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imastrangeone98 · 5 years ago

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Reunion

(A/N: wow people really like Carlos huh? That's fine, I do too XD my last two were surprisingly popular and I have no idea why, but I'll roll with it for now. Here's part 3? I guess? Is this a series now?)

Carlos would be lying if he said he wasn't terrified.

Traversing through hordes of certified sci-fi zombies was a cakewalk. Dealing with fear-driven civilians was a no-brainer.

But reuniting with his ex of two months? He may as well strip naked and light himself on fire; he was that scared.

What would he say? What would he do? What if she refused to see him outright?

Okay, maybe the latter was less likely, given the situation, but what happens after they all escape? Would that be the end? Would he truly never see her again?

He didn't want to know the answer, but had a feeling he would face it soon regardless. So with a deep breath, he pushed open the door to Moon's Donuts and entered, rifle raised. Taking care to avoid a fight where he could, he slunk down the hallway toward the storage room.

Once he was looking at the door, he froze, hand resting on the wood. So many emotions raced through his mind- fear, hope, and the unrelenting love that refused to fade, even after his eventful departure two months ago.

It was the quiet hiss a few feet away from him that finally gave him the push he needed to enter the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Emma was impossible to miss. She was hunched on the floor, hair tied up in a ponytail, wrapping gauze around her middle. She didn't even look up before she said, "You didn't have to come."

"I know." To his surprise, his voice was smooth. "I wanted to."

"Why?" Now she turned to gaze at him, eyes shining like rain-stained glass in the dimming fluorescent lighting. "You're the one who left."

"I know." Quietly setting his rifle near the door, he slowly approached her, ignoring his body's desire to pull her close to his chest. "And it was the biggest mistake I ever made."

"Didn't sound like it to me. Sounded like you were more than happy to leave me here." Her voice was brittle; if he so much as made the wrong step, she'd break. "So- how was Colombia?"

So she was being resistant. About what he expected- but surprisingly, she wasn't outright pushing him away. He needed to play his cards right, or she would be out of his life forever. "Like shit."

"And here I was under the impression that you would like it there." Wincing, she pressed a hand against her abdomen. "After all, it was away from my shithole apartment, right?"

"Emma-"

"Don't." She turned her back. He silently cursed himself; he was losing her. "You're here to escort me. So escort me."

Now his voice shook. "Emma... Please."

"No." Her face was still turned away from him. "I'm done."

Her words were final. His heart broke at the sound of them, but he bit his tongue, hoping that silence would be enough to block out the sound of his shattering soul. "Alright."

With a groan, she hoisted herself up from her spot- only to collapse back down, holding tightly onto her sides.

He rushed to her side. "Are you okay?" he asked, hands carefully brushing over her dressed wounds. "You said your ribs were bruised..."

"I did, too," she groaned. "It hurts worse than I thought."

"I need to check if they're broken." For the first time, he managed to meet her gaze. "Can you lie down?"

Their eyes stayed locked on each other for what felt like forever. Carlos noticed that in this light, the corners of her eyes were wet. Flakes of blood and soot were pasted on her cheeks. Her hair was tousled, a true rat's nest.

She was still as beautiful as he remembered.

"...Okay." Slowly, she laid down on the floor. Goosebumps traced her skin the second it came in contact with the cold linoleum. He delicately pressed his hands on her stomach, placing gentle pressure on her ribs, searching for any potential breaks in the bone.

"Physically, it feels fine," he finally announced, fighting the urge to trace his fingers on her soft skin. "Maybe the bruising just feels worse 'cause you keep putting pressure on it?" Fuck, he wished he paid more attention in Basic Medicine. "I have some cream for that. You want me to put it on?"

"I can do it." Plucking up the jar from his hand, Emma pried it open and began to unwrap the gauze around her belly. "Ow."

"Here," he whispered, covering her hand with his own. He had forgotten how soft she was. "Let me do it."

Their eyes met once more. And this time, he could easily see the tears that welled up.

"Carlos..." she croaked.

"Hush," he cooed, taking over the task of delicately unwrapping the gauze. "Está bien. Te tengo."

"But-"

"Let me do this for you." Brushing the damp hair off her forehead, he finally managed to get the bandages off-

And he fought the urge to wince.

Her entire abdomen was stained with blue and purple, like bad wine. Even the faintest brush of his fingertips over it sent her reeling, despite the fact that he was applying the cream at a gentle pace.

"Just give it a few moments," Carlos reassured her, giving his handiwork one more check before deciding it was enough for him to rewrap it. "You'll feel better in no time."

"I hope so," she replied. She laid a hand on her freshly wrapped side, before- to his surprise- leaning into him. "So... tired..."

He couldn't blame her. No doubt she'd been up fending off hordes of the undead, along with avoiding the huge monster that seemed determined on ripping her and Jill apart.

Something itched in his head. A thought he couldn't quite understand.

"It's after STARS members."

"Tyrants at Arklay..."

"They turn them into... something else. Monsters."

What could it be?

The radio on his hip crackled. "Carlos, it's Jill. I've restored power to the subway."

Emma's eyes fluttered open slightly. "Jill...?"

"Good job," he responded, quietly shushing her back to slumber with a few strokes of her hair. "Next up is the traffic control system. It should be in the subway company's offices."

"Right. I think I know the building."

"Awesome."

"...Did you find her?"

Of course she'd ask that question. "Yeah, she's here. She's sleeping right now."

"Alright. Get her to the subway; I'll take care of systems."

He sighed, but replied with a firm, "Yes, ma'am," before clipping it back to his belt and smoothly sweeping Emma up in his arms.

She didn't need to ask him twice.

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A/N: uhh so I might skip around some events and just head straight to the juicy stuff. Hopefully this one works out well enough

Edit: read the sequel! :D

#resident evil 3 #resident evil 3 remake #carlos oliveira #jill valentine #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira x oc

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imagineleonkennedy · 6 years ago

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That one where Leon is actually the protagonist to another video game

So I kinda wrote this a while back, and only recently gained the motivation to polish it up after an influx of angsty Leon Kennedy related stuff came in. It’s still kinda angsty at the start (and contains some of my own personal headcanons about Leon), but it’s also hopeful, which Stardew Valley is all about. It’s pretty short but I wanted to just hammer out what Leon’s prologue would’ve been like, and then let others decide how it’d play out, like you would in-game.

Anyways, thanks for reading this silly piece of mine. I hope you enjoy!

——

Leon can’t settle on what’s more absurdly irritating: the blood dripping into his left eye, or the difficulty he’s having deciding on how he should’ve crammed himself into this corner.

