#if this kind of interaction happened things would start going Really Bad Really Fast with Horrors Tim | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tteokdoroki · 10 months ago

Text

THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel? TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back.

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work.

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him.

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much.

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think.

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together.

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed.

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window.

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick.

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace.

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious.

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami.

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time.

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you.

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute.

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk.

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you.

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?”

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol.

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.” the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.”

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him.

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.”

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.”

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper.

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?”

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!”

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

“then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.”

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?”

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.”

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…”

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin.

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles.

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe.

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo, kids,” he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy.

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss.

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss.

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami.

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,”

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event.

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office.

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia.

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper.

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time.

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you — happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents.

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home.

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to.

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift.

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you.

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him?

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.”

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.”

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.”

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.”

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle.

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly — his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions.

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays.

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all.

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.”

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice.

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?”

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?”

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.”

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.”

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?”

“pardon?”

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up.

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.”

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?”

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady.

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart.

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.”

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.”

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve.

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple.

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together.

2K notes · View notes

oh-no-its-bird · 5 months ago

Note

recently, i've started to see things where tobirama is reincarnated as sakura or is sakura's "inner", which is really interesting. could i get your take on this?

Unfortunatley I don't actually know much ab Sakura's inner! I learned naruto lore via fanfiction (never actually touched any canon media, oops) and have only actually read like 3 Sakura centric ones, I straight up didn't even know Sakura had a multiple personality(?) thing going for her till a few months ago (and boy wasn't that a surprise)

I think Tobirama being reincarnated as her could be p fun!! But also I think I'd be more interested in telling a story where he just straight up reincarnated as someone not existing in canon, if only bc then he could also interact WITH Sakura instead of just being her

I find that a lot of stories that try to give Sakura agency just kind of toss her entire character out the window and start from scratch, which is fun and valid! But it's more fun for me to make direct, uncomfortable eyecontact w canon her and find increasingly stupid or chaotic ways to fast track that whole "character development" thing or at least find ways to explain why she's Like That(tm)

So yeah I don't have toooo much interest in Tobirama reincarnating as specifically Sakura or her inner, but I could be into a story where he just reincarnates in proximity to her and then see how they bounce off of eachother. Maybe as a sibling? That could be cool

If he's born a girl we can zap em with the trans beam on top of the body dismorphia of suddenly being a whole child, that could be interesting. The blatant sexism of naruto canon could also make for an interesting plotline if we want to actually get into that

I kind of like the idea of him not actually remembering his previous life, at least not in full. Maybe he has weird dreams sometimes, maybe he looks at photos of the Nidaime and gets weird feelings of dejavu.

I suddenly have a very specific mental image of him getting a scar on his cheek, where one of his tattoos used to be, and just staring in a mirror afterwards at this super weird feeling of dejavu mixed w a sensation of it not being right mixed w just general body dismorphia and aw fuck why does he feel like he's both a little more right and further from himself than he's ever been?

Anyways would he be born younger or older than Sakura? Older brother him is just super overprotective, often suffering from nightmares of sensing as Sakura and some unnamed "other sibling" of his dies. It could also mean he can interact with Itachi actually, maybe they can be emotionally stunted baby genius friends or smthn

But younger sibling him could make for a surprisingly compelling parallel with Sakura and Hashirama! Especially w how Sakura later goes on to train with Tsunade n stuff

Part of me wants to say he's still names Tobirama for simplicitys sake, he can just be named after the Nidaime or smthn. But also that feels a bit cheap even if it is easier, so at least for now we'll name him Tora

Him and cat Tora can square off for name rights idk

Tora speaking oddly formally for a civilian, and having the kind of respect for your elders that come from being a second son in an elder run clan in ancient Japan. He has an awful time trying to form emotional attachments with people, including but especially his parents, who for some reason never really felt like his

But also him having a super easy time being attached to his new little sister Sakura, who he refuses to see anything bad happen to ever

So Tora and Sakura's parents being like suuper traditional, which is why Sakura is Like That when it comes to boys (she's constantly being told she needs to find a man to take care of her) Tora acts as a good figure and role model in her life, so while she's still interested in romance like canon she isn't AS boy crazy and can do a bit of thinking for herself.

And then we can get some fun conflict between Tora and his parents, who unfortunatley don't get the whole trans thing and constantly insist he needs to either drop the shinobi thing and find a husband, or if he does keep going at the shinobi thing, use it to find a husband there then drop it

Yeah he's not doing either of those things.

(they find out he's friends w the Uchiha clan heir and immediatley get weird about it, all glowing with pride that he's "attracting such good potential husbands" n stuff (Tora is PISSED))

Anyways Tora being just alarmingly good at literally any jutsu Tobirama invented. Like, ALARMINGLY good. He has that first life muscle memory, which unfortunatley is NOT a valid alibi and he's about to get his ass beat for seeming to have reverse engineered secret jutsus he shouldn't be able to know.

It isn't HIS fault that just glancing at the flying thunder god technique that one time was apparently enough for him to instinctively understand how to use it!!! Maybe this "Tobirama" guy should have just been better at making his jutsu harder to understand, this is clearly not his fault

He manages to help avoid the Uchiha massacre by being friends with Itachi, the two of them both graduating early and at the same ages, joining the same team and then ANBU together and so on.

Tora being really strong and graduating early and all that only further motivating Sakura to be a super strong shinobi, just like her big brother! Maybe she and Sasuke can even bond or have met earlier through Itachi and Tora's friendship.

Sakura and Sasuke childhood friends agreeing to try and graduate early together just like their older siblings. Not really into sasusaku but Ill say Sakura can keep her crush on him but be actually normal about it via exposure plus maybe some boy advice from Tora (he's a shinobi, so if you really want to charm him, you'll have to beat him first)

She can maybe lose it with time (and exposure to him being a dumb cringe fail kid w his brother still around) and maybe go kiss Ino idk

Anyways, Tora and Itachi friendship. Shisui is also there!! (Love that guy)

They're dynamic is just emotionally suppressed bastard (thinks hes better than you) + emotionally suppressed bastard (knows hes better than you) + upbeat guy smiling at you as he holds a gun to your head

Shisui and Tora take turns driving the car as Itachi sits in the back seat peacefully eating some applesauce (he's just happy to be here)

They're gonna blow up the hokage tower for the good of the people 👍

They're on an ANBU team w Kakashi and Tenzo and forget about going grey, they're gonna make Kakashi's hair straight up fall out from the stress

Maybe Tora can move out of his parents house the first chance he gets, and then whatever place he manages to find can be a little safe place for Itachi. Itachi accidentally ends up almost moving in w him as things at home get worse and worse w the coup. He just stays over more and more and doesn't want to return home

Circling back to the "Tora instinctivley knows how to navigate Tobirama's seals/techniques" the most terrifying point of the story is when he sees Naruto's jinchuriki seal and realizes he knows how to mess with it

Uh oh!! Shouldn't have that information!!

Anyways take some doodles

(Danzo is "that jackass who won't let me look at the nidaime's old research" and Tora has a GRUDGE.)

#birds fic talk #naruto #birds fanart #senju tobirama #tobirama senju #sakura haruno #haruno sakura #tobirama #sakura #uchiha itachi #itachi uchiha #birds asks #shisui uchiha #uchiha shisui #shisui #itachi

144 notes · View notes

vaya-writes · 4 months ago

Text

Not Quite A Life Debt - 3

A handful of f reader insert scenes with m demonic love interests. Fluff, hurt/comfort, and smutty shenanigans that lean kind of poly.

You (kind of unnecessarily) tried to save Ludwig’s life. Out of pity, he lets you crash at his place for a few weeks after. It probably wouldn’t be so bad, but he doesn’t live alone. Reader stays with the triplets until she gets back on her feet. Smut, family shenanigans, and possibly even romance ensues.

Mervin is kind of crabby after his heat he gets sick. You begin searching for employment. And Ludwig helps you out on a high pain day. 5900 words.

Content warnings for this chapter include: mild isolation, some blame from the resident pride demon, pain and sickness during menstruation, the briefest and undescribed animal death (Obie eats a pigeon), and smut.

Smut warnings include: consensual fingering and groping whilst menstrating, brief joking/discussion of menstural oral (does not actually occur), soft stuff that turns a little rough, unintentional and unplanned breath play (hand over mouth), nonconsensual biting (from both parties), dry humping, semi-public sexual stuff, lack of aftercare because of an interruption.

Divider by firefly-graphics. Characters by @eldritch-spouse.

Masterlist - A03 - Previous

You get used to living in Perdition.

Well, it would be more accurate to say you get used to living with Ludwig and his brothers. You’re not allowed to leave the house by yourself; the triplets make no secret of the fact that they live in a bad neighbourhood – a bad ring, as Ludwig puts it.

It’s frustrating, but you don’t doubt them. It only takes a few brief tours around the area for you to understand. You attract stares everywhere you go. Leers, really. And watching what demons do to each other (both strangers on the street, and the brothers among themselves), you hate to imagine what they might do to a human.

It’s as if everyone here speaks several additional languages that humans just aren’t fluent with (literal infernal aside). Greed. Hunger. Violence. The first time you watch Mervin and Ludwig descend into a proper argument, you’re horrified. Nothing you’d seen at home – and you were no stranger to domestic scraps – could prepare you for it. Teeth and claws and broken furniture. Mervin draws a gods-damned weapon. You’d seen people fight before. But not like this. You’d dismissed yourself and locked yourself in the spare room the first time it had happened.

Obie had dragged the two upstairs by the horns and made them apologise for scaring you.

