could see the small group of kids running in zigzagged lines like petals pulled along the wind, and the couple trailing behind them, and he could see that the couple’s matching rings glittered beneath the sun. And, with his head in his hands, Bruno could see how peaceful they all looked.

A little ways off, in the park, a high-school-aged boy sat on a picnic bench reading a book. A much younger boy from the playground ran to greet him, carrying a flower plucked from the public garden. The older boy laughed, and said something, and the younger boy shook his head then ran quickly back to the flowerbed he plucked the flower from and left it there again.

A girl in similar age to the older boy leans on a separate picnic table, hesitating to sit, and looks around the park. She holds an ice cream cone in her hand, but neglects it, and the green scoop at the top begins to drip onto her blouse.

Days like these, where the smell of the sea hangs over towns around the coast like a fatherly embrace, were the hardest days of Summer. Nostalgia and melancholy would poison the air like a gas, and infect all of Bruno's foods with memories of his mother’s cooking. His father cooked too, eventually, but it never tasted the same-- though, even the meals his mother offered on Christmas days never tasted the same as it did before.

The sea remained with the same scent, at least. And kids that weren’t him and have yet to grow into him enjoyed it all the same without him. The sea didn’t poison everyone. Days like these weren’t hard on everyone.

A black car skitters across the open road, but falls to a stop soon after passing the balcony and backs up a moment later. Then, with similar motions of a twitching bug succumbing to a death, it aligns itself in stuttering motions against the curb. Another boy, another high-school-aged boy, opens the black door and sets foot onto the street. He doesn’t close the door behind him when he gets out. His head swivels in surveillance of his surroundings. He looks, then, and nods at Bruno on the balcony.

When Bruno got down to the street, the boy was still standing outside the car. He said; “Mista and Abbachio are with the guy right now. He’s not really the gangster-type, so Abbachio says he’ll probably spill before you get there.”

Narancia’s headband was skewed to the left today, and pushed further down his forehead then usual. Fugo would adjust it most mornings, but the mission from yesterday carried onto the next day and Fugo didn’t have the chance to see Narancia like normal.

“Bucciarati?”

“That’s good. I’ll ride back there with you.”

Narancia nods.

The two of them enter into the car; it hardly waits for a second to settle before sputtering down the road again at the full brunt of the speed limit.

Bruno had paid for the boy’s driver’s training a year and some months ago when he'd just turned sixteen, but Narancia maintained a tendency to push the limits of the law he was taught; it wouldn’t be too much longer until the buildings and clouds and occasional greenery would be reduced to blurry blobs of colors outside of Bruno’s window.

“Narancia...”

Suppose, though… those laws he were taught way back when, how do they differ so much from the laws Bruno would have the boy break with any given order?

“Yes, Bucciarati?” Narancia looks quickly to his passenger side.

“...No, never mind. Ignore me.”

The car hums and bumps against the rough road. As he predicted, the summer’s day scenery melts into abstract figures and hues before it dissolves altogether into blue and gray streaks at the empty freeway. Bruno rolls down his window-- just enough to let some air in –and stares out the sliver there made.

“...Say, Bucciarati, I could be just misunderstanding, but… are you okay?” Narancia nervously adjusts in his seat and the car jostles from his foot moving across the gas pedal. “You seem kind of distracted. But maybe I don’t know. I dunno.”

Something so odd was in his nervousness. No, he was never really the anxious kind of kid, nor the type to be so careful about things like emotion. Even when Bruno met him as the trembling orphan, struck by disease and ridden by abandonment, he declared his fragile future with all the resolution of a politician announcing their campaign. As if it was something to be proud of.

But it was true enough that there was something odd in the way Bruno was acting-- he recognized it too, that odd sense of melancholy nostalgia and, perhaps, guilt that’s so unusual to him.

“Do you ever wish you took a different path?”

“…In what?” Narancia looked something maybe a little bit more then nervous now.

“Do you wish you never joined Passione?”

Narancia’s grip on the steering wheel visibly tightens; his knuckles turned white from the pressure. His voice stayed firm, also, like it did the first time he spoke about joining Bruno. He said; “Never.. not once. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. But… I don’t really understand. Are you mad about that again?”

Those first few minutes when Narancia joined, Bruno really was mad. He was mad before he even knew what the kid was doing there, sitting at Libeccio next to Fugo-- like he just knew, somehow. But when he saw that Passione badge, tiny piece of gray lint stuck to the pin, he grabbed Narancia’s arm and dragged him out to the back of the restaurant. Bruno yelled by the trash cans for minutes, saying things he can’t precisely recall now about mistakes and stupid decisions.

