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zeroducks-2 · 3 days

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Do you really think reverse flash is in love with Barry? I don't mean for this to sound snarky I'm just confused. Thawne killed Barry's mom how can you say he's in love with him? I like all the things you post and rb about them I really enjoy the ship. I just don't get it can you explain?

The question "how can Eobard be in love with Barry if he hurt him" has both a short answer and a long answer. The short answer is that people are very much capable of hurting the ones they love, on purpose or by accident.

The long answer is that Eobard is a deeply disturbed individual who has never been the recipient of love, and because of that and of many extremely traumatic events (including but not limited to being brainwashed in prison, being trapped in a timeless limbo alone for years, being tortured and treated like cattle and put in sensory deprivation for ludicrous amounts of time, dying at the hands of the only person who had ever shown compassion towards him), he has a skewed perception of a lot of things and is extremely bad at emotional regulation.

Moreover, and this is something which is easy to overlook but it's actually very important, Eobard is not human. His actions are informed by his traumas, but the way he approaches pretty much everything (including his "problems" with Barry) isn't done the way a human would.

Eobard is a timeless, deathless creature which embodies one of the driving forces of reality itself (the Negative Speed Force). He lived probably more than a few hundred years considering how he keeps running around through time doing stuff, and how he keeps going back to watch past events and adjust the way he will interact with the timeline next.

He knows the huge impact that killing Nora will have on Barry, but from a moral and ethical standpoint it's not a big deal for him. Nora is less than a speck in time, an NPC who served her role for that briefest moment in which she existed. She is a big deal because she is a big deal for Barry, not because she's meaningful in any other way.

"But then he did want to hurt Barry when he killed her" Yes, absolutely he wanted to. Eobard didn't "just" kill Nora Allen - he went back in time and changed everything about Barry's life, made it so he had no friends, made him grow isolated and insecure and shy, lacking confident in his abilities. And he did it because he is very, VERY angry with Barry for one, and also because isolating Barry makes it easier for them to grow closer.

And it worked! Back in the Silver Age, when Nora and Henry were alive and not in prison, Barry couldn't be bothered with Eobard. For him Eo was just a random criminal with superspeed, and sure he was threatening because speedsters always are, but not that much of a big deal.

Now? Now Eobard is a primary element in Barry's life, a constant he's had to deal with basically since birth, someone who rewritten his entire life to make himself part of it in an indelible manner.

It worked because now Barry is more likely to fall for Eobard's manipulation, to listen to him, to just accept that he's THERE because he's always been. Near the end of Running Scared, Eobard tells him "run away with me", and Barry says yes.

Back in the Silver Age there would have been no way.

It's worth mentioning that to understand Eobard, you need to understand that everything he does, every single thing, has the end goal of being with Barry. Whether he's trying to protect him or trying to hurt him or trying to manipulate him, whether they manage to work together against a common enemy or they're on opposite sides of the fight, every single one of Eobard's actions is motivated by love (his personal, inhuman version of love).

"But if that is the case, then why doesn't he just tell Barry 'I love you'?"

Two reasons, and one is meta.

The in-story reason is that every time Eobard tried to do something good without masking it as horrible, it went sideways and backfired spectacularly - mix that with poor emotional regulation, and you have someone who's not going to be able to handle rejection and is outright scared of doing good things openly. I think if he told Barry "I love you" and Barry reacted badly it would hurt too much. Also he wants Barry to understand, and thanks to a couple of competent writers who sadly don't work on Flash anymore, we were getting there.

The meta reason is because DC is homophobic, plain and simple. Eobard DID SAY I love you many times except with words, because DC editorials won't let him. That's it. It's the same reason why Joker can't tell Batman "I love you" and has to do weird ass word plays and even more weird ass attention seeking maneuvers. They're stunted by reasons which no one but DC itself can control.

So in short. How can Eobard be in love with Barry and hurt him so much at the same time? Because he doesn't have many ways of express love, he has a hard time being caring, and every time he allows himself to be soft it backfires. Because he wants Barry to belong to him and will isolate him and make him suffer to get there. Because he's angry with Barry -- Barry hurt him too, rejected him and left him alone and refused to accept that Eobard is his lightning rod for a long time.

Eobard easily lashes out when he's hurt, and the less grounded he is the more vicious and violent he turns.

"But Zero, how can Eobard think that Barry will ever forgive him for having killed his mom?"

I don't believe Eobard was ever looking for forgiveness, but fun fact. Barry did forgive him already. Barry is not human either, and at this point I think he'd forgive Eobard just about anything, and despite how difficult everything is between them, he really wants to get to a place where they don't need to hurt each other.

The problem with this, and it's one of the reasons why they have so many issues communicating, is that Barry is in denial about many things - about being the Speed Force, about Eobard being in love with him, about how they're two constants through time and two sides of the same coin and basically can't exist without each other, about how they're each other's lightning rod.

Their relationship is very complex, absolutely not what it looks like at first glance, and it's colored by all the hurt there is between them. But again, ultimately understanding Eobard is understanding that love is what motivates him, even when he does the most horrible unhinged things.

In conclusion, have this panel from The Flash Age which is one of my favorite Flash comics, in which you can see the way these two manage to trust each other and fall into the right rhythm, despite the oceans of misunderstandings and suffering between them.

Pages from The Flash Age, by Joshua Williamson. In which Barry tells Eobard to "do the right thing", and Eobard just does it.

#thanks for asking anon #you didn't sound snarky at all no worries #I tried to be as exhaustive as possible without writing a wall of text #idk how well I managed #I just know I could talk about these two forever #my asks #eobarry #barry allen #eobard thawne #my meta

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thebestpumkin · 3 days

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- title - happy birthday, chuuya!

- pairing - chuuya nakahara x reader

- character(s) mentioned - ogai mori

- word count - 566

- summary - celebrating your totally whipped boyfriend's birthday with him.

- tw - i'm pushing my soft chuuya agenda sorry, established relationship, alcohol mention, chuuya gets drunk and passes out, lmk if there are any to add!

- a/n at the bottom!

Chuuya doesn't think he's ever felt quite so normal.

Human, even.

It's a wonder that all it took for him to feel this way is walking hand-in-hand with you, on your way home.

He thinks he likes that word. Home. It rolls off your tongue so easily as you pay the bill - despite his protests - "Let's go home, yeah?" And he's gotten used to it. He thinks he already found his home, in you - as corny as it sounds.

Nevertheless, he's taking you back to his place to celebrate, pressed to your side and babbling on meaninglessly about something or other concerning some new show he saw. And yet you're looking at him with so much love and adoration in your eyes, as if he hung every star up in the sky, as if what he's saying is something worth listening to.

He lets you into his lavish penthouse and watches as you sit down. You sit so comfortably on his couch, as if it was your own, as if this whole place was yours, too. In a way, it is, he thinks. You own his heart, why not everything else he has to his name? He brings out a bottle of wine and two glasses while you turn on the TV.

He's not sure when or how, but he ended up asleep in your arms while you were entirely focused on whatever show you'd put on his flatscreen. He'd likely gotten drunk, he realizes, looking out at the dark sky through his floor-to-ceiling windows. You didn't mind, having had to take care of him when he was off his ass more times than you could count on your fingers. He loved you for that.

He tries to stay up after that, boiling some gas station ramen he had stashed away. He spends the rest of the night slurping noodles with you while you try to catch him up on everything he missed while taking a nap - who knew a show could spring so much information on its audience within a couple episodes?

He keeps stealing glances at you and your attractive face. It's a wonder you've stayed with him, he thinks. A wonder that you love him just as much as he loves you. His breath hitches. You're beautiful. He knows that, already. But, for some reason, seeing your face lit up with the light of the screen and your eyes completely focused on the show he's given up on trying to understand...he leans forward and captures your lips in his. He doesn't know what else to do when you look like that. He loves you, so, so much.

And he spends his birthday that way - and he wouldn't have it any other way. He doesn't care what he does for his next birthday, as long as you're by his side. And, really, that applies to every single day. He couldn't care less if he had mountains of paperwork that Mori assigns to him, as long as you're there to encourage him. He wouldn't mind it if he had to go into a fight, as long as he could come home to you so you could kiss his hurting away. Everything would be okay as long as you were there at his side. He'll spend all his birthdays with you, hoping you'll love him even when he's gray and old, just because...it's you.

pumkin speaks: yeah, okay, i totally didn't write something for inosuke's birthday a few days ago, sue me. BUT i think i deserve a pat on the back for this one. this is that chuuya piece that i said i had the pretty sounding beginning for but no idea where to go from there, iykyk. i finished tokyo revengers btw! oh, and i'm watching wind breaker, too - i'm all caught up w it. and i'm on ep 7 of banana fish due to peer pressure from friends...ps wtf is that show its so...wow. anyway! thats all ive got, i think. sorry for continuing to push the soft chuuya agenda. i just cant imagine him being any other way if he were in love 😕😕 okay that's all. bye, happy scrolling!

likes, reblogs, requests, and feedback are vv appreciated! divider credits go to r0se-designs. thanks for reading, have a nice day!