It’s not the only thing you notice. You don’t put your finger on it for a while. It takes several outings with the triplets, several more incidents and scraps before you start to suspect another key difference between demons and humans.

It has something to do with their priorities. Their sense of self. Their interactions within a community. Humans aren’t selfless, by any means. But bonds form fast between them. Connections are quickly made, common goals are easily worked towards, and interconnectedness is practically built into our genes. The human instinct for empathy, to help those around us, to lean on each other for support – it's as if demons lack it.

It truly is survival of the fittest for them. You suspect that if a demon can’t survive alone, they won’t survive at all. You see it in the way they think of themselves first. How Obie might reach for your food, before hesitating. Or Mervin opens his mouth to speak, before thinking better. That consideration, cohesion are learned traits. Conscious choices to practice, and not instinct.

It scares you more in strangers. That the curiosity is not the first thing demons look at you with, but hunger. You’d feel like prey if you didn’t watch them do it to each other too. Like every person is a mark; looked at with the question ‘what can I gain from using you’ before asking something more basic, like ‘who are you’.

Long story short, you don’t mind keeping to the house.

The first time you go anywhere without them, it’s to Sloth, to stay with Katia. The circumstances are odd. Mervin had just come back from one of his extended trips. He’d strode through the door, seen you in the lounge and frozen for a moment, before stamping straight to his bedroom, and shutting the door with a slam. Ludwig had come home early that day and explained that Mervin was sick and needed the house to himself for a week.

It didn’t make sense to you. But what did you know? Mervin was almost never around. You didn’t know what he was like when he was sick. Still, the hesitation when Ludwig had explained the situation, the look he shared with his mother when he dropped you off at her place – it led you to suspect that a key piece of information was being kept from you.

It fills you with paranoia. But Katia is lovely. Spending time with her helps ease the anxiety in your chest. Most of her hours are spent at work or sleeping, but the moments of lucidity she spends with you are enjoyable. She shows you how to cook a few new meals. Lets you go through her photo albums and look at baby pictures of her sons. On the weekend she even takes you clothes shopping, and for the first time in almost a month you feel at ease, wearing clothes that you’ve chosen for yourself.

When Katia returns you back to the common ring, Mervin is still home. He’s currently your least favourite triplet, but you make an effort to smile. “Feeling better?”

He scowls, and you’re surprised at the amount of vitriol in his expression. “As if that’s your business.”

You try not to visibly deflate.

Katia tsks and frowns at her son. She pats you on the back. “He’s just embarrassed, sweetie. Don’t you pay him any mind.”

She gives you a peck on the cheek before leaving, and sound of the door closing sends a wave of dread through you. You really don’t want to be alone with Mervin.

But when you turn his expression has softened. If only marginally. He tilts his head. “She likes you.”

You’re not sure what to say. You shrug as you take your shoes off. “We had fun.”

You feel his stare on you, even as you cross the room. You head towards the kitchen, hoping for something to eat.

“She bought you clothes.”

His tone is almost accusatory. You can’t help but flush, shame starting to weigh on you. “She’s very kind.”

To your dismay, he follows you to the kitchen. He crosses his arms and watches when you pull out the materials for a sandwich. Uncomfortable, you ask, “Do you want one?”

He scoffs. “How long are you going to keep eating our food? Wearing our clothes?”

You don’t let it show, but his words strike deep. You’re more than aware of the position you’re in. You cast your eyes towards the task at hand. Prepping food. “I don’t like it either. But it’s kind of hard to find a job when I’m forbidden from leaving the house.”

He crosses his arms. “Excuses.”

“Did you want to escort me to Earth every morning?”

“Now you’re asking us for transport too?”

You’ve had enough. It’s either cry or snap. And you are not going to cry in front of Mervin. Instead you slam your knife to the counter.

“I didn’t ask for this. I did not ask to be shunted from place to place my whole damn life. I’m sorry if that inconveniences you,” your tone is in no way apologetic.

He’s silent as you leave.

Immediately upon returning to your room, you regret the encounter. The last thing you need to be doing is antagonising your benefactors. But still. Ludwig was the one who invited you here, and if Mervin has a problem, he should be taking it up with his brother.

You finally get a new job.

It’s not without its difficulties – transit mainly. One of the triplets has to take you through a series of rifts. One to Earth. One to continent you hail from. Another to a large town. Ludwigs talks about establishing a proper route, about using the most stable rifts, and being prepared for a disruption to travel if any of them close. There’s a lot of jargon you don’t really understand. But he gets you back to Earth. Back to ‘gainful employment’.

Mervin straight up refuses to be your escort. He’s not around enough anyway. Ludwig handles it most days, but Obie is always available to fill in when Ludwig is busy elsewhere. Neither seem to mind your spotty hours. You tell the triplets when you start and finish, and they’re usually able to have you delivered on time.

Sometimes you take an afternoon for yourself. Spending time in a human city is good for you. You visit a library. Buy yourself necessities. Even do some grocery shopping. Nobody seems to fault you for it, and Mervin certainly complains less when you start bringing home your own food.

And so you fall into the new routine. Working four to six days a week. Ludwig or sometimes Obie walking you there, chatting about your day or your plans. Finally starting to feel at ease in their home, now that you’re less of an imposition.

You’re a shift worker, usually working mornings at a cafe. Your customer service is without fault and you know how to use a coffee machine. It was enough to get you the job. That and your eclectic resume.

There’re still moments that throw you off. Behaviours from the triplets that take you by surprise, or the occasional week when you’re banished to Katia as one of them comes down sick with something. The three of them are rarely united about anything, but they all seem intent on keeping you in the dark regarding that odd ritual.

One morning you wake up and are immediately torn over whether or not you should go to work. It’s a little late to call in. And Obie had already promised to take you. But your underwear are saturated with blood and your gut is torn up in cramps. Your period isn’t usually this bad, but you can already tell that today is going to be a hard one.

You decide to suck it up. It’s just a bit of cramping. Of pain in your joints. Sure, it’s nauseating, and it takes a few minutes before you can stand and walk without limping. But you’ve done this before, and you can do it again. You didn’t survive this long by flaking out of work when things got tough.

You almost miss the odd look Obie gives you as you head downstairs. Perhaps you mistake it for sympathy. You wear a grimace and make no effort to hide your discomfort. Still, Obie doesn’t say much on your way to work. He seems distracted, focusing his attention on the details around him, often picking up items to chew on.

You try not to gape at the number of small things that disappear as you pass. A handful of bark flakes from a pot plant. A table number at an outdoor cafe. A pile of junk wrappers from his pockets. (Garbage from the pavement. A handful of leaves and twigs and flowers from any trees you pass. An actual bird that doesn’t have the fortune to flee in time.) He’s not hidden his gluttonous habits from you, from what you can tell, but today he consumes far more than usual. You wonder if he’s unwell.

You put it out of mind when you get to work, saying your goodbyes and clocking in for the day.

You don’t last long. It’s probably only an hour or two before you’re curled up on the couch in the break room, banished there after the manager spotted you limping. She tells you to go home. You’re torn between humiliation and gratitude. You send a message off to Obie.

Unwell. Can you bring me home early?

He sends you a thumbs up and you’re left to wait.

His behaviour on the way home is almost distraction enough from your pain. There’s pretty much always something in his mouth; this time he’d brought food from home with him. You watch curiously as he pulls out several sticks of gum when his food is gone. He only chews for a moment before he’s swallowed them too. It’d almost be funny if he didn’t seem so distracted. Ravenous to a degree which you’ve never seen.

“Are you alright?” You ask at one point.

He finally glances your way. Shrugs. “Smelt something tasty.”

The explanation makes sense, if a little understated. You give him a sympathetic nod.

Obie drops you off at the door before mumbling his excuses and leaving.

You make a beeline for the lounge, planning to lay down and watch some tv. You grimace as you round the corner – Ludwig is already sprawled across the couch.

“Is there room for me?”

“Thought you had work?” He doesn’t quite straighten, but he does change his angle, leaving enough space for you to squeeze in beside him.

Carefully, you do. “I was sent home sick.”

Ludwig tenses and turns your way. “You smell like blood.”

You grimace.

You know that demons have superhuman senses, and that such things are normal to them. But you still can’t help but feel self-conscious around them. Every time your heart speeds up, or your breath hitches, you have to wonder if anyone notices. If anyone overanalyses it. If they can tell when you forget to wear deodorant or can smell your lunch on your breath.

You’d go crazy if you let yourself worry about it too much. After moving in with the triplets you decided to believe that they might notice these things, but they likely wouldn’t care. The same way you’d react if you saw a customer with a large zit, or a coworker having a bad hair day. You choose not to make a big deal about the things people can’t change.

But if Ludwig is going to bring up the little details, if he’s going to speak without tact, why should you?

“Probably because I’m bleeding from my vagina.”

Ludwig winces. “Oh. Oh.” He snorts. "Guess that explains his behaviour.”

“I don’t follow.”

Ludwig gestures to the door. “Obie. Your blood. The smell.” He shrugs. “Delish.”

Your nose crinkles. “Gross.”

He grins. “I thought humans loved the blood drinking gimmick. Ya’ll go mad for vampires.”

“Pop culture aside, I doubt many of us want to consider period blood in that context.”

“Why? Blood is blood.”

Your lip curls. “It’s different. Different composition. Different texture... Full of waste products... I really don’t want to think about it.”

“I’ve seen that demon eat literal garbage. I don’t think he’s worried about your waste products.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

He doesn’t get a chance to tease you further, straightening when another series of cramps has you tucking your knees to your chest, gripping your abdomen to ease the pain.

