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blahkugo · 4 years ago

Text

Rouge

Satori Tendō x Reader (Haikyuu!!)

Word Count: 2.5k

TW: Mafia AU, Dark themes, Blood play (an excessive amount of blood mentions in general), Knife play, Asphyxiation, Angst (?), mentions of death (no main characters), Just two psychopaths going at it tbh.

A/N: I’m so excited to be writing for @the-smut-pile’s newest collab, hosted by @present-mel, @pleasantanathema, and @linestrider. Please make sure to check out the rest of the masterlist here!

Every night, the smell of bleach stings your nostrils and prayers left unsaid weigh heavy on your tongue. ‘It comes with the job,’ they had warned you, had urged a ‘pretty little thing like you,’ not to take a position you couldn’t stomach. You didn't listen, of course.

Because death isn’t a stranger in your life, nor an old acquaintance you catch up with once every few years. It’s a friend that phones daily, a lover you scurry into bed with—the chill down your spine when you walk home alone in eerie silence.

As a doctor you saw it everyday, with every patient that prayed for pity when the pain became all too much. Cries of the sick plagued your every waking moment; who were you to deny them release? Their suffering ended the moment you injected the drugs.

But you’ve never seen death like this before.

“Daydreaming again, angel?” Tendō swipes a disinfectant across the cold metal counter, rubbing until pools of pomegranate red match his long, messy hair. Despite the dreariness of the task, an impish smile remains plastered across his face, the glint in his eyes unscathed by the scene you’d both just witnessed.

“It’s still Doctor to you.” Try as you might, your voice comes out shaky, your heart pounding so hard you’re worried it may actually jump out. That feeling never quite leaves you.

He straightens his gloves and out comes his signature laugh—that high, maniacal, chuckle that stops just short of a song. You’d rip out your car radio if it meant getting rid of it.

“You haven’t been one for a long time.”

The truth makes you shudder, but he’s right, of course. Once your license had been stripped away and you were on the run, your career had officially ended. An ‘Angel of Mercy,’ all the news stations had called you, yapping on for days when you were that week’s most wanted woman.

You don’t have the right to be called a medical professional and yet, you stand your ground. If it means getting him to quit with the dreadful pet name, you’ll say just about anything.

“Your boss calls me Doctor.”

“Because my boss can’t remember your name.” He meets your eyes, lips quirking upward at the little huff that escapes you, your furrowed brows spilling bits of frustration you so desperately attempt to keep bottled. The air hangs heavy with the shrieks of anger you wish you could unleash, all the words you don’t dare say aloud in fear of looking weaker than he already believes you are.

Instead of challenging you further, Tendō simply turns away, chucking the wipes in a bin and humming a tune far too cheery for a man who just ended a life.

When night comes, you dream of the older man who begged to see his children one last time and the laugh that sounds like a song.

—

The next day isn’t any better, because it never is. Ushijima’s moles bring in three more bodies for questioning; bodies, because you’ve been instructed to refer to them as nothing but. And they’re young this time, heavily tattooed kids that can’t be much older than nineteen—children that look so much like the thralls of young men you’ve learned to call friends, you have to avert your eyes when they send panicked glances your way.

You wonder if Tendō ever makes these comparisons.

“I’ll only ask once,” the gruff, even voice echoes within the small space. “Who’s your supplier?” Your boss is cold and calculated. He never wavers, never says more than he needs to. He’s everything you’d thought the leader of a crime organization would be and more.

Tendō hovers next to him, gnarled fingers twitching eagerly at the knife splayed between them. It’s his weapon of choice, because—as he mentioned your first day on the job—he can ‘take his time with them’.

The captives crack immediately, pleading helplessly for their lives as they vow they know nothing. They probably don’t, appearing to be nothing more than lowly thugs in a long hierarchy of vile men. It doesn’t stop what comes next.

As expected, Ushijima remains silent except for the soft sigh that leaves him. Tendō sighs as well, though it seems more pleased—euphoric, even—than bored. He presses a slender finger into the tip of his knife, watches as a bit of blood runs down his lean arm, paints a strip of his tattoos red, and drips onto the metal table.

“Are they ours now?” Ours. The word brings bile to your throat. Ushijima makes his way to the door, bluntly calling over his shoulder,

“Do what you must.”

You push up your glasses, Tendō grins, and the screaming begins.

—

Blood-stained lab coats are a staple of your wardrobe. No matter how hard you scrub, fingers raw and aching, the faded pinks never seem to give. You quit months ago, resorted to throwing the worst ones away instead of putting yourself through that hell.

This coat’s going straight to the bin.

Through every horrid interrogation, you’ve forced yourself to watch. You’ve never looked away, never dared allow him to smell the fear off of you. You hand him the tools, write the information on the clipboard, assist with cleanup and disposal, and answer any questions he may have—like the good little medical doctor turned mafia member you should be.

And Tendō smiles the whole way through. Even as dagger meets flesh, as pained cries shatter your eardrums, as your vision is clouded with red, red, red—Tendō smiles, humming a tune that you hear long into the next evening.

But today, when the third young man had looked you dead in the eyes and sobbed, begging you to tell his mother he loves her, you couldn’t help yourself.

Of course, the towering redhead didn’t fail to detect the misstep.

“Bad day?” He questions innocently, resting his elbows on the now spotless titanium table. His muscles ripple as he leans, boasting the thousands of dollars worth of art across his arms. It bothers you that you notice it, even more that he probably catches you gawking. He sees everything, after all. Everything but the blood still splattered across his body.

“Won’t be the last, for us at least.” Brows raise, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him. If at all possible, the wicked grin on his face widens.

“You’re exactly right.” And like clockwork, he laughs. Your hands grow cold, ice corroding your veins. He swipes his tongue over his lip, leaving a slick shine on his lips. When he rises and steps toward you, you stand your ground, though you so desperately long to run. “Why so serious?”

“They didn’t know anything,” you mumble under your breath, “and you tortured them anyways.” In all your months of working with him, this is the first you’ve complained—and you immediately wish you hadn’t.

Tendō moves even closer, as though entertained by your tiny outburst. Perhaps he’s been waiting for this moment, for you to finally break your silence. When he speaks, his tone is gentler than usual, but still holds every hint of mockery and nonchalance the bastard is known for,

“It’s our job, angel face.” Another step, another tiny breath you’re holding in, worried that the slightest of sighs might shatter your perfected image of faux indifference. He tilts his head to the side, peering down at you, like you’re- a child.

And the glass breaks.

“Enough.” You splay your hands in front of you, halting him in his tracks, just as he invades your space. “Enough of the patronizing looks, and the humming, and the stupid pet name that you know bothers me!” An accusatory finger is jabbed into his chest. “Don’t you feel guilt? Fear? Empathy? You murder people.”

Your chest burns, heaving with rage. Tendō’s half-smile still sits on his face, words of ridicule ready to roll off his tongue any second. But when you look into his eyes, there seems to be something more—an emotion you can’t quite place. Anger? Understanding?

His next sentence is whispered with such sobriety, you’re unsure who it is you’re speaking to anymore,

“People like us don’t deserve those feelings.”

“There is no us!” The claim may come out crazy, hysterical even— a woman covered in warm blood shrieking within a cold, sterile room. For once, you don’t care. “I’m not like you.”

Those words may be what set him off, hand wrapping around your chin and tilting it up so that you’re unable to look away. Fingers that incite panic and enact violence, fingers you’ve feared since your first day here, clutching you ever-so casually. “Exactly. You’re not like me.”

He doesn’t wait for your rebuttal, gripping harder at your face. “I’ve made my peace with who I am, but you,” his breath fans your cheeks, “you only pretend you don’t enjoy it.”

Then, Tendō’s kissing you. And to your utter surprise, you’re kissing him back. Heat rises within you, the hairs at your neck curling as your lips meet with a ferocity. His palms graze your lab coat—no doubt staining his skin with the blood it’s drenched in—before he’s peeling it off.

When you tug at his messy locks, the butcher smiles and sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. He pulls you closer, hurriedly stripping you of your remaining clothing, until you’re left in just your panties. Hands roam at your supple skin, kneading at your hips, meshing into you wherever he can. All the while, your lips do the same, bleeding into each other until you’re unsure of where you start and he ends.

“No.” The command is stern, perhaps the most you’ve ever been with him. His eyes narrow in disappointment, limbs rapidly untangling from your body. You shove him backwards until his knees hit the edge of the table, nudge him again so that he falls against it, and grab a clean scalpel off the side counter. “No, we do deserve to feel those things.” His grin returns in full force—and he laughs.

This time, you don’t hate it.

“Deep down,” he grunts as you hitch a leg over his thighs and climb onto him, “you know that I’m right.” The scalpel’s pointed tip grazes his black tee, cutting through the material meticulously. You run a palm up his broad chest before pressing a finger to his mouth, smearing nearly dried blood across his jaw in the process.

“You talk too much,” the hushed murmur tumbling from your lips doesn’t sound like you, is foreign and twisted, and too much like him to bode well for either of you. The muscles in his thighs tense beneath you, his hard chest rumbling in a silent glee.

Your fingers brush against his cheekbones and you gasp, losing all perception of who you are. It’s absurd, but the individual you knew before, the persona you so adamantly believed you could uphold, crumbles with a single, soft touch of his skin.

And it’s unfair, really, that someone so beautiful—covered in art, blessed with hair the color of sweet wine and a laugh that sounds like music—could be so utterly fucked up.

When you nick his cheek, observing the drip of blood that trickles down, you wonder if Tendō ever makes these comparisons. And when you lick at it, preening at the groan that leaves him, you wonder if you’re just as fucked up as he is.

All at once, you’re flipped beneath him, back crashing against the cool metal table. He climbs down and drags his pants off, yanks you towards him with one pull of your thighs, and presses against your core. A shiver runs down your spine at the heat, crazes you for something you didn’t think you needed.

“By the way,” Tendō speaks through kisses and nips at your neck, “you are just as fucked up.” Though you hadn’t realized you’d said that aloud, you’re unable to retaliate, only wrap your legs around his middle and moan at a particularly harsh bite. He soothes every spot of broken skin with his tongue, drifting downwards until his lips meet your cotton panties. “How cute.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting thi– Ah,” your complaint is cut short when he moves them to the side and licks a long stripe up your slit. And he doesn’t stop, lapping and sucking at your soaked cunt, holding you down with one lean arm when you writhe in response to the pressure. “God, fuck.”

“Satori, but I’ll take God too,” he smirks against your mound. It’s then that he inserts a lithe finger, then two, stretching you out until you’re tugging at his long locks, goosebumps raised as the warmth of his mouth intertwines with the cold beneath your back.

You’re panting, unconcerned with time or it’s passing, only his fingers, his tongue circling your puffy bud, and your steady ascension to the edge. Just as your legs tense, breath caught mid-mewl of his name, he stops. You lean up on your elbows, rut against him, searching for more—friction, movement, anything—but he doesn’t let up.

“Fuck- why?” Your cry is loud, whiny even, but you don’t particularly care when euphoria’s been ripped away from you so suddenly.

“Tell me I’m right,” he teases, eyes peering straight through yours. You whine again, a mix between a pained groan and ‘are you fucking serious?’ before he flicks at your bud once more. “Say it.”

And you do. Because, as strongly as you've denied it, you’re every bit as perverse as he is, every bit as infatuated by the idea of power, of playing God—of holding a life between your fingertips and choosing death.

The second the words are out of your mouth, he thrusts deep into you. Your fingers scramble for purchase, nails dragging against the table, then his back, as skin slaps against skin.

There’s nothing gentle about Satori, all lean, hard muscle and jagged edges, but the pain is just as blissful as the pleasure. His fingertips rub at your clit, other hand moving to wrap around your throat and squeeze tightly.

“Satori, I- I need more,” you choke out, lightheaded. And he complies, shifting you to your side and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. Your cries melt into his, sweat soaking your skin, your hair, the table, as he pounds into you over and over again.

“That’s it baby– fuck, let go for me.” He presses the long-forgotten scalpel against your throat—and your vision goes white. Electricity sparks through your spine, your tongue lolls out, and you swear you feel tears run down your cheeks.

He doesn’t stop, working you through the orgasm as your legs bind his waist. A few more thrusts and he’s following you, holding your hips against him so tightly, he’ll probably leave deep purple bruises.

He finally stills, chest falling against yours and heaving, allowing you both to catch your breath. Flashing a set of pearly canines, his wild grin and the glint in his eyes reappear. For the first time since you’ve known him, Tendō is completely silent.

And then he laughs, lawless and untamed, the howl of a hyena that sounds like a song—and you laugh too.