Narancia just stood there for all of it, waiting for a chance to speak. When he got it, he said Polpol gave him a stand, and he’s just as capable as anyone else is now. He called out his stand like it was something that’d make Bruno happy, but seeing Aerosmith for the first time was the worst memory of that day-- it was a grave for the future Bruno had hoped for Narancia. It was like seeing a corpse of a loved one at a morgue. You’d hate to say it, but you know that face; you know that loved one is dead. So it doesn’t really matter if you say it.

Bruno calmed down, and walked back inside with his newest subordinate. He introduced him properly to Fugo, although they had already spoken together. Bruno never really verbally brought up the situation again.

“I’m not mad anymore. You’ve made your decision and are just as much of a mafioso as anyone else here.” Really, that was all there is to it. He knew that. Narancia was his subordinate now, and complaining won’t change it. “I’m… no, I’m just curious, is all.”

“...I never once regretted it.”

Maybe faster then he could realize what he was doing, Bruno spoke again; “I wished, when I took you to the hospital after we met… I wanted you to enjoy the rest of your childhood. You were so small then, but I was relieved by how strong you were anyways. You should’ve been able to spend nice days like this at the park, Narancia.”

The air from the crack in the window has made its stay obvious in the car; cooler, most namely, but adjoined with that familiar smell.

“I tried hard… really hard, to do what you told me then. Like I always do. I really mean it.” His voice might’ve trembled in saying so, but the white noise of the car made it hard to tell. “I just couldn’t… I didn’t… my own father, even…”

A silence hung over the car again for longer then it was welcome. It was Bruno’s own hesitance, his own turn to speak, but he was appalled by the effect of his own words that would make Narancia relive a decision he’s already made so long ago. He had no right to question it in the first place, and even less of a right to admonish it as such without so much as a careful thought.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me to say.” His eyes were closed and his voice settled weird in his throat. “I don’t have any right to speak to you in that way as your superior.”

The car went on for a little ways more but it got there to the empty warehouse in the time it normally takes to get there. When the car was parked, Narancia said; “I guess that maybe means you see it differently… but, I know this was the best life I could’ve possibly had. I see you, kind of like... a he-- hmm... well, you mean more to me then just about anyone I knew before. You and Fugo and Abbachio and Mista. Maybe you think I still deserve more, but I’m the happiest I’ve ever been helping you.”

“I know that, Narancia. I don’t doubt it. That reason should’ve been good enough; I shouldn’t have said anything.”

The car turned off and Narancia stepped out into the entrance of the warehouse.

In a moment, less then a minute but more then a few seconds, Bruno will follow and they’ll meet up with the group and head up to inside the warehouse and, speaking around a probably bloodied body, they’ll talk about intel and risks and plans. The inside will be dark, because the lights don’t work there anymore and there’s only a few candles. It’s better that it’s darker, so there’s never anymore then a few candles.

It’s not good to beat a man senseless and scar him in all ways for life, but an order is an order and the man is a talkative witness to things he shouldn’t have seen. They’ll make sure his wife and son won’t be, and if it all works out everyone’s lives will continue. It sucks, but no one can change circumstance. Getting the best outcome is all anyone could hope for.

Bruno steps out of the car, and nears to the entrance of the warehouse. Narancia is just a little bit in front of him now, so that Bruno can see; when Narancia arrives arm’s reach within Fugo, pale hands go up to adjust an orange headband.

#work 💾#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #vento aureo #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #bruno buccerati #so many ways to spell his name #narancia #narancia ghirga

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f1-disaster-bi · 8 months ago

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Omg can you tell us more about when Lando first showed signs of magic? 🥺

This is almost 1k 😭 but here you go anon, and thank you @f1-birb for letting me ramble at you about this idea ♥️

Lando is about six years old here!

"Please watch the step Lando!", Lando's mum called out to him as he nearly tumbled down the steps with all the grace of a new born deer.

All her words got her was a cheeky grin from the six year old before he was gone. Just a blur of curls and laughter as he was unleashed on their back-garden while she finished drying the dishes. She could keep an eye on him from the window, not that he would be getting up to anything bold.

Lando had always been an easy-going child. He was content to play alone, chattering away to himself and entertaining himself with toys. He was shy with people, but he had good friends in Alex and George who he went to school with. The boys only a little older than Lando, but the three of them played together as if they always known each other and it always warmed her heart to see them.

They weren't here today. Both of the boys had come down with the flu so their usual Saturday playdate was cancelled, but Lando hadn't been upset about it for long. She'd taken him to the park and out for ice cream before they'd come home, and now he was happy to play in the garden.

She considered joining him as she heard him talking to the flowers as she smiled at his antics, but the kitchen needed to be tidied before they could bake later. Lando had wanted to bake cookies for Alex and George. He'd told her that her cookies always made him feel better so it'd work for his friends too, and she didn't have the heart to say no to him.

With a quick glance out the window, she saw Lando crouched down by the back fence. His little hand clutched around his toy car as he inspected whatever it was before she turned around to start tidying away the last of the lunch things so she could prep for baking.

