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#did my best to bring out the colors as much as possible
boom-shadow · 5 months
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We've got to stop him...Shahra! Please, lend me your power!
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 8 months
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My precious Jewel ♧
Bale!Bruce Wayne x soon-to-be wife!reader
A/N: I got carried away. I'm very passionate about Bale!Bruce and just lost control at one point. I'm not sorry, hehe! This is for all my Bale!Bruce girlies. Can be read for any Bruce, though! Enjoy!
~Fi 🪻
Prompt: Bruce spoiling you to the high heavens and only wanting your love in return.
Requested by: my lovely mutual @vampkennedy
Warnings: NFSW CONTENT. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, very very fluffy, kinda possessive Bruce
Word count: 3.6k
PART 2 ♡
Please don't copy my work. I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
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There was not a morning where you didn't wake up like this. You were alone, yes, but you knew he wasn't far. He never was. This had turned into a game of sorts. A spiel where he would shower you in lavish gifts every single morning. It was his way of showing you just how much you meant to him and that you held his heart in your hands.
You sat up in your shared bed and stretched your arms, letting out a yawn. Your gaze fell to the sliver of light that your curtains couldn't keep out. Getting up, you followed it carefully, knowing that he wanted you to. He was Bruce Wayne, nothing was a coincidence. Everything was intenional. A small, red box sat on your vanity, a note right next to it. It was being perfectly illuminated by the slice of sunshine cutting through the darkness of the room. A smile crept onto your face as you read the note your lover had left you.
My beloved,
May this bring a sparkle to your life, just as you have brought to mine.
Love,
Bruce ♡
You rolled your eyes at how corny this was, but it still tugged at your heart strings in the best way possible. Every day there would be a new box and note for you to discover. Placing the gifts in just the right spot and, like today, draping the curtain just at the perfect angle to guide the way to his love. He was always awake before you were but that didn't stop him. He'd never missed a day and you doubt he ever would.
You looked forward to this as well, but not because of the jewelry or whatever other expensive gifts he had prepared. No. It was the notes. It were the cruelly scribbled down words that made your heart beat out of your chest.
You loved the gifts as well, but the notes held a special place in your heart. Putting down the piece of paper, you carefully picked up the tiny box and opened the lid. Your mouth fell slightly agape at the sight before you. In the smooth, white pillows sat a delicate necklace. It was glistening in the morning glow ever so nicely.
A beautifully crafted rose pendant hung from it, the intricate petals were cold to the touch as you gently grazed the tips of your fingers over them. This had been one of most extravagant presents he'd ever given you. Bruce did always call you his flower. You brought so much to his once dull and gray life; his heart and soul bloomed like the delicate daffodils did in early spring everytime he thought of you. You brought color and joy. Just like flowers did.
"Oh, Bruce..." you sniffled, the smile on your face hurting your cheeks. Carefully picking it up, you placed it around your neck and fastened the clasp. It fit perfectly, sitting ever so delicately on your skin. You admired yourself in your vanity mirror, your fingers slightly grazing the skin just around the necklace.
You couldn't wait to show Bruce. Yes, he'd picked it out but it looked so different on you than it did on the silken interior of the small box.
Throwing on one of your many, many silk robes that Bruce insisted on getting in every single color, you quickly made your way down the grand staircase. The cold marble tiles sending a delightfully cool feeling up your spine each time you took a step. You rushed down the stairs, a steady grasp on the railing. The sunlight streaming in through the many windows fell right onto your ring.
Slowing your pace, you held your hand up to the light and examined the shimmering band. A reminder of his love. He had proposed to you just a few days ago. It was incredibly special, just the two of you under the stars. He popped the question in the stunning garden of Wayne manor that Alfred worked so hard on.
Speaking of Alfred, he was more excited than either of you. He had to sit down and went through an entire box of tissues when you broke the news. What a kind soul. You had the dumbest smile on your face recalling the events from a couple of days ago. Letting out a squeal, you pressed your hands to your heart. You were getting married. Not only that, but to him. The love of your life.
You couldn't wait any longer, you had to see him. Hurrying the rest of the way to the dinning hall, you composed yourself before entering. And the sight. Dear God. Bruce was sat at the head of the table in his boxers and a white T-shirt, coffee cup in one hand, newspaper in the other. He looked so domestic, so peaceful. Not like previous nights where he'd limp in, all battered and bruised.
Slightly looking up, his furrowed brows were immediately replaced with a wide grin when he spotted you. Putting down the mug and the paper he got out of his chair, walking your way. You met him halfway, your arms thrown loosely around his neck as his snaked around your waist.
"If it isn't my beautiful wife." He grinned, tracing circles on your waist with his thumb. "Ah, soon-to-be wife." You corrected him, the smile on your cheeks never leaving. He chuckled lowly and shook his head. "What took you so long, Honey?" He questioned softly. You laughed at his eagerness to see you. "I was held up by your generosity, Mr. Wayne." You teased, taking one of his hands and placing it on your collarbone, right next to the stunning piece of jewelry.
His gaze fell to your neck and his smile faded, leaving him wide-eyed and with his mouth slightly agape. He tenderly caressed your soft skin with his thumb, tracing the shape of the necklace. "I knew it'd be perfect," He breathed out, followed by a breathy chuckle. Your cheeks flushed and you brought his hand up to your lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles.
"Thank you, Sweetheart. For all these precious gifts. For always making me wake up with a smile on my face. You've made me the happiest girl in the world." You confessed, the softest smile on your face. Bruce swear his heart just melted inside his chest. He made you the happiest girl in the world? You have no idea how happy you made him. He felt invincible, like the king of the world. He was convinced he only needed your love to accomplish whatever he set his mind to. You were his oxygen, the blood in his veins, the very spirit of his soul.
Bruce was determined to show you just how much you meant to him, if that was possible. "Anything for you, my love." He said, having the most adoring look in his eyes. You'd placed your hand on his cheek in the meantime, the golden engagement band cold against his skin. "I love you, Bruce." You whispered, gently leaning in for a tender kiss. He didn't hesitate, pulling you closer to him by your waist. You relaxed against his lips, tightening the grip you had on the back of his neck.
You needed more, you needed him. He chuckled against your lips but complied, deepening the kiss. Pulling away for air, you were breathless and your lips were puffy. He would kiss you breathless forever if he could. And God knows you would let him. His playboy days paid off for something because this man could kiss. And you loved how you were the only one to feel those kisses.
"Look at you. My eager, little wife." A sly smirk was on his face and he made sure to emphasize the last word. You opened your mouth to correct him again, but he quickly interrupted you with another breathtaking yet soft kiss. You didn't now why you were so easily flustered by his kisses, you'd been together for years. There just something so electric and new about being his. Truly being his. Him being yours.
"I know we're not married yet, but I can call you whatever I want. You're mine." He said lowly, pupils dilated. His grip on your waist tightend. He's never done that. Never called you his. Told you you were his. It was implied, of course, but he'd never said the actual words. You just stood there, face flushed to the high heavens with the biggest lovesick smile on your face. His tone softened again when he spoke.
"I want you to wear the necklace to the Gala tonight." Your brows furrowed and you slightly tilted your head in confusion. "What Gala?" You asked, no idea what he was talking about. "Oh, it's a... spontaneous thing. There's a new dress in the closet." He answered. You squinted your eyes in suspicion. "Spontaneous, huh? Also, we talked about this, Sweetheart. I don't need a new dress for every event! I've barely worn the other hundreds." You laughed.
He just grinned in response. You knew he loved to see you in something new each time, he loved spoiling you. Only the best for his love. "That's where we disagree. Would you wrap a diamond ring in used wrapping paper?" He teased. You playfully rolled your eyes at him. "No, I wouldn't." You sighed.
"All the other dress just can't keep up with your inner beauty." He breathed, a soft look in his eyes. You folded. You could never be upset with him for long, you loved him too much. "Fine, I'll wear it. You're lucky I love you," you pouted. He wanted you to never stop saying that. That you loved him. Something he'd longed for, for so long. To be loved, truly loved. Not for his money, his status, his looks. But because of who he was. And you did just that. From the odd noises he made when he slept, to the extremely bad jokes he made. You were always there, tending to his wounds, whether they affected his body or his soul. Holding him so softly after a hard night, he feared you'd crumble under his calloused hands.
"Well, I'll get ready for the day. I'll see you later, okay?" You said, pressing a quick peck to his lips. He hummed in response as you slipped from his grasp.
"Honey?" you turned around, already halfway up the stairs.
"There will be a lot more press and paparazzi there today," he said. "Why?" You asked curiously, fully turning around on the stairs. "They're expecting Mrs. Wayne." He shot you a wink and gave you one of those signature smiles as he walked away.
He was right. There were a lot more people. The streets leading up to the location were lined completely with camera wielding, and very nosy paparazzi and news anchors. Everyone was hoping to catch a glimpse. This was huge for the press. They probably thought that this day would never come. Bruce Wayne, Gothams millionaire playboy was settling down? Impossible. The moment you stepped out of the car they were all over you. Invading your personal space, shoving cameras and microphones in your face. This was sensational. They wanted to know more about the woman who tightly held Bruce Wayne's heart in her delicate hands.
They had written some pretty bad stuff about Bruce in the past, not that he cared. But when one peticular news article labeled you as just a trophy wife, all hell broke loose. He sued them until bankruptcy. How dare they. How dare they lable his wife, his world, his precious jewel, as just a trophy. You were the light of his life, you loved him and he loved you. He loved you more than they would ever know and he would burn them to the ground if they ever suggested otherwise again. No press had the guts to call you names again, or they would feel the wrath of a very in love Bruce Wayne.
He came to your rescue pretty quickly. Positioning himself between you and the paparazzi, acting as human shield. Bruce gently placed a hand on the small of your back and pushed you through the doors. You let out a breath you didn't know you held.
"Jesus, do they not have better things to do.." you mumbled, hooking your arm with his. "This is their job, so no, Honey." He grinned. You rolled your eyes at him. You knew that, but did they have to be so obnoxious? If they asked nicely maybe you would actually answer some of their absurd questions. You made your way into the center of the room where the upper class of Gotham was already mingling with a glass of very expensive champagne in hand.
Bruce couldn't stop glancing over at you. The floor length, satin gown was tailored to perfection, showing of your body in the best way. The rose necklace sat nicely around your neck, sparkling under the bright light of the many chandeliers. Your hair was in an updo, showing off your earrings perfectly as they lightly swaying as you walked. Your soft hands were decorated with the many rings he had showered you with, the extravagant engagement band catching everyone's eye.