#tendou satori #tendou x reader #satori tendou x reader #haikyuu smut #satori tendo x reader #hq!!#tw blood #tw knife play #tw death #tw dark themes #tw dark content #tw asphyxiation #tw blood play

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deepspacedukat · 2 years ago

Note

Could I ask a for all of them except for 3, 7, and 13? If that’s not okay can I have all the character/food ones instead?

Also because I’m an absolute idiot and can’t remember if I already asked, which mirror universe characters would you bang like a screen door in a hurricane?

-Horta-in-Charge

Oh, absolutely you can, friend! 💜 It’s my pleasure! Thank you so much for the questions!

1. What would your station be? (Engineering, science, security, command, medical, pilot.)

Ooooh, I’d like to be a science officer! That would be so fun! Low-key that’s why I always end up making my reader-insert characters be science officers.

2. What class of starship would you want to be assigned to?

Intrepid class, like Voyager! It seems not quite as large as the Enterprise, but not too small. Fast and maneuverable, yet filled with the creature comforts.

4. What’s your favorite Q encounter?

I love “The Q and the Gray” from Voyager - where Q tries to seduce Captain Janeway.

5. What’s your favorite rule of acquisition?

“112 - Never have sex with your boss’s sister.” I would like to know the specific circumstances that brought that rule into existance. I bet it was hilarious, knowing the Ferengi!

6. What Star Trek food or drink do you wish you could try?

There are a lot that I’m curious about, to be perfectly honest. Earlier when I answered this, I gave the drink I’d most like to try, so this time I’ll give the food I’d like to try. I think I’d like to try Sem’hal stew. It’s a Cardassian dish, and I have to admit, I’m extremely curious about it!

8. What planet would you visit and why?

I know I said Cardassia and Risa earlier, but tbh I’d also really love to visit Andoria, just to see what it’s like. I tend to like the cold more than the heat, so...yep. A cup of hot cocoa and a stroll through the ice tunnels seems like a fun way to spend the day!

9. What’s your favorite non humanoid lifeform?

THE DOGGO WITH THE FUR AND HORN FROM TOS. *ahem* Sorry, didn’t mean to shout. I just. Love. The space doggo.

10. What characters are in your dream poker game?

Given that I have no idea how to play poker, I’m gonna say Riker, Data, Geordi, Taurik, and Picard.

11. What holodeck program would you run?

I answered this earlier, but again, I’ve rethought my answer (it’s been an indecisive night lol). I think I’d like to try that tropical resort program that Neelix, Tom, and Harry have on Voyager.

12. What alien would you bone?

Because it’s a long list, and I’ve already been asked this I’ll give a totally different answer than I did before. I’d be down to bone with Solok! ❤️ Pretty Vulcan Captain Man...🥰

14. Favorite Star Trek tech?

Purely for comedic effect, the data PADDs that only hold like one file at a time so that people have to carry like a stack of 15 like digital library books.

15. What’s your favorite Star Trek holiday or celebration?

I like the Bajoran Gratitude Festival! It’s so positive and it seems like fun lighting a teeny scroll on fire! *giggles in pyromaniac*

16. What’s your favorite bad luck O'Brien episode?

I love “Babel”. O’Brien’s sarcastic outbursts prior to his contracting the virus were so entertaining, even if he was being tortured by overwork.

17. If you could fight any character, who would you fight?

I answered this earlier, but tbh, I think I’ve rethought my answer. I’d like to fight Jadzia - not in a rawr kind of way, but in a she knows how to fight and I’d like to see how long I last against her kind of way.

18. Who is your favorite on screen couple?

Look, the OG answer is Spock and Kirk, but if you’re talking a couple that ACTUALLY got together, then I LOVED B’Elanna and Tom.

19. Favorite mirror verse episode or character?

OOH, I have an answer for both! Favorite episode “The Emperor’s New Cloak” because Mirror!Brunt and a gay kiss all in one episode! Favorite character...probably a toss up between Mirror!Kira and Mirror!Malcolm.

20. Favorite Dax host?

Jadzia, my beloved! I know Ezri is awesome, but tbh, Jadzia was onne of the first female characters I ever had a crush on, so she has a special place in my heart.

21. What’s your favorite plot hole or little detail?

THE TWO BORG QUEENS. I know it had something to do with time as a way to explain her away, but...she...she dies twice...

22. Favorite piece of art or decor seen in the Star Trek universe (possibly background)?

I love the Horga’hn in Riker’s quarters. For purely slutty reasons.

23. What’s your favourite firefight?

The reliquary fight in ST:ENT S1E7 “The Andorian Incident” springs instantly to mind.

24. What character do you love to hate?

Sloan from DS9! I wanna chew him up like a chew toy. (And for once I don’t mean that in s sexual way lol)

25. What’s your favorite non recurring character?

I said Gul Macet in the answer I gave before, but I also really really love one of his officers: Glinn Daro. We never even get a first name for the man and he’s got me in a tight fucking chokehold.

ALSO you are not an idiot, and I don’t believe you’ve asked that before, SO

BONUS: Which mirror universe characters would you bang like a screen door in a hurricane?

There are a lot tbh, but the ones who immediately spring to mind are Mirror!Kira and Mirror!Malcolm. Also, since you told me he exists, Mirror!Shran. Because Shran.

#deepspacedukat asks #horta in charge #ily friend

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kiwi-bitchez · 5 years ago

Note

Ahoy-hoy. Yo so I got cheated on and TBH I can't smile. Idk if you're taking requests, but maybe write me a revenge-fuck sort of story? Sorry if you're not taking asks.

Hello! Don’t apologize, my asks are always open!! Thank you for sharing this with me, my heart really goes out to you. I’ve been cheated on before so I know how shitty you must feel. Sending you lots of love and also this fic. Not sure if I really captured the spirit of “revenge fucking” cuz this ended up being kinda #soft… but I hope you like it!

Manual Labor

Coffeeshop!AU / Carpenter!Tom

Word Count: 6.4K

Warnings: smut, the usual, oral, swearing, cheating, ex-boyfriends being shitty, lots of tea

Summary: After being cheated on you can’t seem to see the brighter side of things. That is until a familiar British carpenter comes into your work to fix some things. You bring him tea and things go a little better this time…

Dating in your twenties can be difficult. Everyone is at different stages in their lives, and everyone wants different things. Some people are looking for commitment, others just for hookups. So when you find someone who sticks, who wants the same things as you, it feels really nice.

Well, it feels really nice until they cheat on you after a whole year of dating. You would be foolish to say you thought he had been “the one,” but you really thought the two of you had clicked on a deep level. You were both mature, career-driven, hardworking, and caring people. Right? Well, it seemed so at the time.

But somehow you find yourself buried under seven layers of duvet blanket, bawling your eyes out on a Tuesday afternoon. It had all happened so fast, you hadn’t even had time to be emotional about it until it was all over. You kept running through your head what you had done wrong, what you could have done better.

Thursday rolls around and you realize its about time you show back up at work. Thankfully your boss is a sweetheart and told you to take all the time you needed. You tried to go into work the day after it all went down and ended up crying into someone’s coffee order.

You had cried all your tears and ate all your ice cream, and decided it was about time to rejoin society. Rolling out of bed you throw on your typical work outfit, black jeans and a t-shirt. You look in the mirror and try to splash some cold water on your face to kill the puffiness under your eyes.

Some mascara helped, and a little bit of lipgloss never hurt either. Once you were presentable enough, you make your way over to your job at the local coffee shop. Your coworkers all greet you with big smiles and empathetic hugs. It was obvious what you were going through, but you appreciated their support. You just wished everything would go back to normal.

“I never liked him anyways,” your closest work friend Margret admits, “I always thought you could do so much better.”

“Thanks Marg,” you don’t bother to look up from the pastry labels you were making, trying to signal that you really weren’t in the mood to talk about it.

Everyone kept telling you the same things, “He wasn’t good enough for you,” “You can do so much better,” “Fuck him.” Although you wanted to believe everyone, to be the badass independent woman you thought you were, you couldn’t help but well up with tears every time someone brought him up.

You manage to get through the week. Each day consisting of a little less crying and a little less binge eating, you slowly get back into your regular routine. Well, your regular routine excluding him of course.

It’s a slow afternoon, only a few customers dotted the coffee shop, most on their laptops doing work or having private conversations. You had zoned out, thinking about your schedule for the week, balancing school and work, as you stood behind the register waiting for another lonely customer to come in.

Your hand pressed into your cheek, leaning your weight onto your hand, you mindlessly stared at the wooden floor.

“Excuse me,” a strange accent asks from behind the counter. When had someone come in? Why hadn’t you noticed?

“Is Anna around? I’m the handyman here to fix the countertop,” his voice was like red velvet cake, and brought you right out of your trance.

“Anna’s right in the back, I’ll get her for you,” you answer his question instinctively before taking a moment to recognize the familiar face in front of you. You recall him from a few months ago, he was a carpenter who had come in to do some renovations over the summer.

His name was Tom. That you couldn’t forget. It had been a blistering hot summer day and he had come in to take a look at some part of the shop, something that had needed fixing. He went to the same school as you but worked part-time for a local carpenter.

He had assessed the damage and assured your boss Anna that he could start right away, only needing the rest of the day to fix up what needed mending. He had been wearing a white t-shirt that clung slightly to his body with sweat from the heat. He was good looking and certainly attracted the attention of most people in the vicinity, especially as he worked with the tools from his belt. You couldn’t help but stare for a second.

But only a second. Your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, often spent his time in between classes at the coffee shop visiting you. He always sat at the table closest to the counter so you could talk to him when business was slow. That’s why you stared for only a second.

After around two hours, you decided to go over to him. He had been working tirelessly, and the exhausting heat must have been getting to him.

“You drink coffee?” you ask, causing him to stop drilling at whatever he was fixing.

“I drink tea, darling,” he responds, causing you to notice his thick accent.

“How do you take it?” you blush a little, as his dark brown eyes looked directly into yours as he answered your question. You figured you were just being nice, he was working really hard and looked like he could use a break, that’s all.

You quickly made your way back behind the counter, whipping up a cup of tea and a blueberry muffin that he hadn’t asked for but you were sure he’d appreciate.

“Thanks love,” he said appreciatively as you set it down on the table closest to him.

“On the house,” you smile back at him, “for all your hard work.”

You hadn’t thought too much of the interaction, just a nice gesture you felt like doing. Your boyfriend had thought otherwise, however.

“What the fuck was that?” he hisses at you, barely above a whisper from the other side of the counter.

“What?” you ask back, fully not knowing what he was angry about.

“Were you trying to make me look stupid?” he says a little louder this time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” his tone worried you.

“You’re just gonna flirt with that guy right in front of me, do you think I’m an idiot?” his voice was rising in volume and you were starting to get nervous that the people in the café could hear you.

“Babe, I was just being nice, he’s working really hard,” your voice is back at a whisper, trying to encourage him to do the same.

“No, you always do this, you think you can make me jealous by being a fucking slut and flirting with every guy you see. Stop it, it’s not cute and it doesn’t work y/n,” his tone was abrasive and you could feel the eyes of everyone staring at you. You could feel tears well up in your eyes as his words burned into you.

“It wasn’t like that,” your voice cracked, “I promise it wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” he responds loudly and sarcastically as he slams his laptop shut and shoves it in his bag.

“Guess I’ll see you later,” his voice was still sharp.

You watched him stomp out of the small shop, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Tom had mouthed to you as your eyes made their way to him in the doorway.

“It’s okay,” you had mouthed back before running to the break room and begging Margret to cover for you as you cried in the bathroom.

This memory hit you like a ton of bricks as you saw Tom again, standing at the counter. Your ex had always been jealous like that. At the time you thought of it as “protective,” and “loving,” rather than seeing it as “possessive” and “manipulative.”

“She should be right over here,” you say a little slowly, your eyes not leaving his face. You were taking it in, the curve of his jaw and the angle of his smile, the same warm look he had given you all those months ago.

“Hey Anna, the carpenter is here,” you pop your head into the back room.

She shuffles out and greets Tom, shaking his hand quickly before showing him over to the area that needed fixing.

You sit blankly at your register, tending to the few customers who came in, somehow without taking your eyes off of Tom. Seeing him just reminded you of that day, reminded you of how your ex had humiliated you and made you cry, how he had been so rude and controlling.

Seeing Tom made something switch in your brain. Everyone was right. Fuck him. Fuck that guy and fuck what he had done to you. You were done crying over someone who would cheat on you, over someone who clearly didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved. Everyone who was spewing clichés at you was right. You did deserve better.

Somehow through these thoughts, your hands had taken over while your mind ran in circles. Before you could even realize what you were doing, you were standing in front of Tom with a cup of tea and a blueberry muffin.