#pumkin writes #x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader

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teejaystumbles · 1 day

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Against all odds (part 8)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7

(Whenever I put this on AO3 it will probably be all one chapter and the longest single chapter fic I've ever written lol) (continues straight after Part 7)

Shame the stranger won’t want to visit the White Horse again any time soon, he thinks as he changes into his sleep clothes. It’s still a decent pub even if Hob heard when he last visited that they want to tear the place down for new buildings. It’s a shame, truly. Hob likes the old Inn. It’s one of the few constants in his life, the most important right after his stranger.

He lies down with a sigh and stares at the ceiling, trying to recall how the place has changed through time. He falls asleep before he can reach the 15th century.

Hob dreams again of the White Horse. It is 1389 and he is sitting and drinking with his mates of old, joking about Death being stupid.

A man clad all in black with a face as white as the moon steps silently up to their table. Hob’s mates ask him who he is but the man stays silent and doesn’t acknowledge them, his pitch-black eyes fixed on Hob. Hob stares. He knows him. Would know him anywhere. This is his friend, who he’s been waiting for for a very, very long time.

He ignores the others and they fade into obscurity. He says, awe and wonder clear in his voice and face, “You came.”

“We have an appointment, Hob Gadling. Of course I came.”

“But you didn’t- you didn’t want to meet…here. Any more. Am I wrong?” Hob feels confused. He knows what he’s saying is right, but it doesn’t make any sense, here and now where he has never met this man before. The stranger inclines his head.

“In your dreams I do not feel hesitant to visit this place. It is yours, and therefore a pleasant space to be in.”

Hob frowns.

“Mine? This is your place, my friend. Our place.”

“No. This is your dream of the White Horse Inn, Hob, and every human’s who has lived and visited it. But yours especially. It is not mine,” his friend says almost wistfully, “Neither here, nor in the Waking.”

“Then I'll find us a new place, or I'll build one!” Hob exclaims and jumps up. “A new Inn. One where you'll feel comfortable, a bright place, with a garden and a tree out front and sunny spots to sit and talk, or be quiet. Somewhere that is ours, yours and mine.”

“You would? For me?”

“Aye. I would do anything for you, my friend. My lord.”

Hob tastes the unfamiliar title on his tongue, repeats it again and finds it to feel perfectly right for his stranger, especially when he sees the sparkle in the man's eyes at being addressed as such. “My lord…” The words Hob knows he had been tempted to say on this day in 1389 roll out of him like a rushing river he cannot stop-

“I’d swear fealty to you, if you’d accept it, and call you my liege. My king,” and he sinks to one knee before the one who rules him.

Dream gasps as Hob’s words hit him with the force of a wave crashing into him. He vibrates with ambiguous emotion as Hob smoothly sinks to one knee before him, brown doe eyes looking up at Dream with pure honesty and - love. It’s clearly love that’s shining out of Hob’s eyes and Dream feels the flames at his mantle’s hem lick higher and higher.

What is this human doing, offering him first his blood and now his fealty?

“Oh. Hob,” he rasps, aghast. He doesn’t know what to say. He accepted the first offering. Would it be wise to decline the second? There is magic in the number Three, if he is not careful this will turn into a dangerous affair indeed. If this continues Hob Gadling could be bound to him forever. Excitement rushes through him at the thought.

His.

Someone who'd willingly be Dream’s!

He cannot do this. He mustn’t. Hob may love him, or a version of him he thinks he knows, but Hob is someone who needs to be his own man. Dream cannot imagine him as a vassal, a servant, of anybody, least of all Dream’s.

He takes a step closer and puts a hand on Hob’s head. The man gazes hopefully up at him, a smile on his face. Dream feels his chest tighten.

“You honour me, old friend. Yet I would not rob you of your freedom. You are, and should always be, your own lord and master, subservient to none. I do not wish to be your king.”

Hob’s face falls for a moment and Dream prepares himself for Hob’s disappointment. Then the man at his feet suddenly smiles again and grabs Dream’s hand, cradling it gently before laying a kiss on it.

“Shame. I think it’s too late for you to refuse, my lord, as I have already made my choice. You need not acknowledge me as yours, I will still fight for you and defend you if you are in need. If not a servant, then I am your loyal ally, and I will still offer you anything that is mine.”

Dream shivers and gapes at Hob, who winks cheekily at him and kisses Dream’s hand again. Hastily Dream takes a step back and cradles his hand against his chest.

“You do not know what you promise, Hob. You have to be careful-”

“Careful? Hah!” Hob barks a laugh and gets up from the floor. He claps Dream on the shoulder as if they’ve always been in the habit of touching each other so casually and Dream flinches, stunned.

“Sorry to say this, old friend, but when it comes to you I have never been very careful. Don’t think I can start now.”

Hob shrugs and turns to the table to grab a tankard of ale and a glass of red wine, strangely modern in the mediaeval surroundings of the old tavern, and thrusts it into Dream’s hand. Then Hob toasts him with another wink.

“To our long and lasting friendship, my lord. My friend.”

Dream, perplexed, raises his glass in turn and they both drink. Hob grins happily at him and Dream feels his cheeks flush. He vanishes the wine with a frustrated gesture. Leave it to Hob Gadling to stump him and make him accept a second gift despite himself. He needs to think about this.

He murmurs, “This dream is over,” and leaves Hob to his sleep.

Hob wakes up with the feeling of having dreamt something nice, but he can't remember more than that he was in the old White Horse. Snatches of a conversation, of making a toast, come back to him, but he doesn't know who he was even talking to. No matter. It's still better than no dreams at all. He feels much more rested after sleeping since the dreams returned. Seems like his brain is very grateful.

He gets up and throws a glance over at his desk. The journal is gone. Hob blinks. Then he grins and goes to get ready for his day.

His stranger has taken the book! Now it’s just waiting for him to return it. Oh, and come up with a new place to meet, he supposes, while he shaves and slicks his hair back for another day at the agency. Hob sighs. He really needs to get another life. He’s sick and tired of his job and this look. He likes his flat but now that his stranger and him have a new way to communicate, and his friend has no interest in entering the White Horse any time soon, maybe Hob can just up and move to another town for a bit.

He finishes his routine and goes to put the kettle on. He hasn’t taken a holiday in a while. Maybe it’s time for a break at least, if not a reinvention of Hob Gadling. He can come up with what to do next and focus on his stranger. He seems to desperately need the company of a friend, even if he won’t say it outright, and Hob wants to be that friend.

After breakfast Hob drives to work to finish up some business before he calls in some time off for a family emergency. ‘Against all odds’ plays on the radio and Hob sighs. He listens for a while as his Porsche crawls through London traffic, humiliated by the memory of putting these lyrics down to express his feelings in that first journal entry addressed to his friend. He switches stations and lands on the other extreme - Kylie’s ‘I should be so lucky’ cheerfully hits him right in the heart again. “It's a crazy situation, You always keep me waiting, Because it's only make believe, And I would come a-running, To give you all my loving, If one day, you would notice me-” “Christ,” Hob growls and turns the radio off. Just one more day. He just needs to keep his head for a few more hours, finish off some editing, talk to his bosses and then he’ll be free to wallow and pine for as long as he wants. “Get it together, Gadling,” he hisses at himself and changes gears as the light turns finally green. It’s not like his stranger is not talking to him. He’s back. Everything’s fine. Better than fine, even. He shouldn’t be hung up about things that will never change, he should focus on all the positive developments. His friend wants to meet him again, so Hob should focus on figuring out where they could meet. A park would probably be best, he thinks.

#dreamling #1989 au #the sandman fanfiction #teejay writes

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izzydaninja · 2 days

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Sonic with baby Shadow! Finally writing something for this!! Also still trying to think of title ideas.. (Might keep a funny one I thought of).

Chaotic Reaction - Part 1: A Little Stuck

Hands cupped around a small, fragile package as he keeps it close to his chest in an effort to protect it. He hurriedly rushes through a deep, swampy forest he’s not the most familiar with. Shoes soaked and slipping in the muddiest puddles as rain pours down all around.

He wasn’t even sure where he was heading anymore, under all these thick, slumped trees. And even that doesn’t change that rain still manages to coat him all over, leaving him dripping wet as he continues to scramble away with something needing protecting.

He was covered in small aches and pains from the battle he’d just managed to escape, although, barely as he still runs from the shrieking engine of his mechanical copy, and his many other clone brothers –er- whatever they’re called. Being hunted through this wretched weather fog was not on his day-plan.

Seeing a nice cover under a short, stubby tree hanging over–his quick feet slip not so graciously a few times as he attempts to turn in the tree's direction. One of his hands had to pull free of protecting his package in order to catch himself briefly so he could book-it for the tree.

His free hand swats the large, hanging leaves of the drooping tree, out of his way before he dives towards the trunk, where the ground’s layered in a puddle, like everywhere else. The leaf slides back down, shadowing the hedgehog in its protection as speeding blurs zip by, almost endlessly.