“You alright?”

Your reply is hoarse. “Just peachy.”

He touches his hand to your back. “What usually helps?”

“Heat pack. Pain killers.”

“I can have Ob bring some home. What else?”

You clutch a cushion to your chest and rest your head against the couch end. “It’s fine. It’s just pain. I don’t want-” you stop. Restart. “You don’t need to do anything else.”

Your eyes spring open when Ludwig grabs a fistful of your hair. Starts tugging on it. Gentle tugs, reminiscent of schoolyard teasing. Until a sudden yank that leaves your scalp stinging.

“Ow!” Impulse has you slapping his hand away. “The fuck is your problem?”

His voice doesn’t hold a drop of concern: fastidiously sweet. “Sorry, did I hurt you?” The tone drops and becomes resolute. “You should let me make it up to you. Tell me how to make you feel better.”

You scoff at the ploy. “There’s nothing to do. Unless you want to spend the next few days waiting on me.”

He pinches your cheek. “What, you want some coddling?”

You swat him away again. “Your words, not mine.”

“Hmm.” He rearranges himself. Before you have a chance to protest, you’re pulled between his legs, your back to his chest in an awkward embrace. “How’s this?”

Your eyes are wide open now, and you’re stiff with surprise. Ludwig hadn’t struck you as the cuddling type.

You’re still formulating a reply when he wraps an arm around your midsection, his forearm coming to rest against where your cramps are strongest. You note the heat, normally oppressive, seeping through the back of your shirt to relax your muscles.

“That’s... that’s actually great. Fuck.”

His chest rumbles with a laugh.

You frozen, still unsure how to respond to the proximity. You haven’t been hugged in... a long time.

He pinches you again. “So what’s this shit about you imposing?”

“I didn’t say-”

“You implied.” He adopts a higher pitch, in mockery of your voice, “’You don’t need to do anything, being here is enough because I’m so sad and pitiful, wah.’”

You mumble out a curse. “I don’t sound like that.”

“You going to answer the question?”

Your nose crinkles and you cross your arms. This isn’t a conversation you want to have. “I don’t like relying on other people.”

“Obviously. Why?”

You shrug. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

There’s a silence before Ludwig sighs. His fingers tangle in your hair again, this time to scratch at your scalp. It feels nice.

“Are you always like this, or did Mervin say something?”

You scowl, not pleased to have been read so easily. Your silence is answer enough.

“I’ve lived with those two for decades. Believe me when I tell you that you’re a perfectly pleasant housemate in comparison. You’re tidier, quieter, more polite-”

You shrug off his words. He’s not wrong. But years of living precariously has instilled into you a deep wariness of getting comfortable.

“-and I told you that Mervin would talk shit.” He pauses, just enough for smugness to creep into his tone. “He likes you, you know.”

You huff. “Doubtful.”

“Yeah, he’d never tell it to your face, but I know my brother. And he’s said some pretty interesting things when you’re not around.”

You almost turn to check his expression. Your stillness has probably given away your interest.

“I don’t believe you.”

Ludwig shrugs. “Believe me or don’t. But I know he likes you.”

You chew on your lip, considering your recent interactions with the demon. If he likes you, he isn't very good at showing it.

“Not as much as Obie though.”

You get the distinct impression that you’re being teased. It’s hard to be mad with Ludwig kneading your shoulders, but still, you feel ill at ease. “You’re just making fun of them.”

“I’m serious. Why else would he be so jittery today?”

“You said that I smelt tasty.”

“Do you think everyone smells good to him?”

You scrunch your eyes closed. Lean your head back to rest against his shoulder. He’s starting to give you a headache. “How would I know?”

“I guess you wouldn’t. Good thing I'm here to keep you informed.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s such a Mervin thing to say.”

He crinkles his nose. Flicks you on the forehead.

And despite yourself, you start to relax. It’s incremental. You’re still uncomfortable. You’re in pain and leaning against an absolute furnace of a demon. But your muscles loosen, and your breathing evens.

You could probably sleep off the worst of your cramps if Ludwig stopped fussing. His ministrations aren’t particularly disruptive, but they do hold your attention. He squeezes your shoulders. Presses the flat of his palm above your mons, where the pain is worst. Gently scratches at your scalp and massages the back of your neck.

You haven’t been just touched in a long time, and there’s a walled off piece of you that stirs to life at each point of contact.

When he wraps his hand around your throat, the heat and firmness of his grip nearly have you melting. It’s enough to have you forgetting yourself, and you let out a hum of satisfaction.

“You know, I’ve heard orgasms relieve pain.”

Reality slams back into you, leaving you hyperaware of how you’re draped across Ludwig’s lap. The work he’d put into relaxing you is completely undone as you thrum with tension. Your mouth shuts tight with embarrassment.

Your jaw is stiff when you reply. “Are you coming on to me?”

He huffs a laugh. “Maybe. I guess.”

You struggle to process. “Weren’t you just telling me that Obie liked me?”

“Mm. You do have a knack for charming my family.”

That doesn’t answer your implication. “Wouldn’t he be upset?”

Ludwig shrugs. “First come, first served. And if he really has a problem, I don’t mind sharing.”

You almost sit up, thoroughly scandalised and shocked.

Almost.

Ludwig is silent. Patient. Awaiting a response. Or perhaps just content to watch you reel.

You take a breath. Try to consider his suggestion.

It has its appeal. You haven’t gotten off in a while. Long enough that just sitting in Ludwig’s lap is enough to set your heart racing. But thinking about any form of intimacy ties your stomach up in knots that have nothing to do with your period.

“I don’t want to fuck this up.” You’re thinking of your position here. Your welcome, and the things that could change if you were to start a casual fling.

His lips brush your ear, raising goosebumps on the back of your neck. “No strings attached. I’m just offering to help out a friend. Relieve some pain.”

“Get your dick wet?”

His hand creeps upwards, dipping under the hem of your shirt. It's hard to concentrate on anything else. “Not even.”

You bite your lip, frozen with consideration. Anticipation.

You like Ludwig well enough. He’s handsome, even. Rough around the edges, sure, but disarming with his occasional teasing and laid-back behaviour.

“No strings attached?”

“None.”

“No further expectations?”

He lets out a huff. “You can say no.”

You shake your head. You’re not opposed. Just wary. Scared, even.

But if he’s being genuine- if you have nothing to lose from accepting his help-

Your knees fall apart and you relax further into Ludwig’s grasp.

Then why not?

“Okay.”

Given permission, his hand disappears beneath your shirt. Traces the contours of your stomach. It almost tickles, how gentle he’s being. Something you hadn’t expected. With his free hand he squeezes your thigh. What limited area he can reach in this position is subject to deep, massaging touches.

It helps to relax you, until your head is lolling back and your muscles are going slack again. And at first it seems like he’s content to just explore. Mapping out your abdominals. Your ribs. The underside of your breasts.

He thumbs at the bra and tsks.

“That can’t be too comfortable.”

You hum your agreement.

“Are you attached to this bra?”

You shrug and shake your head. It’s just a plain white bra, one of multiple you own.

“Good.”

You’re pulled out of your lull by the sound of tearing cloth. Air touches your breasts, and you realise what he’s done.

“You shit-”

He grips you by the jaw, movements taking on a hint of force. Impatience or desire, you’re not sure. But your words are cut off when he crushes his lips to yours, tongue invading your mouth.

The tips of his claws dig into your flesh where he grips your thigh. The sudden intensity has you reeling. Fuzziness closes in on your thoughts, enough to keep you pliant. There’s a part of you that’s indignant about the bra. The rough treatment. But mostly, you just want to see what he does next.

“Sorry,” he mumbles against your lips. “Wanted to see you. Feel you.” He emphasises with a squeeze of your breast.

He goes back to kneading your thighs and you can’t help but squirm. You need your pants off. Now. You need to feel him against your skin.

Impatient, you unzip them. Manage to shimmy them down to your ankles before giving up. But Ludwig gets the idea.

Teasing, he runs a single digit up the inside of your thigh. The point of his nail prickles against your skin, hard enough to hurt.

You can’t stop your hips from twitching. The shuddering intake of air. Your murmured little, “Fuck.”

The sound must do things for Ludwig, because he stills. Then takes hold of your throat, nuzzling your neck and grinding against your back. You become aware of his erection.

“You sound good,” he says against your ear.

He palms your core and huffs a laugh when you shudder. “Feel good too.”

You’re wet. When had that happened? Slick to the point where it’s too easy for him to stroke you through the cotton. It’s impossible to miss when he runs a claw directly over your clit.

You buck, biting back a little groan. It’s getting harder to think. To control yourself.

Ludwig chuckles at your response. “Someone’s keen.”

You want to retort, but only manage a whine in response. He’s not wrong. You can’t remember the last time somebody touched you like this.

Almost as if to punish you, his hand leaves your underwear. You do whimper this time, when he takes hold of your throat. The grip is solid, but not choking. Enough to scare you. Thrill you. But still light enough to keep you at ease. Even if you wish he’d go back to stroking your clit.

He presses his lips to yours again. Starts to knead and squeeze at your breasts.

You protests slip away as he fondles you. The pain too- you're too preoccupied by the cold air on your chest. The scrape of claws against your skin. At the hot breath on your face, the kiss with entirely too much teeth, and the tongue that keeps stuffing into your mouth.

He’s more intense than you’d expected; the hand around your throat drifting up to grip your jaw. He ignores your attempt to break away for air. Steers you back towards him, insatiable and eager. The heat of his skin turning the kiss sweltering. Sweaty. Almost too warm. Too crowded.