“Um,” you stutter out, not entirely sure what you were doing, “If I remember correctly, this is how you take your tea.”

His attention is pulled from the countertop, brown curs slightly pressed to his sweaty forehead, biceps filling out the sleeves of his shirt perfectly. Those perfect brown eyes boring into you once again.

“You remembered,” he said with a genuine smile, “that’s amazing, thanks a bunch love.”

You set the tea down next to him and stare for a second, not wanting the conversation to be over.

“You should hurry back though, if your boyfriend is here again,” he says quietly with a bit of concern.

“Oh,” you were taken aback, the implications of your action hitting you, “Oh, um, he, uh, we… aren’t together anymore. He doesn’t come here.”

“That’s a bit of relief then,” Tom says, putting down his tool belt and picking up the tea to blow on it, “that guy was a bit of a prick if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah,” you laugh a little, looking down at your feet, “bit of a prick.”

“This may be a bit out of line,” he takes a short sip before continuing, “but I didn’t like the way he spoke to you.”

“Not out of line,” you shake your head, “he was being an ass to you too, I’m sorry you were put in that awkward position last time you were here, I wanted to apologize.”

“Don’t apologize for a thing love, you’re much better off without him,” although he was essentially a stranger, his words seemed sincere.

“Ever since he cheated on me I feel like that’s all I hear,” you say with a laugh, your breath hitching in your throat when you realize what you had said. You weren’t really thinking, and this boy made you a little nervous, it had just slipped out.

“Oh, I- I’m sorry to hear that,” he said with a softer voice, “I-”

“Sorry,” you cut him off, “that was weird of me to say, you don’t even know me, sorry I’m like, dumping my personal problems onto you.”

You laughed nervously, wanting to clear the air. He looked at you with genuine sympathy. He had experienced first-hand how much of an ass your ex had been, and you seemed so sweet, remembering his café order and bringing it over to him when you truly didn’t have to.

“Thank you for the tea,” he said, taking another sip, “you smile a little brighter without him around.”

Your cheeks grew hot at his comment and all you could do was grin at him and scurry back to your position at the register. You bury your face in your hands, running through the conversation you just had over and over. You felt so stupid, yet at the same time strangely confident. The way he looked at you, smiled when you smiled, made your heart flutter. Were you imagining this? Was he just being nice?

You kept stealing glances over to where he was working. He would occasionally catch you and smile back, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his cheeks pink. You held your breath every time, wanting to go back over to talk to him. But you were at work, and so was he. So you continued to make lattes, and he continued to fix the countertop.

You start to clean up, throwing out old coffee filters and wiping down dirty tabletops. You start counting money in the register when you’re startled by a figure in front of the register.

“What do I owe you for the tea,” he asks, your face gets hot even before looking up at him.

“Come on, you know it’s on the house,” you respond with a smile.

“Now this isn’t fair,” he starts playfully, “you’ve given me two free drinks now. The gentlemen in me feels it's my responsibility to buy one for you now. It’s the least I can do.”

“You can make me a cup of tea anytime,” your response slips out before you can even filter yourself.

“In that case, let me know when you’re free. I’ve got jasmine, mint, earl grey, English breakfast…”

“I’m more of a chamomile girl,” you were completely unsure where this flirt was coming from, “you know, sleepytime tea.”

“In that case my flat is right around the corner,” he laughs.

“My shift ends in ten if you’re willing to wait around…”

“Yes, yeah, of course, I’ll be right outside,” he gestures out the door and hurries to gather his work tools.

Your eyes grow a little wide when you process what you had just said. Where was this found confidence coming from? Where the fuck could you find some more? And fast???

You finish cleaning up and hang your apron on the hook, giving a shout goodbye to your coworkers as you hurry out the door. Part of you hopes this had all been a joke and he would be nowhere to be found, the other part of you desperately looked for him in the parking lot.

A thud in your heart comprised of half relief and half panic hits as his hand waves to you from his car.

“Hey, you,” he calls over, “you still want that cup of tea?”

You jog over to his car and lean down to his open window, “I’m not sure London boy, I work at a café, I can make a pretty good cup of tea for myself,” there it was again, the flirty courage.

“Oh, but you’ve never had tea made by a real Englishmen, have you? You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

“You make a compelling argument. Can I follow you to your place?” you nod over to where your car is parked.

“Sure thing, it's not too far from here.” He gives you a cheeky smile that makes the corners of your mouth turn up.

You can’t stop smiling as you hurry over to your car, starting it and not even bothering to pick out music before putting it into drive. Your mind starts whirling a thousand miles a minute as you follow his black car to his apartment. What the fuck were you doing? You barely even know this guy. But god, he’s so hot. And nice. And funny. Fuck.

Suddenly you’re parked next to him, turning the key and stepping out of your car in front of his building.

“Made it alright?” god, that accent. This boy was going to be the death of you.

“I’m Tom by the way,” he flashes you another one of those perfect smiles as you walk side by side to his building entrance.

“I know,” you realized how weird that sounded, “um, I know because you’re the carpenter we always hire,” you try to laugh it off, “I’m y/n.”

“Lovely to formally meet you y/n,” he opens the door for you, “I really appreciate all the free snacks you’ve given me. I always love doing business at your café. For more reasons than one.”

He presses the elevator button and stands close to your side as the two of you wait for the numbers to count down. You step into the small elevator, looking over at Tom as he presses the button of his floor.

“I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this,” he turns to you, “but that guy was a real dumbass for letting a girl like you go.”

“Thanks,” you can’t help but stare at the floor, “I’m not tired of hearing it as long as it’s coming from you.”

He laughs a little at your comment. He has a certain way of making you feel comfortable, of reassuring you with a laugh or a smile when you think you’ve said something stupid.

The elevator dings at his floor and he saunters out over to his apartment door. Your heart rate begins to pick up as he opens the door, not knowing what to expect. You walk in and take off your shoes and put your bag down on a coatrack.

He walks into his small kitchen and immediately puts on a pot of water. Part of you is relieved. He actually wants to make you tea.

“I moved to the states a little over a year ago,” he starts to rummage though his cabinet, pulling out boxes of tea, “everything is pretty nice here, except there isn’t really anywhere to get a decent cup.”

“Hey!” you protest, “I make alright tea.”

“Your tea is alright…” he jokes, “but its nothing compared to home.”

“That’s not fair,” you sit down on a stool across the kitchen from him, “it’s like apples and oranges.”

“Why can’t fruit be compared?”

You fall into an easy back and forth with him, finding the same things funny, laughing at each other’s comments and jokes. You can’t help but stare at his arms as he pours the hot liquid, at the way his tongue pokes out between his teeth in concentration.

“Here you go love,” he hands you a cup, “one genuine cup of tea made by a real Brit.”

You hold the cup in your hands but pay no attention to your own tea as he takes his first sip. You hadn’t flirted with anyone in so long. You didn’t have a reason to. This all felt strange and foreign to you, like you were thirteen again.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, still watching the curve of his jaw as he sipped his cup.

“What do you mean ‘thank you,’ you haven’t even tried it yet,” he gestures to your full cup.

“Not for the tea,” you bring your eyes to meet his, “but thank you for that too. I mean thank you for being so nice to me. For listening to me even though I’m so all over the place. I just… I just haven’t had anyone treat me like this in a really long time and I just wanted to say thank you.”

“Hey,” he brings a hand up to your knee, making you shiver a little, “you can thank me for the tea, but you don’t have to thank me for the common curtsey of being a decent person. You deserve to be listened to and taken care of, that you don’t ever have to thank me for.”

You feel your heart jump into your throat. You had never thought of that, of holding yourself to that standard. Your ex had been an ass to you time and time again, and you always came up with a reason as to why it was your fault. Even when he cheated, your mind went to what you had done wrong or how you could have been better. Fuck that. There was a boy right in front of you who was showing you what your worth was. Being treated like a true human being shouldn’t be rewarded, it should be expected.

“I-” your voice was caught in your throat, “you’re really nice. And cool. And you make really good tea.” You laugh, and he joins you.

“I would very much like to kiss you,” he brings his hand from your knee up to where your hand is placed on your cup, “I also think you are really nice, and cool, and although it is hard for me to admit, you make some good tea too.”

You lean over to him, tentatively waiting for him to meet you halfway. His hand moves up your arm to the side of your face, the skin of his palm was rough and warm against you. Your eyes slowly shut as he pulls your face to his, soft lips meeting yours.

Kissing him for the first time felt like the brisk ocean water hitting you with a wave. Sucking you under and pulling you back up, ice cold yet exhilarating. You pull away from the kiss, letting the wave roll back out to sea, the next wave close on the horizon.

You had never felt such a breath of fresh air, his lips meeting yours again and pulling you back in.

“Is this okay,” he whispers into you, hands cupping either cheek, tea long forgotten.

“Yeah,” you respond, wanting nothing more than to kiss him again, “more than okay.”

You can feel his body shift as he stands up from the stool, his chest coming closer to yours, his face leaning more into the kiss. Your hands make way up his arms, the perfect biceps that you had admired from afar in the coffee shop more than once before.

You press deeper into the kiss, addicted to the feeling of his lips on yours. You were getting pulled further and further in, and you couldn’t bother to look back. You let his tongue slip into your mouth as your hand dances up to his neck, playing with the curls that framed his face.

“Can we go to your bedroom?” you find yourself asking with eyes still closed, lips barely released from his.

“Mhmmm,” he mumbles into your lips, reconnecting them once again, seemingly as addicted as you, “only if that’s what you want, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you respond a little too quickly, “I’m so fucking sure.”

His strong hands grip underneath your legs that dangle off the stool where you sat, slowly lifting you up to meet his height, legs wrapping firmly around his torso. Your lips never detach as he carries you down the hall, your tongue rolling against his in perfect harmony.

He places you delicately on his bed, cool sheets beneath your skin causing goosebumps to rise. You can’t get enough of the feeling of his hair tangled between your fingers. You run them up and down his scalp, gathering his locks in your hands as you go. He kisses you like he means it.

“I want you to know,” he whispers in your ear, a deep gravely tone, different and sexier than his speaking voice, “that I want to make you feel good, so much better than that guy ever made you feel.”

He juts his hips into yours, causing a moan to catch in the back of your throat.

“Please,” is all you can manage to say before lurching forward, meeting his open mouth with yours again.

His hands are rough and strong, feeling amazingly foreign as they make their way up your legs, dancing underneath the hem of your top. He presses his palms down into you, causing your back to arch into him as you kiss.

You take initiative to remove your top, to show him that you really want him. You toss it over your head, not bothering to notice where it lands. His lips dip down to your jawline, training kisses from the corner of your mouth down to the soft spot on your neck. His thumbs continue to rub soothing circles into the flesh of your torso, slowly making their way up.

You mimic his actions and detangle your hands from his hair to feel underneath his t-shirt. His skin was tight and warm and smooth under your hands. He was taking his time with you, moving slowly but with purpose.

You tug at his shirt, signaling that you wanted it off. He got your message and pulled it off by the back of the neck. You couldn’t help but stare with gawking eyes, you had truly never seen a body this nice so closely, let alone touched one.

He had a cocky smirk on his face, knowing well how hot he is. All you could do is bite your lip and laugh a little, completely unsure how you ended up in this amazing position.

“Manual labor does a body good,” he says with a chuckle before leaning back down to your chest, resuming his trail of wet kisses that were now dipping into the valley of your breasts.

“You’re telling me,” you comment back as your eyes flutter shut a little, feeling his thighs tense up underneath your legs.

He looks up at you for permission before pushing your bra up, kissing and nipping at your skin. He left red blotchy marks that caused a pool to form in your panties. Your hips continue to buck and roll into his, feeling his hardening cock press through his pants onto your leg.

He continues his journey south, taking pit stops to suck at the skin around your ribs, on your stomach, above your hips.

“Can I?” He asks before hooking his thumbs under the waistline of your jeans. You lift your butt to help him slide them off, head in a complete daze. His hands run up and down your legs as they had before, less barriers between you this time. He continues to kiss at the skin on your hips and down into your thighs as his hands slowly spread your legs open for him.

He spent time teasing and licking around your underwear, never quite moving in to where you wanted him most. Leaving a purple hickey on your thigh, he soothes it over with his tongue as he brings his hand up to your underwear, stroking up and down your slit through the fabric.

You cant help but twitch under his touch. He was moving agonizingly slow, and you could feel the dampness in your underwear soaking through to his fingers. Unexpectedly he licks a stripe up the cotton, mouthing at your lips through your underwear.

A breathy moan leaves your throat as your head rolls back, begging him to take them off. He slides a finger around the seams and runs it through your slick folds, loving the way you were already so wet for him.