God, you looked so elegant on his arm, almost floating along the granite floor. The bright smile on your lips melted his heart as you greeted people. Unimportant people, if you ask him. "You look absolutely beautiful, my love," he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning over your neck, sending a chill down your spine.
"You flatter me, Darling. I'm glad you wore this suit, it's my favorite," you gently ran your hand down his chest. It too, was tailored just right. His heart beat faster. He didn't know you had a favorite suit. One that you longed to see him wear because it just made him look that good. "What's this Gala for anyway?" You asked, toying with the lapel of his jacket.
"Oh, you know, just some... charity," he responded with a breathy laugh. You raised your eyebrows at him. Your eyes widened in realization and a knowing smirk made its way on your pretty face. "Did you plan this whole thing just to show me off?" You questioned amused. He stumbled over his words, a very rare occurrence.
"What? Of course not, Honey, that-that'd be absurd-" you interrupted him by pressing a finger over his lips. "Fine. Let them see. Let them see how much I love you." You whispered, smashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. One hand was on the back of his neck, keeping him close to you, the other was steadied on his chest. His hands instinctively snaked around your middle, holding you tightly.
All eyes were on you, hushed whispers and gasps filling the room. You pulled away, chest heaving. Bruce's pupils were dilated. "God, you're perfect..." he whispered breathlessly. He couldn't wait to leave this stupid event and shower you in his affection.
The Gala was a success and you were finally back at the manor. You were standing in front of the mirror in your bedroom and admired yourself one last time before you'd take it all off. Bruce came up behind you, the jacket of his suit discarded and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, trailing kisses along your exposed skin. You let out a breathy laugh. "Look who's eager now," you teased.
Bruce chuckled against your neck. "Can you blame me when you look like that?" He said lowly. He dragged his hands up your back and slowly pulled the zipper to your dress down. With a gentle brush of his hand, he let the dress slip off your shoulders and onto the floor. You were left in nothing but your panties, which quickly joined your gown and the floor as he pushed them down your plush hips.
"You're a little overdressed, don't you think?" You said softly, yet seductively as he continued placing wet kisses along your bare shoulder and neck. "You tell me, Honey," he answered. The taste of your skin was intoxicating. You turned around, putting your hands on his chest and slowly pushing him towards the bed. When the back of his thighs hit the bed, he sat down, pulling you into his lap.
"I think you are," you mumbled hazily, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the ground. You moved your hips over his hard cock, straining against his pants. A low groan erupted from his throat at your actions. You could feel your wetness dripping from you, leaving a wet patch on his crotch. He pulled you in for a desperate kiss as you reached down to unbuckle his belt and slip off his pants.
Bruce was left in his boxers, which were quickly taken care of. His throbbing cock sprung free, hitting his stomach. You took his dick into your ring clad hand and pumped up and down a few times, making his head fall back. "Fuck, Baby..." he groaned, squeezing your hips. Lifting your hips, you lined his length up with your pussy and sank down onto it, a long moan falling from your lips. "G-God.. you fit so well. It's like you were made for me.." you mumbled out, your hands finding their place on his shoulders. He was made for you, he was sure of it. He was yours, until the end.
He moaned out your name when you started moving your hips, which he guided with his hands. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, occasionally tugging and pulling at it. Bruce looked up at you as you bounced on his cock. Your beautiful face was contorted in pleasure, and the jewelry he had bought you still adorned you so nicely. There was a layer of sweat covering your skin, making you shine. Just like your necklace glistened in the dimly lit room. You looked like a Goddess above him, decorated with delicate pieces of jewelry. Jewelry he bought for you.
God, he wasn't sure he wanted to fuck you another way ever again. Your ring was cold against his skin, reminding him that you were his. For him to take, however he pleased. He would buy every diamond in Gotham if it meant having a sight like this before him. Your hips started moving faster, as you moaned. "Shit...M'getting c-close," you breathed out, letting your head fall against his shoulder.
He was almost upset at you for taking away his privilege of admiring you, but he never got the chance once he heard your cute little moans and whines right beside his ear. "Me too, Honey, keep going.." he panted. You pressed your body to his, your tits sitting beautifully against his chest. Bruce glanced down and saw the curves of your soft tits adorned with the stunning necklace.
It molded to their curve so perfectly, making him tighten the grip on your hips, frantically moving you up and down his cock. He chased his release, your warm, wet walls feeling too good. You gasped as his dick hit that one that that made your head spin. "Oh fuck, I can't wait to call you my husband.." you rambled out, barely registering what you'd confessed.
That pushed him over the edge as he shot his load inside you with a guttural groan, filling you up. Your husband. That was music to his ears. That's all he wants, to be yours, to be loved by you. You clenched around him and came with a cry of his name. Panting, you pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "Did you mean that?" He asked quietly, kneading the flesh of your hips.
"Did I mean what?" You asked, breathing heavily. Bruce hestitated, letting out a nervous chuckle. "That you can't wait to call me your husband."
"Oh.. I did. I love you so much, Sweetheart. More than you'll ever know. My heart is yours, Bruce," you said softly, stroking his cheek. "I love you too, Honey." He responded, kissing you passionately.
"I'll draw us a bath," you breathed, raking your fingers through his locks. He hummed in response, reluctantly letting go of you. You slipped off his cock. He watched his cum trickling down your thigh as you walked towards the bathroom. He groaned at the sight, falling back onto the bed with a smile.
Bruce was laying with his head against your chest, surrounded by bubbles and soap. His back was pressed to your front and your hands were wrapped around him. You could feel him relax against you, the tension in his shoulders fading. "I keep them, you know," you said softly from behind him. The water rippled as he turned his head to look at you.
"Keep what?" He asked. "The notes. The ones you always place next to my gifts? I keep all of them," you spoke, tracing patterns on his pecs. "You do?" He smiled. "Yeah, I read them when you're gone and I'm feeling sad. They're in a box in my nightstand." You mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you so much, Honey," he said quietly. "I love you more, Bruce."
From that moment on, he put more effort into his notes. They keep getting longer and longer, almost turning into letters as he confessed his love to you every single day. You would still read them when you're old and gray, because his love for you would never fade. Just like how your love for him would never be lost to time, you would love him until the end, continuing in your next life. Your souls and hearts were bound, and they would never stop searching until they found eachother once again.
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groceryreceiptss · 6 months
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𝐚𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | p.j.
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percy jackson x reader | word count : 1.4k | requested
summary : though you were a skillful archer, you were an amateur when it came to dealing with a sword. while percy helped you trained for hours after lunch, he couldn’t help but fall in deeper with you, even though you’d probably never know it.
contains : my writing (again, warning). just fluff things <3 reader was implied as apollo's daughter, but never actually specified. oh, and a katniss everdeen reference! (because is the fic actually written by me if it doesn't include at least one thg reference?). let me know if there’s more!
a/n : i do NOT know how to write action-y scenes (even ones that are as light as this) so sorry if this comes out as flat haha. i had to get out my copy of the lightning thief just to be a tinny bit more familiar with it to be honest. also yes the title is kinda cheesy but soo is this entire fic < 3
credits : fan art by frostbite.studios, dividers by @benkeibear, pins i used (1) (2) (3)
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The afternoon sun hit the color of your eyes as you tried the move he had just demonstrated to you. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and your forehead slicked with sweat. A borrowed but fitting sword was gripped in your hand, ready to clatter his. Percy and you had been going at it ever since lunch ended and yet you still seemed determined to keep going. 
Percy counted and you attacked, one, two, three. Next move, you tried to thrust it into the right of his protected ribcage. But with your lovely eyes being a little too obvious and your hand still clumsy with the blade, he deflected it off easily, letting yours fall to the ground. 
“Oh, I’m terrible,” you said with an embarrassed smile, pulling up your bronze helmet and dragging a hand to swipe your hair out of your forehead. You retrieved the sword and turned to ask him. “Okay, honest opinion. What did I do wrong?” 
“Well…” he started, as he took off his own helmet, tucking it under his arm, “Your eyes give away a bit too much to the opponent, so I could easily tell what you were going to do. You’re still too hesitant about it I think.” 
You playfully rolled your eyes, “Well, how can I not when my opponent at this given moment is Percy fucking Jackson but go on.” 
Percy was thankful that the sun was taking it one for the team and became a cover for the red that just possibly covered his face. He shook his head, fighting a smile that was trying to break through his lips. Joke about it, take defense.
The lines of his mouth morphed into a teasing grin. “Is that an excuse that I hear, miss y/l/n? Since when do you play with those?”  You were always so stubborn, in the best sense of the word. And Percy always found it admirable to say the least.
You raised your eyebrows before shooting back, “And if it is, it's also not unreasonable, Mr. Jackson.” That cute smile of yours taking flight in your face. He noticed that it was still the same one from when he first saw you at twelve, a few years back. Some things never changed. 
“What else?” You asked again, crossing your arms with the sword pointing downward. “Come on, don't be shy. I can take it.”
He considered it before answering. “Your hand wasn’t steady enough with the sword and with the move you were trying to execute. It made it a bit… off. And hard to get away in battles.”
You let yourself collapse to the ground with a dramatic sigh, exhaustion finally took over you. Your legs stretched in front of you and your helmet and sword clanged by your side. “Never mind, I lied, I can't take it."
He laughed and sat down next to you, putting his equipment by yours. The wind was finally picking up now, bringing a sense of balance to the hot weather.
"I can never get this right.” You huffed, blowing up your loosen hair, which Percy couldn't help but think that you looked slightly adorable.
“It’s totally fine,” he promised you, words creeped with encouragement. “Just be more confident! I swear it works. Or just…” he trailed off, unsure, and then shrugged. “don’t think about it too much, I guess.” 
“Contradiction, contradiction.” You said in a sing-song voice before looking at him with that inspecting face and said, “Do you drink some secret potion or something? Someone altered your ambrosia?”
Percy let out a laugh, “Your perception of me is unrealistically high, I see. I can say the same to you, Katniss Everdeen.”
Your face’s expression stretched with surprise before you nodded in approval. “That’s the best way to compliment my archery skills actually, yes. Forget Apollo the doofus.”
“Who?” Percy played in the joke, to which you answered with the only appropriate one : “Exactly.”
He clapped his hand, an idea forming in his head. "Alright, how about this. If you give it a try just one more time, I'll give you some blue cupcakes my mom just sent me a few days ago." He offered with a knowing smile, getting you too well to strike a tempting bargain with you.
Percy knew how in love you were with his mom's cupcakes. Sally Jackson made the best for the best. It had only taken one bite and he could already tell how head over heels you were with them. He might or might not be planning to try to make a batch himself as a surprise for your upcoming birthday, but he feared the baking talent of the greats did not pass onto him. These hands weren't only skilled in combat, but with a pair of mitts and an oven, they could also burn an entire kitchen down.