But damn if you aren’t into it.

Finally you grab him by a horn and yank his face away, desperate for air, for an inch of space.

It doesn’t deter Ludwig. He just reaches back towards your underwear, pressing kisses against your neck instead. Sucking hard against the tender flesh of your shoulder. Relishing the gasps he draws from you. Rubbing between your legs again.

You’re deeply embarrassed by the way your underwear are starting to stick to you. It has you torn, the desire to be touched combatting your reluctance to be vulnerable. An instinctual compromise has you covering your face.

“None of that,” Ludwig intercepts you by the wrist, pinning your arm to the couch. “I want to hear you.”

You’ve no choice but to let your head slump back. It’s an effort not to clench your jaw, to let your body relax. To allow your composure to fall, and a string of soft gasps to escape you.

It’s a blessing when he pulls your underwear aside. The cold air shocks you out of your self consciousness. Pulls you out of your own head a little more.

There’s a moment of tension before he touches you, your knees spread as far as you can manage, trying not to cant your hips with how desperate you are for friction.

He doesn’t touch your clit straight away. Your control breaks pretty easily, and you find your hips leaving the couch, seeking out his touch.

He huffs a laugh against your ear, stilling his hand and waiting for you to settle.

With the softest little huff you do, nearly vibrating out of your skin with the effort it takes to keep still as he places his hand on your mons. Strokes across your vulva. Spreading you open and exposing your wetness to the air.

“If I’d known we’d be doing this, I’d have filed down my claws."

You become hyperaware of them. Tense. With anxiety, with anticipation. Part of you is afraid of pain. Of a possible misstep. But mostly you just want to be touched.

Ludwig flexes his hand. Rubs you with the pads of his fingers quite harmlessly. His free arm wraps around your chest and holds you in place when he finally touches your clit.

You arch at the touch, inhaling shakily.

It’s nothing fancy. It’s not like you haven’t touched yourself the same way before.

But the breath on your neck, the change of scenery, the erection pressing into your back-

“Shit,” you murmur.

Then you’re coming against his fingers, far too quickly.

Ludwig clamps a hand over your mouth. Your moans come out muffled; still entirely lewd. You grip his forearm, nails digging into his skin as you arch against him.

His chest rumbles at the contact and he grips you tighter, grinding against your ass. In a moment that both startles you and extends the aftershocks of your orgasm, you feel teeth clamp down on your shoulder. Hard, jagged, just shy of breaking the skin.

Your moans turn into whines and you buck against him. He only grips you harder, hand skewing enough to cover your nose too. You’re not getting any air, and while part of you panics, another part of you melts. Light headedness kind of feels nice when your heart is pounding and pleasure is still rolling through your being.

Still, all things in moderation.

Soon you can hear your heart in your ears and your chest is aching for air. Your wriggling doesn’t dissuade Ludwig at all, but you desperately need to breathe. You could probably communicate this to him, could probably just tug his hand away from your face. But your limbs aren’t really back under your control yet, so instead you do the next best thing and bite him.

“Oh- f-fuck.”

His hand leaves your face as he grips you by the hips. Holding you in place as he grinds against you, lowly groaning against your shoulder.

He stills.

You both pant heavily in the following silence.

“Did you just...”

He relaxes back against the couch. “Oops.”

“Ludwig!”

Your embarrassment at how quickly you came is immediately washed away. You turn to stare your disbelief, but Ludwig isn’t even looking at you. His brow is raised, and he’s looking up towards the doorway-

The front door opens.

“Hey, sorry, I forgot my phone-”

Obie only takes two steps into the room before his head whips towards you and he freezes.

You’re still hazy, and for a moment nobody reacts. Then shame rushes in and you’re yanking your shirt down, clamping your knees shut. Your mouth opens, and you want to speak, to explain, but nothing comes out.

Ludwig wipes his hand on his pants and snorts. “I guess you caught me... red handed?”

Eyes wide, you turn to him, incredulous. How can he be joking right now?

A noise escapes the glutton. The sound of air- a hiss or perhaps a sharp inhale. You don’t have a chance to identify it further before his brows crease and his shoulders square. He reaches towards the wall, blindly groping for the first object in range. He rips a poster from its place. And stuffs it into his mouth.

Ludwig straightens. “Really? You’re going to be like that?”

Obie's jaw sets. He swipes one of the t-shirts hanging off the back of the couch – one of Ludwig’s. And swallows it whole too.

Ludwig sighs. “C’mon man, that was a collectible.”

Incensed, Obie continues, grabbing at knickknacks across the room and stuffing them into his mouth. You notice all of them belong to Ludwig.

You’re surprised that Ludwig doesn’t move from his spot. Doesn’t act to stop his brother, only grumbling at each disappearing item.

You wince at the crunch of ceramic as Obie chews on a mug. Otherwise you’re still frozen in place, not sure what to make of the scene.

“I told you he liked you,” Ludwig mutters.

“You did what?” Obie says around a mouthful of pottery, his voice shrill.

“What? It’s not like you were being subtle.”

Before you have a chance to blink Obie is striding across the room. Mouth still full of ceramic, he starts to cuss Ludwig out, reaching out to grab him by the shirt, heedless of your proximity.

Ludwig just keeps smirking.

You wriggle out of his lap, unnerved by the prospect of being caught between two warring demons. Still jelly legged, you yank up your pants and stand, not wanting to be anywhere near them if they’re going to have it out.

But you stagger.

Pain flares through your abdomen and a hiss escapes from between your teeth.

Obie and Ludwig fall silent, still. Before-

“I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?” and “Hey, we didn’t mean to scare ya.”

They both miss the mark, but share twin looks of remorse.

You shake your head. “Just period pain. Standing hurts.”

They reach for you at the same time.

“Did getting off help? Do you want more?”

“Have you had any meds? Or some food to settle your stomach?”

The fretting is short lived however, when Obie pauses and shoots Ludwig what you can only assume is his version of a glare.

“Seriously? That was your excuse?”

Ludwig shrugs. “She needed a little pampering.”

“Pampering. Is stuff like a foot rub. Or brushing her hair. Or carrying her bag. Not sticking your fingers inside of her!”

You bite your lip at the statement. You’d convinced yourself that a short fling with Ludwig wouldn’t be a big deal. But Obie might be right. You’d done it in the house they shared. In a space they shared. After having been told that the glutton had feelings for you.

It really was a dick move. You should have considered what might happen if you were caught. Taken things to a private room. Turned him down completely. Anything but what you’d done.

Obie and Ludwig don’t look like they’re going to come to blows. But you don’t want to stick around and listen to their bickering. It’d only embarrass you. Guilt you.

“I’m going to lay down,” you mutter, heading for the stairs.

The pair fall silent.

Obie follows you upstairs. You really hope he won’t stop you. You don’t know what to say.

“Hey.”

You do your best to wipe the discomfort off your face before turning to face him. “Hi.”

His cheeks are red, and he twiddles his thumbs, before stuffing his hands into his pockets. And pulling them out to fidget again.

“I- uh. There’s chocolate. In my room. If you want some.”

Standing there, pain creeping up your back, loose bits of your bra hanging limp under your shirt, and a mess of blood and slick in your underwear, you try not to grimace.

“That’s sweet of you Obie.” You’re tired. Tired of being perceived and fussed over. Of being embarrassed. Of feeling gross. But you get the feeling that if you blow Obie off right now, you might damage something irreparably between you. “Normally I’d love some, but-”

“I’m sorry.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“I wasn’t trying to shame either of you. I was just... jealous. Mad. That he made a move before I could. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

It takes you a few moments to decide your reply.

“I need a shower. And to change.”

His face falls and he steps back. Forces a little laugh. “Oh. Of course. I’ll just be-”

“I’ll come by after? If you want?”

He stills, as if surprised by your reply. The embarrassment leaves his features and he straightens, “Yeah, okay. I’ll just tidy up a bit. See you in a bit?”

You drudge up a smile and reply before turning back to your door. “See you in a bit.”

#vaya writes #Not Quite A Life Debt #monster romance #demon romance #monster fucking #demon fucking #I don't even remember how long this took #SEVEN MONTHS SINCE THE LAST UPDATE #and I'll have you know it's been written for a long time #it just took this long to constantly redraft and rewrite the smut #far out #anyway please say nice things if you want more #ily bye

60 notes · View notes

jo-harrington · 4 months ago

Text

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 11 - Jeff

Summary: Jeff has big plans for the future.

Word Count: 987

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Nervous!Jeff, Friendship, Banter

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Jeff was surrounded by optimists.

That glass-half-full mentality, the perpetual prospect of positivity, the constant confidence in the future.

You could say that he attracted them.

And he needed that sometimes, because he was decidedly not one.

He was worried, a little nervous, a planner more than a doer. His cousin Richie was much more impulsive and got him out of his shell, sometimes even by force, but even that was a little bit of a misconception.

Jeff wasn't nervous or shy--well, maybe nervous--he was just...thinking of the right things to say. Making sure that he didn't fumble his words or insult people or embarrass himself. Otherwise the world might just crumble around him.

It took becoming friends with Eddie Munson to help him loosen up a bit. Get used to failure, go with the flow, stop being so worried about making the wrong move because his friends were constantly making the wrong moves.

But it also helped Eddie and the others be a little more...structured. They did homework during their lunch periods and study halls more, actually had plans for band practice instead of just winging it.

Ronnie always said, from the moment Jeff joined them, that they needed him--that Eddie needed him--to bring them down to earth sometimes. Their harebrained schemes and dreams that were larger than life. It only got worse after the whole demo tape fiasco, and worse still once Ronnie and Doug graduated.