He follows the row of red marks he had left down your leg again with his tongue as he slowly pulled your underwear down. Every time you looked down at him you felt yourself clench around nothing in anticipation.

Finally, you feel his warm tongue run from your inner thigh to your core, licking wide stripes up and down before dipping into you. His name leaves your mouth mixed with heavy breaths, your hands searching for his arms or his hair, or anything to grip onto as he licked slow circles around your clit.

“Holy shit,” you choke out as he slips a finger into you, curling it upwards perfectly.

You feel him smirk into you, knowing the effect he was having on you. You like his confidence, and the way he was taking his time, building your orgasm up slowly. A second finger joins the first curled up against your walls and your hips drag against his expert tongue.

Any worries you had were melted away, all your stress, your anxieties, your negative thoughts that seemed to haunt you more often than you would like, suddenly sunk away and all you could think was his name, over and over.

You feel your thighs push back as he presses his face deeper into you, licking and pushing his fingers in a perfect rhythm. He could feel your walls tighten around his fingers, knowing that your high was close.

“Fuck Tom, I’m-” you couldn’t even bear to finish your thought as your orgasm crashed over you, that perfect wave of pleasure pulling you out and pushing you back in. He knew just when to speed up and when to pull back, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face, lapping up your juices and kissing back up your thighs, finally meeting your face, two fingers remaining inside your pulsing opening.

“Holy shit,” you giggle out, “you’re really fucking good at that.”

“I told you I wanted to make you feel good,” he kisses into your neck, finally dragging his fingers out of you and running them softly up your skin, “and how can I not when you look so gorgeous like this.”

You manage to swing your shaky legs over him, moving on top to press your chest flat against his. Now it was your turn to leave open mouthed kisses all along his neck. That perfect jawline begging to be sucked on.

Your hand snakes down to his hard member, fiddling with the button of his pants.

“You don’t have to, if you’re tired,” he mumbles into you as you feel around in his pants.

“I’m yours, if you’ll have me,” you whisper back into his ear, finding his cock fitting perfectly in your hand.

He kissed you with a new hunger and passion, hands gripping at the roots of your hair and pulling your face into his as you slowly jerk him off. Low guttural moans growling in the back of his mouth as your tongue swirled around his.

He kicks his pants off, and you push the band of his boxer briefs down as well, exposing his perfect cock. It was pink and dripping precum, begging to be sucked on. You run your thumb over his tip, loving the way his body tensed under your touch.

You find yourself down between his legs, licking a long stripe up the underside of him. You swirl your tongue around his tip while making eye contact with him, his head tossing back once you finally sink your mouth down onto his length.

He had teased you relentlessly, so you decide to tease back. You jerk the base of him off slowly as you run your tongue in all sorts of patterns clockwise and counterclockwise around his sensitive tip, only sinking back down when he bucked his hips up into your mouth.

“Fuck, y/n,” his voice was weak, “can I fuck you, can I please fuck you.”

His eyes finally focus back down to meet yours, the sight of your lips wrapped perfectly around his cock make it twitch.

You detach your lips with a pop and give him a nod, taking your swollen lip in between your teeth. Suddenly his hands are on your shoulders, pressing you down into the mattress as he kisses you hotly, sucking onto your bottom lip.

He rubs circles on your clit with one hand as the other fumbles over to his bedside drawer to find a condom. You lay back with your legs pushed up for him, back arched, fully ready and open for him. He runs his rubber tip up and down your soaking folds a few times, making you beg for him before slowly pushing into you.

You moan into his neck, biting down on his shoulder to silence yourself as he bottoms out inside you. His slow movements give you time to adjust to his size before you meet his lips again with yours, telling him to fuck you harder.

One hand takes place on your inner thigh, pressing your leg into the mattress to angle you perfectly for him to fuck into you, the other remaining on your clit. He picks up his pace and starts thrusting deep and hard into you, properly fucking the shit out of you.

You could tell he liked it when you moaned his name and told him how good he was making your feel, always thrusting a little deeper when you would make noises. It wasn’t long before you felt the pit on your stomach grow hot again, threatening to spill over at any given moment.

“Please don’t stop,” you whine, “you’re gonna make me come again, fuck.”

Your eyes scrunch shut as he rubbed a little harder onto your clit, causing your walls to flutter around him, gripping his cock with every muscle you had. Your eyes roll back into your head, his mouth hanging wide open as he watches you come and writhe underneath him. He doesn’t let up on his pace, fucking you thoroughly through your second orgasm.

Your face was flushed and your jaw hung slack as you felt the waves of pleasure crash over you again and again, abdomen tensing up and letting go over and over. The look on his face could have easily made you come again, watching you intently as you shook with pleasure.

He moves his hand from your throbbing clit up to your face, cupping your cheek as he kissed you deeply, teeth grazing over your bottom lip. You felt your sweaty forehead press into his, eyes open and staring directly into his as he continued to pump inside of you.

“Tom,” you manage to say above a whisper, “fuck me harder, please, fuck, please.”

He leans back onto his knees, and with a swift motion, pulling out of you, he flips your leg over and places you on your stomach. Hands gripped tightly on your hips pulling them up slightly to meet his. He easily slips back into you, hitting a new spot inside you this time. You cry out into the mattress, moans silenced by his pillows. Your hands grasp tightly at the sheets, pushing back onto him as he takes you from behind.

One hand on your lower back and the other gripping at the flesh of your ass he fucked into you with incredible stamina and power. You couldn’t even imagine the fucked out expression on your face as he buried himself into you over and over.

You could feel his cock start to twitch and swell inside you, his thrusts becoming harder and more purposeful. With a final push, he presses hips flush to yours as he spills inside the condom

“Oh my god, y/n,” he groans out, rolling himself into you slowly as he continues to reach his peak. All you could do was press your ass back onto him and feel his warmth inside you.

After a few more profanities, he pulls out and discards the condom. He reaches down and helps you up, bringing your body to lay next to his, spooning you with an arm draped over your sweaty form.

You lean your head back onto his shoulder, looking back up at him through tired eyes.

“That,” you start to giggle, “was really fucking good.”

“Yeah,” he buries his face into your neck, taking in the smell of your hair, “I thought so too.”

He continued to hold you in his arms for a few minutes, allowing you both to relax into the post-sex bliss.

“I think… our tea is probably cold.”

You laugh at his comment and roll over to face him.

“Want me to make another pot? For real this time?” He asks, fingers still dancing up and down your skin.

“Sure,” you smile at him, “I’d like that.”

He gets up and throws his underwear back on, giving you a full view of his perfect body standing in front of you.

“You should pee and get cleaned up,” he suggests, “bathroom is just down the hall.”

You take a moment to stretch out and toss your shirt and underwear back on, making your way down the hall. You can hear him moving in the kitchen, and can’t help but replay the events of what just happened over and over in your head.

Slipping quietly out into the kitchen, you take your seat back on the stool, looking much more disheveled than you had when you sat on it earlier.

“You’re beautiful,” he says with unwavering confidence as he hands you another cup of tea. You blush at his comment and look down at the cup in your hands. You take a sip, letting the hot liquid coat your throat, dry and sore from moaning his name.

“Thank you,” you look up at him, “for the tea.”

“You’re welcome,” he laughs, “I very much like you, and would like to see you again. If you want.”

You smile and nod at him, happy that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him. He rifled through a drawer, pulling out a pad of paper and scribbling his number down. He folds the paper in half and hands it to you over the counter.

After finishing your tea you get dressed and gather your things. He walks you to your car and kisses you before you open the door, lips lingering on yours.

“You’ll call me?” he asks, you assure him that you will.

“I’ll see you sometime soon,” you wave as he walks back to his building. You cant wipe the smile off your face the whole drive home, head on cloud nine. You twirl around as soon as you enter your apartment, dancing around to get rid of all your pent-up happy energy. You put your stuff down and go to get a glass of water, your cabinet creaking as you open it.

You didn’t want to seem desperate, but you immediately take out your phone, entering his number into your contacts. He had scrawled his name under the number with a little heart, making your smile spread wider across your face.

Hey, my cabinet door is squeaky: looking to hire a carpenter, know anyone good?

You hit send, hoping he thinks your message is funny and not desperate. Your stomach does a cartwheel as the three typing dots pop up.

Tom: I may know a guy… he can be over your place tomorrow at 6?

#tom holland smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #smut #ask #request #tw:cheating

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nicholasthepunisher · 5 years ago

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ok after watching santa claus is comin’ to town and jack frost, so far my understanding of the ice elementals of the RBCU (Rankin Bass Cinematic Universe) is this:

father winter gets all his orders directly from mother nature, who is at the tippy-top of the hierarchy. father winter is the boss of the kingdom of winter clouds and initiates the creation of winter whenever mother nature wants it, with help from all the other entities working under him (snip, the sleet sisters, hail fellow, ect.), including jack frost, who i see as a kind of steward for the winter season and helps deliver it to humans

snow miser is definitely the son of father winter and mother nature tbh, but he seems to just be kinda doing his own thing?? he’s too busy feuding with heat miser and basking in the reputation santa brings him bc of the holiday season to actually properly contribute to the winter like he should be doing, besides doing things like claiming territory so heat can't take it for himself (the iceland/greenland thing), keeping the north pole frigid for santa’s sake, and whipping up the occasional snow storm to anyone who asks for one, which he seems more than willing to deliver. how father winter and mother nature would allow him to operate this way, i don’t know, but i think snow’s tied specifically to the north pole. he watches business up there and father winter and everyone else deals with the rest of the world (which also means the north wind works under him.)

i also think that either father winter or snow miser himself gave the winter warlock his powers (snow miser the more unlikely of the two bc father winter was capable of turning jack into a human, so why not vice versa?), as a means of employing some more help for the winter season, but something went wrong along the way and it led to the winter warlock's “corruption” until kris kringle (santa) came along and helped him get back to his old self

i think snow miser is quite powerful but he’s not the biggest one out there

#its 1:20AM. thinjing about important stuff #text #rankin bass

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lhaewiel · 4 years ago

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Tagged by @rafyki, thank you dear :)

What is the color of your hairbrush? Light blue - it is an old thing from 10 yrs ago

Name a food you never eat. I am somewhat a picky eater and Husband, who is a chef and is constantly 100% done with my pickiness, knows it well. I can say that to this day I adamantly refuse to eat cucumbers, artichokes and cauliflowers. Husband pointed out that maybe it has to do with flavour and I can see that maybe he has a point, but still.

Are you typically too cold or too warm? Too warm all the time. I am like a firebender and it has happened that friends would just shove their hands in mine so that they could use me as their personal hand-warmer. I swear, it’s fucking 10°C now and I am sweating as if I was in a rainforest.

What were you doing 45 minutes ago? I was playing Love Nikki

What is your favorite candy bar? Snickers, it’s the peanuts + caramel combo. This reminds me also that I can’t eat them anymore, I am diabetic and the amount of sugar in those is ungodly.

Have you ever been to a professional sport event? Yep. My high school PE teacher was also a ski teacher who hosted several competitions.

What is the last thing you said out loud? "Yes darling, I am going to finish the laundry, give me a minute to finish this meme” lol

What is your favorite ice cream? MINT, STRACCIATELLA, CREAM, HAZELNUT

What was the last thing you had to drink? Diet coke

Do you like your wallet? I'd like it more if it had any money in it lol

What was the last thing you ate? A pear

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? No

The last sporting event you watched? I think I enjoyed watching Husband looking at Juventus vs Milan

What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? Classic, salted

Who is the last person you sent a text message to? It’s @the-nonchalance-draws

Ever go camping? Been there, done that for years, I prefer being in a nice hotel.

Do you take vitamins? No, my GP must prescribe them if needed, because I am diabetic

Do you go to church every Sunday? I think I would suddenly take fire if I stepped into one. Still surprised nothing happened at my wedding lol, aka 1st time in forever that I actually went for a mass and possibly last time. I am not really a Christian anymore, but I must keep up appearances with the Family.

Do you have a tan? I LOATHE tanning. Leave me with my pearly skin please.

Do you prefers Chinese food or pizza? I am okay with both. Tbh I am craving pasta rather than pizza or Chinese

Do you drink soda with a straw? Depends, if it is a soda can the yes, not if it is soda in a bottle.

What color socks do you usually wear? I don’t particularly care tbh

Do you ever drive above the speed limit? I don’t drive even though I have a licence. A car, while renting a house and having to deal with all the expenses is not cheap.

What terrifies you? on a material level, spiders. I usually call for Husband to take them outside. On an abstract level, loneliness

Look to your left, what do you see? My bookshelves

What chore do you hate? Drying the dishes. I want a dishwasher so I don’t have to do that.

What do you think of when you hear Australian accent? The Easter Bunny.