The sound of Lando's laughter, and his chatter occasionally drifted in the window as she listened to him talk to the flowers. It was something she would miss when he eventually got older and stopped having such a vivid imagination.

Or, a small part of her whispered, maybe it was a sign that he was more like her own mother than her.

Before she could think anymore on that line of thought, she heard a thump and then a loud wail coming from the back garden that had her moving moving before she even realized what she was reacting to.

She was out the back door and half way down the garden as Lando cried. Her little boy was on his knees, his hands clasped to his chest as big fat tears rolled down his little cheeks. There was a little cut on his chin, and probably his knees, but she would deal with that in a moment as she dropped to the ground to comfort him.

"Oh baby, did you fall? Does it hurt?", she questioned softly, hands cupping little cheeks to brush away tears, careful of the cut on his chin, "It's okay. Mum's got you, yeah?"

"No!", Lando argued, chest heaving with his cries as he looked up at her with big sad eyes, "I hurt it, Mum. I hurt it"

She didn't get a chance to ask what he meant before little hands were showing her a crumpled up flower that must have gotten squished in the fall. Some of the petals had come lose in his hands, and the stem was broken.

"I didn't mean to", Lando cried, "I wanted to give it to you. It wanted me to give it to you and I killed it"

"Oh, Lando", she smiled softly at how big her little boy's heart was, "It's okay. I'm sure the flower knows you didn't mean to hurt it. It's okay"

Lando just sniffled as she pulled him into her lap for a cuddle. He kept the flower in his hands, just looking at it sadly. He held it so carefully that it made her want to fix it for him so how but she couldn't. All she could do was hold him and kiss his forehead as he sniffled quietly.

"I'm sorry, flower", Lando whispered, "I wish I could help you. I want to help you. I want to make it better. I want to fix it"

His words made her hold him tighter but then she couldn't help but gasp a little as the flower twitched in his hand. It was just a small movement but then the stem started to straighten out and mend. The petals fluttered softly despite their being no breeze and seemed to meld back into the flower. There was a soft glow in Lando's hand, neon yellow like the lunchbox he insisted on having for school, and after a few moments, Lando was holding a perfect flower in his hands.

"Mum....Mum it's fixed!", Lando grinned as he held it out for her, looking so proud as he did that she couldn't help but laugh as he tucked it into her hair with a small hand, "I can hear it again"

Really, she thought to herself, she should have seen this coming with the way had been talking to the flowers since he'd been able to form words but she was still in disbelief as she squeezed him against her in a hug and pressed kisses to his face until he giggled and hugged her back.

"My brilliant boy", she whispered softly in amazement because he truly was.

He was her little witch, and she couldn't wait to ring her own Mum back in Belgium to tell her that Lando had magic as she watched him laugh as little balls of neon light danced around his fingers as they sat there.

#lando #witch lando au #child lando

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blimbo-buddy · 1 year ago

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Tallstar is Jake's boyfriend but also not. They both felt mutual attraction but they never took the next step so it's not official. They yearned but alas!

Tale I imagine has the similar markings to Tallstar but they're orange and white instead of being a tuxedo.

Tale is an adventurous little guy like his siblings and more interested in the clans than Rusty is if there were possible lol.

Rusty, Matilda, Filou, Tommy, and Luna are great older siblings to Tale and often play near the forest and in the fields.

Tale's favorite snack is Crickets!

The kingdoms have recipes they made.

One of the first things they did learn was that you can boil their kibble into water and soften it into a mush. They created stews and experimented with adding different things.

They recreated some human foods like desserts and bread.

They're evolving at a pace. A slow pace but considered the state they were at during Mapleshade's Vengeance timeline, they're a lot better than before lmao

What are some recipe ideas you have that cats would enjoy and make?

Ah, I see I see. I'd imagine the clans would not like it if one of their leaders was openly with a Kittypet. Man, imagining a scenario where TallStar ends up changing and he's like "Sorry babe but I don't yearn anymore lol I'm a true clan cat" and Jake's standing there cartoonishly clutching flowers trying not to cry.

Also I think that's neat with how Tale looks! I dunno why but I always thought orange and white looked the best with cats, especially if they're a very specific sort of orange. Reminds me of this stray cat who came by often and he was a really cool shade of orange with some white undersides, nick named him Creamsicle. I like Tale's older siblings being great like that and letting his adventuring nature run wild (with proper supervision of course), seems like Tale likes crickets because he found a cricket one time and didn't hesitate to crunch down on it.

Also gotta appreciate some good recipes that would be appealing to cats. Chop up some vegetables and boil in some bones and that's a perfect stew to sip on for when the days and nights start getting colder. The vitamins also help with cats who are sick, number 1 thing that you'd be recommended if you came down with a flu. I'd definitely imagine it took alot of trial and error to figure out what the cats can and can't eat when recreating human cuisines and desserts. They'd probably be shocked that humans don't drop dead from things that can easily kill an animal (Like mint).