Still though. Seeing the way your eyes immediately lit up right now made him rethink his choices. Maybe burning down a room wasn't so bad. At least you would probably laugh at his pathetic attempt.
Your mouth split into a grin and he was brought back to the world. You shook your head in slight disbelief. "Bringing Mrs. Jackson cupcakes into this? You are not playing fair, Perce."
"That's a deal then?" He held out his hand for a shake.
You sighed, putting his hand in yours. "Fine, deal."
Percy tried to ignore the fireworks he felt as he gripped your hand tighter and pulled you up to stand. His heart felt like it was trying to push its way out of his ribs, but in a good way. Like a thrill.
"Alright, one more time," He said as he retrieved his sword and you retrieved yours. "You ready?"
"Honestly, I'm just doing this for the cupcakes now." Seriously, how much could one person make him smile in the span of five minutes?
You and Percy put on the helmets. He counted to three, and you started taking offense as he took defense. One, two, three. It all started out well. Your movements were still a bit clumsy, but you'd get better on it in no time, he was sure. And you were doing pretty good work too. That was until you were stepping back, trying to deflect his now offensive movements, and tripped over yourself. You fell to the hard ground with an oof.
Luckily, with your equipment still intact, you couldn't be hurt that much. But Percy immediately dropped riptide and got to your side.
He knew it was stupid. You and him were both warriors, you were good with a bow, he was good with a sword. Both of you had been injured multiple times in different kinds of battles, and yours had been more grotesque than his more than once, so this was absolutely nothing. Still, he guessed, the instinct to worry would just stay the same.
"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, as he gently pulled you up to a sitting position. His forehead was creased together as he looked at you, but you were instead laughing, finding your recent incident funny. "What?" He asked, couldn't help but let a laugh, albeit confused, out of his lips too. Yours were charmingly infectious.
You pointed at your face, your bronze helmet askew, voice still laced with traces of mirth. "Tell me, how silly do I look?"
He smiled, affection swarmed him. "Very silly," Should he risk it? "So silly, it's borderline annoyingly cute actually." Okay, risking it then.
But you just smiled, either welcoming it or oblivious to the actual meaning behind it. Probably the latter. You wouldn’t be convinced someone actually liked liked you even if it was plastered on a billboard. You pointed at his face, and laughed again, this time with an effort of covering your mouth. "You look so silly too, I'm sorry."
He shook his hand, bringing out a breath of laughter, unable to keep his smile from growing further under the protective gear. "Hey," he said, finally taking off his helmet and letting the wind touch his face. "It was in solidarity with you as a friend! Please appreciate it."
"I do!" You took off your helmet, letting the glow of the sun kiss your face again. Percy couldn't help but be entranced with the way you looked, still perfect even with the destroying searing weather of June. You couldn't keep doing this to him. "Sorry, I'll stop." You promised as you withdrew a laugh, but he actually wished you wouldn't. He loved hearing you laughed, it made the wind that danced around him a melodic thing, one he could be around forever—or whatever it was the poets said.
Looking at you made him understand what they were always talking and raving about, but he could never explain it.
"So," You began, "About those cupcakes?"
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seresinhangmanjake · 6 months
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Jingle of The Bells
jake "hangman" seresin x reader
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Summary: Your little girl is worried her father won’t make it home for Christmas.
Notes/warnings: this is the same family from the Oh, Baby universe, but it stands alone as well :) Mostly Fluff, a dash of angst.
This is for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge (my word is Bells)
Words: 2386
Your daughter was so much like your husband. You’d say too much if not for the fact that you loved them deeply. But there came a lot with their similarities. Double doses of determination, wit, and control. So, not unlike your husband, your little girl wanted to be the one to call the shots. However, circumstances didn’t always allow for that, and in those cases, Eve struggled the most.
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“Mama, he’s supposed to be home!” 
Eve’s arms were wrapped tight around your neck as her wails echoed in your ear. You held on to her snuggly, her little legs tucked into the open space between your criss-crossed seated position on the floor. 
Until you’d joined her, she’d sat in the same spot all night, the teddy bear from her father settled in her lap as she stared at the front door. Despite the colored lights strung around your home, the pile of presents for her and her baby brother from Jake’s mother, grandmother, and team, and the cookies waiting to be decorated, Eve hadn’t moved. 
Every five minutes she would ask you the time, and each answer you gave her broke your heart right along with hers. She was too young to remember that Jake’s return schedule wasn’t always a guarantee. You were used to not making plans on the day you were originally told your husband would be coming home to you because promises in his line of work didn’t exist. There were no promises he would be gone only as long as he initially believed, no promises he would return on time, no promises he would return at all. But for so long Eve was spared all of that. The one time she remembered her father leaving, he did manage to come back when expected. She had never faced that disappointment. Until now. 
“Sweetie, it’s not Daddy’s fault,” you whispered. “I promise you he wants to be with us and that he’ll be home as soon as he can.”
“But it’s Christmas!”
Christmas Eve, actually, but to your daughter it was all the same. She had expectations. Cookie decorating, and milk pouring—a skill she’d asked Jake to help her perfect, not wanting to spill a drop for the reindeer. There was a letter she wanted to write to Santa, thanking him for bringing her Daddy home, which he had not, only adding to Eve’s bitterness. And it didn’t do her any good that before Jake left, she had also begged for a Christmas Eve pajama party where you all dressed in matching flannels, her baby brother included, and read a story before bed. 
Jake had done his best to promise those things to Eve, and in the same moment, with a single look at you, had silently communicated the very real possibility that none of it might happen. You knew it, expected it, and didn’t blame him for it, but it didn’t change that your little girl was in pain and her father wasn’t by her side to make it go away.
“I know. I know, Sweetie,” you said, gently rocking her back and forth. But your soothing could only be so effective, and for the night, she wouldn’t be able to take much more. “I think it’s time for bed now.”
“Why?” came out nasally, her crying having stuffed up her nose.
“Because you’ve been up for too long. You woke up hours earlier than you usually do and you didn’t take your nap today.”
She pulled her head back from the crook of your neck to look at you, and you wiped away the salty liquid from under her lashes. “But what about Daddy?”
“Daddy will be home soon. He’s just a little late, but that’s ok.”
“It is not.”
“It is, Sweetie,” you said, your own tears forming and beginning to blur your daughter’s face. “He’s trying so hard to be here, and that’s what matters.” When one of them fell, Eve’s finger rose to meet the droplet as it slowed its descent down your cheek. You grabbed her hand and rubbed the tear off her fingertip. “Come on, let’s go lay down.”
This time, with exhaustion setting in, she didn’t fight you, but she did wiggle from your hold to stand up on her own. Then she used the last of her energy to rush over to the coffee table where the small set of jingle bells she’d been dangling in front of her brother’s face to elicit his giggles was lying. Jake had bought her those bells last Christmas and immediately regretted bringing such incessant jingling into his home. 
Swallowing back your remaining tears, you watched as Eve wrapped her fingers around the velvet cord that kept the bells in a bunch before making her way into the hall and draping the cord over the knob of the front door. 
You nodded and stood. Her tears were not quite dried, and you knew she was desperate to keep her eyes on that door, but she still took your hand when you reached out for her. 
“I’ll tell you if I hear them,” you said before lifting her in your arms to carry her up to her room. 
---
In her weakened fight against sleep, Eve failed. When you finally had her tucked in her bed, passed out and releasing soft snores, you returned to the living room where you wrapped yourself up in a blanket and stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace. 
You did your best not to fall apart in front of your daughter, but Jake being gone ripped you to pieces as much as it did her. It didn’t help that his return was no less anxiety-inducing than his departure. The occasional unpredictability allowed your mind to wander to undesirable scenarios that, at this point, you knew weren’t likely, but the thought of them still terrified you. 
Jake was fine, though. You believed it, knew it. He was safe. The next person to open that door would be him, it was just a matter of when, and hoping it would be before the holiday was over. 
---
The clock had reached midnight only a handful of minutes before your eyelids grew heavy and begged to close. You fought sleep but, much like your daughter, reached your limit and succumbed. The consistent crackling of the fire combined with the warmth of the blanket lulled you slowly but effectively. It was too quiet and peaceful to resist, until a jingle clanged against another jingle which together thumped against something thick and solid. 
Your body jolted as you heard a muttered “Why so damn loud?”
“Jake?” you called, tossing the blanket aside and running toward the door. He barely had his duffle on the floor and his key out of the lock when you slammed into him. 
His arms were around you in an instant, slightly lifting you off the ground as his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. “God, you feel good,” was muffled in his deep voice, vibrating against your skin. His arms tightened. “So good.”
Your feet met the floor again, and with your hands on his cheeks, you guided his head back so you could press your lips to his. Your moan greeted his. Then you sighed into the kiss and melted further into his hold. No matter how many times you said goodbye, you were always relieved to find him the same as when he left. The feel of him, the taste of him, the chills you got when his hands wove into your hair—he never returned as anyone other than your Jake. 
He gave you two more pecks, then one final long kiss before he broke it to breathe, allowing his forehead to rest against yours while his chest expanded and deflated and expanded again to take in the air you’d stolen. “I missed you, Honey.”
A tear forged a cold trail down the flush of your cheek and slipped into the seam of your lips. “I missed you, too.”
Jake pressed a kiss to your forehead before meeting your eyes. “How are the kids?”
“Needing you,” you said as he wiped away the wet river from your skin. “Eve thought you weren’t going to make it home in time.”
Knowing your husband, it took only the barest of shifts in his stance, his brow, his eyes, for you to see his heart was breaking right along with Eve’s. He turned his head toward the staircase that led to the bedrooms of your home, his daughter’s in particular.
Inching up on your toes, you softly kissed the line of his jaw and, somehow, for the first time, noticed he had a little bit of stubble. His last day or two must have been exhausting if he hadn’t gotten a chance to shave. Likely, everyone was in such a rush to get home to their families that some basic rules went out the window. Your kiss traveled up to his cheek. 
“It’s ok, baby,” you whispered. “You’re with us now.”
“Did she cry?”
“She’ll forget all about it when she sees your face.”
Jake lightly hummed, unsatisfied with the state he’d forced upon his daughter. Without letting another beat pass, he took your hand, led you to your daughter's room, and eased her door open. 
The glow emitting from Eve’s new plane nightlight—an early Christmas gift the Daggers had sent from overseas—highlighted her sleeping face, and her delicate features were so peaceful you’d never have known she was devastated a few hours prior.