His hands might be trembling as he scans the crowd of corpses that lay twice-dead on the once pristine lab floor with his currently functioning eye. There’s no noise except for his own heavy breathing, no movement aside from his subtly quaking TMP held defensively out in front of him.

He needs to get out. Now.

A quick check through the pockets of his tactical vest let him know doesn’t have enough ammo to double tap them all, that he can’t risk using it up and losing use one of his only remaining weapons. And if he can’t get the data he’s recovered to Hunnigan for analyzation, this tiny USB drive he’d been given tucked away in his back pocket, god only knows what earth-shattering outbreak could happen next.

And so, he just runs. Runs through the maze of bodies, praying to whoever’s listening that they either won’t move for another 30 seconds or aren’t quick enough to grab his leg and get a bite in. If he falls here, he’s good as dead.

Up ahead, somewhere beyond the flickering lights of this desolate lab, something terrible shrieks, awaiting him on his path to freedom.

“Good work, Leon.”

She always says this after a successfully completed mission; he’s heard this so many times it’s lost its meaning. But he doesn’t tell her that. He just nods even though she can’t see him, more focused on staying awake long enough to just get home and drink himself to sleep.

“Thanks.” He answers, like clockwork. But instead of hanging up, like usual, Hunnigan continues on.

“By the way, your contract renewal is coming up next week, want me to get started on that for you?”

“Sure.”

“See you tomorrow for your report.”

He sets his phone in the passenger’s seat and turns down his usual exit. It’s late. Too late to hit up that bar three blocks from his apartment and get sufficiently drunk before they close up. He’s got a bottle of aged whiskey in the pantry, he thinks. Hopes.

Leon navigates the roads almost mindlessly, an action dictated by muscle memory rather than thought. There’s no other cars, just the lights above the streets and the traffic lights going through their motions. His eyes stay fixed on the asphalt stretching before him, half expecting to see bloodstains shining wet and fresh in the headlights of his vehicle.

By the time he pulls into the parking lot of the complex he dwells in, he finds his free hand has strayed to the firearm holster he’s got strapped to his thigh. He reminds himself to breath deeply as he steps out of his car, hits the half-functional auto lock button on the keyring, and slips inside before the silence of the night can get to him. The harshly lit interior and fluorescent lights above him in the entry hallway only help marginally.

Leon knows he’s been scattered to the winds. Each time he’s in a place like that, every lab, every overrun village, every alleyway crawling with zombies, some small part of him feels like it’s been left behind there. An inconsequential part, maybe, but those pieces add up. A solid chunk of soul gone away, too soaked in blood and the ash of vaporized bodies to be remotely functional.

He shuffles into his cold apartment, drops his keys on the counter with little fanfare, and makes for the kitchen. His cat’s sleeping atop the back of the couch in the adjacent living room, but stirs as he passes by and starts rummaging around the pantry. It’s where he usually leaves it, that large bottle of amber liquid that keeps the metaphorical demons at bay. Upon further inspection he finds that he’s got enough left for hopefully two glasses; enough to pull him under and maybe get a few hours worth of rest.

Lucie hops down from her perch after he sits at the table, whiskey measured out and ready. Her weight there is a balm for his nerves. One hand strokes her long, black fur as he downs the first drink. Warmth spreads through his chest in a welcome burst, and he sighs heavily as he finishes it off. He looks down, and his cat looks up, watching him idly.

There are times when Leon, absurdly, wishes he were a cat. They usually come after a few Black Russians. Leon had once confessed this to Chris in some dive bar in New York three months back; he’d never let him live it down.

Now, despite the fact that the whiskey hasn’t even begun to pump through his bloodstream, he wishes it again. To look up at someone with those curious, icy blue eyes of hers, to only have to worry about food and shelter. No churning emotions or terrible dreams that haunt his much more complicated brain.

It’s silly, but he’s lived this way for so long. No, like he’s not even living, just existing.

She’s puttering away like an engine when he polishes off the bottle and resolves to get more tomorrow after his report. Scooping up Lucie and leaving the empty glasses on the table, he heads to his bedroom. His cat curls up at the foot of the bed when he sets her there, clearly content. Leon simply strips himself of all but his undergarments and collapses onto the mattress.

His phone vibrates, but he’s too tired to answer properly. And besides, the booze is doing its job, clouding his brain sufficiently enough to keep the worst of it away and enticing him to close his eyes and-

-he’s running, legs pumping and he can only hope his memory is good enough to get him back to the elevator to the surface level. Turn left, then right, cut through the cold storage to get to the south hall by the operating room.

And they’re behind him. That slow drag of their legs and listless moaning echoing across the pristine metal halls. They won’t catch up with him at the pace he’s moving, but they have the luxury of ignoring exhaustion, all other human limitations. They’ll wear him out before he can ever hope to escape. There never was any escape, not from the hand fate has dealt him.

He reaches the elevator and jams the button, trying to catch his breath. The indicator symbol above the doors lights up, but the sounds of the dead drown out anything else aside from his pounding heart. Leon spins on his heel and sees their shadows at the other end of the corridor, sees them sway and move with their undead owners. Again, he presses the call button, knowing it won’t make it come any faster, but swiftly running out of options.

…save for the door that suddenly appears to his left. Probably not the safest option, but as the first zombies start to round the corner, he knows he doesn’t have a choice.

Leon turns and runs through, into a suffocating darkness. His legs move but he’s not getting any farther away. The moans grow in volume until he can almost taste the putrid odor of rotting bodies-

He collides with something solid, and then there’s warmth, surrounding him. Gentle arms, trim nails trailing down his scalp, that long forgotten perfume filling his senses. Everything is silent. It takes him a long, long moment to realize where he is.

“Mom…?” His voice is so small. He is small; he’s little again. He’d forgotten ever being this young.

“Leon, listen to me sweetie, this…this may be hard for you to understand, but…” she squeezes him tighter. “He’s going…somewhere else, so we need to say goodbye, okay?”

He nods against the coat his mother is wearing, soft to the touch, and she straightens up, wiping at her face. She takes his little hand in her own, and Leon follows her through the door at the end of the creaky hallway.

There are a few people in this room. His father, his aunt and uncle, standing at a bedside. They all look so sad. The air is warm with the fire that burns in the hearth across the room. And between them all, his wandering eyes fall on the wrinkled face peeking out from the pile of blankets. Upon spotting him, a smile breaks out across it.