What’s your favorite soda? ESTATHE, which again I can’t drink because SUGAR

Do you go into fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? Fast foods usually, lately it is deliveroo or uber eats

Who’s the last person you talked to? Husband

Favorite cut of beef? Not “beef”, it’s veal.

Last song you listen to? Chronicle of a fallen love by The Bloody Beetroots

Last book you read? The Witcher by Andrzej Sapkowski

Favorite day of the week? Saturday and Sunday

Can you say the alphabet backwards? Yes

How do you like your coffee? I don’t. I drink tea.

Favorite pair of shoes? Ballerina shoes.

The time you normally go to sleep? 11PM-Midnight

The time you normally get up? 7AM-8AM

What do you prefer, sunrise or sunset? Sunset

How many blankets in your bed? 1 and it too much heat already. Also, Husband becomes a literal oven at night, so no thank you, I don’t need more heat.

Describe you kitchen plates. Sainsbury’s plain white plates

Do you have favorite alcoholic beverage? Yes, it’s rose wine, which I can’t drink unless it is EXTREMELY diluted, because SUGAR

Do you play cards? Yes, you should see me and Dad vs Husband and dad’s fiancée

What color is your car? No car, see above.

Can you change a tire? Nope. The tyre dies on me, I’m like “cheers bro, me too” and call the mechanic

Your favorite province? Cuneo and Torino. But also Cagliari and the entirety of Tuscany

Favorite job you’ve ever had? Librarian, translator, interpreter. Instead I am in fucking Sales, hoping that my boss won’t notice that I don’t know how to do maths.

How did you get your biggest scar? I have got emotional scars.

What did you do today that made someone happy? I don’t know, lately my depression has been kicking in a lot and I tend to fail in that.

Tagging: whoever wants to do this!

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kvetas · 5 years ago

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*✿❀; general headcanons part 1 (akechi)

just some random, usually rather mundane headcanons that probably won’t fit as a theme anywhere else, yeah.

Generally refers to ‘[insert surname]-san’ to nearly everyone.

He’d make exceptions if he’s familiar enough with someone (He either generally refers to Sae as ‘Sae-san’ usually, though may attempt to jokingly call her ‘senpai’ at times) or if he’s fine with a request (So he’d refer to Sojiro as ‘Boss’ if asked, but he’d otherwise call him ‘Sakura-san’).

There’s a possibility that he’ll use different honorifics with either children or people he’s familiar with who are closer to his age. So he’d call some of the phantom thieves as ‘Takamaki-chan’ or ‘Sakamoto-kun’, for example. It’s only really just because sounds like it suits them more to him rather than any indicator of friendliness though.

And honestly, he’ll still persist at using surnames unless someone specifically requests him to be on a first name basis (or if they’re either western/literally do not have a last name) because he lacks the ability to gauge how relationships work. u_u ;;

bro will spill out his childhood drama unprompted to protag at confidant level three, especially with someone he literally just met standing right next to them, but he can’t bring himself to call someone by name?? smfh with this dude

I’m sad that the proof of justice OVA pretty much ruined my headcanon that Goro played video games as escapism growing up. But I still wanna say that if Goro did choose to play video games, he’d voluntarily play RPGs, puzzle games, and simulator games in his free time as a relaxation.

He may or may not create a Shido Sim just to torture the poor bastard as a way to vent on bad days if he got his hands on The Sims.

But he’d be willing to play any video game, even if half of the reason is just as a point of conversation.

Probably wouldn’t really scare easily on horror games. Because his life is already a goddamn horror to sit through as it is. Actually, since a lot of horror games are generally RPGs and/or puzzle games - they’re actually right up his alley.

He’d be the kind of guy who’d go “Oh, congratulations on the win. :)” but be inwardly seething in rage and already plotting 5 different possible ways to beat you after losing a game.

But this is only if it’s for a game he’s actually familiar with and got absolutely demolished on, he wouldn’t really care otherwise and would even welcome a challenge.

I feel like his hobbies were initially picked... well, to look cool, number one, but also for practical use via metaverse shenanigans. (Cycling because it’s the cheapest and fastest option to travel+gather intel but also to help his speed, bouldering for make scaling palaces easier and improve his guts, and darts to improve his proficiency.)

Though he can safely say that he genuinely enjoys these hobbies and is not actually lying through his teeth. But he doesn’t really indulge in them as much as he used to. 2/3 of the reason is because he already maxed out his guts and proficiency stats though tbh

I know that it’s common for people to believe Goro to have a preference in sweets but idk man I don’t really agree with that fanon.

Half is because he wants to be able to judge something he tastes without extra condiments and stuff possibly diluting the flavor. He has a food blog to run and reviews to write and dangit, he’s gonna write nothing but the facts!!

The other half is because he honestly isn’t picky with flavors and the guidebook even says so. Like, sure, he’d critique something to Death but he’d still eat it because you don’t waste food smfh

Even that one spicy-ass takoyaki he unintentionally ate? Like, Yeah, he clearly can’t handle spicy food too well, but he still properly ate it in my book.

Like the only exception is if it’s literally inedible. Like, ‘this is rotten!’ or ‘it fell all over the floor’ kind of inedible.

That being said, I’d say Goro’s favorite coffee blend is Columbian 100% Typica but I can’t be super sure since I’m not a huge coffee fan and I wouldn’t know for sure how it would taste

I DO agree with the fanon idea that Goro doesn’t know how to cook a whole lot (the most being simple food like. fried egg, or steamed potato, or sandwiches) and just shovels instant-made food into his mouth if he so chooses, which is literally any time he’s not trying to show off or look sophisticated.

His apartment probably has fancy, modern looking furnishings and appliances. But it looks more like a home catalogue than a teenager’s living space. (Again, out of posturing to look more esteemed than he actually feels.) Though the apartment’s size is pretty average.

He almost never gets visitors though despite all the effort, except maybe Sae for whatever reason.

The only room that actually looks lived-in is his room, the messiest thing in the room being his (long) desk since he’d generally work on stuff there.

Has a lamp, a pencil holder, a file holder, and his laptop. But also expect to see stacks of books, papers lying around, maybe an empty coffee mug or three, and tools he didn’t put away on top of it.

I can’t imagine him NOT making his own tools (lockpicks, goho-ms, etc.). But he probably had to learn how to make them through trial and error (and using google). At least he had like, two years to learn.

Of course he has a bunch of books in his house. He’s an *~~intellectual~~*, he’s gotta look the part.

Most of his bookshelves are like. Philosophy books, law books, mystery novels, school textbooks, stuff about cognitive psience, and ‘How-to’ books.

He may or may not secretly keep manga in his room.

I like to think he has a balcony. Though it’s pretty bare outside of maybe drying his clothes, he likes to contemplate about stuff out there.

He doesn’t really like staying home very much though, he only stays when necessary. Unfortunately, getting punched by depression and wanting to just lay in bed all day doesn’t count as a necessity to him, especially since he’s undiagnosed.

His fridge generally consists of takeout (either delivered from home or leftovers), beverages (like milk, iced coffee, any SP-recovering weird sodas), butter, bread, eggs, deli meat, and maybe a salad pack.

His freezer is exclusively full of frozen meals. 90% is microwaveable, while the rest of the 10% is stuff you heat up in the oven or steam it with.

His pantry is full of instant-made microwaveable food. Or stuff that doesn’t require much prep work or knowledge in the kitchen, like Mac and Cheese, Hamburger Helper, canned soup, and tuna packages.

Though he also has stuff like tea packs, hot chocolate mix, and instant coffee in the off chance he actually gets a visitor. A lot of them may or may not be past the "Best By” date.

A lot of his budget goes into skincare and hair products as a celebrity-figure that shows up on TV a lot, so predictably his bathroom is just chock full of the stuff.

GOD I WISH HIS FASHION SENSE WASN’T SO NERDY but unfortunately, he’s a kid trying to grow up too fast in order to be taken seriously and hiding the fact that he’s an orphan and didn’t have money before so we’re just gonna have to deal with his preppy grandpa fashion sense

#*( ❀❀;; gilded plumage.. )#*( ✿✿;; headcanon. )#*( ✿✿;; headcanon;; gilded plumage. )#//hi i'm jackie and i have difficulty thinking about what goro's palace would be like but i'll never shut up about what's in his kitchen #//in my defense i'm hungry

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etherealperrie · 5 years ago

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Barmaid

Brian May x Reader - Anonymous asked: “Brian x reader meeting first time at a gig, maybe she works at the bar and is dancing and he notices her?” -

Word Count: 730

A/N: Requested. Short blurb (wanted to post what I had otherwise I’d get distracted & never finish it tbh). Mentions of alcohol. A couple curse words. Meet-cute scenario. Can be read as Gwilym!Brian or Brian May himself.

The night is cold, but heat radiates from the packed alleyway as you pass through, dozens of students milling about. Your tired feet carry you around the corner, half-heartedly smiling at classmates as their drunken chatter floats past you on the late night air. The semester was finally over and much to your dismay, you didn’t get to spend the night out celebrating with your friends – with summer courses beginning in just a couple of weeks and with fees due in just a few days – you’d spend the first night of freedom working.

There was a line of students a mile long outside the pub, you knew it would be busy this time of year and since your boss finished renovating the old stage downstairs, the crowds would be larger. It wouldn’t hurt financially, but you were exhausted from the past week – countless papers, some of which you finished only hours before tonight. Sighing, you push past the crowd, tug the door open and begin the march down the stairs to the bar.

Running your hands across the marble bar top, you take a deep breath and familiarize yourself to the new setting. You typically spent your shifts upstairs but with the new venue, you’d be bartending underground competing with the sound of whatever trash college band your boss hired for the night. It wasn’t ideal but you didn’t have much of a choice: Biba wasn’t exactly your vibe and another year of babysitting wouldn’t be enough to cover one graduate course.

You tie an apron around your waist and begin prepping, trying to push out the sound of microphones being tested as you cut up a few limes for garnish. Checking the clock, you groan, wiping your hands clean against the black embroidered fabric of your apron. Reluctantly, you push yourself up and grab the ice bucket from the cabinet and make your way across the room to the back, distracted by some roadies setting up a drum kit. Curious, you try to make out the logo – but it’s nothing you’d seen before.

“Excuse me?” a soft voice calls out, accompanied by a feather-light touch on the back of your exposed bicep.

“Hmm?” you hum, looking up to find a mop of dark curls hanging in a pair of honey brown eyes, crinkled at the sides courtesy of his crooked smile.

“Have you seen the barkeep ‘round here? My mates are looking for some liquid courage before our set.” His voice is light and rhythmic. He didn’t seem like the type of guy you’d find performing in a bar – maybe in the front row of your bio class but not here. He seemed almost too innocent, too kind to be in a place as scuzzy as this.

Lifting the still unfilled ice-bucket, you shrug, “that would be me.”

He raises an eyebrow in surprise, but nods in understanding as he glances down at your apron. He wondered what someone like you was doing here. It didn’t seem to him like you enjoyed any aspect of this and he was pretty sure he’d seen you on campus and that you assisted in his sociology course, but he didn’t want to ask – he knew circumstance often overcame reason or logic.

“What can I get for you?” you ask, recapturing his attention. As he licked his lip, something about him felt familiar, but you would have remembered him – tall and thin, with hair that amassed his physical presence.

“Four pints of lager.”

“You make my job easy,” you laugh, hurrying past him to the freezer sitting in the corner of the room and quickly fill the bucket – turning around to find him still watching you. “I can – uh – bring those back to you in a bit.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Right, thanks.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he sighs and turns on his heel.

“Hope your band is good – everyone else will be drunk, so they won’t remember if you’re shit; but I will.”

You didn’t know where the comment came from, you weren’t typically one for quick quips, but the smile that flickered across his lips set something off in you.

He chuckles to himself and shakes his head, “it’s our first time with two new members so take it easy on us.”

“I’ll be back with those drink soon,” you pause, leaning across the bar.

“Brian.”

“Right, Brian.”

#brian may #gwilym!brian #gwilym lee!brian may #brian may x reader #gwilym lee x reader #etherealperrie #my writings #requested #it's not super long or developed plot wise but i just kind of wanted to write a little meet-cute #i could take it farther but it would take me forever to come up with a more detailed plot so hope y'all can enjoy this!!!#queen x reader #bohemian rhapsody #bo rhap cast

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broadstreetmisfits · 6 years ago

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I work here - Andre Burakovsky

Requested: 1 from your prompt list with Andre Burakovsky?