But it had always been a good feeling.

Being needed.

Wanted.

Being the one to look after everyone in some way.

Thats why it felt really weird and wrong to be the guy to let them all down.

Jeff stressed over it for weeks.

It felt great stepping out of the guidance office, a moment of surety and security, plans for the future locked in place.

Then he remembered that he'd need to tell everyone.

It haunted him during lunches and Hellfire, while they helped Dustin set up things for the science fair, during practices and gigs. All the way up to Spring Break.

"It'll be fine," his mom--an optimist--told him one night when she found him in the kitchen with what was essentially a script with all the ways he could break the news to his friends. "They won't be upset."

"Sure," he scoffed.

"You act like I've never met your friends before," she soothed. "Those boys would move heaven and earth for you."

And he knew they would...this was just different.

Then the unexpected happened.

On the last day of class before Spring Break, Mr. Bergstrom passed out slips in homeroom that all the seniors needed to fill out.

"For the graduation programs," he explained. "If you've decided which colleges you're moving onto...trade schools...or other..."

"We definitely fall into the other category," Eddie snickered from beside him. "On our way to fame and fortune."

Jeff laughed nervously and then stared down at the slip, horrified.

When the bell rang, he bolted out of the classroom so fast, he barely heard Eddie calling after him.

Come lunch, Eddie stopped him right outside of the cafeteria.

"I wanna know what all of that was first period," Eddie demanded, no malice in his tone. More worried than anything.

"I, uh," Jeff shrugged. "I just wasn't feeling great this morning. I think the milk went bad. My stomach kind of hurt."

"Uh huh," Eddie scoffed. "Likely story. You're an expiration date snob; remember when I almost ate that expired Twinkie and you yanked it out of my mouth."

"Who knows how long it was in your van for!" Jeff argued.

"Twinkies don't expire!" Eddie shouted back, earning looks from their classmates passing by. "It doesn't matter. I think you're hiding something and I wanna know what it is."

His heart practically stopped in his chest.

"I know I've been kind of a hardass lately," Eddie continued softly. "At practice and...with Hellfire..."

And he felt sweat start to trickle down his forehead.

The longer Eddie talk, the more he felt the dread overtake him, until he blurted out,

"I signed up for summer classes at Tri-County Community College!"

Eddie stared at him like he'd grown a second head.

"And a few in the fall," he went on. "Gareth won't graduate til next year and we won't get big gigs until then. I want to take some classes and maybe...learn some business stuff to help us? Give us the best shot. Or maybe have something to fall back on if it really doesn't work out."

It was so silent, aside from his heaving breaths, that you could hear a pin drop.

"Thats..." Eddie struggled for words and Jeff closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact. "That's great!"

Jeff's eyes shot open again and saw the brightness in his friends eyes, the big shining smile.

"That's huge, I'm proud of you man," Eddie patted him on the shoulder again, gently this time. "Damn I don't even know what to say. You better keep Tuesdays and Fridays free."

"You're not mad?" Jeff questioned.

"What?"

"Or sad..."

"Why the hell would I be mad? Or sad?"

"Because Ronnie went off to college too," Jeff explained.

"Ronnie went to NYU on a scholarship and I was proud of her too!" Eddie shook his head. "Got the hell out of dodge. Damn, if anything I was jealous."

Jeff listened as Eddie rambled on about futures and plans how Jeff was the brains of the operation.

"I just figured," he interrupted Eddie. "You might think I was leaving the dream behind. Our dream."

"Jeffy, if anything you're looking out for it. And even if you were second guessing the band...I'd wanna support you."

Eddie pulled him into a quick hug with another pat on the back.

"You're my best friend man."

And the only thought running through his head as he clapped Eddie's back with the same affection?

Maybe being an optimist wasn't so bad after all.

#corrodedcoffinfest #eddie stranger things #jeff stranger things #stranger things fic #corroded coffin fest #if it doesn't make sense I'm edging a migraine right now #bon appetit

45 notes · View notes

cuddlecow · 4 months ago

Note

Not sure how much of a headcanon this is, but Franco seems to be very jumpy, and kind of nervous while he hunts down the player. Whenever he hears a sound from the player he almost jumps as he turns around, sometimes instinctively firing at the direction of the sound. Not to mention he says things like "My dad send you?" or even just "what the fuck is that?". I personally think the tough act he's had to put on his whole life is out of fear, mostly of his dad. I also saw someone say Franco seems more aware of what is happening to him at Mt Sinyala with Murkoff, even saying a few things directed at the "doctors". I bet he's kind of scared being there, maybe he thinks his dad did it?? Murkoff is definitely getting into his head like with Coyle and Phyllis, also. I wonder how much he is really aware of. Sorry for the angst, I feel so bad for him. He needed love and help, not Murkoff.

Ooh, I can definitely see that! I remember he says the one line where he says his father killed his mother when he addresses the doctors! Also no need to apologize, some angst is always good! Thank you for bringing up some cool points!

Author's Note: I'm going to start doing entries called "Franco For Thought" that are more talk-style headcanons or just going more in depth off of some points others make!

Franco For Thought

Franco for sure has trauma from multiple aspects in life. Growing up in a mafia/mobster family, he's had to be guarded and tough at a young age. I believe he chose to keep his head down and stay quiet or not rebel from his father so he wouldn't be cast out or killed. In the comics they did say that the only reason Franco wasn't killed by his father, Salvatore, was because he was blood related.

Franco almost always shoots in the direction of a sound because if he doesn't shoot to kill, then the other person will. Survivability is definitely a huge thing for him especially since he's such a high ranking member and at any time he could be challenged.

Based off of Franco saying "My dad send you?" I think it would be fair to assume this wouldn't be the first time his father tried to send someone after him to assassinate Franco. He whips around so fast once he hears things.

Franco for sure seems the most aware of the doctors compared to the other prime assets. Perhaps he gets into lots of scuffles with the doctors and threatens them, or perhaps he is a bit passive aggressive with it, muttering under his breath.

I think it'd be interesting to see what goes on in some sort of expop/prime asset common room or their interactions/behaviors when they aren't in the trials!

#outlast #outlast trials #franco barbi #franco for thought

32 notes · View notes

afsosville · 5 months ago

Text

Shen Jiu, if he was actually a competent shizun

My HC for how Shen Jiu is like with kids without trauma/healed trauma and shit: Honestly with a person like Shen Jiu, I can only see his interactions with kids going one of two ways, him being so very fond of them, and ofc, how he's like in canon. Ok look, in the third book under Shen Jiu's character description, it said that Shen Jiu definitely had more reasons to relate to Luo Binghe than to hate him yet he still chose violence for some fucked up reason. So yes, I for one headcanon that when he's in a better place mentally, he would choose to be doting and fiercely protective. We've seen that he's capable of being like that with Ning Yingying (and Qiu Haitang), and it's not outwardly obvious, but we can see it with the way she behaves around Shen Yuan when she thinks that's still Shen Jiu. She definitely acts like a spoiled younger sister/daughter who looks up to her guardian and shows a great amount of trust in him. So just imagine if that was extended to all of his disciples.

No coz if he was spared enough kindness for him to actually want to do better, he would choose the first option and emphasize with LBH instead BECAUSE smn gave HIM a chance and emphasized with HIM. LBH and SJ are parallels, and so whatever happens to SJ, it would be reflected onto LBH.

I am dead. I am so dead. I'm bleeding out so fast and goddammit it HURTS- SJ and LBH's whole story hurts sm.

Anyways-

I kinda like to imagine that when Shen Jiu's heart settles on the fact that maybe, just maybe, bleeding on ppl who didn't cut him and taking his hurt out on LBH is a no good very bad idea, he's going to end up over compensating for his whole fucking childhood and the way he projects on him is completely flipped.

"I'm going to treat you the way I wanted to be treated and ur going to feel loved and safe do you hear me?!?"

"Yes shizun (*＾v＾*)"

Here's the thing, he may be fond of his disciples, but he is still shit at taking care of them. He was robbed of his own childhood, so he doesn't know what normal kids act like in the first place. And he has no idea what the typical stages of development are and he would totally underestimate how dumb kids who didn't grow up like him would be. So yeah, shit at babysitting but loves them anyhow, for the same reason he would hate them in canon. (They remind him too much of himself). Idk, him being bad with kids regardless of trauma is so funny to me.

That moment when it clicks for him that he may not hate them after all: "oh gods these brats actually like…me? Me? Fuck what the hell do I do?! This is why no one should trust me with kids Aghhhhh!! Still think they're brats tho :( but they're my brats >:) "

He'd be like Shifu from Kung Fu Panda as a shizun. He's strict, harsh as hell and shows no mercy when training, coz becoming a cultivator/martial artist is fucking hard and requires alot of discipline anyway. So he really is doing his best to make sure his disciples come out on top. Shen Jiu is a prideful person by nature, it's just that his disciples are his pride. He's always there for them when they need him, and he will make sure that none of his disciples will ever have to go through anything he has. He wants to be the reliable adult that his disciples seek out. (He will never let it be known that he seeks his disciples' approval and validation as much as they seek his.)

Really fucking specific but idgaf. My social teacher brought chocolate bars to class and gave them out one time. After a few moments she asked if everyone was enjoying themselves. After she heard us agree she went on a lesson about slave labour and the production of goods in underdeveloped countries. Shen Jiu. Would do this. Because he’s a madman.