I've mentioned them before but I got a few:

The crickets that are becoming a popular snack in Warriorclan/Present day Chelford

Dry cat food mixed with an egg or two, garnished with Rosemary. Simmered over medium heat

A buttery breakfast bun that is mildly sweet. Glazed with a thin layer of honey

Lots and lots of differing kinds of jerky. A nice, tough snack to chew on, helps keep your brain active too so that's a plus

Only ever accessible during winter season (Though there is also the option of stealing from freezers, but that's difficult 90% of the time), meat and fish ice pops for everybody!

For a delicious, crunchy or chewy starting dish: Dried, fried, or boiled bird's feet or rat/mouse tail. Twolegplace cats, like clan cats and outsider cats, value every single part of the prey item

Cooked bones that are cracked open so that the marrow inside can easily be slurped out

It's important to remember that the things that cats may enjoy, we as humans will see as gross. Cats in this case won't make the exact same food as we do, they'll most often than not have their own feline-twist to the dish that also falls in line with what they can and can't ingest. Though, that part's up to you if you want to have the Kittypet Kingdom cats evolve to grow stronger systems and become slightly more immune/unaffected to specific things that may make them fall ill

#blimbo rambles #ask #wc

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twitterpated-passion · 2 years ago

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Flowers for Valentine's Day | Monster Boyfriend

Five hundred years ago, the Fae realm and the Mortal realm joined together. The portals were brought down and for once in thousands of years, a truce was made. With a Mortal queen and Fae king, the two built a kingdom together, in the cusps of the realms, extending through the realms and making a city that only grew with time.

That's where you lived.

It was a nice change from your life in the country, and you relished your time in the whimsical city, the proof that Mortal and Fae finally came together.

But with its pros, it had its cons. Specifically Valentine's Day.

While it was just a day to give your partner flowers, chocolates, or other gifts in the Mortal realm, to the Fae realm, it was one of the most important days to a Fae's love life. It was easier to find the person they were meant to be with, Fae or not, and it was the one time gifts were allowed without being a token of allowing them to snatch you up and whisk you away. Though, they were trying to get rid of the concept, since there was no need with the portals open.

Always the natural-born tricksters at heart though, falling for a Fae without gaining their love in return held a massive consequence, and it was only curable by finding someone to love you, or earning their love. It was the cruelest way to end unrequited love for them.

That's why their 'Fated Day' was so important to them.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

You pushed the still warm bread into the display case, huffing out a breath as you lifted an arm to wipe off the sweat that formed from being inside the hot building.

The front door's bell rang as the door opened and you glanced over to see your new patron, a small smile gracing your lips when you saw who it was.

Noam. A Fae who was around your age, only a year older, who one day decided that he was going to come in every Wednesday and buy two pastries before staying for three hours. Though, while half an hour was spent eating the pastries, the other two and a half hours were spent talking to you.

You couldn't say you didn't enjoy it, you clearly did, it's why it kept happening. You'd even go as far as to call him a friend, but you never told him that, too nervous to do it when you could've read the room wrong and he just needed to talk to someone. But then again, if he needed to talk to someone, why did he let you do most of the talking?

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts when you saw him give you a small wave, giving him one in return. "The usual, Noam?"

He smiled as he approached the counter and nodded, his hair bouncing slightly in his bun. Your smile widened at the sight and you ignored the way your heart skipped as you pulled out two pastries; one chocolate cream filled, the second one drizzled with raspberry icing.

Wrapping them up and slipping them into a bag, you pushed it over and took his card from his hand, wringing everything up for him. "How are you today?"

"Hot," you responded with a small chuckle. "Better now that my favorite customer is here though."

You watched him flush as you handed back his card and tossed out the receipt, knowing that he'd never take it if offered.

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the table closest to the counter, opened the bag as he pulled out the raspberry one and started to eat. "You getting ready for your Fated Day?"

He nodded, flush darkening as he turned to look at you, saying between bites, "Mhm, and I think I know who I'm going to find that day..."

For some reason, your stomach twisted, and your smile faltered slightly. "Really? Who do you think it is?"

Noam's smile turned soft, dreamy as he placed the pastry down and started to speak, "I'm thinking it's a Fae that goes to the bookshop I work at...they're just...they're so nice and I hope I'm not taking things the wrong way, but I'll figure that out in a week."

You felt a sudden burn in your chest, like your lungs were being stabbed, but you pushed it back when you heard him ask you, "Do you have any plans for the day?"

You shook your head. "...Nah, I normally just eat cake and watch bad movies. It's become a tradition of mine."

He nodded, his smile widening at you, but instead of it normally making you feel lighter, you felt much much heavier at the sight of it. The pain worsened and you tore your eyes away from him, nervously biting at your lip. You were growing concerned...what the hell was wrong with you?