Prompt: “Fancy seeing you here” “I work here”

Warnings: None? Just Burky being adorable tbh

Summary: You meed Andre as your waitress job the day after he acknowledges you at a game

Word Count: 1.1k

(Y/BF/N)- Your best friend’s name

(R/N)- Restaurant name

You were at a Capitals game with your best friend. Somehow she was able to get you amazing seats right next to where the Capitals came out to the ice from the locker room. It was a regular season game, but any outsider would’ve thought differently. The Capitals were playing against the Pittsburgh Penguins after all. The score was 3-3 and the second period had just ended. You were about to go up to walk around the concourse when your friend stopped you.

“Y/N, wait” she began “let’s wait for the players to walk back into the locker room, see if we can get any high fives or waves or something.”

You agreed, and allowed your arm to hang over the side of the rail. Both you and your best friend got a few high fives and waves as the team walked down the runway. Even your favorite player, Andre Burakovsky gave you a little smile – or at least that’s what you’d like to think.

As the second intermission came to a close, you sat back down in your seat and watched as the players skated onto the ice for the final period. With three minutes left in the third period, the game was still tied and you saw Andre going to get the puck and immediately one of the referees whistles blew.

“Washington, number 65! Two minutes for interference” The ref announced causing the fans in Capital One Arena to boo.

You shook your head as you watched Andre make his way to the box. He wasn’t happy with the call. No one would be if that was against their team. As he sat in the penalty box, you couldn’t help but sneak a few glances his way. You watched as he bopped his head along to the beat of some of the songs that were playing in between the other whistles. At one point during the penalty, your best friend hit your arm.

“Y/N! Y/N” Y/BF/N said lightly hitting your arm. “Burky’s looking at you”

“Yeah, and pigs fly” You rolled your eyes as you turned your attention to your friend

“No, I’m serious, look” She motioned to the penalty box

You followed her hand and sure enough, Andre Burakovsky was looking at you. When you two made eye contact his lips broke into a small smile. Just that alone caused your face to heat up and you were probably as red as the jersey you were wearing.

Burakovsky got let out of the box after he served his two minutes. There was a minute left in the period and the game was still tied. Apparently the Penguins weren’t aware that Andre got let out of the box, because no man was covering him. This allowed for a breakaway and eventually a goal.

You and Y/BF/N stood up and cheered as the horn sounded through the arena. As Andre and the rest of the team skated back to the bench, he looked up at you and gave you a little wave.

The game ended with the Caps winning 4-3. As the team made their way down the tunnel and into the locker room for the last time, you and Y/BF/N went back to your spot up against the railing.

“Andre! Great goal!” You called as he was walking past

He stopped, turned to look at you and smiled. He then walked over to you and lifted his stick up for you to grab.

Your lips broke into a smile as you took it up. “Thank you so much!” You smiled again, he waved and then disappeared down the tunnel.

The next day you entered the restaurant where you worked as a waitress. It was a Friday night and the place was hopping to say the least. You were currently in the back preparing to go to your next table and introduce yourself and take drink orders when your boss stopped you.

“Y/N, we have a party of ten that I’m letting you take that. They’re in the back private room.” He said and then walked away.

You nodded even though your boss couldn’t even see you. You walked to the back room preparing to take the party’s orders. When you opened the door you were surprised to see ten of the Washington Capitals sitting at the table including none other than Andre Burakovsky.

“Hi, welcome to R/N. My name is Y/N and I’ll be your waitress for the night. Can I start you off with something to drink?” You asked as you put a smile on your face.

You went around the table as the guys all told you what they would want to start off with. You could feel your stomach fill with butterflies as you got closer to serving Andre.

“Fancy seeing you here” he said before you could ask what he wanted

“I work here” You managed to crack a playful smile as you motioned to your nametag “Now what would you like to drink?”

“I’ll just have a water please” He smiled back as you scribbled it down on your notepad and walked away

You came back with half of the groups drinks since you couldn’t hold all ten at once. As you walked past Andre, he motioned you to come over.

“Forget my drink love?” He asked with a smirk

You shook your head as you replied “don’t get ahead of yourself. I still need to get four of your teammate’s drinks as well”

Throughout the entire night you and Andre were shamelessly flirting. You were incredibly comfortable around the huge hockey star which completely surprised you since he was an NHL player and you were just an average girl.

The Capitals time at your restaurant was coming to a close as they had requested the check. You walked back to the register after Andre handed you the check. Once you reached the register and began to process the payment, you noticed something scribbled down on the corner of the receipt. It was a short message, only saying “call me” with his number scratched down.

When you looked back up at the table, you found Andre looking over at you with a shy smile on his face. In response, you put a small smile on their face and nodded which caused his small smile to grow bigger.

As soon as you got off work that night you pulled out your phone and texted the number immediately. It was a short text, but it definitely got what you wanted to say across.

You: Hey, it’s Y/N! Can’t wait to see you again

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up with a response from the Swede.

Andre: Same here! When are you next available?

#hockey writing #hockey imagines #nhl #andre burakovsky #washington capitals #stanley cup champions #stanley cup #requested

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coollyinterferes · 6 years ago

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DASHBOARD GAME: CHARACTER DETAIL.

GENERAL.

NAME: Robert E. O. Speedwagon NICKNAME(S): Some people have called him some related to his last name (Speed, Speeds, Speedy, etc) but the only “official” one so far is Boss, by his Ogre Street pals. Uncle Speedy/Uncle Speedwagon for older Robert (ya know, once George II is born and etc). AGE: 25-ish years in the main verse (which is set somewhere around the latest part of PB/post!PB). SPECIES: Human/Stand User (though he’s not aware of the latter yet ;; )

PERSONAL.

MORALITY: lawful / neutral / chaotic (somewhere in between neutral and chaotic tbh) / good / evil RELIGIOUS BELIEF: He does believe there might be a greater force and does believe in afterlife as well, however, he doesn’t practice a religion due to the lack of a proper education on the matter as well as the church as an institution making things tough for men like him. VICES: envy / greed / lust / gluttony / sloth / pride / wrath (both of these to some extent only, and they apply the most to his street thug days) / despair VIRTUES: chastity / humility / charity / diligence / kindness / patience / temperance PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: To be there for those he truly cares about as much as he can. In general, he seeks for happiness and some stability in his life, seeing how there’s always been a lot of chaos one way or another in it (something that canonly seems to be a constant in his life even in his elder years). LANGUAGES KNOWN: English, some Spanish and bits of other languages he’s managed to grab from his journeys around the world (sometimes enough to hold a basic conversation). Some tiiiny bits of Chinese he’s learned from Kenpo Master, too, but don’t ask him to read something in that language, heh. SECRETS: He tries to keep his homosexuality a secret from society, even though most (if not all) people in Ogre Street already knows about it. No one really bats an eye at that there since this sort of stuff was common in the slums in Victorian times, not to mention that Ogre Street is a place with no real law other than his own (since, well... he’s the boss). The whole thing that happened with Dio as well remains a secret along with Hamon and pretty much everything supernatural he witnessed back then, as stated in canon at some point in PB. BT!Speeb also keeps a secret all those side goals of the Speedwagon Foundation, such as all the supernatural fenomena the organization studies (like the Stone Masks and the Pillar Men). SAVVIES: Despite his lack of an actual education due to him growing up orphan and in the streets (pretty much as a street urchin), he’s a fast learner in general. He learned how to read as a child thanks to a friend of his who had some basic knowledge on this matter. Most of his hand tricks and general stuff he’s learned them through experience, some others through trial and error as well as some others seeing other people perform them and coming up on his own with some others. There’re some others he’s had to learn yes or yes, such as swimming ;;;;

PHYSICAL.

BUILD: scrawny / bony / slender / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / pudgy / average / muscled HEIGHT: 5'11", very close to 6’ SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: The most noticeable one would be the one scar on his face that goes from the top of his nose to the bottom of his left cheek. His body is heavily scarred, his hands/arms and chest, mostly, but he also has a few on his legs. Most of them are quite notorious given his wrecked way of life prior the events in PB, along with the fact that he’s never really had access to proper health care up to this point, so he usually deals with wounds in any way he can manage to. How is it none of them have gotten infected in a time where higiene wasn’t precisely a priority? No one knows. Sheer luck, I guess. He also has some he got during the events in PB (the fire at the Joestar mansion, fending off zombies, etc). ABILITIES/POWERS: He’s a rather strong man despite his status as an “average human”. His body is also strong and can endure a lot, quite above the average person’s (seeing how he was canonly able to survive attacks that actually obliterated other people). He’s mentally strong, too, as stated somewhere in BT (seeing how even the freaking Na/z/is aknowledged that not even torture would work on getting info out of him). He’s good at hand to hand combat as well as using knives and guns, and the sledgehammer, too. He can also tell a bad person from a good one out of their smell alone, something he developed after years and years of living surrounded by all sorts of evil. He’s also an unofficial source of heat of sorts lol. For this blog, I’ve also given him a Stand. It isn’t fully developed yet, and he also has no knowledge about it’s existence either yet, but it’s abilities include healing as well as time travelling. While it can pack a punch or two if needed, it isn’t exactly a fighting stand, falling more under the support category. RESTRICTIONS: His nature as a regular human, perhaps? That’s what always keeps him on the sidelines during the big battles, as he has no supernatural powers in canon, and what makes him feel super impotent whenever these times come, as there’s little he can do when these battles take place.

FAVOURITES.

FOOD: He’s fond of pastries. Any sorts of them, really. However, with a past like his, immersed in actual poverty and starvation at some points, has made him not too picky with food in general. DRINK: Tea. As stated before, he isn’t too picky with these either, however, there are some Chinese teas Kenpo’s gotten for them all that he enjoys over all the others. PIZZA TOPPING: Historically, actual pizzas (the type we all know and love) became a thing around the late 1880s, so there wasn’t like A LOT to choose from back then. He’s liked every type he’s tried so far, so there’s that. In threads involving time travelling, he’s always open to try new types of food, and pizza is not an exception (with toppings that lean slightly more towards the sweet side among some of his faves). COLOR(S): Taking canon into consideration, purple and green seem to be some of his fave. Bright colors such as pink, too. MUSIC GENRE: He enjoys the music that’s usually played in the bars/pubs he normally attends. He also likes some of the music the street music players make (because, yeah, street music players were a thing in Victorian England). BOOK GENRE: He enjoys reading a lot, so he always reads whatever catches his eye regardless of the genre. MOVIE GENRE: No movies for Victorian kids, sadly. If he happens to watch some during any of his journeys through time, he’ll most likely end up enjoying stuff like suspense and comedy but, just like with books, he probably won’t have a fave genre and will watch just about anything that catches his eye (because he be like that) SEASONS: Autumn. He’s largely used to cold weather, but he does enjoy warm Spring days as well. SCENT(S): He’s fond of the fresh scent of nature. Stuff like woods and certain types of flowers’, mostly.

FUN STUFF.

SINGS IN THE SHOWER: He does tend to hum (and sometimes sing, too) while taking a bath. He originally did so as a way to keep his mind busy and away from how fucking ice cold the water was, as he’d normally take baths in natural bodies of water he managed to find. He then became used to humming/singing, so he still does it even now that he doesn’t have to go through the same ordeal he once did when he was younger. LIKES BAD PUNS: Loves them. CURSE WORD: As someone who’s lived in the streets (the slums, more specifically) for about two decades and has had connections with mafia people and other peeps with questionable backgrounds, there’s a bunch of them he makes use of very often, being “bloody” (if it counts as such?) and “fuck” some of them.

TAGGED BY: @wildberryoras (thank you so much for the tag, buddy!!) TAGGING: Was tagged in this one a while back, so anyone and everyone who hasn’t done this and want to give it a try! Just take it from his warm gay hands and say we tagged you uwu

#;headcanon #;basics

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wecraftin · 4 years ago

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The New Frontier: Peanus

so. played a new save of rlcraft for quite a few hours today (obviously i named it peanus), and made some pretty poggers progress, (mostly thanks to the lycanites mobs Halloween treat things) but first, i spawned in a beautiful clearing with a bunch of happy peaceful plant dinosaurs (arisaurs, i think? one suffocated in a wall so i got some meat). ofc the first rule of rlcraft is to get flint shit to get wood, so i did that. my few first nights were spent in this cramped little rocky hut, in a gray sleeping bag.

but of course, i knew i had to find shelter. my personal belief with rlcraft is that it’s better to find a structure and live in it versus trying to build your own; mainly because it usually takes longer to build and can put you in danger. i met a friendly nymph on the way, after having crafted myself some basic iron tools (and leveling up my skills from killing a lot of makas and mining coal)

as you can see, there’s a boss meter in my hud?? at fist this bamboozled me but with all the dungeons underground i definitely understood where the bugger would be. i wanted to kill it, since it gives you a beast soulstone (an item that summons a beast-type mob that is soul bound to you and is like a pet). but obviously i had to get more gear and a place to live.

apologies of lack of screenshots for this section, but, i found a little hut in the woods and set up camp. got myself a bed and everything, set up heating coils and cooling coils (which i got the magma shards and ice cubes from dungeons and an ice biome, not fun. almost froze to death) and made myself at home. i decided to open more of my trick or treat bags.

not a good idea, clearly. after i recovered and killed the stupid thing, i basically spent the whole day hunting and opening the treat bags. they gave me things ranging from iron blocks to ender pearls and diamonds, so it was sort of worth it. or not, since I opened one while on the beach and died again, losing my summoning staff.

however! once i felt i was ready, i entered the dungeon. a few blocks away from my hut there’s an entrance on the surface to it, and so i began my hunt for the phosphorescent chupacabra that lived under my house.

i found an awesome room filled with a fuck ton of emerald blocks. pretty pog.

then, i found the little shit. i walled myself off and killed it like that, because it’s projectiles hurt BAD. it dropped a lot of chupacabra meat and a beast soulstone!

i used it when i got back to the surface (along with my newly crafted diamond saber) and I got a feradon mount! he’s such a good boy. idk what to name him though.

and that’s about it! i haven’t done anything related to ice and fire yet, so that’s my next goal, along with getting better equipment. tbh im proud of my progress :)

#rlcrafting

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the-heroic-wanderer · 7 years ago

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RULES: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 92 truths about you. at the end choose 25 people to be tagged.