When you had let her open the gift from the team, you of course told her who it was from right away with a huge smile splitting your face. She was so excited as she pulled at the bow and shredded the paper that she laughed louder than you had heard in quite some time. Her eyes went wide and she hopped up on her feet to fly the plane around the room. She giddily showed her infant brother—who received his own nightlight in the form of a train so the gifts would be unique to each child—before she plopped down on the carpet in your living room to examine every detail of the elaborately designed light. 
And then she began to sob. 
She sobbed for missing her daddy and aunts and uncles; for missing the many times Jake had taken his family to see the planes he flew, which closely matched the shape of Eve’s gift. She sobbed until you took her upstairs for bed, helped her plug in the light, and told her a story of her daddy seeing that plane and that train and immediately thinking of his baby girl and little boy. 
That was only three weeks ago, and Eve’s angst had grown with the passing days. But the little light helped her rest at night as long as she completed her ritual of crouching down in front of the radiating glow and whispering a soft “goodnight Daddy” before settling into bed. 
It did help for a while, but it didn’t cease the daily return of her tears. And this night, fairly so, was by far the worst. Her disappointment made the light its least effective since she’d received it. 
Jake stepped into the room and took a seat at the edge of her bed. “I shouldn’t wake her,” he said as he brushed a blonde curl out of her face. From that light touch, Eve stirred, but then she stilled again, releasing a soft breath.
Your husband sighed right along with her. You knew how badly he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight. He needed that. He could see her in front of him, and from those inhales and exhales, could hear her, and he could feel the soft curls of her hair, but nothing compared to feeling her little heartbeat beating against his, or hearing her sweet voice, or seeing her bright smile. That he’d have to wait for morning to truly greet his daughter after months away was an ache you would never know. Yes, you ached for him when he was gone, and you knew he did for you, but it just wasn’t the same. This was his child, a piece of him that he’d gone without for so long. It was a powerless feeling. She was right there, but being the father he was, Jake wouldn’t disturb her for his own sake. 
Carefully, Jake leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”
Your lips curved into a smile. “Would you like to go see our son?” Another one of his children that he’d undoubtedly refuse to disturb, no matter how much he wanted to see the little pair of eyes that matched yours staring up at him. 
Jake nodded, gently squeezing Eve’s tiny hand. He was about to stand when you both heard a soft, “Daddy?”
Your heads whipped in Eve’s direction to find her fists rubbing at her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered as her vision adjusted to the darkness, but when she saw the darkened figure sitting by her side, Eve didn’t second guess herself. She kicked at her covers and leapt across the bed with the speed and agility of a bunny rabbit. 
“Daddy!” 
Jake chuckled as he caught her. “Hi, baby girl.”
Little hands reached up to his face to verify his realness. They ran up and down the scruff she’d rarely ever seen, making Jake’s cheeks contort in funny shapes, and then she grinned. “You came home.”
You couldn’t see all of Jake’s face, but you heard his sniffle as he tugged your daughter closer to his chest. “Of course, I did.”
“Mama said you would.”
“Well, Mama’s usually right, isn’t she?” he said, turning to look at you and confirming the redness that was brightening the green of his irises. He winked before returning his attention to his daughter.
Eve nodded vigorously then threw her arms around his neck, squeezing with all of her might. “I like Santa again.”
“When didn’t you like Santa?” Jake asked as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.
Eve pulled back. Her smile was still in place as she patted the tops of his shoulders with both hands. “Today," she said. "But you are home so he’s ok.”
---
A/N: so i have another christmas challenge fic coming that is Rooster x reader, which is my very first Rooster fic so hopefully I do alright. Then my focus will be on The One I Want and some Thorn (Expendables 3) fics :)
tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @eloquentdreamer @jessicab91 @rosedurin @novagreen04 @memeorydotcom @purplevortexx @sgt-barnesveins @books-are-escapes
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azulock · 4 months
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so I wanna requests the guys as dads, I remember at some point you said you wanted to do something like this and I really wanna see it
Time to rull up my sleeves, cause I did say I was gonna do one of those right? Back when I got annoyed that all I found was girl dad this girl dad that and I got tired of all the typical gendering going on in dad fics.
Ryusei Shidou
Girl dad in the most chaotic way possible. Tiaras coexist with bows and arrows as a princess fights off an invasion. Every doll and plushie has a tattoo made either with a sharpie or from a patch attached with hot glue. Every tea time is a mafia family meeting that always involves an assassination plot. And the barbies live very intense lives that inevitably delve into wrestling like storylines where each one has a gimmick, a long standing feud, and a clear thirst for blood.
Chaos may not be the best thing to keep an organized home, but it's good for mental development. And much like a kid, Shidou also thrives in creative chaos. He isn't the best at practical things, especially the ones involving routine and quiet time, but he has got his uses. Very good at wasting his daughter's energy until she drops straight into a deep sleep. His antics are also good at convincing her to eat pretty much anything. And of course, great at entertaining her so you can take a break.
Oliver Aiku
Boy dad but like he really doesn't care, he'd be giving the same extremely affectionate, and even a bit clingy, treatment to his kid no matter the gender - sugary sweet nicknames included. Probably heard people saying he coddles his son too much, treating him like a princess, but Oliver is good at playing deaf. Tho, that kid gonna have to fight for the right to have his feet touching the ground, cause dad wants to carry his offspring everywhere. Sure to raise a boy as clingy and openly affectionate as him.
Those reflexes honed for football are quite good at catching a kid before an ugly fall. And he's actually good at the general everyday stuff, surprisingly patient too. Takes a genuine interest in the things his son likes, so when the boy shows sudden interest in colorful nail polish, he'll show up to a match with badly painted soft purple nails. Likes sleeping on the floor with his boy, when asked why the floor and not the bed he brings up the old man excuse of "the floor is good for my back".
Reo Mikage
Girl dad and he was ready for a little princess, but what he got was more of a cave dwelling gremlin. He was expecting frilly dresses and tea time but he gets a little girl who likes bugs, playing in the mud and digging things from the ground. It hits him as a surprise but he adapts to that, and as much as he isn't very excited for the cleanup afterward, he is always eager to entertain his girl's odd interests. If buying dinosaur fossils weren't such a legal can of worms he'd buy one just to bury it for her to dig up.
If he wasn't convinced to go to therapy before, now is the moment to convince him. Just gotta say he should do it not to become like his dad and he's gonna be booking the appointment fast. Will be reading child pedagogy books and shit like that to make sure he can be a good and understanding dad. Really just trying to kill his family's trauma conga line at himself - wants his daughter to trust and count on him in the way he never could with his dad.
Michael Kaiser
Boy dad but to the gentlest, sweetest of souls, a little boy who seems to have absolutely nothing in common with his dad, aside from some physical traits. It at the same time shocks and scares him, because the world out there is not kind to sweet people. But while the boy is at home, Kaiser can keep him safe. It does frustrate him a little bit when he tries to get his son into football but the boy is more into art than sports, but he learns to move past that. Truth is, he wanted the boy to mirror his traits a bit more, so this is a humbling experience.
That poor rose tattoo of his does not see a day of peace after his son learned to color. Tho, Kaiser gets used to the shaky new roses drawn on his skin fair enough. And he actually considers getting a full tattoo of just lineart and not colors just to let the boy color in. He's not the most patient so he has a bit of a hard time getting used to the whole parenting thing, but he does try his best. Also, whenever he takes his son out somewhere he makes their clothes match in color scheme.
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horrorartsworld · 4 months
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Alastor helping lover with addiction,such as smoking and drinking?
thank you lovely nonnie for this prompt!! ♡
this is a very heavy topic to write about so going forward i hope this doesn’t trigger anyone in anyway as to i’m kind of new when it comes to writing about something as serious as addiction and drugs. so sorry if this is confusing at all or cheesy! as it is also my number one priority to satisfy my babies and not to scare you in anyway so please be mindful of the warnings!!
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an angel with clipped wings
alastor/recovering addict f!reader
warnings: drug and alcohol abuse, mentions of drugs, addiction, angst, with a big fluffy ending and caring alastor
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Ever since you were alive you never were the best at keeping away from the hard stuff.
It was always magnetized to you, though you’d never turn down an offer if made.
Which is why you now reside in Hell.
Though you were lucky to stumble upon the Hazbin Hotel, a residence for rehabilitation of sinners and you were all for it!
Meeting many friends and even your lover, but that temptation in the back of your mind never stopped calling.
Every time you’d stand next to Husk’s bar or when Angel brought up old drug dealers he knew, and you’d always have that little voice in the back of your mind telling you to pursue your old ways.
And one day you did. Hitting up the man Angel had suggested during one of his stories and getting just what you needed. Heroin, Ecstasy, Coke, whatever you could manage. Along with some booze from Husk’s bar.
You smuggle it all to your shared bedroom where you started inhaling the coke off a magazine then downed the feeling down with some whiskey before hitting something else and then doing it again in a repeat cycle till you laid back and watched as the ceiling above you started to spin until you blacked out completely.
————————
“Darling are you here?” Alastor came to check on you since it had been a while since you came down and mingled with everyone. Flicking on the light as his heart instantly sank.
“Mon cher-“ the static in his voice seems to run cold as he sees you crumpled up on the floor amongst bottles and different kinds of drugs.
His hands twitching as his microphone falls to the floor, he flashes over within an instant to your body picking up all your pieces as he delicately runs his hand along your pale colored cheek.
You blink slowly up at him, mouth dry as your head was still spinning from it all, your body numb.
“What have you done?” He whispers softly now feeling your forehead as you started to burn up as you seemed to be coming down.
As you struggled to not slosh your words or try not to throw up, he didn’t bother waiting for your explanation as he scooped you up bringing you to the bathroom and setting you down on the toilet as he started to run a bath for you.
He then walks out of the bathroom as the water pours into the tub the sound of it seemed to sooth you as you struggled to keep your head up straight attempting to rest it against the counter next to the toilet.
Alastor had taken off his coat rolling up his sleeves as he discarded any bottles or remnants of drugs in the room and having one of his shadows take it far away from the hotel as possible. Though he couldn’t help as he looked down at an old whiskey bottle amongst his foot on the floor that was one of his favorites when he was living seeing as there was a few remains he took a sip and threw the rest away before running a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t smiling all the time right now he’d have the look of both defeat and sadness as he hated seeing you like this and he loved you too much to let you continue this route you were on.
He walks back into the bathroom seeing as you had your eyes closed resting your head against the counter. Quickly turning the water off so i wouldn’t overflow and then lightly caressing your face.
“Darling..the bath is ready for you~” He mutters softly hoping you’d at least wake up.