“Leon, my dear grandson…” he hears, somehow. His mother leads him to bed, crouches beside him as if in silent support. “I want you have something…”

“Yes grandpa?” Leon likes his grandpa a lot. He would take him on walks through the forests behind his cabin, teach him the names of the plants and what kind of mushrooms he can safely eat with prep. They’d get caught in the rain sometimes and his mother would chide them for not bringing an umbrella with them. He’d showed him the basics of cooking and fishing, all throughout the many visits Leon and his parents had with him.

He’d forgotten he ever knew any of this.

A hand, weathered with age, moves towards Leon across the duvet, and in it, a thick, white envelope.

“Go on, take it.”

He grasps at the paper and pulls it from his grandfather’s hold. It’s addressed to him on the front, and on the back, a purple stamp seals it shut. As Leon’s finger starts to slide under it, he’s stopped.

“No, don’t open it just yet, Leon. Have patience.”

The window by the fireplace shudders without warning. He jolts with a squeak and realizes he can see countless rotting faces outside, mouths agape, moaning silently. They’re waiting for him; for a man living a half-life under a growing cloak of the dead. He needs to go outside and keep running, so that the rest of his family, standing frozen in their places, faces rigid with grief, may be spared a similar fate.

“Now, listen carefully.”

It’s been years since his grandfather died, but he suddenly remembers his words so well; the deep, raspy tone with a sweet laugh underneath it, the gentle but shaking palm that lands atop his head and squeezes with waning strength. The fear drains from him in an instant, and draws his attention back to his ailing relative.

“There will come a day when you feel overwhelmed by the burdens of modern life, and your bright spirit will begin to fade before a growing emptiness.”

The monsters are gone when he glances back outside, and there’s nothing but starlight, beyond the glow of the fire and the well-kept glass of the window. For how old it is, the cabin is pristine. He’s never seen the stars so clearly.

“When that happens, my dear boy, you’ll be ready for this gift.”

Even as he’s dying, the old man’s eyes twinkle with the satisfaction of a life well lived. Even as they slowly slide shut.

“Now…let Grandpa rest…”

Fingers sliding out of his hair, his mother gently tugging him away from the bedside as his father, his aunt and uncle hurry forward. He holds the envelope close, and looks out the window again.

The stars are still there, and they’ve always been there, waiting for him, too.

A headache is squeezing his brain when he wakes up before dawn, mouth dry and tongue stuck to his palette. There’s a warm weight on his chest that he instinctively recognizes as Lucie. Blearily, Leon opens his eyes and stares up at the darkened ceiling, trying to reconcile where he is to what he knows and what he remembers. And all he can come up with is the chase down the lab corridors the other day, not by zombies but by a thrice mutated Licker, the agonizingly slow elevator, and then-

The memory comes to him softly, like turning the page of a book he hadn’t read in years and suddenly realizing ‘oh, I forgot about this part’. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Leon sits up. Lucie promptly starts to slide off of his chest, and while her claws digging into his flesh sting, he barely pays her any mind.

He hasn’t thought about his childhood in a long time. Those days feel like they belonged to someone else, someone unburdened by the weight of the world, by the claws of monsters and the safety of thousands. The Leon that could look back on those memories fondly died somewhere in Raccoon City, turned to ash with its destruction.

And yet…

Leon peels his miffed cat from his chest and stumbles out of bed, fighting past the cotton in his head that indicates an oncoming hangover and making his way across the room. His closet is the one thing in the apartment that isn’t spartan like the rest of it; crammed with shit he doesn’t need and yet still couldn’t bear to let go of, for whatever sentimental reasons he possesses somehow.

When he first moved out to D.C., his aunt and uncle had shipped him the rest of his belongings, and these are what remained of his days prior to the police academy. Leon digs through old boxed editions of D&D, nigh-unplayable monster movie VHS tapes, clothes that don’t fit him anymore but he never really tossed out, a sock he’d lost the twin to…

And finally, tucked in a shoebox filled with photos of his parents, he uncovers it. The envelope is creased in one corner, wrinkled somewhat and the white just a little yellowed with age. But the purple seal remains intact. He can see the tiny rip in the flap where he’d tried to open it initially.

Now, he smoothly slides his finger under it, breaks the wax sealing, and pulls out the contents that he can read well enough in the growing light of dawn. The first is a carefully folded letter addressed to him, the handwriting within neat and unhurried.

“Dear Leon,

If you are reading this, you must be in dire need of change. The same thing happened to me, long ago. I lost sight of what mattered most in life. Real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place where I truly belonged. I’ve enclosed the deed to that place: Kennedy Farm. It’s in Stardew Valley, further to the west in Northern California. It’s the perfect place to start over.

This was my most precious gift of all. And now, it’s yours my boy. I know you’ll take good care of it.

Love, Grandpa.”

He rereads the aged letter four times before finally, almost reverently, pulling out the even older piece of paper from within. It’s an ancient, but still somehow official looking, receipt to a massive plot of land, titled to his grandfather’s name. His headache almost seems to evaporate as he glances it over, eyes straining in the waning dark. Leon suddenly feels wide awake, like he’s surfaced from the churning ocean and finally, finally, someone’s thrown him a life preserve he can cling to, pull himself out of the depths, and escape this cycle of sinking and struggling.

He’s never been able to bring himself to quit. Too much at stake, too many lives at risk, this burden he’s taken upon himself after barely escaping Raccoon City with his life.

But reading this feels like a release. Like he’d been waiting for someone to give him permission to quit. Funny how it ended up being the man who would fondly watch Leon run circles in the puddles after a rainstorm, and encourage him to bring flowers home for everyone staying in that quiet cabin on the edge of-

That farm. Of course it had been a farm. A forest, a small town, so much smaller than the town he grew up in outside of Denver. A beach with little treasures riding in on the breaking waves.

Behind him, his phone rings. He knows it to be Hunnigan, but he doesn’t want to answer it. He’ll have to. He still has a report to type, data that needs to be analyzed, a debriefing to attend to. For now, he kneels here, as dawn breaks and fills the room with morning light.

Kennedy farm. Stardew Valley.

It sounds like a promise.

Hunnigan doesn’t even blink when he tells her, but she does look the slightest bit annoyed.

“You could’ve told me this before I started on the paperwork.” She leans back in her chair, and it creaks subtly with the well-worn sound of having been used for a very long time now.

“I kind of just now found out I’ve got a plot of land on the west coast.”

“So you’re gonna be a farmer?”

“It’ll keep me busy.”

Ingrid chuckles, eyes assessing him behind her rimmed glasses, as if wondering if this is some elaborate prank. When Leon gives no indication of such, she plucks the terms and conditions paper he’s gotta read and acknowledge every other year from the surface of her desk and pushes off of it. It’s a well practiced motion that rolls her chair right next to the paper shredder by the window. She drops it in with a subtle flourish.