He carefully curls around himself, subconsciously trying to shield what he holds, as his eyes dart back and forth, zoning in on every single bot that speeds by, making sure they don’t catch notice of him in his last-minute hiding spot.

When the last one zips by, and the engines are no longer in range to be heard, he slumps in relief, finally exhaling to breathe properly. Only then, does he realize how protective he was acting towards his company, and he awkwardly clears his throat, opening his hands to reveal his little companion. A little black and red hedgehog, looking up at him with big, reflective ruby red eyes. Eyes that hold nothing but innocent curiosity, a childish curiosity that doesn’t belong on the face of his rival.

“Uh.. Shadow?” He voices, trying to be quiet in case the Metal Sonic’s weren’t too far off. “Do you.. Understand me?”

The little hedgehog just sits in the palms of his soaked hands, also a little wet, but doesn’t react in any way that would suggest he’d even spoken to the little guy.

With an overly stressed and frustrated groan, he pulls a hand free to brush back his own messed up quills, trying to ease the way they started to spike out in defense. His eyes, panickily glued to the little hog in his hand.

“Okay.. It’s fine.” He tries to ease, with a slight shake of his voice. “If I can just get a hold of Tails, he should be able to… ah.. Right.. Communicator was destroyed and lost.” He thinks aloud, eyes now traveling down to his bare wrist, where a few deep cuts lie, a pinkish red, staining his fur where the rain washed at it.

“And Tails is halfway across the world, right now..” He adds with an uneasy sound, shrunken, tired eyes, drifting back to the mini hedgehog in his grasp, which has now lost interest in him, and is looking around the makeshift tree-tent they are currently sitting beneath.

Lips pulled tight, tension making him feel antsy, he watches the little hedgehog, unable to process much outside of: “We’re in trouble…”

A chill riding up his spine, finally draws his mind back into his body and–oh–does he feel the shiver that wracks him from the ice-cold mini-pool he’s sitting in, along with how soaked he already is, rain getting through his quills and fur as if he were in the ocean. Running helped keep his adrenaline going, it kept him warm, kept him busy. Now, he can feel the blistering chill of the wind blowing through the leaves, hitting his drenched self, and feeling as though it’s tearing straight through him. It felt about as cold as winter! The only–hardly–good thing about that, was the fact it numbed most of the injuries he’d sustained over the course of their battle with Metal Sonic and his army of twins.

A particularly sharp gust of wind blew through, and reflexively made him curl in on himself. Shivering against the thick trunk of the tree, he notices he’s not the only one getting affected by the extreme weather and lack of action. A faint trembling in his hand, had him look down to the tiny, curled ball in his palm, that is shivering up a storm of its own. A small, shaky, squeak sounding from the wet ball of fur.

Reacting on instincts and past experience–with a–not as young–fox–he immediately rips off his soaked gloves, dropping them in the pool of water as he cups his hands around the little hedgehog, trying to help warm him up again.

“Sorry, Shads..” His voice cuts a little from the cold. “If I could, I’d get a fire or something going, but-” Another gust of wind cuts his sentence off short, and he turns his back to it, curling more around the little hedgehog in his hands. “I don’t even see why I’m explaining this to you..” He shivers out. “You’re nowhere near old enough to understand this stuff right now. And even if you can understand, you’d already know from the obvious.”

Outside their little tent is barely lit from daylight trying to illuminate through the thick, gray clouds rolling in, leaving the inside of their natural tent, nearly pitch-black. As that does make their hiding spot safer from the mirror army of droids, it is also making running home right now a more dangerous option. Not being able to see his enemies coming, or where he’s going, especially with all this heavy rain. Tonight was going to be a trip…

The occasional sounds of the robotic copies' engines whirring out with a speeding light not too far, suggests those machines were still on the hunt, and since water doesn’t seem to affect them, they’d likely be looking all night long if it came to it. Meaning, he’s going to need to move places soon. But that won’t be happening until he’s certain these copies are far enough away that he won’t draw any attention.

It was getting darker, and the rainwater on the ground was now reaching his ankles, and he can officially say his feet were numb. The rain had long since gotten through his shoes and filled them with water, soaking his socks, too, and as uncomfortable as it is, he’d also accepted the fact he’d have to deal with it, till he can get back to Tails’ lab.

With a shaky exhale, he leans forward, away from the trunk of the tree, checking outside their little tent for the fifth time since daylight died out. Leaving things next to pitch-black and making it to where the vaguest of shadows were his only indication that something was there. At least, until another Metal clone came flying back, leaving an orange glow in its wake.

The area seemed clear. He hasn’t seen, nor heard anything, though, that could be because of the lack of light, and the overwhelming splashing of the rain, along with the rumbling claps of thunder. Seeing or hearing anything right now, would be near impossible. But he hasn’t seen any bright glowing red eyes, or orange flaming engines flying around, so that should, hopefully, mean they’re in the clear. For now..

Unable to see in the dark, he brushes a thumb over the quilled ball in his cupped hands, trying to check on the little fluff ball, who’s no longer shivering. A rough vibration with a small gruff sound from the little hedgehog was enough of a warning to not do that again. Okay. He still doesn’t like being touched. Noted.

Unfortunately, though, in this situation, without the advantage of sight; Sonic needed a free hand to feel around for directions, so Shadow was going to have to deal with it. And so, he shifted the little quilled ball into one hand–earning another little growl at the movement–and held him against his chest to help with keeping the wind from him.

And with a free hand, he reaches down into the water feeling for where he’d discarded his gloves–not wishing to leave a trail–before he steps out of their little shield in hopes of finding better shelter for the night. At least, someplace much drier.

“You are so going to owe me after this.” He grumbles aloud. The thunder, so graciously covering it up. Though, I do really hope you don’t remember any of this after you’re back to normal.

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cyrusclouds · 3 days

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dsaf headcanons!!,!

i know literally nobody asked and no one cares, but i'm going to be putting my dayshift at freddy's headcanons here for the soul. this'll definitely get edited fairly frequently sooo!! anywayz here we go :3 (angst warning for some of these??)

jack has frequent sleep paralysis!! the kicker to this is that he THINKS he has a sleep paralysis demon, but really, dave just breaks into his house through his bedroom window every night and stares at him while he's asleep. he refuses to break character whenever he wakes up because "maybe he won't see me" (he definitely sees you, dave)

while henry was alive, dave picked up the habit of shutting up and shutting down whenever henry got too annoyed. problem with that is that jack playfully presents as annoyed all the time to mess around, and dave takes it very seriously, so they get into a bad cycle of jack acting annoyed and dave shutting down for no reason *constantly* (dysfunctional doomed yaoi core!!!)

henry is a tea drinker, not a coffee drinker. he specifically drinks black tea without any add-ins (basically the same as drinking straight black coffee for my coffee drinkers out there) (also dave eats the fucking tea leaves when henry is done with the bags)

harry still gets war flashbacks fairly frequently and is set off decently easily. when this does happen, rebecca is literally always there to comfort him and stays with him until he's calm again (straight couple goals)

whenever henry was seeping into jack's mind (legacy jack core), dave could very distinctly tell. one of the worst instances of this would have been a time where jack slipped up and called dave 'william', which would have caused a very quick panic that confused the *shit* out of jack (homeboy does not know what he did)

!!!NOT MY HEADCANON!!!! belongs to orcatstra :]!!! but dave and jack totally got drunk as shit in vegas one time and got married. no if's and's or but's, it happened, canon, i was the fly on directdogman's wall when he made dsaf.

jack reminds dave a lot of henry (unfortunately), which has caused dave to be very easily set off by things that henry used to do or say to him if jack does or says something similar. jack has no idea why every single time it happens, but he always comforts him until he calms down anyways :)

henry has a habit of spinning things like pens and pencils in his fingers while he writes, but sometimes this expands to wrenches and actual tools while he's working on his creations. yes i think henry is strong as a bitch, how else is he carrying those literal hunks of metal

I THINK HENRY PROBABLY HAS OTHER LOST TAPES OUT THERE RAAHHHH they're just probably less lore important LMFAO

henry would be the type to hate basically every animal, but he would (begrudgingly) feed stray cats from time to time if nobody was around (god forbid he ever look weak in front of people)

henry had a god awful sleep schedule. he would stay up until around 2-3am every morning at the least working on his creations, sometimes taking it as far as full days if he was focused enough. it was very concerning to dave (who does not sleep), and he would loom outside of his office a lot listening in case he fell asleep. it wasn't terribly common, but sometimes he would, in which case dave would break in and move him to the little chair he had in there

henry was definitely the kind of guy to straight up call people an idiot or dumbass, and then go on a long ramble about exactly what they were wrong about and how wrong they were. expanding on this headcanon, i think henry would have been a major rambler about things he was passionate about, especially towards dave (since that's like the only person he was around in his later life)

henry was never the kind to take breaks. no matter what, he always kept working. but, he did allow himself one once because his physical health was severely deteriorating, and he spent most of the day reading anyways LMFAO, just in a more comfortable environment. he would have loved reading, dead convinced.