But instead of saying anything about it, even though everything inside of you is screaming to tell at least Noam or to text your boss, you don't, all you do is look down at the counter and rasp your knuckles against it, saying, "I'm sure you'll snatch them up, Noam, I don't doubt it for one bit."

You couldn't see him, but you could tell he was beaming at your compliment when he hummed happily, responding after a moment. "Thank you! I'm sure you'll be able to find someone too. Who knows, it might even be a Fae."

For some reason, you hoped it was.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

It seemed to be the moment after Noam left that you sunk down to the floor, back against the brick wall as you grasped for the trash can with tightly shut eyes, gasping in breaths that pained you with each one. But when the trash can was seated between your legs, you coughed harshly, feeling the burn rise up to your throat as something definitely left your mouth, however you couldn't ponder over it when you started to cough again, the second one hurting worse than the first.

It took a while for the pain to lower in your chest for you to open your eyes, but you did and you were met with crumpled up receipts and droplets of blood staining the white paper, dark pink flower petals also covered with drops of blood. Your pained breath hitched and your eyes widened. You couldn't believe it.

There's no way you should have that curse. It only came with unrequited love...right? And you weren't in love, you were just- wait.

Your heart started to pound as you started to cough again, tears welling in your eyes at the pain that ripped through you when you coughed up some more petals.

You didn't know if it was the pain or the idea that you were unknowingly in love that made you unable to wrap your mind around most of your thoughts. The only thing that got past the barrier and pain was the realization of two things. One: you were in love with a Fae. And not just any Fae. Noam. And two: you were going to die. You didn't know anyone who ever saw you as more than platonic or familial who you couldn't force love on, and Noam is going after someone else. He wasn't into you.

You were terrified, arms cradling the trash can as tears ran down the sides of your face. You had no idea what to do and after everything you've been through, no matter what you dreamt of doing, you were on borrowed time.

All because you had to fall in love with a cute smile that belonged to a cute Fae.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Everything hurt. Your throat was probably bleeding with the amount of blood that came up with every cough you let out, and every time you tried to move you wanted to die.

You were never good with pain, and you were shocked you weren't passed out yet from it all, but you couldn't really focus on it when you were terrified of a person walking in and seeing you huddled over a trashcan. Though, the thought that kept lingering in your mind, saying that you were on borrowed time over and over practically stopped your heart.

Your heart dropped when you heard the faint sound of a door opening and closing, too out of it to truly tell which door it was until Amiel walked out of the back room and saw you. "Holy shit..."

He dropped to his knees when he got closer to you and reached out to touch your arm, only to have you jerking away from his touch. That, however, let him glance into the trash can and his eyes widened. "...Oh shit...shit shit shit shit shit, alright, ok, uh- let me call an ambulance-"

Your raspy voice stopped him, your head shaking slowly, "...Don't...it won't help..."

You knew it. And you knew he knew it, but it still didn't stop a worried look from appearing on his face. "...Then at least let me call Han' and ask if her and her girlfriend could cover...she should be able to if I tell her the situation."

A small lift of your hand let him pull out his phone and call Han', your face pushing itself into the trash can again as you start to cough again, your already sore eyes burning with the tears that poured from them.

"Hey- ...yea yea, I'm at work, look, I need you and Lucia to come in...why?...uh, they're...they're currently coughing up blood and flower petals, Han'." There was a small scream, your eyes catching him pulling his phone away from his ear as you spit out a leftover petal, watching as blood came with it. "...I didn't ask and now isn't the time too...I just need you two to come in so I can bring them to their apartment. It's already pretty bad..."

You winced when you heard him say that, but you knew it was true. The harder it hit you, the more in love you were or something like that. You didn't even know you felt like that for Noam until today, but that was almost worse.

You droned out Amiel until he tried to help you stand, a whimper leaving you as you almost fell the moment you got half a foot off the ground. Your fingers painfully dug into the metal of the trashcan and a pained yelp left you when you were suddenly picked up by you co-worker, a concerned smile on his face. "...Your car or mine?"

"...Mine," you rasped out, shakily and slowly moving your hand to tug out the keys, but his hand was faster at that moment and he quickly moved your hand to tug them out of your apron pocket.

He helped you out of the building and with a bit of a struggle, which added to the guilt that you already felt at being so helpless, he got you into your car, rounding it and getting into the driver's seat. Taking a deep breath, he started the car, and you leaned back to the trashcan, wanting to keep your car as clean as you can, but the pain of having to move so much forcing you to stay in that position. It was the only thing that elevated the tiniest bit of pain.

Amiel pulled out of the small lot in the back of the building quickly, driving down the road towards your apartment. He was over with some of your other coworkers at times, so you didn't need to worry about forcing your voice to work to give him your address.