And Binghe. He would still end up a little unhinged. Like sure being under a master that abuses you will fuck you up one way but if you had a guardian who will start genocides and watch cities burn for you… It does things.

Shen Jiu is morally ambiguous as fuck and that rubs off onto his disciples. He is still a terrible role model, but his kids wouldn't trade him for the world:)

Would be the type that gives 5 yr olds knives for birthdays, bc he had a shit ton of them hidden away on his person when he was that age and knew how to use them when he was on the streets.

“What? It's an appropriate gift! The kid needs to have smt to protect herself! Yeah I know she didn’t grow up on the streets so what? No need to rub it in. Ok fine! I’ll teach her then just shut up. Let’s go Yan-er, some people just don’t appreciate the value of giving practical gifts WAIT PUT THAT DOWN-”

Is this lowkey self indulgent? Yes. Do I particularly care? No. I just want my favourite blorbos to be happy, is that too much to ask for? My Roman Empire is that SJ probably could've been a crazy good shizun if he had a chance to heal. If you've read The Hidden Flower, then you know exactly what I mean.

I already made a post with all of the soft BingJiu fics ik. I could literally make another one rn where they're just chilling platonically, or even as an adoptive family bc I have no chill like that and read all the SJ fics there is to read.

It's already summer and all I have going for me is my job rn and I am sooooo close to going through all nearly 400 pages under the SJ tag coz I simply can.

#shen jiu #original shen qingqiu #og shen qingqiu #sj #lbh #i have no chill for these 2 #there is smt so therapeutic abt seeing ppl break cycles yk #i get the appeal of him not breaking the cycle story-wise but it still sucks that he wasnt able to :(#scum villain #scum villian self saving system

37 notes · View notes

wheels-of-despair · 9 months ago

Text

Billy Knight A-Z

A- Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they like to show affection?)

Billy speaks all the love languages, but he specializes in physical touch and quality time. Sometimes he just needs to touch you to recharge his battery. He loves being around you, even if you're not doing anything specific. And he's not great at vocalizing himself, but you make a point to tell him how much you appreciate every little thing about him. Just because you love watching him glow.

B- Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's your other half. You don't know how to function without each other at this point.

C- Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How do they like to cuddle?)

He was hesitant at first, but since you broke through that touch-starved barrier and convinced him you wanted to be close to him, he feeds on it. Even if it's just a graze or a shoulder squeeze as you walk by, he feels it in his soul, and he loves it.

D- Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they with cooking, cleaning, etc?)

Billy is currently living a life of domestic bliss, and it's the happiest he's ever been. He loves being home. He loves folding laundry, and washing dishes, and cooking with you. If the two of you could stay home together forever, you'd both jump at the chance.

E- Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Yeah, that's not happening. Next.

F- Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Billy doesn't want to get married or have kids, because he doesn't want to pass on the Knight name or genes. He knows he's yours, and you're his, and he's fine with things staying that way.

G- Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally.)

Extremely. After the violence of his early life, he's determined to be different. He's gentle, and kind, and thoughtful. Maybe too thoughtful. Baby boy overanalyzes everything.

H- Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they like it? What are their hugs like?)

They're his favorite things in the world. He went over a decade without being hugged before you found each other, and now he can't exist without them. He wants to squeeze you so bad, but he holds back because he's scared he'll hurt you. You do not share this concern, and regularly wrap your arms around him like a python. He loves it.

I- I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It took him a while. You said it first, and it scared the shit out of him. Nobody had ever said that to him but his mum, and he didn't know what to think. Eventually, you convinced him that your feelings were real, and you weren't going anywhere. When he finally said it back, you both cried. You haven't gone more than 12 hours without saying it to each other since.

J- Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He's not, but you're familiar with jealous boys, so you make a point to avoid anything that could set him off. Not because he'll lash out, but because he'll internalize and convince himself that you deserve better.

K- Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Soft and sweet... until they're not. ;) He's taller, so he likes to kiss your forehead. And your mouth. And your neck. Wherever you'll let him. He'll also take any kiss you want to give him. One time, you took his face in your hands and peppered every inch of it with kisses. He blushed so hard, you thought his head might explode. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for (to?) him.

L- Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

Awkward. He hasn't spent much time around them, so he doesn't really know how to interact. But since he didn't have much of a childhood, he loves to watch them. He thinks they're fascinating.

M- Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Billy is at his snuggliest in the morning. The King of 5 More Minutes. He doesn't like getting out of bed, and usually has to be bribed with breakfast. Definitely spends his first few minutes up stumbling around like a zombie.

N- Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He's not a huge fan of the dark, but he likes the calm and quiet that comes with night. Everything seems to move a little slower. He likes to watch TV with you, or read on opposite ends of the couch. Anything where you just get to be together.

O- Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or do they open up slowly?)

You spent years cobbling together the details of his childhood from the little bits and pieces he'd tell you. It's painful. It's over. He doesn't like to talk about it. And that's okay.

P- Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He gets frustrated with himself, mostly. He's been told he's stupid so many times that it's ingrained in him, and he hates the feeling. If it takes him more than two tries to get something right, he feels it, and that makes him angry. Luckily, he has someone with the patience of a saint (when it comes to him, anyway) to help him through it.

Q- Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they mention every little detail in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

He has a very good memory, but he still writes the important things down, because he's afraid his mind will play tricks on him.

R- Remember (What is their favorite moment of your relationship?)

The first time you took him to the beach. He'd never been there before, and was afraid of everything, but you held his hand and explained everything, from how to walk in the sand to how to roast the perfect marshmallow on the tiny fire you helped him build.

S- Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's a little insecure. (Some would say paranoid.) When he first moved in, you were afraid that he'd think you were crazy for your make-sure-everything's-locked run-through, but you couldn't sleep without it. You tried to hide it for a while with an "I'm going to get a drink of water" excuse, but soon realized that he was waiting for you to fall asleep so he could go do his own lock check. You both get a lot more sleep now that you've synced your routines.

T- Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

So hard. You normally have a very laid-back relationship, but he still puts pressure on himself to make every occasion perfect.

U- Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has terrible self-esteem. You put so much effort into building him up, because he's wonderful and you wouldn't trade him for the world, but he still doesn't quite believe he deserves to be loved. And every time he sees his brother, it's back to square one.

V- Vanity (How concerned are they with their appearance?)

Not at all. He likes to be clean and comfortable. End of list.

W- Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, and you feel the same.

X- Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Billy loves to read, but he didn't realize it until he was in his 20s. He had some catching up to do, but you were with him every step of the way, and now he's a total bookworm.

Y- Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't like loud noises, especially raised voices.

Z- Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Billy Knight is the cuddliest sleeper that ever slept.

More Billy here!

#writings of despair #billy knight #billy knight x you #billy knight x reader #billy knight x bunny mama #this is has been in my drafts for over a year #what the hell wheels

36 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

AITA for kind of being a homewrecker?

some background: i (22f) met this guy (23m, let’s call him rick) freshman year of college, four years ago. we became really close really fast, and we basically had all the same friends (we went to a very small school, it’s hard not to be friends with most people). unfortunately i took a year off of school after freshman year, so i kind of lost contact with all my college friends. when i came back, my friends and i reconnected immediately, but especially rick. we uh… sorta made plans to hook up at that point (we were horny and dumb and mutually attracted enough), but we got to my room and we kissed (which was my first kiss) but it was bad and i changed my mind before anything happened. the thing is, we were still friends after that, and he even told me that he was in love with me and thought that i might fall in love with him. he’s also said multiple times since then that he was being idiotic and that would have been terrible for us, and i agree, so we’re both glad that nothing happened. but since we were now in different grades, we weren’t as close friends, so that year passed without further incident.

fast forward a year (my junior year, his senior) and suddenly we’re getting closer again— we’re in a mutual club and therefore hang out a lot more. i realize at some point in november that oh shit, i have a crush on him. (sidenote— i don’t have crushes. i’d never been in love. ive realized since this that i think i might be on the aromantic/demiromantic spectrum, and i’ve always just said i’m queer because i… have had a very queer experience wrt my romantic/sexual feelings. sooooo.. this was weird). i mention this to another friend, and she informs me that rick had started dating someone.

oof.

so i don’t act on my feelings and hope that they go away. (spoiler: they don’t.) in january we hung out with a group of friends almost nightly. and rick and i flirt. oh god, do we flirt. but i didn’t even notice— that’s just the way that i interact with people, and he mirrors how people around him behave, so it was just a feedback loop of flirting while one of us was in a relationship! and the worst part is that is girlfriend (i’ll call her anne) was peripherally in the friend group; she hung out with the group sometimes, but not super often.

so obviously, a couple of our more perceptive friends tell us to shut the hell up and stop it. at this point i think, you know what? i’ll just avoid him. this lasted about two days, and then one of our mutual friends (i’ll call him joe) tells me i need to talk to rick. he can’t tell me why but i just need to talk to him.

so i text rick and i set up a time to talk to him, which i’m sure was scary for him, but i say him down and told him that we need to stop, because he’s in a relationship and it’s entirely inappropriate and i’m in love with him and he’s my best friend and i don’t want to lose him. and then he laughs. he told me then that he thought i was gonna yell at him to dump anne, because he had told joe that he wasn’t in love with her and never had been. and he thought joe had told me that so i could knock some sense into him.

so uh… he told me that he was going to break up with anne that night. (which, btw, was 2 days after valentine’s day. ouch.) he also said that that didn’t mean anything for us, but… the next day we hung out one on one all day, and then the next day, and then the whole weekend, aaaaand it was kind of a relationship. we started dating. it moved very fast, because we were already friends and we had already talked about sex in the past.

the thing that really pisses me off, though, is that another mutual friend threatened to tell anne about rick and i, so rick had to tell her at a really inopportune time instead of later. she was fine about the breakup before that, but after that she was clearly pissed, and ignored us both for the rest of the year. if it hadn’t happened that way i really think that we could’ve stayed friends, or at least stayed civil, but the way that it happened is still really upsetting to me. rick and i have been dating for almost six months now, and we’re really perfect for each other and i honestly expect to spend my life with him, but the way that it started was just such a mess and it still haunts me sometimes.