Your eyes hazy as you blink softly at him. His lips giving a soft kiss to your forehead before he spoke once more, “Can you get in the bath for me?”
Nodding slowly so you didn’t start the dizzy spells again he motions for you to lift your arms as he started to undress you.
Once he fully undressed you he set you down gently into it, the warm water enveloping your legs in its comfort as you wadded in it. Alastor sitting on the edge as he watched you lay back and relax. He went to get up but a slosh from the bath and your delicate grip on his wrist stopped him dead in his tracks. “P-please don’t leave me…”
Alastor never left your side for the rest of that night and the ones after that as he wanted to make sure you were okay and that you were never alone.
You rest your head against his chest as he started to hum a soft tune as he held you.
“Thank you Alastor” you muster out softly looking up at him to show him your sincerity.
“Oh? whatever for my dear?” his tone hushed along with yours as the static was humming in his voice as he spoke.
“For saving me…i don’t know what i would do without you.” tears starting to form in your eyes making Alastor sit up a little as his thumb tries to catch them before they fall.
“My love i’d save you a thousand times, but you have to promise me you’ll never give me a scare like that again…”
“I-I promise, i-i’ll never do that again~” your voice shaky as you try not to sob, Alastor pulls you closer as you then completely combust into tears, placing you right on his lap curled up in a ball as he softly shushes you while rubbing your back till you finally fall asleep in his arms. “I know you won’t my dear, I know you won’t~”
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shirefantasies · 6 months
Text
How the Fellowship Act Around Their Crush (GN!Reader)
Hello friends! Kicking off my blog with some cute headcanons for my favorite people- hope you enjoy 😄
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Aragorn
✧ One of the least obvious for sure 😅 we love a strong silent type but unfortunately that means you’ll have to be reading in on his actions
✧ Checks in on you a lot, just making sure you’re feeling alright and not hiding any burdens because he wants to carry those.
✧ Teaches you all he knows about the world’s botany when he notices your curiosity, pointing out what plants are poisonous, which the elves use for healing, and which can be made into tea. Snags a few to make you said tea at the earliest convenience 😌
✧ Will be the one to drape his cloak over you if you get cold. Not the type to stop others from doing it, but boy will he be the fastest by far!
✧ Has the habit of letting his fingers linger over yours just a bit longer than necessary when he hands things off to you or presses small items into your hands.
✧ Is the best with his words. He’ll reassure you if you feel insecure that you have a strength and beauty you bring to this world that no one else does, that the time you are in does not define you as a whole, that all have roles to play here.
Legolas
✧ Least obvious part 2! Another who is more silent about things…at least at first! If you understand Elvish, you may catch him searching for advice from Aragorn on if he should speak of it or not.
✧ Almost always defers to your word/opinion whether it’s where to stop or simply how you’d like to spend the rest of the evening.
✧ Shows off just a smidge 🤏🏻 when he knows you’re looking, like no, he doesn’t have to impale three orcs with the same arrow three different ways but did you think it was cool? Then yes he did. Still his face colors with surprised, joy, and amusement when you react with awe.
✧ “Wow, beautiful,” you breathe as your eyes scan the stars, glittering constellations and distant galaxies winking above you. “Indeed,” Legolas responds softly, but if you happen to peer at him from the peripheries of your vision at just the right time you’ll see the glance he surreptitiously slides to you.
✧ Holds open every door for you, slides back every chair, serves you at every meal, like this prince is peak gentleman and nothing less!
✧ Whispers joking observations about the rest of the fellowship, especially Gimli, that he usually keeps to himself into your ear as you sit together during mealtimes. This creates a whole slew of inside jokes between you two and much confusion over what you could possibly be laughing at.
Boromir
✧ Not over-the-top, but he figures what’s the point if you never figure anything out? Definitely wants to drop hints for you 😌
✧ Places a kiss to the back of your hand when he first meets you, telling you it is truly an honor.
✧ “Here, allow me,” he’ll say as he gently takes whatever burden you bear whether it’s bundles of firewood or even your bag on a particular rough day of travel.
✧ Happily shares tales of Gondor’s splendor with you and insists he’ll take you there and show you himself someday. Asks in turn for stories of your home and all your favorite things about it. Even if he can never visit, Boromir is determined to find a way to bring a piece of your home to you someday- anything to make you feel like you’re there again.
✧ Offers you his arm when you two walk side-by-side, guiding you with a firm, warm grip that keeps you feeling secure.
✧ Always places himself between you and danger, stepping in front of you with his sword and shield in hands and even shifting you back with a hand upon your waist.
Gimli
✧ You’re going to figure it out pretty quickly. He’e comically vocal as we all know, but also incredibly smooth when he wants to be…and boy does he want to be 👀
✧ Drops a lot of hints about how dwarves are the warmest, heartiest lovers and best providing partners! “We’ve the grandest of halls and sturdiest of bodies, after all!”
✧ Literally always has your back, like he is more aware of any threats to you than you are. It’s nearly impossible to count how many times he’s slashed an orc you hadn’t even seen off your back, giving you a triumphant nod and an “Anytime, Lassie/Laddie!”
✧ Laughs at every single joke you tell so hard you can’t help but puff up in pride at your sense of humor, nudging your shoulder with his.
✧ “Oh, stay still, you’ve got something in your hair…” Proceeds to remove it in the most tender and intimate manner you’ve ever experienced.
✧ Asks you to look him in the eyes before a big fight because, in his words, if that’s the last thing he looks upon before going out it’ll all be worth it.
Frodo
✧ Has no idea what he is doing honestly. Has never felt this way before and wasn’t sure if he ever would, so his demeanor around you suddenly becomes shy, almost withdrawn.
✧ Your self-appointed nurse. Tends your wounds silently but with the most caring, gentle touch and gaze fluttering back and forth between your wound and your expression with those big blue eyes.
✧ Goes on walks every now and again when everybody’s camped. After a while of seeing you watch him off, Frodo plucks up the courage to invite you to join him on one.
✧ Embarrassed as he is at first, he is encouraged by your eager eyes when you ask what he’s reading, shyly admitting it’s some poetry he loves. Ends up reciting you the whole thing, looking into your eyes intently as he wishes to actually be confessing each of those flowery words.
✧ Grabs your hand to lead you places whenever he finds something you just have to see! Blushes about it after the fact but in the moment the excitement just takes over him and he doesn’t even think about it.
✧ Begins sharing concerns and deeper thoughts with you once he trusts you as a sort of sign of that feeling. He hopes you understand that he doesn’t disclose to just anyone.
Sam
✧ He wants to talk to you so bad, but also you’re the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen and how does he do that??? So sweet and attentive with his gaze when you do talk, so that could clue you in.
✧ He definitely gives you the biggest and best of anything he prepares, smiling softly at you as he dishes it up!
✧ Offers to tell you stories of The Shire, especially if you’ve never visited it yourself, and you can see the love for it in his eyes as much as you can hear it in his voice. Shares a few about his old Gaffer, too!
✧ Trips over his words from time to time. He’ll accidentally say the wrong thing and nervously try to laugh it off not realizing how adorable he looks when he blushes ☺️
✧ Sees a pretty flower on the road and immediately thinks of you, plucking it up and twirling it thoughtfully before extending it your way gently, naming his discovery as he does so.
✧ Would give you the shirt off his back if you wanted or needed. Offers you things from his bags a lot ranging from supplies that can ease your passage on this trip to the last of the sweets from The Shire he’d thrown in his pack pockets. Any task you don’t want to do Sam is jumping up to do for you!
Merry
✧ Medium obvious because he makes it his mission to get close to you and hype you up. If you’re oblivious or cynical it could be mistaken as him just being friendly, but it can’t come as a shock the way he’s so eager for your presence!
✧ Acts like you being amazing at things you’ve never even done is a foregone conclusion, like it could be your first time firing with a bow and he’ll be telling everyone what a natural you’ll be, urging you to go on and show them!
✧ Faintly embodies the old adage ‘if they tease you, that means they like you’. He sometimes makes up stories to see if you believe him, chuckling merrily when you do but quickly giving up the ghost again so you don’t have the wrong idea. Others he’ll just poke fun at things you say and egg all of your jokes on, too!
✧ Winks at you on the off time you two make eye contact with each other.
✧ Holds out his hand to you and gives a small bow every time he invites you to dance, asking if he may have it with a devilishly charming grin before he pulls you close.
✧ Whisks you away when he wants you to himself, taking you on a sightseeing adventure or even just foraging. Turns it into an over-the-top skit of him searching and protecting you from the threats of the forest that has you giggling!
Pippin
✧ Oh, you’ll be able to tell! He tries his best to be smooth and is super complimentary and generally wants to be around you 25/8. Even if it comes across goofy, you have to give him props for being forward with his intentions 😌
✧ Practically jumps out of his seat to be the one to help you with anything, whether it’s going fishing, gathering berries or firewood, getting some training in…you name it, he wants to be there for you if you need him!
✧ You may catch him staring at you, whether it’s in awe of your beauty or just straight-up checking you out depends on his mood, but his eyes are almost always flicking back to you in idleness.
✧ Remembers every single detail you share about yourself, like EVERY SINGLE ONE. Knows all your preferences by heart and frequently suggests playing your favorite game or offering to sing your favorite song, likely with an invitation to dance too! Pippin will chime in about your dislikes or allergies before even you can.
✧ Casually begins breaking touch barriers with small gestures like putting a hand on your shoulder during a mock apology for his cousin’s behavior or sitting with your arms brushing. If you don’t seem to mind, he’ll get bolder, slinging an arm over your shoulders during a jolly moment!
✧ Not afraid of compliments, definitely not! Unabashedly (well, mostly anyway, he hides a blush well) tells you that color looks great on you or what a pretty face you’ve got just in casual conversation.
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cecilioque · 1 year
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The Submas Designs are a lot more clever than you thought.
First lets look at the Submas overall design.  We know that the original design was intended to make the Subway Bosses look like clowns and kind of creepy (that backfired); hence the comically large shoes and exaggerated expressions. Let’s start to break down each part of the design. 
To begin, The Submas extreme expressions are a possible reference to the symbol of theatre; the mask of Tragedy and the Mask of Comedy.  The mask of tragedy is commonly portrayed frowning ( not necessarily cry) on a black base mask while the mask of Comedy is portrayed smiling on a white base masks. Sometimes these masks are gold or split black and white color.  The masks together represent the two extremes of the human psyche. Definitely the contrast we see between Emmet's smile and Ingo’s frown.