#headcanon #head canon #dsaf #dsaf jack #dsaf dave #dayshift at freddy's #dsaf henry

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jeonginsdiary · 12 hours

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If there is a long fic that you have written but haven't posted, can you post it? I won't go to school tomorrow and I want a fic to read tomorrow(i send the same message to everyone)

- birthday

- lee! minho | ler! chan

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"happy birthday lee know!" the members cheered in unison as they clicked on the vlive. what better than to celebrate it with all eight of them together? minho couldn't help but crack into a smile at STAY's comments, hanging his head low as to not get teased by the rest. unfortunately, chan saw everything.

said boy grinned, bringing a hand down to squeeze at minho's side. "aw~ is someone smiling?"

the younger grunted, reflexively shooting his arm down to block the boy's fingers. "d-don't" he muttered under his breath.

chan whispered lee know's name in his stupid little teasing way and the dancer knew he was about to be wrecked. "that reminds me..!" the leader started before dragging the younger to the ground and motioning for felix to position the camera so that STAY had a clear view.

"wahahait!" minho begged, already giggling in anticipation and going weak while trying to fight the older off. the members collectively burst into laughter, knowing exactly what was about to happen. "wahait plehehease, i cahahan't!" chan was attempting to shove the dancer's shirt up and lee know was shoving it right back down.

jeongin shivered from his spot on the couch. this is what he endured every single day. "now you know how we feel!" the maknae chimed, watching the boy nearly scream with anticipation.

the australian would sneak a few fingers into minho's armpits, poking around before moving back down to push the younger's shirt up. lee know was visibly weak, slipping in and out of silent laughter. he never knew teasing could get to him this much... not knowing when chan would finally find the opportunity to claw his vulnerable tummy drove him crazy.

well he didn't have to wait much longer because the leader quickly found his navel as he dug a single finger into it. "WAAAAIIT!!" lee know screamed, turning his body to the side as far as he could with chan still on top of him. there was no way he was going to let the camera see him like this. so, desperately, he held back his giggles, frantically tugging at the finger in his belly button.

"trying to be tough~?" the oldest teased, wiggling his finger in like crazy and watching the dancer jolt aggressively and a slap a hand over his mouth. chan used his available hand to turn the boy over so he was once again facing the camera. the members laughed at the pained expressions minho made in attempts to hold back his mirth. occasionally, he let out a high pitched whimper, making the others point and coo at him. "mon, let us see your smile~" chan said as he lowered his head down.

oh lee know knew exactly what was about to happen. "NO! STOP!" he uncovered his mouth, letting the viewers see his wide, toothy smile. but at this point, he couldn't care less. all he was focused on was trying to push the older's head away from his ticklish tummy.

"he's gonna die! chan's raspberries get him so bad!" jisung exclaimed to STAY, motioning to the two wrestling boy's on the floor.

minho was grabbing at anything he could. from the australian's hair, to his shirt, to his face, basically anything in reach. the dancer even tried covering chan's lips when they got dangerously close to him, but a quick poke to his sides made him shoot his hands right back down.

felix laughed from his seat on the couch, which was behind all the action. "does he always fight like this?" the deep voiced boy read from the comments.

the members laughed. "yes, i can't remember the last time he hasn't nearly killed chan hyung while trying to get away." changbin said, head resting on yongbok's shoulder.

lee know blushed at the teasing.

"hyung! just do it already it's been forever!" seungmin whined impatiently. in which chan was quick to retaliate.

"i'm trying! he keeps blocking me!"

"wait!" seungmin exclaimed, resting on yongbok's other shoulder. he took the younger australian's phone from his hand and scrolled up the comments. "someone said to keep poking his sides so his arms stay down."

minho's eyes widened. "don't." he threatened, his voice sounding less intimidating and more desperate. he threw his head back when the leader followed instructions, jabbing his sides nonstop and making it almost impossible for the dancer to not clamp them down. slowly, the oldest agonizingly lowered his head. every time lee know tried to block him, he could barely get his hands an inch up before the poking made him bring them down with a shriek. he was still keeping his giggles in, but barely. a few escaped here and there, prompting an onslaught of teasing for each one.

"no! i'm gonna kill all of yo—АНАНАНАНАНАНАН!NONONONO STAHAHAHAHAP!!" finally, chan was able to bring his head all the way down and blow a buzzing raspberry to the younger's v-line.

minho faced away from the camera in pure embarrassment. "PLEHEHEHEHEASE NООООНОНОНОО!!" he screamed as the raspberries just kept coming. he thrashed around frantically when chan dug into his inner thighs.

the oldest moved higher up the spot, using his first two fingers to push into the boy's upper-inner thighs.

"WAAAAAITT!! HYUHUHUHUHUAHAHAHAHA!" lee know squealed, writhing around uselessly and trying to pry the australian's fingers off. "SOMEBODY HEHELP PLEHEHEHEHEAHAHAHASE!!" he pleaded desperately.

hyunjin walked up with a grin on his face. "i'll pull you out." he took the dancer's outstretched hands, pulling them up and pinning his arms to the ground. "gotcha!" the younger cheered.

"no! nononono wait nOHOHOHOHOOO!!" minho twisted violently in every direction when chan plunged into his pits.

"i never knew he was this ticklish!" seungmin read from the thousands of comments, pulling laughter from the other members.

the dancer gave a giggly whine. "GO AWAHAHAY!" he tugged at his arms weakly, burying face in his shoulder to hide his reddening cheeks.

hyunjin tightened his grip on the older's wrists. "he's always been like this, he's almost as ticklish as jeongin!"

the maknae flushed a deep pink. "you're one to talk." he scoffed under his breath, shivering when the boy gave him a piercing glare. he was relieved when seungmin interrupted them.

"STAY's are saying to go for his ribs." the vocalist grinned. chan complied and brought his thumbs down to rub tortuously deep circles into the victim's ribs.

minho couldn't contain the embarrassingly loud squawk that left his mouth against his will. "STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!! NONONONONO STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!" high pitched laughter forced its way out of the boy's mouth for a few seconds before he was thrust into silent laughter.

"ticklish~?" the leader teased, giggling when lee know shook his head violently.

"i actually never knew his ribs were this sensitive!" felix said as he watched the dancer arch his back defeatedly, weakly tugging at his pinned arms.

seungmin also noticed the older's state. "i don't think he is that sensitive there. chan hyung just knows all the tactics." he shrugged as he went back to scrolling through the comments. "maybe you should let him breathe," seungmin groaned. "but he does this to us everyday!"

nonetheless, chan let up to give the younger time to gulp in some air.

"you guys are all brats!"

minho's snarky behavior let the member's know he had gotten enough time to rest.

"aww, does someone want a punishment~?" the oldest cooed, tapping his fingers on the dancer's hips. "what about here?" he gave a light squeeze to the area, watching the poor boy jolt aggressively.

"no! please not a punishment! guys please! no-ООООНАНАНАНАНАНА HYUHUHUHUAHAHAHA—!!" lee know finally managed to muster up enough strength to rip his arms down and was now prying at those thumbs that were kneading way too ticklishly into the hollows of his hips. unfortunately, the boy was just too weak to save himself, his only option being to lay on the floor in defeat as he used the last of his strength to spew out a few curse words.

his eyes filled with tears of laughter as he once again shook with silent hysterics. maybe he was a little too ticklish for this...

chan drilled his fingers in one last time, smiling at the scream minho let out, his eyes clamped shut as he mouthed the words "i'm sorry," over and over again.

"did you have a good birthday?" the australian asked after letting him go.

"don't do that again." was all lee know could breath out. but believe it or not, minho had already gotten all he had wanted, then again chan didn't have to know that.

—————

okay so this fic was supposed to stay in my drafts cus it’s so messy but it was pretty long so i hope this fits the request!! also ik vlive is shut down but i refuse to let it go😔😔

#kpop tickle #stray kids #stray kids tickle

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sheepispink · 2 days

Text

A Pearl Necklace

HAPPY ENDING VER of A Pearl Series

Ch1 Ch2

Where leon doesnt mess up and also leons pov because THATS SO FUN!!!

Continued from end of chapter 1 👍 this is a BONUS chapter. It makes more sense if you read chapter 2 first then this one. This can also be read as a continuation from chapter 2 as in the time line is the same except that it is ends with a good way and its his pov and like a few lines r diff

“That’s good enough. I fucking hate being woken to push her away from me..” A surge of anger swims in his chest as he shuffles to the edge of his bed, fuelled by a fear he doesn’t dare to pay mind to. It’s true, he hadnt wanted to deal with your tears or the feeling of you so close to him; nowadays

it created a feeling that was like a gnawing at his gut. His body eventually settles as his head sinks into the pillows, fluffed by your hands. Even when he’s tucked underneath the covers and beside the love of his life, he just feels so, so.. vulnerable. He rolls onto his side, one hand under his head as he tries to settle a racing pump somewhere in his chest, his eyes squeezing close. His throat chokes and his muscles clench and although he hasn’t made a sound, the reminder of the past few weeks screams in his ears like bells. Every single day is starting to feel more and more like autopilot, blanking his head out in hopes he can do his job without being reminded of horrors of years ago. He was worked up tonight, having fought another B.O.W and hiding a nasty gash beneath his shirt. You’d definitely ask about it later; the mere possibility bringing a flame of anger and forcing him take a sharp intake of breath. He turns over, seeing your back face him now and his lips pull at a small frown, wondering if you woke up for a moment. You shouldn’t be crying yourself to sleep, ever. But he leaves you this time, still revolting the thought of your touch and your skin if he dared to come closer.