You coughed, once this time, and only a single petal left your mouth, it still hurt just as much as the others did, the only thing that was better was the length of it. You used the best of your abilities to take a deep breath, but you weren't able to pull in much before you were forced to exhale, so you settled on short, quick breaths.

"...Can you speak?...I mean, you can, but can you speak anymore?" Amiel asked you, eyes quickly moving from the road to glance at you.

"...Yea..." you responded, coughing after it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him flinch.

"Can you tell me who caused this?...If it's not too personal. Which, it probably is, but you know..." Amiel drifted off and you sniffled, your throat searing hot with pain.

"...Noam," you said, not explaining anymore. You knew he knew who Noam was, which was all he needed to hear for him to tighten his grip on the steering wheel.

"Shit," he said, which didn't help your case, but it expressed your thoughts about it. "...I know it was a Fae, but...gods, I didn't expect him."

You glanced over at him with a half-lidded look, which he thankfully caught. "Not that it's a bad thing! I mean- shit, I don't know how to speak. Look...I'm sorry you're going through this, and I wish I could say everything is going to be fine..."

You made a weak noise, shaking your head slowly, as if saying you understood. You knew nothing was going to be fine. That's why the curse was made. It only accepted miracles and with Fated Day coming up...

You weren't keeping your hopes up. Miracles didn't exist in your life. And you had a very good feeling it was going to stay that way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

When Amiel pulled up to the street of your apartment complex, you were alright enough to get out, but once he decided that you were moving too slowly for his liking and for his growing worry, he picked you up again. He locked your car and got onto the sidewalk to get you into your apartment building. "You fine if I stay for a bit?"

You only nodded, head falling onto his arm as you struggled to keep your eyes open, the pain finally trying to make your consciousness slip away. But he tapped your arm gently, forcing you to blink your eyes open. "Let's get some pain pills and some water in you before you pass out on me, alright?"

You nodded again, hoping that it'll do a little in soothing the pain. At least in the rest of your body if not your throat.

As he got your front door unlocked, another feat won with you still in his arms, he walked you inside, kicking the door shut when the both of you got far enough inside. With a tap to his arm, he carefully set you down, your steps more confident, almost a little faster as you walked to your couch, rasping out, "...Pills are in the bathroom cabinet...big blue bottle..."

You saw him nod in the corner of your eyes and he didn't start moving, not until he said, "You're speaking a little more...that's good..."

Amiel didn't let you respond as he quickly made his way down your hall and into the bathroom. You sat down, sinking into the cushions of the couch with a small groan, clearing your throat and wincing at the pain that shot through you.

You looked down at the trash can that you stole from the bakery, staring at the amount of petals that rested on top of the little sheets of paper. It was supposed to start out small...a petal or two...maybe a scratch in your throat. That's what you read anyway.

Instead, you got hit with the final stage of the curse...and you knew full well you'd be lucky if you lasted a week. Unfortunately, luck was not on your side at that point in time.

You coughed, spitting out the blood that surfaced, almost surprised there wasn't a petal with it. Amiel came out of the hallway a second later and you stuck your hand out, palm up, waiting for the pills. "I was going to get water..."

"...Give me the pills...I can take them dry and I'll drink the water later..." You cleared your throat, wincing again but breathing out whenever he handed you the pills. You pulled your hand back to your body and knocked down both of the pills in your hand, trying to ignore the burn that you felt whenever you swallowed them.

Leaning against the back of the couch, you wrapped your arm around the trash can, cradling it as you curled up against the arm of the couch as he came back in with a water bottle. Amiel opened it for you and set it on the side table beside you, hand grazing your shoulder before he walked to sit beside you.

It was silent between the two of you for a while, your vocal cords begging not to be used and him obviously not wanting to bring up what's going to happen. But to you, it was impossible not to bring up. It was only thing anyone could talk about with you anymore.

No more bakery talk, about what the next group hang out will be before inevitably on getting junk food and going to the Mall to waste a few hours before going to the movies. No updates about anyone's family, no matter how miniscule.

You thought about your own family, how they'd react whenever they hear about the news after the curse eventually took you. Another wave of tears pricked at your eyes, yet this wave wasn't from pain, rather just your plain ole feelings.

And in the midst of feeling the worst pain in your life, thinking about how your family will react when they find out the only member of the most recent generation died because they happened to fall in love, you thought about how Noam would react. You hoped that, despite not caring if other people find out, he'll never find out.

You did wonder if he'd be upset though...or if he'd just take it as a tragedy and move on with his life. You didn't know which one would hurt you more. Noam deserved to be happy, and you knew that, whether it was with you or with the Fae he talked about earlier in the day. It wasn't his fault you were slowly dying because of your body becoming a sudden greenhouse. It was only yours. You got close. You let your walls down and you fell for him. All he ever did was talk to you.