“God,” She half laughs, half sighs, when the machine is done noisily eating the contract. “Intelligence is gonna have a fit.”

Three weeks later, after lengthy meetings, mountains of confidentiality papers that needed signed, goodbyes to the people who he’s fought beside for years, and a last-minute phone call, Leon finds himself driving down a lesser traveled road between impossibly green hills. It’s just turning to spring, but he hadn’t thought it possible for the distant mountains to look so alive already.

Lucie hasn’t enjoyed the car ride one bit, but he thinks she’s a bit calmer since they crossed the border into California. He’s let her out to stretch her legs, wandering in circles around his items in the back of the car.

Leon cracks the window and the air coming in is fresh; a far-cry from the slightly smoggy air of the city. The midday sunlight is bright and warm. He turns the knob of his radio a little higher as they pass by a faded sign on the open road.

Stardew Valley: 5 miles.

#Submission #Leon Kennedy #Resident Evil #submission

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necroarchived · 8 years ago

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really LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES. repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck ! TAGGED. I think I stole it, I don’t remember. TAGGING. I think everyone has already done this? If not, do it and blame me.

BASICS.

FULL NAME : Arthas Menethil. NICKNAMES : Karkut, maybe? TITLES : Lich King, God of Death, Master of Icecrown, Dark Lord of the Dead, Lord of the Damned, Prince of Darkness, Fallen King, Master of the Scourge, Master of Northrend. AGE : 40 as of Legion. BIRTHDAY : July 3. ETHNIC GROUP : Undead, formerly human of Lordaeron. NATIONALITY : Undead Scourge. LANGUAGE / S : Common. Thalassian. Dwarven. The Language of Death. Vrykul. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Asexual; in life, he identified as heterosexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Aromantic; in life, identified as heteroromantic. RELATIONSHIP STATUS : ??? with Jaina Proudmoore. HOME TOWN / AREA : Capital City, Lordaeron. CURRENT HOME : Icecrown Citadel, Icecrown, Northrend PROFESSION : Lich King of the Scourge, Master of Northrend.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : Snow-white hair that hangs past his shoulders, a bit scraggly, but otherwise surprisingly well-kept despite him being a literal zombie. EYES : Lichfire blue. Beneath the glow and eerie smoke they emit, one may see white pupils surrounded by icy blue irises, with only a slightly darker ring of blue separating them from equally-pale sclerae. FACE : He has one. LIPS : He... has them? They’re kinda full, I think. I dunno. COMPLEXION : Undeath has left the fallen prince with a sallow, unhealthy pallor. Dark circles hang under his eyes, as though he suffers from extreme exhaustion. All in all, Arthas would possess a generally drained, depleted look, were it not for how alert and animated he truly is. BLEMISHES : He’s dead. SCARS : Due to his lifestyle and history, Arthas has acquired a number of scars from various battle wounds, such as a burn along his right forearm from Searinox and a circular indention in his shoulder from one of Sylvanas’ arrows. Perhaps his largest and most notable scar would be the one on his chest, gained from when he tore out his own heart. TATTOOS : None. HEIGHT : 6′11″. 2.108 m. WEIGHT : He is not light. BUILD : Mesomorphic as hell, with broad shoulders, considerable muscle mass, and other... mesomorphic... stuff. FEATURES : Arthas finds himself in possession of exceptionally distinguished features, as befitting one of his royal heritage, though the corruption of undeath has twisted them, turned his golden beauty dark and cold. High cheekbones sweep across his face, seeming even higher and sharper than they ought to due to how gaunt he is. The strong jaw and straight nose that had been handsome in life now make him seem implacable, ruthless. Which, to be fair, he is. ALLERGIES : Light, love, not being an asshole. USUAL HAIR STYLE : Long and unadorned. USUAL FACE LOOK : He’s usually wearing a giant bucket on his head, mate. But under the bucket, he’s often sporting the ghost of a smirk, as though all the pain and suffering around him is just so terribly amusing - and his enemies’ belief that they can defeat him, the most amusing thing of all. USUAL CLOTHING : The dread Plate of the Damned, coupled with a dark, tattered cloak and the Helm of Domination.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : Permanent death. ASPIRATION / S : World domination. Vengeance. Possibly universal domination, but that’s kind of out of his capabilities at the moment. POSITIVE TRAITS : Clever, intelligent, witty, strategic, good leader. NEGATIVE TRAITS : Murderous, tyrannical, sadistic, literally heartless, cruel, vengeful, impulsive, manipulative, irreverent, treacherous, deceitful, misanthropic, mean, wrathful. Monologues. MBTI : ENTJ-A (although I feel he’s more P than J) ZODIAC : Cancer. TEMPEREMENT : Choleric. SOUL TYPE / S : Hunter/Leader. ANIMALS : Lion. VICE HABIT / S : He murders people all the fucking time. FAITH : He thinks he himself is a god. GHOSTS ? : Yes. AFTERLIFE ? : Yes. REINCARNATION ? : Yes. ALIENS ? : Yes POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : Undead Scourge. EDUCATION LEVEL : Arthas is highly educated, as befitting the Crown Prince of a prosperous nation. He is well-versed in matters of governance, warfare, history, law, politics, languages, cultures, and any other matters which might be considered important for the future ruler of Lordaeron. He is also trained in various martial arts and in the ways of the paladins of the Order of the Silver Hand.

FAMILY.

FATHER : Terenas Menethil MOTHER : Lianna Menethil SIBLINGS : Calia Menethil CHILDREN : Zoen Mith EXTENDED FAMILY : Aura Menethil (niece), Anduin Wrynn (godson) NAME MEANING / S : I don’t know, man, go ask Blizzard. HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : He has some parallels with King Arthur, apparently.

FAVORITES.

BOOK : Decree of the Scourge. MOVIE : n/a 5 SONGS : “Seven Devils” ; “In the Dark of the Night” ; “Orb of Winter” ; “Emperor’s New Clothes” ; “When You’re Evil” DEITY : Himself. HOLIDAY : None. MONTH : December. SEASON : Winter. PLACE : Icecrown. WEATHER : Raging blizzard. SOUND : Screams of anguish. The lonely echo of a single voice in a large hall. Heavy footsteps on stone. The crunch of bone. SCENT / S : Blood spilled on the snow; the harsh, clean scent of true winter, that kind of death. TASTE / S : The Plague of Undeath. Blood, both fresh from the vein and dried on a blade. The ashes of a pyre. FEEL / S : Metal armor, dented from battle and etched with runes. The sheer wall of a glacier. A handful of snow. Rotting flesh dripping from the bone. ANIMAL / S : While Arthas used to be fond of animals in general, he now regards them with a level of indifferent disdain. The ghost of that fondness would be extended to animals that have been corrupted by undeath. (Invincible of course being favored above all.) NUMBER : n/a. COLORS : Black, white, blue, purple, gray.