When he wakes the next morning, he cant take it anymore. How is there another round of tears upon her face? He finally pushes away the nausea that creeps in his throat, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Hey, love, what happened? Who did this to you?” Forcing such honeyed words feels like a crime to himself, almost making him frustrated with himself for being untruthful. He also hates the way he’s grateful when you just wipe them away and force a smile, mumbling something about watching a sad movie. Not even for a moment does he dare challenge that, satisfied with a lie as he gets up for another gruelling day.

Over the next month, he feels a swell of pride for how much he has healed. For one, he’s managing his thoughts and emotions much better, no longer hanging on a loose thread whenever someone just speaks. He feels better, having finally gotten to the hang of closing his mind off whenever the thoughts arose. He was sleeping better, you barely even touched him in his sleep anymore— it was perfect. The one thing that slightly irked him is when you would leave the house. Why are you leaving? He hates that he’s curious and he knows he should just let you go; it’s another fuel for the temper that seems to take him easily these days. You’ve also been asking a lot of questions about him recently: how he finds the clothes you ironed for him, the food you cooked and, worst of all, his day. He’s already doing enough to push it away and you’re just bringing it right back to him again.

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He smells the familiar scent of blueberry pancakes as he steps into the kitchen that morning. You’ve been making them again recently but he wont dwell on the why and how. He doesn’t really like to think too much anymore. He picks up the newspaper as he sits at the small kitchen island, hair tousled and muscles aching from the long rest he received after a particularly tough mission. He had woken up on the other side of the bed today, kind of confused how he didn’t squash you in his sleep but as always, he doesn’t question anything. You slide a plate over to him, stacked high with those tasty pancakes and a dollop of whipped cream atop. He always had a bit of a sweet tooth and it’s been a long time since he’d been in the mood for sugar. Regardless, he’s not in the mood to smile or thank you, just eating his food as per normal.

“So..? Did I finally get it right?” He doesnt need to look up to see the small laugh and the way your lips curve into a teasing smile, one he had grown to despise. You always do this, every time you ask about his damn day.

He just- he cant take this anymore. You’re always prying, digging deep into his head and ripping bandages he left on because the wounds wont heal, they never will. He keeps them patched up for a reason, he doesn’t want to see it again. Nor does he want to talk about it.

“Can you stop interrogating me every day about whatever you do? It’s fine, okay? It’s never been any damn different; I don't see the big deal.” He scoffs, gritting his teeth as he holds back from practically shouting at you. His eyebrows furrow in exasperation, one hand rubbing his temple; he cant bear the headaches your words bring.

“I.. Leon- I was just trying to get some feedback.. They dont ever taste as good as the ones you would make.” Now you’re reduced to a stammering mess, trying to stir guilt within his gut, but he wont give in today.

“Well, can you stop? It’s really fucking annoying having to answer your stupid questions every day over menial things. Are you that insecure?” He doesn’t know why he said that but he knows it’s left his lips before he can stop it and one pang in the back of his head tells him that maybe he really is just being honest. You are insecure, thats why you’ve been doing so damn much and annoying him all the time. He takes another bite of the pancakes, his body screaming for relief even now with each rumble of his stomach.

“Leon- I understand work has been stressing you, but I'm just trying-“ There it is, that stupid expression again as you speak the one thing he never wanted you to say. “Work? That's what you think this is about? Maybe you are just idiotic or too narcissistic to realise maybe you are the problem.” He drops the fork in his hand, the metal hitting the porcelain plate as he stands. Of course you just had to mention work, you could never let him get a break could you? You just always had to ruin it for him.

“I am trying to actually be understanding, I'm sorry if I annoyed you but Leon- there is no need to put me down like that.” Again. Work. Don’t you know how to stop? He can feel that anger fuel again, rising and burning with each an every word. Until it snaps.

“You think you’re being understanding.” He laughs at your pitiful expression, thick with a mocking tone, as he says the words. “I can’t believe it. You actually think that. If you can get one thing through your mind, know that you don’t understand anything about me. You never have. Hah.. ever since that night where I almost fucking choked you.” He sneers at you, pushing the chair back as he stands, walking over to the sink with footsteps that echo with uncontrolled emotions.

“I’ve been trying to ask you—to help you. I want to be there for you..“

“Yeah, as if. You know, on that night, I really thought that you might just understand, unlike anyone else has. I was stupid enough to even think that. You just told me your same stupid reassurances; I should’ve kept my hands on your throat a little longer that day. I wish it scared you off and out of my life.” He snaps, leaving a thick tension in the air, like a wall between the pair of you. It’s cruel and unforgiving and an ache in his heart tears the muscle. Bloodthirst, it’s all he can remember from that virus thrumming in his veins. He can’t just quench that bloodthirst, not to you, so his mouth does the work, wearing you down bit by bit. The consuming memory of devouring the very life out of a human, it’s almost like it’s returning to him now.

“You’re not what I wanted.” Words are just spilling out his lips and he cant even control them; he cant even hear each calculated insult.

“I shouldn’t have expected things you could never reach.” He speaks, the plate dropping into the sink with a horrible clatter. All your words are blurring into one, meeting, intersecting all at that one statement ‘work has been stressing you’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stands before the sink, having splashed his face with water at least seven times for the past forty minutes. Only now does he finally feel more like himself—or well the version of himself he prefers to exist as—and his head is free from that invasive fog. Slowly his chest falls, letting out a long breath as his finger pushes the tap off. He hasn’t dealt with that in a while and it only served to remind him that he never wanted to again. That feeling of an aching chest, ribs feeling like they’d crack from the pound of a terrified heart, desperate for relief. Although he always manages to calm every time, the edge of the cut always remains unsealed. Theres no real relief other than the fact it’s all over, no peace in his mind ever. It frustrates him all the more, he’s tried anything and everything and yet theres still that pinprick of a hole which has cracked his mind and heart.

After that, he barely stopped interacting with you altogether. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt right. Maybe it was because you really were pissing him off about everything or that he had started to fall out of love with you. Or maybe, though he never liked to let it linger, he was terrified of the memories only you could resurface. He watched your every frown, the light in your eyes slowly dim out as you start to shift and change. It’s been two months since he last considered you his wife, let alone someone he even cared for. He barely feels the guilt of leaving you like this anymore nor does he feel anything anymore. It just feels blank. Like everyday, every hour, every minute of these days. He can’t remember when he last washed his hair; he just knows he did it. He cant remember filling out the reports, but there they sit on the desk. He cant remember what life was like before the missions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six months. It’s been six months since he almost killed you, since his hands were on your throat and your terrified expression flashed through his eyes with your shaking pupils and beating chest.

Six months since he hurt you. He thought you had moved on, he thought he moved on. He thought he was doing okay.

Only having just stepped through the doorway, his eyes already found your trembling form on the couch. Your eyes were red and wet, salty streaks down your cheeks as you sob. The worst of all is that when you heard him enter, your eyes widened in a way that was far worse than just regular shock. Like you’d be scolded or mocked, shouted at or reprimanded; you looked like you were scared you would be hurt. He couldn’t shake that sight this time, every time he looked at you even when you scramble to reassure him that it was just hormonal. He knew it was bullshit; he had always known and he wanted to ignore it but he just couldn’t. Not anymore. Not when you were scared of him.

He sits at the breakfast table again the next morning, the air quiet from the lack of humming when you make your food, not even music playing in the kitchen or a pep in your step as you dance around the kitchen. You dont spend 5 minutes fluffing the pillows before bed, nor do you use those stupid face masks with the silly patterns. Hell, you dont even put makeup on anymore. The fridge is stocked and yet theres not even a trace of you to mark it as yours. Everything seems to have changed more than he expected. He cant fathom that he missed all these little differences and the fact there were so many. You’re not the same anymore.

There you go again, leaving randomly during the day after scrambling some excuse about needing spring onions. You barely ever use spring onions and he’s positive he saw some in the freezer yesterday. Whilst he usually would’ve ignored it, he finds himself edging closer and closer until he finds himself following you down the road. He saw the fresh tearstains this morning and you gave him no explanation again, this time he will find out.

You walk and walk and walk, and yet you never go to the grocery store like you said. So why do you even leave the house? It’s not like you were avoiding him, you still hung around him plenty and it’s not like you just needed fresh air, otherwise you would’ve just said so. He keeps his distance as he follows you, your depressed expression obvious, until eventually you pass by a friend. It doesn’t look planned but eventually the pair of you sit at a bench and as bad as it seems, he just cant turn around now. What if you tell her the reason you’re always upset? He needs to know.