(to be clear: rick never cheated on anne. he’s been cheated on before, and has a bit of trauma in regards to that. cheating is just not a possibility for him.)

so… i know that i’m probably an asshole here, but… idk. should it bother me this much? or was it more justified than i think it was?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

85 notes · View notes

julianalvarez9 · 2 years ago

Text

oblivious / julian alvarez

masterlist

summary: you've known julian for almost your whole life. you've been in love with him too, for the same amount of time. confessing your feelings wasn't in your plans, at least not anytime soon, until a nosy friend in common puts your plans in jeopardy.

word count: 1.1k

author's note: i actually didn't know how to end this so its kinda bad kajsajs hope you like it anyways

"i see the way you look at him" enzo says behind your back, and you turn to greet him with a smile, even if whatever he had said to you just now left you confused. "what are you on about?" you try to dismiss him, scared now that everything you had wished to hide was, instead, lying on plain sight for everyone to see. for him to see. "he's just as oblivious as you" the benfica player, now representing his national team just like julian, points out. "you're truly meant for eachother" he scoffs, and leaves, just as quick as he had come, leaving you with multiple questions and no clear answers.

you feel someone massaging your shoulders a bit, to try and ease the tension that had grown there after your previous exchange. the identity would remain unknown to you, if you hadn't sensed the smell of his aftershave. soft but manly, just like him. "you look like you have just seen a ghost" julian jokes, trying to lift your mood, but when nothing more than a forced chuckle comes out of your mouth, he starts to worry. "has something happened, amor?" you can only refuse, but your reaction doesn't convince him. "then what's wrong, bebé?" you smile, noticing how the amount of pet names he called you grew exponentially when you couldn't voice your concerns. "enzo just said something that left me thinking. it's alright, really" you offered now a more sincere smile, and he nodded, accepting your answer this time and not pushing the subject any longer. he figured that if he wanted to find more about what happened, he had to ask his teammate instead.

even if he hadn't truly seen the interaction between you two, it still bothered him a bit that you had reacted like this, figuring that if it left you this bothered then it would be something important. something important that you couldn't say to him, even when you two told eachother everything.

julián knew better than to mistrust enzo. after all, they had known eachother for years, going back all the way to river plate's lower divisions, keeping in touch even when the midfielder went away on loan. but there was a funny feeling in his stomach, eating him from inside. he needed to talk to him, and fast, to avoid his brain going into overload with the amount of tragic scenarios he was creating.

"what did you tell y/n today?" was the first thing julián said to enzo when he returned to their shared room in argentina's camp. "ni siquiera un 'hola, amigo, cómo estás?'" (not even a hi mate, how are you?) enzo quipped, but quickly got up from the bed when the funny, joking side of the forward player didn't come out at his pun. instead, his browns keep furrowed while he fixed his suitcase, getting ready to go back to argentina after winning the world cup, something the two of them had wished since they were kids.

"told her that I saw how she looks at you. that you're made for eachother" he said the truth, figuring that lying is way out of this would be almost impossible. but he also wanted his two friends to finally take their sunglasses off and see what everyone else could: that they were, in fact, hopelessly in love with eachother. so in love that it blinded them, that it didn't allow you two to see the endless possibilities of you two being together, if only one of you could finally make the call.

"sos un boludo!" (you're an asshole!) julián screamed at his friend, which left him startled, not expecting this kind of reaction to the news. "she looked like she had seen a ghost when I went to her. she obviously doesn't like me, and now everything's ruined" he whined, seating himself on the floor against the bed. enzo quickly went to hug him, not knowing if he was crying or not behind the hands that covered his face. "look, it was a joke. i'm sure she knows I was only messing around, like always. maybe she reacted like that because she had a bad day and wasn't in the mood for jokes. if you want i can go talk to her-" the man city player quickly got his arms, forcing the player in front of him to sit back where he was. "i'm sorry for screaming. but it's fine, you did enough. i'll go".

the truth was that julian had imagined many times how finally confessing his feelings would be. he thought about doing it when he first had to move to join river plate, but back then you two were so young. he thought about it every time he came back to town for the holidays. but he never could visualize an scenario where you reciprocated his feelings: he always pictured you running away, and hating him for ruining something so good.

his legs alone led him to your room while he was thinking about all that stuff. still now, while looking at the door and deciding if this was the right thing to do, he wasn't sure what he would say to you once he got to see your face. still, he lifted his hand and was about to knock at your door, and each time, he backed off. julian was sure he looked like those japanese figurines of cats that were believed to bring good luck to their owners. oh, how he needed that kind of luck now. but any thought he could've had disappeared once the door opened, and it left him confused for a second. he hadn't knocked, had he?

just like him, you were confused when you bumped into someone, not recognizing who could have been at your door. once you had taken a step back, you realized who it was. “oh, hi, julian. i was going to your room too. i need to speak to you about something” you quietly say, moving outside of the door frame so he could come in. julian simply nodded, positioning himself in the middle of the room, awkwardly standing. you closed the door, while he muttered quietly “i was here to talk about something too”. anticipation started to raise in your bones, afraid that he was about to confront you about your feelings before you had a chance to explain. “do you want to go first?”.

“why not at the same time?" you chuckled at his suggestion, reminding yourself of the many times you repeated these antics to avoid being the one that talks first. still, you agreed, because at least it would buy you some time if everything went sour after what you needed to say to him. the two of you started the countdown, and when it reached 0, you both spoke up.

“estoy enamorado de vos” (i’m in love with you).

“enzo tenía razón” (enzo was right). at julian’s confused reaction, you just laughed, aware that he probably didn’t understand what you meant. “yo también estoy enamorada de vos. been for a while, actually”. (i’m in love with you too).

#football imagine #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football blurb #julian alvarez imagine #julian alvarez x reader #julian alvarez x you #julian alvarez x y/n #julian alvarez blurb

335 notes · View notes

lieslab · 5 months ago

Text

The depths between: Chapter eleven

Trigger warning: Drowning, blood, and death

Intro

Chapter ten

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

There were no words to describe the amount of fear vibrating through your bones. The nausea had subsided and was replaced with a feeling of helplessness. You opened your mouth to scream, but all that came out were free-floating bubbles.

“Hyunjin!” Felix screamed as he burst through the waves. He glanced around with wide eyes, but there was no sign of either of you. The last thing he had seen was a glimpse of your silhouettes against the barren moon before you were sucked from his sight.

He wanted to burst into tears. You were the first human that he had genuinely talked to and wanted to get to know more. He knew it wouldn’t be forever, but if you died, he’d never be able to forgive himself. He was meant to help people, not harm them.

He helped rescue a fair share of drowning people before, but he had always kept the interactions short. Drowning people were in shock. If they were to utter that a golden siren helped them, they’d never be believed. He couldn’t really start to form a relationship with them, but you were different.

You were weary of him, but you weren’t terrified. You were comfortable enough that you didn’t view him as some sort of twisted freaky monster. He missed being a human so bad. It was an internal longing that never went away. He couldn’t change the past, he didn’t want you to suffer the same fate.

Darker and darker your sight became as you were jerked further and further from the surface. Your punches and kicks were pathetic against the force of the water. They never made an impact against Hyunjin and he blended in with the darkness.

The scratch of tail fins here and a glimpse of a cold arm there. His webbing against your skin was cold and sticky. The more you fought back, the more energy you used, the more your lungs ached. How did it all go so wrong?

You clawed at the hand gripping your wrist, but it didn’t matter. You were on the verge of losing everything. Your life, your sanity, all of it would be released beneath the waves. Would you ever see the surface again? Would you ever suck in another breath of oxygen?

A strangled cry fell from your lips and burst into bubbles near your mouth. Hyunjin smirked and gripped tighter. You panicked more and squirmed. Every part of your lungs was on fire, but he didn’t seem to care.

Your suffering was a delight to watch and it was nothing, but a sweet indulgence. The adrenaline pumping through his brain sent his endorphins skyrocketing. This was his purpose now. Ever since he turned into a dark siren, he chased this feeling. It was a high that couldn’t be beat.

Your body craved oxygen. You were a ticking time bomb and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you crumbled. You sucked in a shaky breath as your eyes drooped. Your limbs began to weaken as defeat settled in. You sucked in a mouthful of water and choked.

Your body instinctively twitched as your lungs tried to expel water, but it didn’t work. There was no oxygen, it was suffocating. Water funneled and found a new home in the warmth of your lungs. Desperation filled you as your hands clawed a final time.

You tried so hard to get free. You fought to stay conscious. You fought against the burn and the sting of salt, but humans were never meant to survive against this monster. You felt your body go still and then it all went black.

When you stopped fighting back, Hyunjin dropped your wrist. Down, down, down, down. Your body was weightless as you sank. Your arms lifted above your head and your face relaxed. The tension had resolved as you floated further and further away.

He kept an eye on you curiously. Right beside you, he swam making sure that you were going to stay unconscious. Soon you’d be dead and he didn’t care. What kind of siren would fate set you as? Would you be a golden ray of light like Felix or a darkened soul like his?