Tagged by @gowak You wanted to know this about me? Then I’ll answer in kind)

LAST:

drink: Lemon Ice Tea

phone call: My Dad

text message: “Not the best but interesting.”

song you listened to: David Jordan: Sun goes down (Which was what the text message was about)

time you cried: Depends...Cried due to joy/laughing too hard? Watching a Dark Souls Boss Get rekt and the reaction of the lper when it happened. Due to sad? Litterally 2 weeks ago when I thought about the Death of the Going Merry from One Piece...it’s a boat...but it was THEIR boat.

HAVE YOU EVER:

dated someone twice: Nope

been cheated on: Nope

lost someone special: Haven’t we all? If you say you haven’t then you have never lived.

been depressed: *shrug* to pull the ONLY line I ever remember from Wander Over Yonder ; “The helper seeks to help, because he knows what it’s like to be helpless.” I try to make people smile and laugh, cause I know what it feels like to have not a smile or a chuckle in your heart.

been drunk and thrown up: Drunk 3 times, thrown up as an end result?

IN THE PAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

made a new friend: Too many to count, yet never seemingly enough to stop more from showing up.

fallen out of love: With a person? Not really. With something I used to love otherwise? Kinda.

laughed until you cried:See answer for Last Time I cried.

met someone who changed you: Change isn’t impossible, it just takes time, and that’s something I have in short supply.

found out who your true friends are: Never second guessed who they were, so yes.

found out someone was talking about you: At least 4 to five times a week.

GENERAL:

how many people on tumblr do you know in real life?: Technically 3

do you have any pets?: 2 cats 1 dog

do you want to change your name?: Tbh yes, because some times I just hear it so much I’ve grown tired of it.

what time did you wake up this morning: Woke up at 9 am as I had work.

what were you doing last night: Work then home for video games and silent thinking, same as most days.

name something you cannot wait for: People to understand the fact I can’t understand sarcasm,,,and for people to stop being dumb and just smarten up.(to pull a quote from my mothers book)

have you ever talked to a person named tom?: A Thomas? Yes. A Tom as in just Tom? No

what’s getting on your nerves right now: My own lack of self motivation to work on somethings, and my fat ass s.o.b. cat lying on my arm that won’t go away!

blood type: O-

nickname: I’ve got a few: Mattie, Wander,Wanderer, Heroic and (only by 3 friends) Wander Bear

relationship status: In yet Open

zodiac sign: Gemini, still need to find my supposed twin/double in the world and ask him/them where the hell they’ve been.

pronouns: Him, they, he, his, bacon,them,that dick right there, Matt. No idea wtf people call me for pronouns nor care.

favorite show: Too many to count and too many theme songs over lapping.

college: Not yet but need to.

hair color: Oak brown.

do you have a crush on someone: Yes

what do you like about yourself: My voice, my generosity at the point of (as I call it) forceful kindness, my calf muscles that I’m very proud of, and the fact I have such amazing friend (Looking at some others but @gowak @chance-of-chaos @echolands)

FIRSTS:

first surgery: Fractured skull, so I have a plate in my head now!

first piercing: Not gonna happen

first sport you joined: Soccer (Parents chose) Rugby by own choice

first vacation: A lake a few towns over, was kinda nice, caught my first fish there. A sunfish.

first pair of sneakers: 6 years old plain white and blue, cause I even back then thought sketchers light up when you step was dumb as sh*t

RIGHT NOW:

eating: Chips, pringles for specifics.

drinking: Lemon Ice Tea, like I said before.

i’m about to: Go to bed cause I’m tired as balls while writing this but was like; “Ya know what? screw it, might as well put it all out there.”

listening to: The sound of my heater spinning up heating our house, and just before that, Battle Bus Boogie by JT Music.

want kids: Adopt and maybe have? Long as someone remembers me.

get married: Sure, though I want to be sure before anything.

career: Cook/baker atm but not exactly what I want to be my perma career, as well as essentially a couple Councillor and general therapist for people cause people know I actually listen and give a sh*t about them.

WHICH IS BETTER:

lips or eyes: Eyes (Same as gowak said)

hugs or kisses: Hugs...mainly cause I have my own Bear Crusher Bear hug which has on two occasions popped someones back and helped them feel better. Also I am not a HUGE fan of kissing, just feels strange to me I guess.

shorter or taller: Be you, doesn’t matter the size.

older or younger: Age brings wisdom but often wear, youth brings energy but inexperience and risk of permanent damage.

romantic or spontaneous: Both I’d say as they can both yield positive results in the end if done correctly.

sensitive or loud: Sensitive? Cause not sure what you’d mean by loud?

hookup or relationship: Relationship but due to my current relationship and also the weird things I’ve already encountered in my life hookup isn’t all that weird...awkward yes but not weird.

troublemaker or hesitant: Be yourself and we shall see.

HAVE YOU EVER:

kissed a stranger: To save a life? No As a romantic gesture? I did offer once cause it was the technical girlfriend of a buddy of mine and I JUST met her.

drank hard liquor: Yes, unrelated; FUCK yager bombs.

lost contacts/glasses: I’ve had to wear glasses since I was like 9....that should answer the question pretty well.

sex on first date: Still a virgin so yeah no... and not for lack of trying I guess, more just I am not the type of guy who forces or would know how to react to the situation despite myself.

broken someone’s heart: *Sigh* yes...twice but only due to the fact I could never return their feelings.

been arrested: Nope, but almost did due to an event that happened in the last month of middle school. Yes theirs a story to it.

turned someone down: If you’re referring to, turn down for a date? Yes. Turn down the bass? Yes also,

fallen for a friend: Yep...currently 3 times is the total

DO YOU BELIEVE:

in yourself: Heads I do tails I don’t It’s all the flip of a coin most days but mainly I just don’t care.

miracles: Never doubted they can happen,

love at first sight: Not really, but second or third? Maybe.

Also don’t know 25 people nor do I know any who weren’t tagged by @gowak, so...If you see this on my page and read this far then consider taggin yourself and doing it! Just remember to tag me at the top so I can read it I guess.

#tag meme #truth #truthbetold #truthseeker #memes

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thedepressedweasel · 7 years ago

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Please don’t assume that everyone had a wonderful family.

My ex-brother (whom I cut out of my life two years ago) has always been abusive to me since I was born and is also an ableist dickbag to boot. He’s also the kind of person who will beat you up, scream at you, call you names, harass you, badger you, cuss you out, etc., but won’t ever take it back.

And yet people always get so personally fucking insulted enough to say “But he’s your brother, you shouldn’t say those things about him, you should just always love, worship and respect him, no matter what!”

Excuse me, go fuck yourselves!

If your brother treats you like some brothers treat their siblings, you wouldn’t call him that either.

I will say whatever the fuck I want about him; therefore, I will also call him whatever the fuck I want!

He had called me many names to boot, such as stupid, fat, ugly, retard(ed), slut, whore, bitch, cunt, skank, ho, hooker, autist (I’m autistic BTW), stinky, smelly, (fucking) animal, useless, worthless, fatass, piece of shit, beached whale, annoying, obese prostitute, unfuckable, etc.

I call him a beast and an asshole because that’s what he is, he’s a fucking monster!

Before I go on to list abusive things that he did, please don’t say things like “Oh I hate my brother because he got an iPhone X for Christmas and I didn’t”. Don’t get me wrong; I won’t try to belittle your problems, but there are times that there’s nothing to belittle.

When I was little, I tried to get him to play with me and he kept saying things like “Go away!”, “Nobody likes you, etc.”, and yet I wouldn’t shut up, so he beat me up.

Also, even when I was little, he wasn’t above and, therefore, thought nothing twice of, belittling my intelligence (even though I was a good student).

One time, I wanted to watch Timon & Pumbaa and when I was watching its one episode in his room, he kept screaming abusive words in my face and even said that he would beat me so hard he could “send me flying to China”.

He even had horrible fantasies about murdering me in different ways and even beat me so bad that he “would send me flying to Australia or China”.

Then when I was in middle school, he became progressively worse; he would belittle me for watching cartoons (when he would do the same, just to be a hypocrite). He belittled me over my healthy appreciation for Pokemon and Super Smash Bros., tried to rip my Pokemon Stadium 2 poster, Pokemon Gold & Silver poster and Pokemon Crystal poster, respectively (just because he hated them), told me that nobody liked me, that everyone hated me, and even told me to shut up all the time. He would also punch and kick doors everywhere within my ear range (which even carried on well into adulthood until he moved out to New York two years ago) just because he could.

One night on my 14th birthday party, he beat me on the head so hard that I was afraid that I was going to get brain damage after that and it was all because I called him a “motherfucker” for being an abusive scumbag (but that’s what he is TBH). A couple of days later, he beat me up again and it was all because I was trying to kill a mosquito with a fly swatter and I called it the same name that I had called him for being abusive. He also became increasingly hostile towards me and even my “parents”, and yet they wouldn’t try to do anything about it.

Oh, and one time, when I rented Sonic Adventure 2: Battle (say hello to Shadow, people, because that’s what I did) and I chose to start with the Hero Story and, therefore, was already fighting the first boss, my ex-brother walked in on me during said boss battle and, instead of encouraging me that I could beat it, he said that I sucked. Also, when I finally got Sonic Heroes for my eighth grade graduation present, he tried to steal it from me whenever he got the chance.

Oh, and the last time we came to Calistoga (my grandpa was having a birthday there atm), my ex-brother was watching TV and at the same time, screaming at my “mom” and my grandma to shut up just because they couldn’t stop talking.

When I was 15, when a family friend’s father died and my “parents” came over to her house for condolences, I was using my “dad”’s computer when that hideous scumbag of a brother chased me around the house and even threatened to bash my head against the wall until it turned into mush (it sadly wasn’t the first time, though, since he also kept threatening to do that a year prior).

Also, when we went to this even in high school called “Breaking Down the Walls” and I misunderstood something and, therefore, embarrassed him by mistake, other siblings would simply sit their siblings down and talk to them about it and how they feel about it. But not my ex-brother; he really took it the wrong way, so when he came home from school, he immediately beat me up (even while I was trying to do my homework) and it was so bad that I came to school with several bruises and cuts everywhere on my body the next day.

When I was 16, I remember hiding in the water closet with the door locked because my ex-brother was punching and kicking walls and doors and even said that he would break and destroy my face; it was all over the fucking heat machine (which also doubled as an air conditioner every summer) working, since he saw that I was cold and just didn't care at all.

When I was 18, he beat me up on Thanksgiving...and it was over a fucking middle finger.

A year later, he beat me up because I was upset and crying after my “mom” verbally abused me.

I remember being mostly homeless (and living with my grandparents) at age 19.

When I was 22, he called me stupid because my “parents” sent me to get him to help and since he was eating something atm, I couldn't get him to help them with their groceries or something while they (and even my grandparents) just stood idly by and did a big fat nothing about it (my grandpa tried talking to him about it, though).