You didn't even know you were crying until you coughed after a sob ripped through you, raspy but loud, and all the more painful. You saw Amiel watching you in the corner of your eye, worry covering his face before you shoved your head into the trashcan and coughed out what looked to be a small flower bud, petals littering around the spot.

You grimaced at the sight, lifting your head slowly only to jerk away whenever you felt a hand on your back. "Just me, don't worry..."

If it was any other time, you would've scoffed and pushed his arm away while trying to fight the smile that came with it before you inevitably let yourself be comforted. But right now wasn't like any other time. It was worse. And you both knew that.

You didn't push his arm away, your crying only got heavier and you found yourself closer to Amiel. At least, close enough to have his hand on the other side of your back. Any closer and you'd have to readjust your hold on the trash can, and you really didn't want to do that. It was too much of an inconvenience on your weak, pain-filled body.

You did, however, let yourself enjoy the comfort of another person's touch, and slowly but surely, you were able to pass out.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Days passed, your condition only getting worse, yet you were able to live on your own again...though that was only because you got used to the pain. The others made sure to visit, helping you around your apartment and making sure you get enough liquid inside of you, since eating was out of the question unless you wanted to kill your throat some more.

As the routine formed, you got used to hearing a knock on the door, usually being able to tell who was there simply by how they knocked. Hana was a loud knocker and she only did it twice, her girlfriend was the opposite and thankfully did it five times. Amiel knocked to the tone of a song both of you knew, though, he usually came in before you had time to open the door.

So when you heard a normal three time knock on your door, you looked at your front door in slight confusion. Maybe it's a delivery and they'll go away soon. You never ordered anything though, so it couldn't have been.

Your brows furrow as you stood up, trying to ignore the way your now very over-sized shirt hung from you as you answered the door, your sunken eyes widening when they see who's at the door.

Noam's eyes had the same reaction, his eyes trailing down your sickly looking figure with nothing but concern in his expression. "...How'd you know where I live...?"

He shook his head when you spoke, snapping him out of whatever thoughts he was lost in before giving you a shy smile. "Amiel told me. I know it's not Wednesday but I wanted to grab some bread and you weren't there..."

You felt a cough starting to surface and with quick steps, you were able to maneuver away from the door towards your trash can, freshly emptied, even if it still smelled strongly of metal. You could hardly hear him step inside over your hacking, pain ripping through you like no other.

The only thing besides pain that you felt was your embarrassment for being seen like this by him. You became much more aware of how you must've looked. Your clothes hung from you, almost boxing out your previously healthy figure. Your eyes were sunken from lack of sleep, you were hunched over and you dragged your feet when you walked. You looked like death, and you wish you pass it off as an off day.

A gentle hand patting your back drew you from your thoughts, spitting out a couple of petals before turning your head to look over at him. He was worried because of you. Because you were an idiot and fell in love when he could never feel the same.

You wanted him to leave. But the urge to let him stay overpowered it and you motioned towards the couch, moving the blanket closer to you when you sat down, watching as he sat beside you. "...I know answering me will probably hurt, so you don't have to if you don't want to...but how long has this been going on?"

Hesitating for a moment, you decided to tell him. As long as he didn't know the rest, you'd be alright. "...Wednesday..."

"Oh...oh...so you were just suffering the entire time I was there...?"

"...Didn't have to cough until you left..." You responded, voice weak and quiet. You didn't look at him, too ashamed to deserve the right. You didn't want him to remember you like this. "...Why're you here...?"

Noam's breath hitched and he rested a hand on your arm, and unlike anyone else's touch, you didn't feel any pain with it. If anything, it helped soothe it. You leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut in slight relief.

"I wanted to come check on you...I brought something cold with me, I know it won't mean anything in the long run, but whatever takes the pain away, right?" You felt a tug on your heart and you nodded, barely able to hold back the whine that wanted to leave you when he moved his hand from your arm to reach in his satchel and pull out an aloe drink. He gave it a small shake when he noticed that your eyes were open again and offered you a small smile as he opened it for you. "It isn't much but-"

You cut him off by taking the bottle from his hand. "...Thanks."

You had to admit, it did soothe your throat, even when you nursed it after you accidentally chugged half the bottle. Noam stayed with you too, watching tv and commenting on things when you couldn't, eyes flittering over to you to watch your reaction to them. He winced every time you coughed and he smiled when you let out an airy laugh at one of his comments.

After a couple of hours though, you ended up throwing the blanket over the both of you, silently and subtly chasing his touch whenever you could. You knew he was interested in someone else, but if you ignored each and every cough, the way your voice sounded and the pain that wracked your body, you could believe that maybe...just maybe he felt the same way. That he was taking care of you because you got sick. And even if it was only for one day, and that everything would go back to normal and he would never see you alive again...you held onto that feeling.

Because even though you fell in love with the wrong person, even though it's causing you the amount of pain that you felt at that moment, and even though it was going to kill you...it still felt like a dream. It felt like it was fate.