EXTRA.

TALENTS : Murder, chess, playing the guitar, swordsmanship, necromancy, kingship, snapping, whistling, singing. BAD AT : Feelings, being a decent person, Hearthstone, naval warfare, cooking, dancing. TURN ONS : uh. TURN OFFS : uh. HOBBIES : Wandering around judging people and being a general dick to everyone. Committing murder and discovering new and increasingly horrifying necromantic magics. TROPES : He has his own tropes page. He has a few tropes pages, actually! QUOTES : “Frostmourne hungers.” ; “All that I am: anger, cruelty, vengeance, I bestow upon you, my chosen knight.” ; “No. No we. No one tells me what to do. I’ve got everything I need from you—now the power is mine and mine alone. Now there is only I. I am the Lich King. And I am ready.”

FC INFO.

MAIN FC / S : Alexander Skarsgard. ALT FC / S : Uhhh, himself? I tried Heath Ledger for like a day before realizing he was too baby-faced. So if any of y’all got faceclaim suggests - *finger bangs at you.* OLDER FC / S : n/a. YOUNGER FC / S : n/a. VOICE CLAIM / S : Himself. GENDERBENT FC / S : n/a.

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ?

SCREW YOU, WARCRAFT II MOVIE, WE’RE GOING STRAIGHT TO WARCRAFT III AND IT’S GOING TO BE GREAT, IT’S GOING TO BE FANTASTIC. THE CRITICS ARE GOING TO WATCH IT AND THEY’LL CRY AT THE GLORY AND THEY’LL EAT THEIR OWN SOCKS, DO YOU HEAR ME?! THEIR OWN SOCKS.

And while the live-action of the Warcraft movie was gorgeous, I think everyone’s been clamoring for an animated film of Blizzard cinematic quality, which I wholly agree with and in a perfect world, the Warcraft III movie would be in that format.

Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ?

I have no idea, but Arthas, My Son and Invincible would be on the track.

Q3 : why did you start writing this character ?

I’d rather not answer that.

Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ?

I don’t even know, man, I don’t even know. I used to think he was the dumbest character ever because “Lich King” didn’t register as something frightening in my head. (In my defense, I was like ten.) Now look at me. Look at me.

More seriously, I think part of it is because making and playing a death knight was a huge thing for me when it happened. I’m a terrible leveler, so my main character at the time (a hunter) was only like... level 20. My mom, who’s the better player between the two of us, and with whom I shared an account until like... MoP, I think, had a level 60 warlock, and she let me have the “one per server” death knight so I could player higher content, too. That death knight was the first character I ever leveled up all the way, and

And then the Wrathgate happened, and suddenly I gave a damn about lore, and then a family friend gave me access to Warcraft III, and I’ve been in love with Arthas ever since.

Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

As a character, he’s one of the best I’ve ever come across. As a person, he’s an evil dirtbag who murdered and slaughtered THOUSANDS of innocent people because a goddamn SWORD TOLD HIM TO, WHAT THE FUCK, ARTHAS -

Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ?

I too take really long naps, prefer the cold to the heat, am a bit impulsive, and don’t know when to keep my mouth shut.

Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ?

Dude I gave him a kid and won’t let him kill people indiscriminately, he’d fuckin’ murder me if he had the chance.

Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?

So many. My main shout outs would have to be to @warmcngerer, @renuntiatum, @thesealovesme, @heavenly-grievance, @theplaguelord, and @crownofstormwind. With them, I’ve been able to play around with fascinating facets of Arthas’ personality, whether through threads, through plotting, or through talking about the relationships with the muns. (All of whom are wonderful, and should definitely be followed ASAP.)

Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ?

Hearing his voice, interacting with the Scourge, forcing myself to sit down and write.

Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ?

It’s been in my drafts for literal months.

#oh my god this took forever #long post #//#m. secrets of the monarchy. headcanons.#r. kill them all and you're a god. arthas menethil.#ooc. shipments of grain. memes and prompts.

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tikilimawmaw · 8 years ago

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BRB

On the rare occasions that I care about my news feed, some things actually get my attention, aside from cute puppy gifs and stupid political fanaticism like wtf. Anyway, a “friend” shared this blog post about UPLB--my dear UPLB--and how uh-mazing that place is. I mean, I get it; it is a mystical, magical university (but not in a Hogwarts way) and, well, who could resist writing about, or instagramming it?

I apologize. I’m just at this point in my college life where I see everything under gray clouds, and I don’t mean the silvery kind. I mean dark, nimbus, let’s-do-relief-operations-after-this-storm, gray clouds. I hate that place, but every Monday when I return to the apartment there I’m always looking forward to walking the streets of Elbi. It’s weird.

Anyway, what I’m about to do is kind of a parallel narration according to the places described by the author/blogger. It’ll be a whiny, age-inappropriate sulking about how bad I feel in that wonderful place, but hey, I don’t know how to properly feel anymore. I need to do this.

(1 Baker Hall) The only fun I had in Baker Hall was Elbikon. Seriously. For one thing, the interior is very old--wooden steps, dramatic windows. Nothing wrong there; someone’s doing a splendid job on preservation (except that the temperature rises over unbearable degrees). Here’s the problem: the string ensemble of UPLB practices there. I hear violins, and I hate that. I hate missing the violin. It’s a piece of me that just doesn’t fit perfectly anymore when I try to get my shit together again. I mean, it fits, but not exact-o.

(2 Carillon Tower) For four years I’d lived in the same dormitory and every time I needed a jeepney ride, I pass by the Carillon Tower. It’s peaceful there; I hang around on my own and no one disturbs me because everyone else is too busy cuddling with his/her SO. It’s too peaceful actually, that all I could think about is that a pool of blood is too obvious at the foot of the tower. Besides, the gates are locked. No potential here.

Backspace. BACKSPACE.

(3 Student Union Building) Sigh. SU. Where do I even begin? Oh, wait, I need to get a number before I begin. Approximately 56 minutes before I get called. LIES! It’s like all you want to do there is rush in, get things done, rush out. But you can’t. Because you’re queued. The bathrooms are okay, I guess. I thought that SU was supposed to symbolize the university embracing the student, making them feel welcomed and that they are free to do whatever hell they want (bleargh). That’s funny, because I feel more welcomed by the river behind it.