Next up, the coats.  These are obviously designed to look like train tracks.  The vertical grey lines representing the rails, the red brown the tie (the wood connecting the rails), and the buttons are the spikes that secure the track.  You can see the pattern best on the back of the Submas coat.  Looking at it you could laugh and say “I guess that makes the Subway boss themselves the train”, and you know what? You’re right.
This brings us to the most interesting part of their design, the color and pose.  Yes, there is an explanation to the silly pose too.  It’s so silly that we can just brush this whole design off as being another funny Pokemon character design; but unfortunately it’s actually thought out.  
The Submas themselves are the New York Subway. Or at least they are the personified version of it.  Let’s look at the colors again.  Black and White.  Very fitting for a game literally called Pokemon Black and White.  That alone brings us to some interesting comparisons with the game themes and pokemon.
Kudari or (Emmet in the English version) wears all white. He values routine and rules and is ultimately pretty point blank.  We can easily make that conclusion that  Emmet represents Reshiram and truth. If we break down his name we see that in Japanese it means something along the lines of “down train” or moving away/going down hill.  The different translations usually mean the same, except the name “Emmet” is a bit out of place.  A lot of people say the Submas names in English are most likely to be puns of “Ingoing and Emitting”.  But my crazy self did more digging and found that Emmet means “truth” specifically universal truth.  This name goes back to old German, Irish, and even Hebrew. All looping back to Reshiram and themes of the game. (On a funny side note, Emmet is also the Cornish word for ant; so Emmet having a Durant is really funny. ) 
Next up is Nobori or Ingo who wears a black coat and appears frowning. Despite that , his is very encouraging and excited about moving forward. This makes sense since the name Nobori in Japanese more or less means to move up/forward ( specifically up a mountain).  That’s why a lot of people believe that the poor man was eebie deebied for the pun because Warden Ingo works on Mt. Coronet. In English, Ingo is thought to be a shortened version of “Ingoing” which also aligns with not only the Japanese name but the character’s reoccurring theme of progress, moving forward, and ideals. In this sense Ingo very much represents Zekrom and ideals. 
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Truth and ideals, Reshiram and Zekrom, Tragedy and comedy, white and Black.  All very good interpretations and symbolism for two funny train men. I would be satisfied with just knowing that, but no; the Submas are also a funny gijinka of the New York Subway.  This is the part the has me laughing at how simple it is and yet we just easily accepted that they were just a bit strange.
Take a look at this. This is a Zebra Board.  
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Yep, it’s black and white. And do you know what? This MTA sign only appears in the New York subway.  What does it do?  These are used by conductors to indicate safety and that the train has lined up in the station. Every time the subway comes into the station, the conductor has to physically point at this board/bar to indicate that it is safe for the doors to open. The action is called "point and call" or "point and acknowledge".  This practice is used in a few other train/subway stations (such as Japan), but the black and white board is New York specific. The pose of the submas suddenly makes a lot of sense.
Other Important notes observations.
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The Submas face represents the front of the train.  So their eyes are the lights (hence Ingos glowing eyes in PLA), their side burns are cow catchers ( see graphic), and the Medalion on the hat is round like a train number plate.  Another interesting thing is that the Submas use airline Captain Pilot hats like Japanese train conductors use.  The only part of their outfit that confuses me is the arm bands.  This is more of a police uniform element and not a train conductor thing.
so to conclude, the Submas are basically a reference to in game themes, Reshiram/Zekrom, Trains, and literally the New York subway
I am not an expert. These are just my observations. I could be completely wrong.  Take and add what you would like to.  If you have more to add about the design, feel free to reblog that info. I would also like to see your interpretation.
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chastiefoul · 1 year
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Hello!! I just done reading your "this thing is heavy, can you hold it for me" work.
Can you do another one byt with other characters? Like: Beidou, Kaeya, and Ayato??
THANK YOU SO MUCH IN ADVANCE!!!
genshin characters react to "this thing is heavy, can you hold it for me?" but you held their hand instead pt. 2!!
part 1
a/n: i'm sorry this took months!!!
characters: ayato, beidou, kaeya, gorou, alhaitham, and tighnari
Ayato
“oh? you can just ask one of my retainer dear, i’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” he shot you down quickly with that one and you weren’t sure how to bounce back. perhaps another time then. “o-on a second thought i can just carry it myself.” you couldn’t help but feel disappointed for a second until a familiar gloved hand belonged to your lover engulfed your hand as ayato continued to walk. you smiled happily as you thought that either way you had ended up where you wanted to be even when the male beside you didn’t realize what you were doing.
until you saw him looking at the other way, quietly laughing to himself.
he knew. of course he knew!
Beidou
“not a problem, give it here!” she said as she gave her full attention to you that you almost feel bad when you went put your empty hand on hers. though that did not last long at all when you witness her wide grin already putting the pieces in her mind, as she laughed. “quite the treasure you have here, you sure wanna trust me on holding it?” she says cheerily, going along with you in the best possible way. “yes!” you claimed happily, “well then you can count on me,” she laughs, intertwining her hand with yours, leading you to her ship for yet another fun ride.
Kaeya
“interesting, what could possibly be so heavy yet so small that you have a problem carrying it around?” he smiles as he inspects, grabbing your fist and moving it around up and down. considering how sharp he is, you already knew this was gonna be a total bust the moment you started it, he probably was just pretending for the fun of it. you pouted, retracting your hand to your side.
“it wouldn’t hurt to play along once you know, mr knight?” you said in a joking manner. he only chuckled and raised an eyebrow, “giving up so easily?”  you, having nothing to retort against that only rolled your eyes. then he says again, “it’s not that i didn’t like it, i just prefer a more straight-forward tactic?” he says, grabbing your hand and brought it close to his lips as he planted a kiss there. “that’s rich coming from a man who often speaks in riddles.” you laughed, the gesture cheered you nonetheless.
Gorou
“what is it?” he says as he peers closely, already having a hand out. “come here, bring your palm closer,” you say, he obliged without any hesitation. so curious and so trusting. hook, line, and sinker. easily like that, you have captured his hand completely. you turned while giving his hand a good squeeze, wanting to see his expression, but he just looked like his entire system just shut down, until suddenly a color of pink painted his cheeks in more than a nice way. “to be using underhanded tactic like that...” he trailed off, flustered. “you don’t like it?” you asked, while smiling mischievously. a second look on his wagging tail was all it took to know the answer.
 “you already know i do...”
Alhaitham
he sighed deeply, knowing what’s gonna come if he didn’t play along to your random antics. he held out his hand, and you intertwined your hand with his. he expected a prank or some sort, but he certainly didn’t expect this. the simple act somehow made the man’s heart fluttered. he went quiet, not really giving an obvious reaction but you could tell by his soft smile he liked it. 
“you look pleased,” you teased. “i am,” he said bluntly, giving your hand a squeeze.
Tighnari
he immediately went on and on lecturing you to not overpack and only bring stuff you’re capable of holding, before ending it with a sigh. “give it here,” he said as you held his hand instead. the bow-wielder was stunned for a moment before putting it all together. he smiled, shooking his head in wonderment. “and you just let me went on and on like that? tell me was this worth it?” he raised an eyebrow. “mhm. i quite like your lectures.” you just giggled looking at the defeated expression on his face.
“yeah? then tell me why did you almost eat a poisonous mushroom mere minutes ago, did i not tell you all about it yesterday?” he crossed his arms.
“...for research purposes?”
“i keep telling you that’s not how it works-“
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Text
Corruption fic - Second Preview
Next preview is here! This is for all the night owls like me! I won't put a warning for this one either but there is one sentence that's very risqué!
You started to bawl as you clung to Lucifer for support. Immediately, he rushed you over to the couch and sat you down next to him, letting you cry into the crook of his neck.
"Hey, hey, shh," Lucifer soothed. "It's alright. Alastor won't bother you anymore, I'll make sure of it."
"It's n-not him," you sniffled, "it's everything! Al-stor's right, there's no savin' me."
Lucifer pulled you away from him, placing a hand under your chin as he looked into your glassy eyes. "Now what makes you say that?"
Another tear rolled down your face. "Is like he said, what I was taught up there…nothing's true! Welllll, except…" you placed your hand over the one holding your face tenderly. "Theeeyyyyy did say that you, Luciferrrr, were heaven's prettiest angel. They def-liny didn't lie about that!"
You noticed a small blush creep across Lucifer's face at your words. He pulled his and away from your face to clear his throat, glancing away from you. "T-Thank you. That's umm, very kind of you."
You chuckled to yourself, scootching your body closer him. "Do you mind if I *hic*, lay down, jus' for a sec. Gettin' sleepy.
"Yeah, of course!" Lucifer smiled, but only for a moment. "W-Wait, hold on!"
But by the time he tried to warn you, your head had already fallen into his lap. You smiled up at the flustered man and chuckled, the heat returning to your face once more. "You got soft legs, hehe!"
Lucifer inhaled sharply. "Husk was right, you really are drunk. Wouldn't you feel more comfortable laying your head on a pillow?"
"Nnnnope!" you replied.
"Alright then," the king breathed and massaged the back of his neck, doing his best to hide how tense he'd become from your sudden closeness.
"H-Hey," you called up to him, "why'd youuu…why'd you protect me jus' now? From Al-stor. You *hic* didn't have to…"
He looked down at you softly, brushing away the hair that had fallen into your face. "I don't like bullies. You didn't deserve that, and Alastor knows that for his sake that he shouldn't get on my bad side."
"Never seen you so mad." you mumbled.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he apologized, continuing to play with you hair. "I don't like bringing out that side of me. But Alastor really likes to push his luck for some bizarre reason."
"Awww," you pouted, "is too bad. I liked seeing that side of ya. It was HOT!"
Lucifer stopped his movements completely. “I-I’m sorry?”
“You heard me,” you responded poking at his chest. “What? Did ya think jus’ cuz I was a believer when I was alive that I’d be SCARED of ya? Maybe at first. Not anymore! I’m already in Hell soooo there’s no point in hidin’ it, is there?”
“Hiding what, exactly?” Lucifer gulped as if he was almost too afraid to ask.
You giggles and hid your face with your hands. “Noooo, you’re jus’ gonna laugh at meeee!”
Lucifer let out an amused hum. He gently took ahold of your wrists and lowered your hands away from your now completely beet-colored face. “I promise I won’t laugh at you, my dear. You’ve very much piqued my curiosity! And I’m very good at keeping secrets, you know! So please, let me keep yours.” He let go of your wrists, letting your hands fall onto your chest. You watched as he leaned closer to you, his half lidded eyes piercing your very soul. “Won’t you tell me, my sweet angel?”
"I…*hic* I umm…" you babbled. It was clear that you were struggling to answer.