“Hey, you know i always see you outside these days. I mean damn, do you really love nature that much?” Your friend teases, although a small pitiful look swirls in their eyes. Leon had been wondering the same thing as her.

“I uh.. well..” You give a sheepish smile as you lean into the bench. “I figured Leon would want some alone time.”

“Again? You come like everyday.”

You just shrug, sinking into the bench and quickly shifting the topic with a shake of your head.

A lot of things are starting to become clearer to him now. Every single action of yours held genuine love and yet he couldnt even bear to think about it. He wouldn’t dare to, he couldnt give in no matter how tempting it seemed. This is the life he chose; the life that would kill him slowly but it had it’s perks. He heads home after that, thinks about what happened for a bit before deciding ultimately to leave you alone again. Even so, you still plague his mind every night, every minute and second. It still makes his chest burn all the more, his irritation on an all high. He should not care, he cannot care. So why does it feel like he’s going to eventually break?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His body is covered in bruises when he returns home that night, a bandage around one of his hands and his eyes sunken. He had never felt worse in his life, feeling like he was tipping on the edge of fainting or just losing everything altogether. His heavy feet dragged him, feeling like weights were pulling him back as he reached the doorstep. After a few mishaps, he finally finds the keys and unlocks the door. His boots echo on the hardwood floor and though he’d usually collapse into bed, he needs some painkillers desperately tonight. The door for the kitchen is right there but he feels compelled to head to the living room and check if you’re awake. He hates that he’s actually glad he did.

This feels like the memories that resurface, only a new kind. You’re crying, again. You’re sobbing your eyes out and he’s had enough; he’d exhausted, bruised and battered and he’s not letting guilt consume him tonight. How dare you disturb the life he forced himself to follow? Anger swells at the sound and sight of you crying today, not because it hurt his hears but because it hurts his heart. The footsteps grow louder as he nears the couch and he hates the way you look up at him in a trembling fear, hands gripping the fabric of your pajama trousers. “L-leon, i didnt mean- it was a sad movie-“

“Stop giving me those fucking excuses.”

He’s pissed, his body feels broken, and he’s not letting you get by anymore. He’s letting that anger reign free. He nears the couch until he’s standing before you, no words spilling out your lips as you freeze up in fear. He could do anything to you but would he actually harm you? He knows he looks like he would, and he sees that realisation flash before your eyes. He leans down, closer and time seems to slow as his hand reaches out. His eyes focus on how you squeeze your eyes shut, the mere sight grasping his heart tight, brace for the impact and the sting of pain that should follow if he were anyone else.

But he’s not anyone else and he’s disgusted with himself that you would think so. His hand meets the small of your back as his arm wraps around you. He places your hands around his shoulders, knowing you seem far too frazzled to do so and takes you into his lap as he settles in your seat. In silence, he strains his bruised arm to grab the blanket you keep at the end of the couch. You always said it was for ‘cold nights’ but it always translated to cuddling sessions until you were caught by slumber and he carried you to bed. The warm fluff of the blanket is pulled over the pair of you, his hand keeping you firmly in place against his chest as he makes sure to settle you. He doesn’t dare say a word, the nausea in his throat creeping higher with each brush against your bare arms. But he’ll bear it for you, just this once. He knows your still unsure: he can see the way you sneak small uncertain glances as your hands twitch at his shoulders, begging to wrap around his form. So he doesn’t make you lift a finger, taking your hands in his and helps them to settle around his body before he returns to his embrace on you again. It’s utterly silent in the room yet the need to speak is desperate; the both of you know this isn’t normal and yet neither of you are complaining. With his chin resting gently on the top of your head, he rubs your back slowly until you relax into him and somehow grasp him even tighter. Even though his body feels like a block of ice, some part of him inside melts aswell; a small sign of that vulnerability he despised returns. Yet still he stays here until you begin to mumble small apologies which are only met by a small shake of his head and a motion to stay silent. You immediately fall quiet and he sees your eyes glimmer for the first time in months; he’s not sure if the crying caused it or true hope, but he prays you’re feeling just a smidge better. You end up resting your head against his chest comfortably, glistening tears staining your cheeks as you eventually fall asleep.

He takes you upstairs soon after, settling you on the armchair as he notices the dirty sheets from his lack of care. Despite his previous exhaustion, he couldn’t care less about his bruises as he takes out fresh sheets from the cupboard and changes them quickly. Once the bed smells brand new again, he scoops your drowsy body again, hushing you when you begin to wake, and tucks you beneath the covers. He cant lay beside you in such a state so he begins to head to the bathroom, considering a quick shower just to scrub off any grime. Much to his dismay, he’s quickly stopped, your weary eyes blinking as you sit up in bed and your fingers lightly tugs at his hand.

“I.. uh.. um..”

“Yes?” His voice comes out gruffer than he’d like, fingers twitching at the feeling of your skin against his.

“You- you’re going to come back, right? You’re not going to leave, will you?” The mere sound of your hopeless tone is enough to make him grit his teeth. The question sounds hopeful and yet it’s obvious you think you don’t trust him to say the truth.

“No, i’m not leaving, I’m just taking a a shower.” He states, voice just as cold as the one that would cut you through with insults. Still, his hands are gentle as they push your shoulders back into the bed.

“Go back to sleep..” He sighs, pulling the covers over you again. “I’ll be quick. I promise.” He watches as you reluctantly nod, eyes watching him with distrust before he turns around and disappears into the bathroom.

He stands infront of the mirror again, waiting for his mind to crack and fall as it usually does on these hallowed nights. He had done everything wrong tonight; he touched you, spoke to you, even promised you. He went near you when he shouldn’t have. But no onslaught of fears come today, or that sharp ache in his chest which reminds him on horrors in a foreign place. Instead, he just looks at his confused expression in the mirror, because for the first time in seven months he’s not acting mindlessly. He’s actually thinking, breathing and talking; he’s living. After everything he’s done to survive and live better, the one thing he needed was you. He understands now, after all this time, why his mind was so insistent on staying away from you, why he did everything. It was because he was scared.

Everytime he gets a nightmare, it ends with the fear on your face after that horrible night. The more he pushes it away, the more he tries to forget is the more he ended up harming you. He refused to touch you because of the fear he could do it again. Every single thing shut off in his brain because he was terrified of those traumatic experiences and he couldn’t ever admit it. He even refused to come near you because he was scared you’d try console him and he knew he would break within seconds. Vulnerability had never been his strong suit and the mere fear of it had ended up being the cancer that consumed every single part of him until he became a living shell. He never wanted to hurt you, or snap at you, or make you feel like nothing. He always figured it was better that way because it meant you wouldn’t have to deal with him and he wouldn’t have to open up. He was a coward and he had paid the price for it; the cost would’ve been your sanity if he hadn’t cracked tonight. He doesn’t want to think of what could’ve happened if he didnt, but he has to. Avoiding everything led to this and it will again. His hands plant against the shower wall as he starts to wash, and slowly begins to think about everything he did wrong even if it hurts more than those night terrors.

He watches your drowsy eyes widen upon seeing him when he re-enters the room, his heart aching at the tear stains that shimmer on your cheeks from earlier. “I told you to sleep..” He mumbles out, standing awkwardly in the doorway, wishing he could avert his gaze but that would be too cruel to you. “I..i… you..” Your lips fumble for words, eyes gazing up and down his unclothed body. Just in his boxers, he stands before you with his adams apple bobbing as he swallows sharply. “Yeah..”

From head to toe his once pristine skin was covered in scars and bruises of all kinds. He hadn’t let you seen him since his trip to Spain and the sight had been much more horrible back then. Scratches, bite marks, dark scars that show deep gashes and even fresh purple bruises from today’s mission. He knew he couldn’t bear to speak to you about anything just yet, but he mustered up his courage to at least show you. He was also aware this wouldnt make you magically forgive him and he wouldn’t accept it if you did. He fucked up, everything, but he’s not about to let it die when he can at least help you bounce back. He’d destroy himself if it meant seeing you as happy as you used to be.

“Leon.. i..”

“I know you’re going to feel bad, so don’t. I didn’t want you know, thats not your fault.”

He watches you nod meekly, quiet eyes still scanning all over his scarred form, before he begins to walk hesitantly over to the bed. Clenching his fists, he drives down the burn of pain that comes with each step and the guilt that blazes through his gut. Your hands reach out, tentatively before grabbing onto his own. “..Fine, i wont say that.. but can i say one thing at least?”He lets out a small sigh and nods in agreement, squeezing your hand as he sits in bed next to you. Your eyes flutter meekly as you swallow, his hands carefully lifting you to bring your head to rest on his lap with his back pressed against the headboard.