You didn't want to believe that it wasn't.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Noam took your routine and turned it upside down, taking the duty away from your friends to take care of you, even though you told him that he didn't have to. He only answered with that he was off work and wanted to help, so you weren't getting away from him.

He never asked about the curse either, which you appreciated greatly. If he ever found out, it wasn't going to be through you...and you planned to keep it that way.

And though his touch made you feel better, you still continued to get worse, getting to the point where he practically lived with you because you could hardly push down liquids without the pain relief. You didn't speak either, your throat hurting too much to even think of doing it, and you were usually lying on your couch, the pain taking you away sometimes before bringing you back after only thirty minutes.

You weren't going to last much longer...especially now that the day was the oh-so-dreadful Fated Day. You were alone in your apartment, Noam going off to work and to hopefully get the Fae that he was pining after. Though you hoped that he'd be happy no matter what, you wished that Fae never existed with how hard you were coughing, more flower buds coming up than petals, stems prodding at you from the inside and blood mixing with the light pink of the flowers.

If you lasted the day, you'd be very lucky.

There was a singular knock on the door, then the sound of the knob turning and the door opening. You slowly glanced back at the door, seeing Noam walk in, one of the bookshop bags in his hand. He shut the door and set the bag down beside the couch before moving beside you and placing his hands on your arm and leg, his brows furrowing when he took you in. He had tears in his eyes, his head falling on your shoulder before he moved his hand to grab yours. "...I'm sorry."

Your own brows furrowed, your foot tapping against the floor to get his attention again before you gave him a look that practically asked him what he meant. "...Amiel told me...about why you have this. I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."

If your heart could drop any further, it'd be on the floor, your own tears filling your eyes. "I...I went to the bakery after I tried to...well...be Fated, I guess. The Fae wasn't it...they had a partner...and so when I got there...I was telling Amiel and he mentioned you...and...then it fell into place..."

He was crying, holding your hand with both of his as he got your shirt wet with his tears. You could only silently cry along, the pain only subsiding for a little, but not enough for you to feel any better. Not after learning this. Not after knowing that you're going to die.

Noam let out a sob, his usually beautiful purple monotone, cloudy with tears. He moved to kneel in front of you, pushing the trash can away slightly as he wrapped his arms around you. Despite crying, he still gave you a small smile, though it quickly turned sad when he started talking again, "It was you. It was always you and I-...I was too stubborn to realize it...and now...now I can't even live with my realization because I'm too late...I'm sorry, dove...this is all my fault..."

You wanted to disagree, but you could only cry, shaking your head. "Yes, it is! ...I should've realized! ...I should've known the signs...and instead I'm the reason you're like this! ...I'm the reason you're close to..."

He drifts off, breaking out into another sob as he shoved his head in your waist, grip on you tightening. "I can't even confess normally...I've failed you in every single way...and the worst part is that I can't even say that I love you after today..."

You tensed under his touch, those three words repeating themselves over and over in your mind. He looked up at you, tears streaming down his face, the face you fell hard and fast for. The face that used to flush whenever you used to compliment him or praise him...the face that used to beam at you...that used to huff a laugh out whenever he wanted to hide the fact that he liked the bad jokes you made. That face was full of guilt and regret and sadness. It hurt you more than the flowers did. "...S-So...if I can't say it anymore after today...I'm going to say it so many times today...so much that you're never gonna forget it...ok?"

After a moment, you nodded, watching him as he stayed in front of you, holding you tightly. "...I love you...I love you...I love you."

"...I love you too," you said, watching as his eyes widen before you realized what happened and yours widened as well. Cautiously clearing your throat, you were shocked at the lack of pain.

You moved Noam's hands, pressing against different parts of your body, only to feel nothing but your touch, your skin no longer as sensitive as it was. A cough bubbled in your chest and you quickly moved to the trashcan, but when you coughed, it didn't hurt...and nothing came up.

You took in a deep breath, then another, then another, your chest puffing out each time you breathed more than you could have in the past few days, your eyes snapping back down to Noam. "...I think...I think I'm ok..."

"Really? ...Can you breathe? ...No more pain?"

"...I feel...normal? ...How I felt last week...before everything happened..." Noam's mood switched when you confirmed that you felt 'normal', tears still running down his cheeks, but with the grin on his face, you could assume they were now happy tears.

He lifted himself and grabbed your face with his hands, his lips pressing against your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, the corners of your eyes, over and over in no particular order, a laugh blooming from your chest. His grin only seemed to grow at the sound, his eyes finding yours right before his lips press against yours.

You were sure the metallic taste on your lips wasn't that pleasant, but he didn't seem to care. Then again, neither did you.

Not when you were suddenly back to normal and kissing the Fae that you loved.

You had a lot more credit to give to love now...sometimes it comes right when you need it.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Part two

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