(4 Trees) I have this theory that the trees in UPLB are majestically large because they feed upon the souls and hopes and dreams of thousands and thousands of students, on-time and delayed, every semester. This may be only in my head, but I honestly feel like my energy is always drained when I’m there. Maybe that’s why Thursday is drinking day: so students can at least carry on through Friday and the weekends without feeling like shit. Me? I drink Mondays. And Tuesdays. And We--

(5 DL Umali) I don’t think I’ll ever walk the stage of DL Umali with pride and confidence ever again. I used to be a student achiever: college scholar and honor roll, promising GWA. I shake hands with the dean; I get a certificate. Now, I’m just a probationary student with nine failed units and one INC that all happened in one epic semester. Epic fail, that is.

That’s not all. Our org holds our annual exhibit in the gallery at the basement. And I haven’t had any WIPs for a year. I can’t stress enough how I lost my will to draw. Recently, art has only been a way to calm me down. That’s great, right? At least I still have it. God.

(6 Nihon Koen) I think I’ll be seeing this torii regularly starting Tuesday. It’s a fun way to travel down from the UHS, where the psych is in TTh 2-5 pm.

UPLB Tip #562: There are desperate pervs in pretty decent bathrooms. DO NOT give in to the temptation no matter how much of your life you’ve given up, because you can get sick. Or pregnant. Or worst, videoed. Besides, his dick was tiny.

(7 Thai Pavillion) Hang around this exotic gazebo every afternoon before dusk if you want to ogle at fit people stretching, and jogging, and basically all other things you don’t have the energy for, a.k.a taking care of your body. Plus, they have dogs. Dogs are one of the reasons I don’t let go.

(8 Freedom Park) Again, a haven for healthy people: F-park. Fit park. Food park. Fuck park. Whatever you wish: it’s Freedom Park. Here’s a tip: unless you’re a Jesus person, don’t sit on the benches alone. Or at least have the guts to say “no, I don’t wanna hear about the five things that I need to know to be saved.” And besides, sitting alone on a bench in front of a lot of parked cars for a few hours is creepy. There was this one time I thought this old guy in his car was actually watching me. I could take the attention but that just sounds really slutty. Try sitting at the grandstand instead.

(9 Mariang Banga) It doesn’t matter what religion or cult you belong in: Mariang Banga is real. Ask permission before picking a flower, apologize for stepping on grass, always appreciate the weather no matter how insufferable it is, because she has power over this land, you mortal. (I still think she cursed me with a hole for a heart and a jelly for a brain.)

(10 Palma Bridge) There was a time in my early college years when Palma Bridge was called Sperm Bridge but I won’t give any hints. Get it? Hint? Like, odor? No? How about “call of the void”? “High place phenomenon”? Urge to jump? Still no? Good.

(11 Molawin Creek) This river is the same river I was talking about. It actually runs pretty far. In one of my stupid adventures pre destructive semesters, I tried to discover what was behind my then-dormitory. You guessed it: a forest. Hah okay, the river comes after it. There was this spot that I liked--clear and cold water, decently dry rocks, some shade, no one else around. Bathing naked was fun. But on my next adventure, I got lost, so uh-uh I’m not going back. Or will I? (I conclude that these adventures comprise a death wish.)

(12 Park behind humanities) Behind CAS Building is this construction where we get rubble from. And the mound of gravel that was never removed served as another seat for our tambayan, where I always feel so awkward.

(13 NCAS) One question: how the hell can I get on the NCAS rooftop? Ideation aside, a top view of O-park would be nice.

(14 Office of the University Registrar) Soon enough, the registrar will not include me in the list of officially enrolled students because ma’am, I am tired. I need a break. And probably my TOR.

(15 Hum/CAS) Pretend to be a younger batch if you look the part. I always do. It gives the illusion that I’m still full of hopes and dreams, and it’s a good excuse for asking about things that I should know. The three CAS buildings and Physci are the good places to do it. And Copeland gym.

(16 Two roads diverged by O-park) Lots of walks to clear the mind // Beware acquaintances, tell them you’re fine. // Groups of friends walking, pretty intimidating // Cross the road, the other side is empty: your thing.

(17 Gamma SIgma) Yeah, well I always thought it was a shade for the CSB. Sorrynotsorry.

(18 Heritage Tower) My happy memories include playing UNO with my friends under the Kwek-kwek tower and reading the ridiculous vandals like “Jherehmie luv Ehllah 4rvr 24″. I have nothing against Jherehmie and Ehllah, but come on, that tower was [awfully] repainted. I miss the times when I don’t suddenly stop and stare at nothing while I play UNO or sing karaoke with my friends. It’s awkward; I catch myself doing it. Nope. Nope.

UPLB Tip #847: It never hurts to be observant. Get really observant until you’re almost being a stalker. But not really. There are always patterns for everything, and you just really need to be good at knowing them. For example, your crush. Your crush has a schedule; on TTh he walks out of this building at this hour, on WF he enters another. Where does he live? Which jeepney does he usually ride, kanan or kaliwa? Observation, not stalking.

(19 UPLB Gate) I’ll be back, I promise.

(20 CEM...thingy) Forget that weird piece of artsy nonsense, that buried building at the back with the swastika is the mystery. I never bothered to know the history, but hey, it’s dark, wet and eerie--must be zombies.

(21 Raymundo) I always dub this as “not my turf”. Since I’m not familiar with it, I also have adventures here (just to be clear, adventure meant walking and exploring, nothing else). I’ll miss rolling under the gate after curfew and deciding where to eat (usually takes around 15 minutes).

(22 Never-ending bridge) Again, with the bridges. Look, it’s a long way down but the aesthetics are great. There’re these pretty purple (or were they blue?) flowers and a thick canopy of ferns and broad leaves. Die pretty.

UPLB Tip #1036: Don’t shut everyone out. Ever heard of “don’t burn your bridges”? Yeah, well if you’re that kind of person who possibly needs to utilize people in the future, then go. But geez is that all there is to connections, the utility? What about just having fun conversations together, and lunches and dinners? IMHO, the people you meet at your later years in college are more likely to become “colleagues” than “friends”. Unless he’s the one. Squeal.

(23 Forestry route) While the torii is my way down, this road takes me up to the psych.

(24 UPLB) I hate my house. I hate my school. I just want to be in between, in the journey. I know I’ll get to the two points at some time in my life but not now. A view from afar would be nice. “I’ll be there,” I would say, “just give me a moment to catch up.” I’ll be right back.