“I’m pissed at you. I- i really am and-“ Your eyes are persistent as they look right up at him, chest rising quickly as you spill everything out. “You made me feel like i was going insane and-“ He’s concerned at how your nails imprint into your palms before he gently moves your fingers to focus on something else—anything else, even himself. So he pulls you into him as you crumble, your fingers digging into his back as to express your desperation.  “I wanted to help you so bad- i didn’t want us to fall apart and we were, fuck- we couldn’t even be near each other. You looked so miserable every damn day Leon- I couldn’t even do anything about it-“ You let out a choked sob against his neck, his hand pulling you firm against him as he squeezes you protectively.

“It was never your fault, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. I was too much of a fucking coward to face life and i ruined us.” He confesses, the palms of his hands cupping your flushed cheeks. “Dont you dare forgive me, not now. I dont want you forgiving me until you’re absolutely sure.”

You quieten down almost instantly by his words, reaching your hands up to rest behind his neck until eventually you nod and he knows he’s made the right choice. His lips turn up just slightly and then you sit up a little better, trying to look firm even though you had been so vulnerable a moment earlier. That’s why he loves you, you’re just so perfect. Not once have you ever cared about what others think of you, nor do you let yourself be trampled over so easily. Even if you’re lips are wobbly as you narrow your eyes at him right now, coming off more adorable rather than angry. Despite everything he’s ever fought and the praises he receives for his work, you’re the strongest person in this very world and the reason he’s still here. You once told him that if he was a mountain, you’d be like those little flowers that grow at the top even when the conditions are beyond habitable. He’s never believed anything more until now.

“Fine.. if you really want that then i wont forgive you until you tell me everything. I refuse to forgive you until you tell me every little thing in your head.” His lips quirk into a slight smile, a first in too many blank days to count. His thumb rubs the curve of your cheek, so rosy and pink. “I promise, the day you forgive me will come.” He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before shuffling until he’s laying back in bed with you atop of him. “But for now, i want those dark circles under your eyes gone immediately.”

“You should sleep on the couch for all the days i did.” You feign annoyance, small huff leaving your lips and without a second thought he rises out of bed. It’s like it’s hitting him all over again, like a teenage boy trying to hide his crush, he misses the warmth of your body desperately. Even so, he knows he deserves far worse than sleeping on the couch, so he’ll bear it for now.

“I’ll make you breakfast everyday day going forward too. Blueberry pancakes, just the way you like it.”

Right now, it sounds like the bare minimum, but you had no idea how much he’d love you from now on. He’d tell you more but he’d prefer to see the glimmer in your eyes when you’re surprised. Though you tug at his hand before he can go.

“I think we can leave your punishment for next week. You owe me 6 months worth of love.”

That makes him finally grin and he’s under the covers again, arms enveloping you before you press your lips against his.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fluff #resident evil angst #leon x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #re4 #re4 leon

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desifleabag · 3 days

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I am a hypocrite

I share stories and poems of love with people I will never meet,

Yet I find it difficult to stand beside the bride and groom, watching them get married

With a face of utter disappointment and hate.

Why did she get married? Why does she want to have kids?

I love families who genuinely take care of each other,

So I tell her mother, "I am jealous you have such a sweet family."

My friend smacks me and reminds me, over tea, how I speak of not wanting a family.

I love roses, and it's the only metaphor of love I contemplate to write.

I bought roses from the street and threw them away,

Maybe because I am distant with the idea of love,

Or because I have deprived myself of love every single time it knocked on my door.

I tell my friends I want to sleep alone.

When I do, I find my teddy bear hugging me,

While my friends watch "Friends," Ross hugging Rachel.

My tears dry, and no one removes my specs or puts a blanket on me.

Oh yes, I locked the door, just like I locked my heart.

I hate my parents, not because of the way they treat me, but the choices they made in their life.

I don't save the last scoop of ice cream for my mother,

I don't call my dad to come for dinner.

Yet, I clean the kitchen and wait for my dad while reading a book.

I told the universe that I hate him,

I will never love him.

Yet, I choose to keep his contact in my phone,

Text him every last week of the month.

I didn't stop cutting cake on his birthday,

Though he lives in the same continent and hates celebrating birthdays.

I whisper, "This is the last time," but I behave as if it's my first time embracing him.

I keep shouting at my sister, calling her a trash bag.

But while buying a flower for myself,

I will buy one more flower for her.

If I buy a T-shirt for myself,

I will purchase a bigger size so we both can wear it.

I keep complaining about the relationship I have with winter.

But when it arrives, I buy myself a cardigan,

Make hot chocolate, have tea, and do bonfires,

With a stack of medicines.

Yes, I am over my friendship breakup.

I hated them with my heart, mind, and soul.

It's been months and months,

But I still keep them in my prayers and wonder how they are doing.

Do they think about me? Oh! Forget it, they don't!

The hypocrite in me and the lover in me,

For the things I hate and love at the same time.

I will never understand or articulate.

I am not yellow, but I am grey.

#poem written by me #desiblr #desi shit posting #desi #desi academia #dear diary #poems #poetries #short essay #spilled poetry #spotify

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ae-azile · 3 days

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Progression, Chapter 27: Preview

Chay: Kim and I have a son now. 🥹

Khun: Kim’s PREGNANT?! 🤰🏻 Kim! Why wouldn't you TELL me? 🖕🏼

Kim: I don't have the parts for that.

Chay: Don't remind me 😞

Porsche: I'm going to ignore you just saying that and instead ask for clarification. Whose baby did you steal? You're too young to be a parent. You have your college interview and practical coming up.

Macau: Does P’Pete’s dad have another baby he was mistreating that you took?

Pete: I am in this group chat, Macau.

Macau: Sorry 😬

Chay: He's not a human baby! He's a dog!

Porsche: Chay! Dogs are a big responsibility! What about college?

Chay: I can walk him on some parts of campus! You are acting like I can’t take him anywhere. And even if I can't take him somewhere, you are acting like you won't watch him.

Porsche: I won't! You got yourself into this mess! I'm not taking care of him!

Chay: Meet Koda!

Porsche: …I will protect him with my life.

Pol: Awwwww ♥️

Khun: HE IS THE CUTEST DOG IN THE WORLD!!!! I’M AN UNCLE!!!! ❤️🧡🧡💚🩵💙

Nalin: You already are an uncle, Khun! 🙂♥️

Arm: Why are you in this group chat???

Nalin: To gather stray gossip about you. You're SO interesting despite how boring you can be.

Arm: Who added you?

Nalin: Why do you not want me included? You could just be grateful that I take an interest in your life?

Arm: Huh?

Porsche: Did he pose like that?

Chay: Yes! He was jumping for a ball. When I pulled my phone out to take a picture, he looked at me, then stood up on his hind legs and gave me that look! He's SO smart and sweet. I love him more than I have ever loved anyone.

Porsche: Wow. Kim and I are RIGHT HERE.

Kim: He has said it fifteen times to me and your ma already. We both accept it. He's a sweet dog. Great actor too. He acted sickly and depressed while we were at the shelter. We took him to the pet store and that all stopped. He kept pulling us through the aisles and taking all the toys he was interested in off the hooks.

Chay: And he got every single one because he deserves them. 🥰

Kim: Not for his abilities on a leash.

Chay: Fine. He needs some practice on a leash. But he doesn't jump on anyone unless you prompt him to jump up on his hind legs. He's perfect. And he wasn't faking being sick, Kim. You know he has problems. We can both see the polyp and inflammation in his ear! But Kim is telling the truth. His personality changed within minutes. It must have sunk in that he finally found a loving home. ♥️ Mindset and support can do wonders to alleviate depression and chronic pain! He's not even 3 yet and the staff said his asshole owner dropped him off there when he was only 8 months old! He was there for over two years and no one showed him any interest because of his ear problems. I can't believe that vet wouldn't come out and operate on him for another week. That's why we got a hold of Phoenix’s vet. We dropped his paperwork off at the office and he said he could do the surgery in two days.

Kim: Probably for the best. That way, you aren't stressing about it and compromising your interview and practical.

Chay: Or when we meet with your label next weekend.

Kim: OUR label.

Arm: Are you both sitting at the park together but talking through here?

Chay: You all are free to jump in at any moment.

Nalin: Your dog is really cute, Chay! I love dogs. ♥️

Macau: You do? I do too! I’ve been thinking about getting a dog.

Vegas: Since when? You've never even had one.

Macau: I've always wanted one.

Nalin: If you get one, Preeda volunteers at a rescue near our apartment.

Macau: I'll go there first ☺️

Nalin: 😁

Arm: 🤨

Vegas: 🙄

Pete: Do you have more pictures, Chay?

Pete: Very cute. 🙂

Kinn: I'm looking forward to meeting him. 🙂

Tankhun: I am too! 🤗 Although, it is bad timing.

Chay: Getting Koda today was PERFECT timing.

Kim: He will not take any critique that includes Koda’s name in it. Watch it. He's come up with three songs about him in the last twenty minutes.

Porsche: Aww. Are they good?

Kim: They’re…songs.

Tankhun: I'm not critiquing a new family member. But I was going to reach out in a bit to see if you, Kinn, Vegas, and Macau were available tonight. I wanted to go to Yok’s together and rent out the VIP room for long overdue brotherly/cousinly drunken bonding!!! 😩

Vegas: You want to get drunk together?