When I was 23, he lied to my “parents” about me writing stuff about him on Facebook everyday (when, really, I was writing more on JustRage.com instead) and forced them to take away my laptop. Then a few weeks later, when we were moving from Henderson to Las Vegas, I was taking a shower and I was going to blowdry my hair and then straighten it (since I took and still take pride in maintaining straight hair) and he took it the wrong way and not only punched and kicked walls and doors everywhere, but also beat me up (even when I finally got the courage to fight back), bashed my head against the wall and even threw away my GameCube, blowdryer, etc. (I did get them back, though) and even stole my phone, only for my “dad” to make him give it back to me. Then the bext day, we were going to Soyo Barstaurant (it is the weirdest Korean restaurant that I know) and I did what other humans did best, such as breathing, to which he took it the wrong way and screamed at me for breathing. Like, do you really want me to die, asshole? He also screamed at my “parents” and told them bad things about me and even said that they should have me euthanized, all the while misgendering me. Then once we were insude the restaurant, he was still screaming in my face, as if he was possessed by some demon and when I tried to reason with him, he screamed things like “Shut the fuck up, you fucking retard! I’ve always hated you since birth!” My “parents”, though, still did nothing about it. Then the next day, he was still badmouthing me, misgendering me on purpose (I was an AFAB), and even terrorized me.

He also did many more bad things to me, even when we moved again a year later.

At age 24, I tried to get some ice cream and he called me a fat pig and even threatened to beat me up over it, since he cared more about sleep instead of my happiness.

At age 26, he not only did more bad things to me, but even beat me up in the head, punched my rib cage to the point where the bruise on it would last for several weeks on end and even punched my belly so bad that I not only almost died after that, but I was also afraid that because of him, I would never be able to have any children...and it was all because I had enough and tried to run away.

Then a few months later, when my “parents” had to go to California to see what was up with my grandpa (he had dementia and was in the hospital atm because he was hitting my grandma, who had called the cops on him, thrice), my ex-brother beat me up for having cheesecake (I called the cops on him for that, even though they let him go after coming over the next day) and then pulled me out of class the next day, even stealing many of my electronics just because he could. Then the next day, he even stole the keys from me and wouldn't even let me check the mail, even saying “shut up” when I nicely asked to have them back...and then eventually beat me up. That was when I started breaking down, crying and even thinking “How can my own brother, my own flesh and blood, hate me so much? What the hell have I done to him to make me hate him so much?”, to which he just stood there and laughed sadistically in my face. I was not allowed to even lock my door or hide anywhere, even when he chased me with a knife and said that he was going to kill me (I think he might've been in gangs or something like that since high school, just an assumption). Then the next day, he punched and kicked my bedroom door as well as the walls upstairs, belittled my intelligence, badgered me, taunted me, laughed at me, called me names like fat, ugly, stupid, piece of shit, worthless, useless, obese, etc., said that all I did was “eat, shit and sleep” (when in reality, I was---am---the one who has always helped even more than he ever did) and even said that I would never be able to drive or get a job (when in reality, I could go to job training and he was the one who had prevented me from getting a job for several years on end) and that I was only good for sex. He also had tried to rape me for a few days and, therefore, a few times. When I was eating a chocolate muffin, he cruelly snatched it away from me and even crushed it into mush and threw it out in order to prevent me from eating, and then he deliberately jabbed at my throat and punched me. He also then told me that if I told anyone about it, he would murder me in cold blood and rape my corpse and that when my “parents” would die from old age, he would leave me out in the cold and kick me out and that not even my uncle and my grandparents would ever look for me neither (when in reality, I’m the one who has spent more time with them than he ever would) and that everyone hated me. He would also only let me have one meal a day and even told my “parents” through the phone that they should buy me lots of extra-strength diet pills. He still beat me up again the next day (my “parents” were finally coming back atm).

Then the next month, he called me stupid again after he called my “mom” and she forced me to pick up the phone for her against my will.

He did everything he could to make me even twice as miserable as himself.

Then when he moved out to New York, I immediately cut him out of my life and as a result, he could never hurt me again.

Please don't say things like “I hate my brother because he's autistic and annoying and I want him dead” or “I hate my brother because he got an iPhone X for Christmas and I didn't!”

Believe me, all I ever wanted for Yuletide/Christmas (or Hanukkah when I was younger) was a brother who was really nice, loving, caring, mutually helpful, mutually supportive, thoughtful, nurturing, protective (but not overprotective) and very kind so we could be best friends for siblings instead of a monster and his broken little ASAB (assigned sister at birth).

I could go on, but this is my story, so please don't belittle it by saying “I hate my brother because he's annoying” or “I hate my brother because he got an iPhone X for Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa and I didn't.”

Reblog if you know what real sibling abuse is.

#i hate my brother #sibling abuse #abusive brothers #abusive siblings #fatphobia tw #domestic violence tw #abusive parents tw #ableism tw

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jejublr · 7 years ago

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Seatmate!Joshua

A/N: I AM BACK!! OH MY GOD??? How have you guys been?? How was your holiday?? Mine’s ending next week as school starts on Monday ^^ I’ll post requests in this following week so be sure to check them out! I’m sorry for this to tale so long but here is the requested Seatmate!Jisoo!

(Also whenever I think about the Chocolate MV, I get reminded of that “Joystick” line Joshua sung lmaooo)

Ok everybody saw this coming

Joshua is the Good Kid™

The one the teachers love because he’s so respectful and always submits his homework and assignments on time *

He’s that kid who says s*** like “I didn’t study for the exam” and “I think I’m not going to pass” but passes with a f***ing A++ anyways

Everybody knows him as a friendly face who always smiles and say hi to people in the hallways

Does a lot of volunteering

Can be seen with his guitar doing YouTube covers during recess

Very kind and would drop everything to help someone

Like that time when he was super late to school because he was helping a pregnant lady get to the hospital??

The teacher was like “lmao get in, Joshua, everything ’swell”

Which also means he gets away with things without even trying bc everybody knows Joshua’s a good kid

He knows it too but he never use it to his advantage someone protect this angel

He’s got quite some fans at school ok

The funny part is when you got Joshua as your seatmate

Maybe it’s just the Universe’s idea of a joke

Because quite the contrary, you’re every definition of a rebel

You sleep a lot in class

Gets into the occasional fights but nothing too serious

You’re a familiar face in detention (for various reasons)

And while you do submit your homework/assignments, they’re almost always late

Despite all that, you pass your classes with good marks, much to the teachers astonishment and irk

And while you don’t cause that much trouble, you do intimidate people

Which led you to having few to no friends

And it awes people when they see the contrast between you and Joshua

Bc the Church Kid and the Rebel? so cliche

But you never really talked to him anyways

Bc you’re just so different and basically the opposite of each other that you never found a common ground

It’s like mixing oil and water and you both fill the same space without truly mingling

You never minded it except it’s always a pain whenever people compare you to each other

“Why can’t you be more like Joshua?”

“How can Joshua sit next to someone like her”

You have nothing against the guy but it’s just a pain that you’re stuck with the guy everybody puts on a high pedestal

So you work at the local ice cream joint that your parents own

Not a lot of people know of it and it’s pretty low-key

Which also means not a lot of people from school knows of it

And while you despise going to school, you absolutely enjoy working there

Because there in the ice cream shop, nobody sees you as the Y/N that gets into fights or the Y/N the troublemaker

Here, you’re the Y/N that gives out ice cream to little kids and when they smile at you you beam back

Here, you help elders pull out their seats so they can enjoy a chocolate sundae as they talk to their spouses

Here, you’re just Y/N

No prejudice, no ugly sneers, just Y/N who serves ice cream

One day Joshua was walking around town when he spot your ice cream shop

So he decided to treat himself to some

And imagine his surprise when he found you giggling to a five-year old as you hand her her ice cream come

Your eyes meet and you went OH NO

Bc what is he doing here? You don’t need to be constantly reminded of the perfect Joshua Hong lol

Your smile was replaced with a frown and it’s a shame bc Joshua thought you look so sweet smiling

“Not a word, Hong.”

He pretended as if he didn’t see that last scene but he can’t help but hide a small smile bc he just realized you’re kinda cute

He didn’t say anything and ordered

He was paying and without looking up to see your face, said “You should smile more. It looks good on you”

And then he walked off with his strawberry ice cream like a f***ing boss

You never expected that from someone like Joshua so you can’t help but get flustered

Really flustered

Bc did he just flirt with you????? Holy crud

The next day you couldn't even spare a glance at the guy

Joshua acted as if nothing happened, like you guys didn’t totally meet at the ice cream shop but they way he looks at you?? He looks like he’s teasing you

‘The scary giant is actually’ soft his eyes seemed to say

To your dismay, since that day, Joshua’s face frequent the shop more than you would like

Ofc your parents were overjoyed bc they got a loyal customer but dang it’s really distracting to have him hover around

You couldn’t help but start to notice him

He usually would sit by the windows, sometimes reading a book or working on his laptop

You can’t help but memorize his usual order one scoop of strawberry ice cream with rainbow sprinkles in a cup

And little by little you couldn't help but warm up to him

And you’re like ‘Oh no do I have a crush???? on Joshua Hong????’

It gets better

There was one time Joshua notice you struggling during a test and he couldn't help but feel a little bad

So he wrote the answer on a little slip of paper and discreetly passed it to you

You looked at him incredulously and was like why but by then he had his back to you

He totally did it bc he likes you

And hey it’s not like you’re a punk without a sense of gratitude

So after school, you treat him to free ice cream

You were in the middle of eating your ice cream when he drew closer and

“Oh, you got ice cream on your mouth.”

AND THEN HE FREAKING WIPED THE ICE CREAM OFF THE CORNER OF YOUR MOUTH WITH HIS FINGER ADDWEFLWLJF

(thank god he didn't lick it amirite) holy shi* Nat keep it PG

You made eye contact and dear God if Joshua isn’t more beautiful up close

You noticed the moles that sprinkled his face but didn’t quite catch them as Joshua pulled back

The worst part of it was he had the audacity to smile innocently at you, acting as if everything is completely normal the freaking snitch

Y’all know his church oppa feel is just a facade he’s worse than Jeonghan tbh

And again he just looked away casually, which again made you feel flustered bc WHAT THE H***

It’s just that Joshua enjoys ruffling your feathers, getting to know the you that you don’t show to other people

He especially enjoys surprising you and taking you by surprise bc he could tell you never expect and aren’t used to others to be so vulgar towards you

The first day he saw you smile and he found himself wanting to see more of them

And fine, he’ll admit to himself that he might have a crush on you fffff

You started to notice how Joshua was warmer and kinder to you than before

I mean, he wasn’t rude before but you don’t have the best relationship either

But holy crud if the guy isn’t setting you up for a heart attack one of these days

Although his antics does intrigue you bc??? you’ve never had anybody treat you like that?? you’re just not used having your heart ready to beat right out of your chest

One day at school, you saw a senior bullying a freshman and although you may be a rebel, you are definitely not a bully

So you called out on the guy and told him to stop

He went up to you and started to get aggressive and called you names

You held your ground and when he saw you didn’t flinch, he slapped you

The next thing you know, the guy was off you and was on the ground with a bloody nose

The hallway went dead quite as your gaze falls on Joshua

Joshua whose breathing hard with his hand formed into a fist

To say you were shocked was an understatement because nobody would have thought Joshua would go that far

Did Joshua just punched a kid??? Really???

Is the world ending?????

So now you’re both stuck in detention together

And you're laughing inside bc Joshua looked like a sore thumb in the room full of troublemakers

“Are you ok?” he finally asked you

“Why did you punch that guy??”

“Look. Just because people think you’re a troublemaker doesn’t make them right.”

You raised an eyebrow at that

“Ok fine, not entirely true lol”

"Why are you so nice to me?"

Joshua was silent and then you felt his warm hand wrapped around yours under the table

“Because you’re more than that. They don’t know but I know. And you should, too. Because you’re more than what the label you as. Yeah, you might've made your fair share of mistakes but..I know deep inside, you're a good person. Don’t listen to them. Listen to me. I’m here for you.”

And he said it with so much conviction, so much sincerity that you looked at him, and I mean, finally looked at him and you realized

You think you might be falling hard for him.

You realized his warm hand is still clasped around yours, his thumb moving comforting patterns onto your skin and you felt the heat in your cheeks bc Joshua is holding my hand asdfhlkl

You looked at him and see his ears turning red and it’s so endearing

And then you smiled and Joshua felt like he’s going to bursts anytime now because he’s the reason behind that smile

And you didn’t do anything but hold hands under the table with Joshua throughout your time in detention

But you you don’t mind bc to you, this is enough

And this might be the first time you say this but detention isn’t so bad with him around

Because you know he’ll always be right there for you

A/N: I’m sorry if this was a flop compared to the other one.. Joshua ended up a bit OOC towards the end imo.. I tried to brainstorm but not much came up :( I might rewrite this if I have better ideas one day, though, so Anon, I’m sorry if I might've dissapointed you!

#requested #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fics #joshua scenarios #seventeen imagines #joshua #seventeen #joshua imagines #IM SORRY IF THIS IS DISSAPOINTING #TRASHHH

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