Welp. That was awfully long. So here’s the blog, again. Vivid pictures, beautiful words, I am nothing.

Edit: She’s on Tumblr. OH NO.

#awfully long #too much shit #duuuude #mediokerlivin #who am i even talking to

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foursprout-blog · 7 years ago

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26 Girls In Strong Relationships Gush About Cutest Thing Their Boyfriend Has Ever Done

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/26-girls-in-strong-relationships-gush-about-cutest-thing-their-boyfriend-has-ever-done-2/

26 Girls In Strong Relationships Gush About Cutest Thing Their Boyfriend Has Ever Done

Unsplash / Vitor Pinto

1. He keeps me company while I cook dinner.

“Whenever I cook us dinner, he sits on the chair in the kitchen and keeps me company instead of just watching tv or whatever.” — Satanfister0218

2. He makes sure we have time to eat together.

“He works nights and I work days. Some days he brings breakfast home to me and we will sit and eat it together before he drives me to work and then comes home to sleep. I will come home from work and make dinner for him and wake him up with it. Its a nice system we have.” — dickback_timothy

3. He tucks me into bed at night.

“Almost all nights, even though we’re both grown ass adults, he’ll tuck me into bed. I go to bed 4ish hours before him and having him tuck me in is just a super warm fuzzy for me. Every now and then, he’ll also just lay there and hold me until I fall asleep. It makes my heart so full and happy. I hope he does this forever.” — shreksnumber1fan

4. He kisses my forehead.

“Sometimes while cuddling, my boyfriend will lightly kiss the top of my head.” — Bunjora

5. He calls me beautiful, even when I look like a complete mess.

“He tells me I’m beautiful when I wake up, when I’m sick, when I look god awful he is always there staring at me with a loving smile, like I’m the most beautiful thing he has seen even though I look like a zombie from lack of sleep.” — The-Goat-Lord

6. He always holds the door open for me.

“My boyfriend always lets me go through the door first. Most of the time he holds it open for me, but sometimes I get there first and he’ll smoothly grab the door behind me and say, ‘Go ahead babe.’

When he puts his hand on my leg while he’s driving.

But my favorite is when he pulls me closer in his sleep.” — lil-legend18

7. He expresses his feelings without holding back.

“He tells me loves me and often. He’ll stop what he’s doing and kiss me. Whenever you are having nice feelings about your SO, say them/text them/whatever. Whether it’s love or compliments or physical touch.” — awkwoman

8. He spoils me during that time of the month.

“Every time I get my period he treats me with ice cream. Since my first two days of every period are really bad (because of cramps and back pain) his little routine cheers me up so much.” — recherchecr

9. He takes care of me when I’m drunk.

“One night at a party I’d had too much to drink and was passing out. I woke up in a big comfy t-shirt all tucked into bed — he’d taken off my earrings, rings, shoes, socks, everything!!” — MeanGreenLentilQueen

10. He surprises me with flowers.

“To me, it’s the little things.

He randomly calls me to tell me he loves me, expresses his feelings for me, etc. Also, he will send me long, sweet texts randomly when I am sleeping or throughout the day.

When we’re cuddling in bed and I reach over the side to grab something, he will watch me and keep his hands on my back because he doesn’t want to let go of me.

He calls me every single night we aren’t together to fall asleep on the phone with me.

He wakes me up, whether it be in person or on the phone, to kiss/tell me goodbye, I love you before he leaves for work.

If I tell him I’m craving something, he will bring it the next time I see him if not right then. Doesn’t matter how long it’s been.

He surprises me with flowers amongst other things.

We are somewhat long distance (he lives an hour away), but if I am upset, now matter how serious the matter, he will come to me.

There’s so many things he does, big and small, that make him so amazing. It’s refreshing, my ex never did so much as take me to the movies in our three years of dating. He is everything my ex wasn’t.

God, I love him.” — Iiferuiner

11. He draws a bath for me every single night.

“He instituted a time called ‘second soaks’. It is basically just him running me a bath every night so I can lay amongst the bubbles. He also snuggles me every night in his sleep, I don’t even think he is aware of it but it always makes me feel safe and comfortable.” — Applesauce28

12. He feeds me.

“He’s my husband now. So listen up guys!

While we dated, he’d show up to school with food for me (I always order the same thing and he remembered what I like from like 10 different places). After class we’d go to Sonic and get half price milkshakes and just talk for hours. He also cooked whenever I came to his house, he’d have tea to drink too.

So basically food. He fed me, so I stayed.” — ochemimmunohem

13. He acts like my best friend.

“One thing he does is makeovers and girly stuff. He knows I don’t have any girl friends or a best friend so he is my best friend as well as my boyfriend. ” — Asheswin

14. He is careful not to wake me up too early in the morning.

“Sometimes he has to get up and go to work earlier than I do.

He flops the blankets over my head so when he turns on the bedroom light to get dressed, it doesn’t wake me up.

He pulls them back down once the light is off. He turns off the box fan because he knows I like to sleep in silence. He needs the white noise of the fan to sleep, so once he’s up and out of bed he turns it off for me to continue resting.

Then he kisses me goodbye, sometimes when I wake up and get ready for work I’ll find he left me a treat on the counter to take with me, like a chocolate rice crispy bar or some pop tarts.” — MermaidAyla

15. He orders me food when I’m starving.

“He takes care of me. When I’m sick/in pain, or depressed he’ll take care of me and get me stuff when I can’t. He also orders me food.” — Keyra13

16. He warms up my cold feet.

“You know when you stick your cold feet on your SO and they squirm? When I come over and we sit on the couch together, he takes my cold feet and puts them under his thighs so he can warm my feet with his perpetual warmth… I didn’t know someone could be so kind…” — boopboopadoopity

17. He pays close attention to me when we’re together.

“He’s content with laying down next to me, just talking and being next to each other. He barely uses his phone, he deleted his social media, he said all of that was just a distraction. He said he got me now, he wants to focus on me. It’s a whole different feeling, just feeling the love even when youre just next to him.

I appreciate that so much.” — 7teen38

18. He cheers me up whenever I’m having an off day.

“If he knows I’m having a bad day and has a moment, he’ll take a break to get me flowers and/or Starbucks and drop by my work with them. I’ve even come in from field work to find surprise treats in my office.” — Saltwaterblood

19. He defrosts the car for me before I leave for work.

“My boyfriend takes my dog out in the morning and this morning he went out and then popped back in and told me to give him my keys so he could start defrosting my car for work. Then I heard him out there scraping the ice off my windshield.” — kkcshuber

20. He keeps my personal items at his place.

“When we first started dating my boyfriend surprised me with a bottle of sensitive body wash and moisturizer to use at his place.