"Mind if I take a guess?" Lucifer offered as he went back to playing with your loose locks of hair. "Is it possible that you have a little crush on-"
"I WAN' YOU TO FUCK ME STUPID TILL I CAN'T 'MEMBER MY NAME!" you blurted out without any reservations.
"-me…" Lucifer froze at your confession. You could hear the sound of a pin drop with the deafening silence that now filled the air. With a big inhale, he straightened his back fully, placing both of his hands under you in a flash, not daring to look down at you. "Well, I-I think it's about time we got you to bed!" he nearly shouted as he scooped you up in his arms and stood up faster than normal.
You let out a small squeak of surprise with his sudden motion. With a snap of his fingers, a portal appeared next to you and he quickly carried you across the threshold and into your dimly lit room. With a flick of his wrist, your bedsheets were undone and Lucifer was able to lay you down gently onto your mattress. He reached over you to grab your undone comforter and pulled it on top of you, covering everything but your head.
"Okay! Uhh, s-sleep well!" Lucifer went to run through the portal, but not before you were able to grab his sleeve.
"D-Did I upset you?" you asked nearly on the verge of tears again? Lucifer still hadn't looked at you.
"N-No! No, angel, you didn't upset me!" he tried to sooth you, but you weren't buying it. You couldn't stop more tears running down your face. When Lucifer heard your quiet cries, he finally turned towards you in a state of sheer panic. "Ahh, no!" He kneeled down next to you, wiping your tears away with his free hand. "Please don't cry! I promise I'm not upset!"
"Knew it was stupid…," you sobbed, "shouldn't have told you…"
"Don't say that," the fallen angel cooed. "Okay, okay, look…If uhh, we're admitting things right now, I might as well too. Would that make you feel better?"
You sniffled a bit. "M-Maybe…"
Lucifer shut his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "I've had…similar feelings…about you, that is. So…no more tears, okay?"
You stared at the man before you, completely and utterly baffled by what you had just heard. "R-Really?"
"Yes," he whispered. "But we can talk about this tomorrow, yeah? You need some sleep, it looks like you're about to pass out."
He was right. Your eyelids felt as though they could give out at any moment, and the warmth from your blanket wasn't helping you stay conscious either. As Lucifer stood up, you still clung to his sleeve like your life depended on it. "Stay?" you almost begged.
He smiled weakly, taking your hand from his sleeve and placing a small peck on the back of it. "Not tonight," he responded. "Sleep now, darling. I'll see you when you wake." You couldn't find the strength to respond, letting yourself drift off to sleep as Lucifer left you to dream.
Little did you know that he had disappeared to take a very cold shower.
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seullovesme · 1 month
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fevers and flowers w/ bae irene
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i love irene, my cutie patootie pie☹️☹️☹️
pairing ⥬ irene x sick!reader
request ⥬ IRENE AND SICK GF READER DRABBLE PLEEK 😭
easy - mac ayres
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irene made it a tradition to bring you at least one flower every time she visited, and she really stuck to it. she could only come so often with her busy schedule, so you made sure to take the best care of each precious flower so that she could come to a colorful arrangement filled with her gifts.
typing in your passcode into the lock, she entered the house as quiet as possible, hoping to surprise you. she immediately dashed to your flower vase with a big grin, excited to see her "pretty babies", as she liked to call them.
but to her own surprise, they were looking quite limp and dull. she frowned, knowing you would never let them reach a state like this. irene switched out the water and tried her best to care for them, saddened by their appearance. they seemed sad too.
once she was finished, irene did not pause before going to find you. pushing open your room door, she realized why the flowers were so down. their mother was sick!
you groaned as the light from the hall shined into your room, the brightness hurting your head like crazy. irene furrow her brows and climbed onto your bed, sitting beside you. she pressed the back of her hand against your forehead and felt how hot you were. despite being almost as hot as the sun, you were shivering like crazy under your thick blanket. you leaned into irene's touch and hummed, finding comfort in the touch of your girlfriend.
the sight was stressing bae joohyun out. you should've called! or at least messaged saying that you were so unwell. as she left the room, you whined, missing her already. not even a minute later, she returned with a bowl of cool water and a towel. soaking it first, she placed the towel onto your head while stroking your cheek lovingly.
"you silly girl, why didn't you say anything? i would've been here much sooner..."
you smiled at her sweet words, touched by the love of your girlfriend once again. there was never a day where irene forgot to show you how much she loved you. through her gift of flowers to her caring for you when you're sick, to even just her words, they all expressed the pure love she had for you.
"it's okay, all that matters is that you're here now."
<3
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personasintro · 8 months
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Mutual Help | #16
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𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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When the very anticipated notification comes in the form of a message saying 'I'm here', you wish you could be enthusiastic about it like yesterday when you went to sleep. Unfortunately, that was before you realized waking up at five in the morning is extremely tough. Especially for the person like you, and someone who went to sleep late even when your best friend was kind enough to remind you to go to sleep early.
Well, you were always known for going to sleep late and Jungkook seemed not to forget about that.
Stumbling out of your apartment building, you see him walking out of his car with a huge grin, probably finding your current appearance more than amusing.
"Good morning, baby. Ready for some adventure?" he jokes, wiggling his brows as he goes to hug you and places a single kiss on your temple.
"Morning." you grumble under your breath, poking him in the rib when he keeps teasing you with his doe eyes.
"God, I forgot what an early bird you are," he laughs, scrunching his nose in the process of his nonstop teasing. "Here let me take your bags." he says, reaching for the two travel bags you packed yesterday.
"Thanks." you murmur, following him to his new car.
Black Mercedes that he finally bought after speaking and dreaming about it for at least two years. You'll never forget the happy grin he had when he came to pick you up in his new car, showing you all the functions it has even though you barely understood half of what he was saying.
"Fuck, how much stuff did you pack?" he complains, opening the truck where he places your two bags next to his one.
"Just necessary stuff." you inform him, causing him to scoff in response. You notice the dark green camera bag in the truck and it sparks your interest. "Did you bring your camera?"
"Of course," he says, closing it shut as he walks to the driver side while you do the same, walking on the other side to the passenger side. "I gotta catch those memories." he says over the roof, making sure you see his sparkling eyes.
For the first time in the morning, you smile back before you make yourself comfortable in the seat, setting it into a more lying position.
"Who are we picking up?" you ask, silently admiring how silent the engine is when he turns it on and drives out of a parking lot.
The navigation already starts to give him directions, while he heads towards the main road. He looks cozy, especially in one of his black oversized hoodies and black cargo pants. You're not surprised by the choice of his outfit, especially the color. It's six in the morning and even though it's the middle of July, it's still chilly in the mornings. You're wearing one of your purple hoodies as well, matching it with some old leggings that won't be missed if you rip them.
"Jimin was supposed to take his car but it's too small to fit the rest of the gang. So they're going with Hoseok's friend's car and we're picking up some girls, plus Taehyung."
You shouldn't be surprised by the information that there are more girls coming on this camping trip. Jungkook told you that Hoseok's friends are going as well, but still, you're quite surprised by it. So far, there is no mention of Kiko and her possible attendance.
"Would you mind if I close my eyes for a few minutes?" you ask him, fumbling with your eyes as he picks up the speed.
The sky is painted light blue while there's sunrise around the corner. It creates a calm and nice view, especially when you're still tired.
"Not at all," he tells you, turning off the radio that's softly playing in the background. "You should rest till you can. Once Taehyung is here, there won't be any time to rest." he chuckles, leaving you giggling knowing he's more than right about that.
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"Oh my god, I love this song!" Taehyung shouts excitedly, singing his heart out along with Harry Styles' voice booming out of Jungkook's car speakers.
Laughing, you shake your head at your friend who sounds really good but is still too loud, especially when you barely got any sleep. The ride to get Taehyung wasn't that long, it took about fifteen minutes to pick him up and he hasn't shut up since then.
Five minutes later, you picked up Hoseok's friends in front of some apartment building. When Jungkook got out of the car, he helped to load their bags into the truck as he introduced himself to them. You could barely hear their conversation but when they got into the car, sitting next to Taehyung, they introduced themselves.
Minjae and Seulgi. They both look like they're your age, while Minjae's hair is black and short and Seulgi has a high strawberry blond ponytail that frames her face.
And here you are.
They seem like nice girls, very communicative and they both warmed up to all of you quickly, despite the fact that they barely know you. It confirms your thoughts when Minjae speaks up, reacting to Taehyung singing his heart out at Harry Styles' song.
"Let me tell you, Harry Styles is so fuckable!" She comments with so much enthusiasm that it makes you and Jungkook laugh, her friend reacting by exclaiming her name in disbelief. But Minjae just shrugs her shoulders innocently and looks at her friend. "Don't tell me you wouldn't fuck him, if you could."
"I'm not saying that, but--"
"See?" she interrupts her friend, causing Seulgi to let out a groan which makes you laugh even more.
What you don't expect is Minjae, who's sitting behind you, leaning forward as she plops her head between your and Jungkook's seat. "What about you, Y/N? Wouldn't you fuck him?" she asks, wiggling her brows as you shake your head at her, a huge grin settled on your lips.
Glancing at Jungkook, he stares at the road but gives you a quick glance of curiosity before he turns his eyes back to the road. With even Taehyung finally shutting up, everyone stays quiet while they wait for your answer and it makes you mentally groan at their damn curiosity. But well, at least you can be honest when they ask.
"Fuck yeah." you answer, causing Minjae to squeal in triumph.
"Yah! Since when?" Jungkook speaks up, glancing at you for a brief moment and giving you a good glimpse of his furrowed brows.
"I don't know, he's pretty hot. Have you seen him?" you shrug innocently, smirking when Jungkook glares at you. Reaching for a water bottle beside your legs, the one Jungkook bought you, you take a gulp.
"He's not that hot." he grumbles, toning out the voices of Minjae in the back while she asks Taehyung something.
All you can hear is Taehyung's response. "They're dating."
You and Jungkook don't react, both pretending to be busy with driving and staring out of the window and admiring the trees. But you still hear Seulgi whisper a little 'wasn't he dating Kiko?' and a little gasp she lets out when Minjae nudges her shoulder and silently tells her to shut up.
Great, so they know her too.
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When Jungkook told you the location of your camping trip is near a lake, you don't expect such a breathtaking view. You knew there'd be a lot of green around you, but you don't expect such an open space as you drive into the resort. The area is secured with a fence, which makes everything much safer and you don't have to worry about possible bears giving you a goodnight, which Jungkook reacted with a laugh telling you there are no bears when you shared your worries. The gateman that opens the gate for you is an older man, giving you a cheerful greeting and briefly explaining to you there's a nearby building where's the bathroom and little shop in case you might be needing or missing something. It's definitely different than you expected it to be, it's even better.