Tankhun: Of course!

Vegas: What's your angle?

Tankhun: Finding out Pa’s angle is my angle! And I want to spend time with my brothers - who know him the best, as well as with you and Macau - who hate him the most!

Vegas: How did the breakfast with him go?

Tankhun: He arrived set on ending the relationship and ended up taking away Arm’s guard status!

Nalin: You don't have a job anymore, Hia???

Tankhun: He gave him a better job. Arm is to solely focus on the technical aspect of our security system. The only duty he will be keeping from his time as head guard is overseeing the intake and routine trainings. To fill up his time, Pa has offered him the Chief Information Officer for the Theerapanyakul Luxury and Amenities Brand. And then, he called him “son.” 🤢

Vegas: Sounds like he actually approves, but has taken an interest in him. That sucks.

Macau: Congratulations on the new job, Arm. 🙂

Arm: Thank you?

Vegas: 🙄 Suck up.

Arm: What?

Nalin: Glad you're not jobless. You get dangerous when you're bored. That's what Malai and Hansa always say.

Arm: They exaggerate.

Pol: You literally built toy cars that explode on a slow work day.

Vegas: YOU built those?

Tankhun: To be fair, I gave him the idea.

Vegas: Well, I figured that.

Tankhun: Let’s get drunk together and move past it! Macau too!

Vegas: No Macau.

Macau: Hia, I am legally allowed to drink now.

Vegas: Not around me.

Macau: Fine. I will just go somewhere else and drink. Alone.

Vegas: You won't.

Macau: Why can't I see you drunk? You're a messy drunk, aren't you?

Vegas: No

Tankhun: I can't speak for Vegas, but I can assure you I am incredibly classy and low-key when I am under the influence.

Arm: 😂🤣😂

Tankhun: ARM, YOU ARE ONE TO USE THOSE EMOJIS TO TRY AND ACT LIKE YOU ARE A BETTER DRUNK THAN ME! 🥃🍻🕺🏼⛳

Pol: I don’t remember Arm ever golfing when he was drunk…

Nalin: I want to see Hia drunk.

Arm: Absolutely not.

Tankhun: I promise we will have a girls’ night, Nalin. I am in full support of Arm inviting you girls to spend time with Pete, Pol, and Porsche. If you choose to drink together, that's your call. But I feel like an exclusive hang out with my brother and cousins is needed at Yok’s

Nalin: Fine. I will crash your hangout at Pete’s, Hia.

Macau: I will be home too. Hia doesn't want me to go to Yok’s. Sorry, Khun.

Vegas: Changed my mind. You can go.

Macau: It's okay. I don't want to make you feel weird. That's how nice I am.

Tankhun: You're going, Macau. It's required!

Macau: Whatever…

Nalin: 🫶🏼

Tankhun: Aw, Nalin. You're so sweet. ♥️ you too!

Chay: Kim can go. Koda and I will be fine. We're heading back now. 🙂

Tankhun: Yayyyyy! I can't wait to meet my new nephew and spend time with my brothers and cousins tonight!!! It will be so much fun!

Vegas: If you say so?

Macau: …Yay.

Tankhun: Oh, fuck off! We all made up! See you at 8. 🖕🏼

#progression 27 #progression preview #progression spoilers #text scene #kimchay fanfic #armkhun fic #kimchay fic

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teddybeartoji · 2 days

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CHALLENGERS (2024)

i've been racking my brain for quite some time now to come up with a way to really express how i feel about this film - and i think the best way to do it is just to say that it truly made me want to get into filmmaking. and that it made me feel so fucking alive. it felt like a different type of oxygen. like crack or something. this is obviously going to be a ramblepost so i apologize if it's super fucking messy. also big spoilers will come with a warning so don't worry abt that. i am going insane.

+ btw here's the trailer if u don't know anything abt this hehehehe

anywayy i've never sat through a WHOLE film with a smile on my face bc i was just so fucking excited. elated is a really good word here i think. all of the following thoughts and words are in fact coming from my lower tummy bc no other film has turned me on so much as this did. it's not about sex btw.

luca guadagnino understands. he really fucking does. this guy is everything i want to be. it's all about the intimacy and the closeness. the sweat. the colors. the eyes. the dialogue. the camerawork. the build-up. staging and blocking. lighting. it is about sex but not in the way that you think. forget about porn and smut and whatever the fuck you think sex is. it's about watching and observing. taking everything in. it's about your heartbeat. the warm and fuzzy feeling in your stomach. a tightening knot. want and desire. anger. the rawness of it all. just the way things should be. forget about quickies and think about your best friend thinking about your lover. it's hot, right? it's about the rush. it's about sharing and not sharing. it's about greed and envy. think about sore muscles - how good they feel. think about flashing lights and thrumming bass in your ears. it's about music that makes you feel alive. it's about nudity, it's about power. humility and the absolute lack of it. it's about real humans, real people. eroticism. kissing. disgust. need. spit and saliva. tongues dancing together. muscles. skin on skin. laughter. love and something that's very akin to it but not quite the same. extreme close-ups and moments in slow motion, followed by fast-paced cuts and scenes. slapping. teasing and bickering. it's about everything i could possibly want in this fucking life and luca just handed it all to me on a silver platter.

i'm trying so hard to make this as coherent as possible lmao please bear with me i quite literally shed a couple of tears just from the overwhelming feeling this film gave me.

the casual intimacy is insane in this. one really specific thing made me absolutely lose it - there are TWO scenes where art spits out his gum into people's hands. the first is with tashi and the second time it's with patrick - both times they stand so close together that they're almost brushing against each other and they keep eye contact. there's zero disgust, there's no ew you just spit your gum into my hand. they ask for it. both times, patrick and tashi, hold out their palms for art to do it, and they do it without a word. no please or spit it out. i loved it so fucking much i wish i was better with words bc this genuinely had such a big effect on me. this type of intimacy is so important to me. it feels so real.

the dialogue was fucking great. i feel like the script is often where i might get The Ick bc i just hate when it's just so clear that it was written down without a second thought abt whether or not people actually talk like that (ok this actually might just be a problem with every single film my country makes but still). this felt good!!!!! they talk over people, they talk about small irrelevant things. they repeat what they said, they giggle, they laugh - again, it just felt so real and i loved it.

also. men in shorts. sweaty men in shorts. with shirts and without shirts. biceps. more sweat. muscles. we need more of that in life actually. i think men should wear shorter shorts and they should bend over more. ALSO MIDRIFF. SHIRTS RISING UP JUST A LITTLE, GIVING US A GLORIOUS PEEK OF WHAT'S UNDERNEATH. WHEN I TELL YOU THAT LUCA UNDERSTANDS I FUCKING MEAN THAT SHIT.

THE SOUNDTRAAAACKKKKKK RRRRRAAAAHHHHHHH EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU TRENT REZNOR AND ATTICUS ROSS WE LOVE YOU TRENT REZNOR AND ATTICUS ROSS!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean it's obviously not a surprise that the score slaps so hard bc well... these guys have yet to make a bad score lmao. but this one is genuinely one of my favourite scores i think. super fast paced, exhilarating - it suits the film so fucking good holy shit. fuck it i'll give you a few songs:

challengers: match point + yeah 10x + pull over +

the cast was incredible. and also very hot. i think they were all so fucking perfect and i have literally zerooo complaints abt them i loved them so much. but if i had to pick a favourite performance... it's josh o'connor as patrick zweig. fuuuuckkkk, man. ok maybe i'm a bit biased here i do wanna kinda eat him buTTTTTTT HE'S AN AMAZING ACTOR OKAY. i loved his character soooooo fucking much and i think he did such a good job at portraying this little silly fucked up guy. the way he looks at art, the way he acts around art...

here are two crazy fucking examples for you the churro + the chair uhhhhhhh i am very unwell abt them actually what the fuuuuckkkkk

oke but yeah i just might be really down bad bc i really do love overly cocky assholes with beautiful big smiles okay don't judge me

THE VISUALSSSSS OH MY FUCKING GODD THE COLORSSS!!!!!!!! IT WAS SOOOOOOOOOOOO BRIGHT AND PRETTY AND FUN AND ALIVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EVERYBODY CHEEERRSSS!!!!!!!!! it's such a big problem nowdays that all of the films are so fucking dark like bro where's the sun...... dark and just very dull you know??? and i hate it i hate it so much. this was great though. again - super birhgt and colorful, luca plays with the light like a god and he's really making me believe that the cinema is truly backk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they also mentioned spider-verse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i <3 luca fr

okay i think this covers most of it. i think. i have already decided that i'm gonna go and see it again next week so i'm sure that i'll be returning to this post!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope you can all feel my love for this wonderful piece of art and i hope that you all will go and watch it aswell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 ily thank you for reading<333333

#i got so tired just bc this was just so much #in a good way #i loved it i loved it i loved it #btw if any of you go and see it i'd looove to hear your thoughts too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#ceo of letterboxd says hello

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