It happened so fast that he didn’t understand what was going on. There was a flash of gold and he assumed it was you changing forms, but then he felt the sting. An angry shriek escaped his lips as he hissed in pain.

His gills burned at the sudden slash of nails grating against them. He spun around angrily with narrowed eyes, but then the unexpected happened. Light sirens were pure forms. The sweetest souls trapped inside of creatures that were far from their understanding.

They did good and they were not meant for evil. They didn’t have that ability in their genetic coding. At least, that’s what the stories said. They left out the occasional rarity; when good becomes tarnished and rotted with evil.

Felix didn’t think. He was just so angry as he saw you sinking. His nails striked against Hyunjin’s ribs and then he jerked forward bearing his razor-sharp teeth. There was nothing Hyunjin could do as Felix bit down on his throat.

Dark blood oozed out into the water and Hyunjin shrieked again. He lashed out, but Felix dodged. He raked his nails along Hyunjin’s gills with a snarl. He wasn’t going to stop until Hyunjin was dead. The metallic taste of blood on his tongue was addicting. How could he? How could he take away your life? How could he doom you to this life for eternity?

Hyunjin’s head started to feel light. Despite having gills, sirens still needed their blood. It was the way their organs still worked. Another mystery that nobody, including sirens themselves, quite understood.

One moment Hyunjin was angry and the next, his vision was cut out. The ghostly feeling of nails and teeth digging into his skin began to ebb away. Felix began to growl, entirely unaware that down below, your legs had begun to seal together to reveal a golden tail.

His heart pounded angrily in his chest. A bucking bull with nobody to stop it. Over and over again, it rammed into the side of his ribs. The anger overflowed and then it burst. That fury began to root itself into his heart as his tail turned darker and darker and into a shade of pitch black.

He had never been this angry before. He hissed as Hyunjin’s body began to shift into a foamy substance. Sea foam. It drifted towards the top of the ocean, it’d soon be part of the foamy waves. Hyunjin was finally dead, no longer a problem, but that didn’t stop new problems from arising.

A light siren had turned into a dark siren. Dark sirens were enemies with the light sirens. Hyunjin had only put up with Felix because he felt that he owed him his life for rescuing him by the fishing boats.

And you? Down below, your eyes were finally opening. Once again, you could breathe. You could see everything crystal clear, despite it being dark. Your food poisoning was no longer an issue, but the new dark siren floating above you was.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Next part: Epilogue

Taglist: @ilovetocas1 @vvislici0us @fr34k4c1dr41n @hamburgers101 @juskz @x-0ophelia0-x @viviworkshere @velvetmoonlght @jeonginsleftcheek

Masterlist

Requests, taglist, and inbox rules

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #skz fanfic #stray kids au #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix x y/n #lee felix x you #stay #hwang hyunjin

15 notes · View notes

elialys · 1 year ago

Text

I’ve finished season 2 of The Newsreader two hours and a half ago, and I’ve yet to be able to talk about my feels with ANYONE, so I’m doing what I do in most cases when I have too many feels about something—opening a new word document to write things down.

This season genuinely surprised me so many times. I had no actual expectations, but I had thoughts on what might happen from the season promo and the episodes' synopses. Most of the time, turned out I was absolutely wrong, and I’ve never been happier to be wrong.

This is not very coherent, more ‘string of thoughts’ than anything else, and I’m skipping soooo many things but here are my main thoughts/emotions on each episode:

Episode 3 Greed and Fear

I knew it would be about Helen’s past being dug out and was so worried. Didn’t expect to be laughing so much?? Like, only a couple of scenes but god those were genuinely funny. Gerry’s wife telling Helen’s about her torn vagina from giving birth? Lindsay’s song about Charlie being hit hard in the economic crash? Absolute gold.

The "hey let’s get married to give that columnist something else to write about” idea from Dale and Helen’s reaction to it went about as well as I expected it to go.

I have to say, I did not expect the Helen & Charlie’s interactions to get that real that fast but I…kinda liked it? I still think Charlie’s a shit head but I loved that they made him feel like an actual human? Genuinely fond of that scene of him and Helen in his office waiting for midnight, with her on his couch telling him about her past, it just felt genuine.

Don’t get me started on Helen and Dale on HER couch at the end of the episode though. Just, I want to live there, in that scene. With them cuddling on that couch, and nothing bad ever ever happening to their couple, ever.

Episode 4 The Hungry Truth

This episode was a punch in the gut. The way the approached the Bicentennial event and the Aboriginal side of the story was so poignant and heartbreaking. That shot of them watching the cheery News at Six promo at the end instead of the planned interview with Lynus was captivating in a ‘I feel sick in the stomach’ kind of way.

Helen’s convictions and hard work being cast aside and spat on again at the last second was infuriating, she tries SO HARD to stand up for those who don’t have a voice and she hits walls every step of the way.

Dale’s real proposal? I'm still recovering. When I read the initial synopsis, I worried he was going to do something *big*, but he didn’t. It was intimate and romantic and sincere, and holy hell couldn’t have happened at a worse time ??? I know there was no way for him to really ‘hide’ his preparations from Helen at that point but ugh.

That end scene had me in tears tbh, both Sam and Anna just killed me. Because you can tell Helen loves Dale and he loves her yet she turns him down and everything hurts?

Episode 5 A Model Daughter

Let me just say I’ve loved Kay’s character. I love the extra depth it brought to the Walters family, and I love how she allowed for the very real issue of heroin addiction to be explored this season. And obviously, I love how her story intertwined with Helen’s and the way it made this episode unfold, like, DAAAAMN.

But first of all, Helen and Dale. Oh the pain. Oh the sweet sweet pain. I binged so I barely had time to process any of my feelings, but I felt all the feelings. It was dramatic without being overdramatic. Again, all of it felt so human. I wish we’d seen more actual conversation between Helen and Dale with Helen explaining exactly why she doesn’t want marriage and why she broke it off completely, but there’s enough there to get it and just hurt with them.

That scene of them in the make up room, after Dale realizes there’s been some ‘flirting’ going on between her and Charlie? SO many things are said without them needing to actually say them, it just hangs in the air and OH THE DELICIOUS PAIN.

That award party was so good, they were all so drunk and I was so worried about Dale. And then the whole Gerry, Tim, Dale thing was wholesome for about two and half seconds. I wasn’t sure when the ‘gay club’ scene would happen or how Dale would end up there, I didn’t expect things to happen that way, it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. I feel sad for people who ship Dale and Tim because I’m sure this is not how they hoped Tim’s character would come back—and that the random dude Dale wakes up next to is not who they were hoping for. Dale’s whole spiraling out this episode was just painful in a painfully perfect way.

Everything about Kay’s interview, every character involved…ugh so damn good. The interview itself made me cry, but that’s probably because of my own issues haha. Kay going to Helen and begging her to take her part off the story, not knowing Lindsay decided to make the story ALL about her and her parents against Helen’s assurances that they wouldn't do that.

Helen’s demeanor sitting at that desk, finally deciding that enough is enough. HELEN STANDING UP, GETTING THE TAPES AND DESTROYING THE TAPES WHILE WALKING OUT.

Actual Queen. Might be my favorite sequence in the entire season, but don’t take my word for it yet. Of course she goes to Charlie and jumps on him right after that but everyone’s human hahahaaaaa.

Episode 6 Fireworks

I don’t even know what to say, I’m still trying to process this. They gave us time with everyone, and I loved every second of it, but I still begged for more time with Helen and Dale, individually and together. Now I get what Sam meant by ‘Dead Dale’. Oh yes he’s the Big Guy now with the Big House, King of News and all that but he’s clearly dead inside too, so that’s nice I guess.

The way they resolved the issue of “Helen and Charlie” being a thing in under 3 minutes combined was beautiful to be honest. I was losing it watching that short, extremely distressing montage of Charlie and Helen like, might have clawed at my face a bit. But the way she threw him out of her life the second he dared say some shit about Dale? Beautiful.

Lindsay needs to die in a fire though. I’m so glad Dennis punched him in the face but someone needs to push him in front of a bus. That scene between him and Helen in his office was just VILE. What a pathetic excuse for a human being, all these things he did to her and SAID to her, I am not okay. And him sabotaging her at her new job like, DIE ALREADY OMG.

Was it really Gerry who told the columnist about Tim though??? Because that scene between Gerry and Dale, all unspoken? GOD. This damn show.

Gotta end with Helen and Dale. I am so upset. I think/hope they will find their way back together WHEN we get a 3rd season, and I believe them learning to live apart is needed and necessary, BUT GOD I AM GENUINELY HURTING. Helen’s desperate proposal was so upsetting. The fact that Dale was too dead inside to tell her more than “no” and “just do your job” like.

I don’t even blame him because he’s a hot mess trapped in his own catatonia but THE PAIN. That airport scene, someone put me out of my misery please, how dare they use THAT song (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, anyone??). Also, I realize I’m extremely biased given how much I love Anna Torv but??? She doesn’t say a single word in that scene as she watches Dale on the tv yet you know exactly what she’s thinking and feeling and everything hurts.

Noelene and Rob? So sorry I didn’t mention you at all in this post yet, you were so lovely and precious and so necessary for my emotional sanity, absolutely love how they “mirrored” and contrasted Helen and Dale, even if it adds to my pain as a Helen/Dale shipper who just watched three failed proposals in the span of 8 hours.

This show better be renewed. I need them to fix this mess. Wonderfully crafted mess but still a mess.

#the newsreader #the newsreader spoilers #long incoherent rambling about my emotions #since i have no one to talk to #so many more things i could talk about

26 notes · View notes