He said he had noticed that I had sensitive products in my bathroom and used sensitive washing powder and didn’t want me to be uncomfortable when I stayed at his place.

I had never mentioned it to him, but he had just paid attention.” — kazburger

21. He opens the car door for me

“When we’re walking to his car and get close, he’ll jog up quickly and open the door for me. He knows I can do it myself, but he likes being old fashioned that way and treating me special by opening the door for me.” — NavyRoses1105

22. He comforts me when I’m feeling uneasy.

“I have a lot more tasks to complete before going to bed than he does, so when I come to bed he’s always on my side, warming it up for me, and then he slides over.

He also knows I get nervous during turbulence on airplanes, and holds my arm/hand to comfort me, without making me feel like it’s silly to be nervous.” — jerusha16

23. He surprises me with little treats.

“My husband is super sweet. He makes breakfast on the weekdays. He makes sure I am tucked in and warm in bed every night when he pushes the covers off himself if he gets warm. He loves to cuddle. He will get me little treats occasionally. Sometimes he’s squirrelly about holding my hand but I think that’s more of a game and gives in eventually.

I’m gonna keep him for a while longer. Ten years and counting.” — throwingwater14

24. He gets along well with my dog.

“The way my dog looks at him. I knew from the second my dog and now-husband met that they were soulmates and I may as well come along for the ride.” — parvoqueen

25. He plays music to help me get out of bed.

“I have a really hard time getting out of bed in the morning. My fella will give me a few chances to get up on my own, then blast a song on his phone, usually with a ‘morning’ theme. Think Good Morning Starshine, Mr Blue Sky or Chop Suey! It’s cute.” — HerSmokeRoseUp

26. He is completely and utterly accepting of me.

“Maybe it’s not really a thing he does ‘for’ me, but he is so accepting of my body and what I choose to do with it and that is such a wonderful feeling. Want to shave half my head? Fine! Wanna grow it long and dye it teal and purple? Cool. Want to get my septum pierced? Sure. Don’t wanna shave my leg fur in the cold, dark winter? Go for it. Wanna go to the gym? Yeah! Wanna eat a huge bag of peanut butter M&Ms after the gym? You bet. My fashion choices have done a complete 180 over the last five years and he has never said a bad word about it.

I look the way I do for me, and not for anyone else at all. It’s refreshing.” — juniper-mint

#Happiness

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foursprouthappiness-blog · 7 years ago

Text

26 Girls In Strong Relationships Gush About Cutest Thing Their Boyfriend Has Ever Done

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/26-girls-in-strong-relationships-gush-about-cutest-thing-their-boyfriend-has-ever-done/

26 Girls In Strong Relationships Gush About Cutest Thing Their Boyfriend Has Ever Done

Unsplash / Vitor Pinto

1. He keeps me company while I cook dinner.

“Whenever I cook us dinner, he sits on the chair in the kitchen and keeps me company instead of just watching tv or whatever.” — Satanfister0218

2. He makes sure we have time to eat together.

3. He tucks me into bed at night.

4. He kisses my forehead.

“Sometimes while cuddling, my boyfriend will lightly kiss the top of my head.” — Bunjora

5. He calls me beautiful, even when I look like a complete mess.

6. He always holds the door open for me.

When he puts his hand on my leg while he’s driving.

But my favorite is when he pulls me closer in his sleep.” — lil-legend18

7. He expresses his feelings without holding back.

8. He spoils me during that time of the month.

9. He takes care of me when I’m drunk.

10. He surprises me with flowers.

“To me, it’s the little things.

He randomly calls me to tell me he loves me, expresses his feelings for me, etc. Also, he will send me long, sweet texts randomly when I am sleeping or throughout the day.

When we’re cuddling in bed and I reach over the side to grab something, he will watch me and keep his hands on my back because he doesn’t want to let go of me.

He calls me every single night we aren’t together to fall asleep on the phone with me.

He wakes me up, whether it be in person or on the phone, to kiss/tell me goodbye, I love you before he leaves for work.

If I tell him I’m craving something, he will bring it the next time I see him if not right then. Doesn’t matter how long it’s been.

He surprises me with flowers amongst other things.

We are somewhat long distance (he lives an hour away), but if I am upset, now matter how serious the matter, he will come to me.

God, I love him.” — Iiferuiner

11. He draws a bath for me every single night.

12. He feeds me.

“He’s my husband now. So listen up guys!

So basically food. He fed me, so I stayed.” — ochemimmunohem

13. He acts like my best friend.

“One thing he does is makeovers and girly stuff. He knows I don’t have any girl friends or a best friend so he is my best friend as well as my boyfriend. ” — Asheswin

14. He is careful not to wake me up too early in the morning.

“Sometimes he has to get up and go to work earlier than I do.

He flops the blankets over my head so when he turns on the bedroom light to get dressed, it doesn’t wake me up.

15. He orders me food when I’m starving.

“He takes care of me. When I’m sick/in pain, or depressed he’ll take care of me and get me stuff when I can’t. He also orders me food.” — Keyra13

16. He warms up my cold feet.

17. He pays close attention to me when we’re together.

I appreciate that so much.” — 7teen38

18. He cheers me up whenever I’m having an off day.

19. He defrosts the car for me before I leave for work.

20. He keeps my personal items at his place.

“When we first started dating my boyfriend surprised me with a bottle of sensitive body wash and moisturizer to use at his place.

He said he had noticed that I had sensitive products in my bathroom and used sensitive washing powder and didn’t want me to be uncomfortable when I stayed at his place.

I had never mentioned it to him, but he had just paid attention.” — kazburger

21. He opens the car door for me

22. He comforts me when I’m feeling uneasy.

“I have a lot more tasks to complete before going to bed than he does, so when I come to bed he’s always on my side, warming it up for me, and then he slides over.

He also knows I get nervous during turbulence on airplanes, and holds my arm/hand to comfort me, without making me feel like it’s silly to be nervous.” — jerusha16

23. He surprises me with little treats.

I’m gonna keep him for a while longer. Ten years and counting.” — throwingwater14

24. He gets along well with my dog.

“The way my dog looks at him. I knew from the second my dog and now-husband met that they were soulmates and I may as well come along for the ride.” — parvoqueen

25. He plays music to help me get out of bed.

26. He is completely and utterly accepting of me.

I look the way I do for me, and not for anyone else at all. It’s refreshing.” — juniper-mint

#Happiness

0 notes