Everyone in the car shares your enthusiasm while Jungkook follows Jimin's directions he has sent him through voice message and drives through the road. Even when he parks beside white Hyundai, your mouth is agape and eyes focused on the beauty around you. There's a lake just a few meters away from you, with a spacious meadow with nearby trees and bright sky above your heads. You can notice a few people already unpacking a lot of stuff, including Jimin who's holding two unrecognizable packages of something with a frown on his face. His eyes briefly turn towards Jungkook's car and the frown disappears as he waves with the packages still in his hands. You wave back, laughing at his cuteness while you undo the seatbelt and wait for Jungkook to turn the engine off. As soon as he does that, you're getting out of the car just to be met with Jimin's crushing hug he gives you.
"You guys made it!" he exclaims happily, hugging you tighter before he pulls you away.
Smiling at him, you're reminded of how he likes spending his free time with friends. "Of course, we did." you grin, hearing the rest of them getting out of the car.
Jimin hugs Jungkook and Taehyung while he excitedly asks them about your ride and how amazing this place is. Well, you definitely agree with that. You notice Taehyung introducing Minjae and Seulgi to him, causing him to give them a polite wave which is a lot less affectionate than the hug he gave you. But you're all close, so it makes sense.
"Hey everyone!" Someone calls and you turn around, seeing Hoseok waving at all of you.
A round of greetings resounds from the group and you as well, hoping there won't be any negative memories with Hoseok. You know he apologized and he seems to be happy to see all of you, and you hope it could stay this way. When he smiles at you and urges everyone to follow him, he explains everything they've done so far.
"We've got four tents in total. We started to build it but the only one who seems to know how to do it, is Jimin so far," he chuckles, "But we need someone strong to bring wood for the fireplace from that building," he explains, pointing far away at the building. "Jungkook?" he asks, causing the younger male to nod as he gives him thumbs up.
"Great, Namjoon's going with you." he tells you, and your brows frown for a moment before you realize you don't remember anyone named Namjoon. It must be Hoseok's friend Jungkook mentioned.
Just as your curiosity starts working, a blond male appears while dusting his black sweatpants before he looks up and sees all of you. "Oh, hi." he smiles, waving at everyone while a cute dimple pokes out of his cheek and you almost squeal.
He's cute. He's wearing a black cap with some white shirt that's already dirty from the soil.
"Hey, Joon!" Minjae greets him, while Seulgi joins her and waves at their friend while they go to greet Hoseok and Namjoon with a hug.
"Joon, you already know Jungkook," Hoseok says, causing him to nod while he grins at your best friend. "This is Taehyung and Y/N." he introduces you and Namjoon waves at the both of you again, smiling at you while you do the same.
"It's nice to meet you." you smile at him.
"Likewise," he grins, "How was the ride?" he asks, eyeing everyone.
"Cool, we enjoyed the view so much!" Minjae answers.
Just as Jimin calls Taehyung to help him build a tent, while Hoseok starts to give instructions to Jungkook and how he can help, you don't notice another person coming along this trip. How could you, not until the person suddenly comes in the view holding a few packages of what seems like a marshmallow.
"Hey everyone!" she calls, but even you can tell she's trying to sound too cheerful at the sight of everyone being finally here.
Automatically, your eyes go to Jungkook who spots her and recognizes her voice immediately, his own widening at the sight of his ex-girlfriend.
"I brought these ones instead of the blue ones." she explains, her eyes shifting to Hoseok who nods.
"That's fine! These ones are better anyway," he waves, causing her to nod as she places the packages at the top of some plastic box.
Hoseok goes back to talking to Jungkook who nods understandably, but you know he's just trying not stare at Kiko who occupies herself with helping Minjae and Seulgi, trying to build a tent by themselves.
"Y/N, right?" You hear a few meters away from you, Namjoon glancing at you with the same friendly smile. You nod, smiling back at him politely. "Can you help me with this one?" he asks, trying to figure out which part of the tent is right.
"I don't think I'll be much help, but I can try." you joke, already walking towards him.
"That makes two of us." he jokes back, causing you to giggle.
Maybe this camping trip won't be as tense as you expected it to be. It's definitely awkward seeing Kiko here as well, but everyone seems to be cool and chill about the fact two exes are about to spend their weekend together.
But are you and Jungkook going to be?
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hanjsquokka · 3 months
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Rose-Colored Glasses - [ Lee Felix ]
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🩷 SYNOPSIS : Falling in love with your best friend wasn't the greatest thing, especially when Felix was damn sure he wouldn't be able to survive without your presence if you walked out of his life. He kept his feelings hidden, tucked away to the farthest part of his mind so he could stay with you. But how long could he keep his emotions from the one person that knew him the most?
GENRE : fluff, best friends to lovers
PAIRING : lee felix × f!reader
CONTENT WARNING : fluff, slightly suggestive, swearing
WORD COUNT : 2.5K
AUTHOR'S NOTE : I totally didn't drive my head through a wall to finish this. Writers block really hit me while writing this one, but I did it! Maybe not the best but I hope you guys like it <3 (part of valentines collab with @stayconnecteed )
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Felix doesn't remember when the silly little crush on you started. After all, you were supposed to be his best friend. Your childlike innocence made him smile, it was like you saw the world through rose colored glasses. He doesn't remember when he started seeing you differently. Did he just wake up one day, a skip in his heart whenever he saw you doing literally anything? Or were these long suppressed feelings? Were they always there and he just chose to not acknowledge them for the sake of his friendship with you?
Felix damn well knew he wouldn't be able to live without you. He would rather lock up his feelings in a treasure chest and throw the key as far away as possible rather than face the fear of possibly losing you from his life. He needed you. For him, his bond with you ran much deeper than friendship. You anchored him to reality.
It happened very often, when he was supposed to be doing work and his mind drifted off and started replaying memories of you, over and over again like a broken cassette. That was when he realized something was wrong — friends weren't supposed to do that right? He thinks about the day he first met you. When you awkwardly stood in front of his apartment, shyly muttering that you heard that he was looking for a new roommate from his friend. He was skeptical at first — he didn't expect a completely random stranger to ask if he could share his house with them. But then again he never expected anything that came his way after that.
Maybe his feelings for you started when you dragged him to a bookstore. He watched you fawn over the shelves lined with all your favorite novels. He remembers laughing when you started piling books into your hand only to put them away a while later because you couldn't get them. You looked so upset but in the end, you were happy you got some that you liked. Those books were neatly shelved in your room, the crisp pages filled with annotations and colored post-it notes and highlighters. Felix once looked at a book laying on your desk when you asked him to bring your phone charger from your room. His curiosity got the best of him and he flipped to a page which was marked with a pink tab. Safe to say, he shut the book close with a red face and picked up your phone charger and left the room. Never was he going to ask why you were giggling over a book again.
“Felix!” Seungmin's angry voice snapped over the headset he was wearing. The bright red Game Over flashed across his computer screen, making Felix groan. “Felix! Are you even there? Are you getting hea —”
“God, no! Just shut up Seungmin!” His face flamed red, his freckles disappearing underneath the intense blush that took over his face from what his friend suggested. Even though he was wearing headphones, he was scared you heard what utter nonsense Seungmin was spouting — was it considered nonsense if Felix didn't actually mind it? — from your room where you were probably reading or making boards on Pinterest. And it was like you heard his thoughts when the doorknob twisted and the door swung open, concern all over your face that vanished the second your eyes drifted to the screen. A smile played across your tinted lips, trying to hold back your amusement so he wouldn't feel worse. “Don't tell me you heard that…”
“Your cry of defeat? Yeah, I'm pretty sure our neighbor heard you too.” You finally let out a chuckle, leaning against the doorway. Felix wished you hadn't, but during the course of your friendship, you've learnt that he was… not the most exceptional gamer at times. Even if you tried to play it off whenever his friends were over, Seungmin was always more than happy to remind you. “You should save up your yelling for tomorrow anyways.” Tomorrow? His mind hit blank. He tried to think of any possible occasion that was going to happen the next day which would require his voice. Nothing came to him so he sat there, dumbfounded as you giggled again at his clueless expression. “We're going to the amusement park… with your friends?”
His brain clicked a minute too late, his face lighting up as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. He snapped his finger. “You're right.” Their amusement park plan was all Seungmin could talk about whenever they met up in person. Felix himself was also excited but nervous at the same time because him and roller-coasters never got along. The last time he went, he passed out on one — much to the amusement of his other friend Chan. He enjoyed going there, but he definitely did not enjoy the high rides.
How was he going to live down the embarrassment of screaming like a kid in front of you?
Felix got his answer the next day when their group of four set foot in the theme park, the sounds of happy screams (and fearful ones) and lively music blasting in all directions along with the smell of authentic carnival food filled his nose. The entire one hour car ride, his wonderful best friend — not you — had been going over the itinerary for the day. No one was paying much attention except you. Chan was busy driving and Felix was trying to keep himself from blushing because you were sitting next to him. He was a naturally affectionate person, so he never minded spontaneous hugs or lingering touches. But with you recently, he was starting to feel particularly antsy if you held his hand to drag him to the store next door, or if you hugged him out of nowhere. He couldn't help his face from breaking out into a huge grin, letting his nose breathe in the sweet smell of your shampoo mixed in with his cologne.
Living together with your crush who's also your closest friend could be a nightmare to some, including Felix. While he loved spending time with you, he couldn't help but let his emotions control his actions. It was a risky gamble, what would happen if you found out and you hated him? He couldn't handle that. It was better for him to try and keep his thoughts at bay and continue his relationship with you as it is. The past two years of his life were probably the best two years. He doesn't understand how he made it through life without you right there, right next to him.
The sound of your laughter made him turn towards you. The sun was reflecting off your heart-shaped, tinted sunglasses but your smile was far brighter to him. Chan was handing you a big swirl of cotton candy that the stall owner let him make. It looked deformed, but you were over the moon as you took it into your hands. You were dressed in denim shorts with sparkly gems stuck in a design he couldn't make out paired with a white shirt that he got you for Christmas which read Too Sexy for This Shirt. It was a gag gift, he'd actually gotten you a purse you'd been fawning over, but you seemed to like the shirt more. Christmas morning — the very first Christmas Felix spent with you since you both went home for the holidays the year prior — you laughed so hard your face turned red and you were clutching your stomach. It was nice seeing you smile, especially after you went through a pretty nasty breakup a week before.
He saw red when you told him that the guy you were dating called it quits because you were too much for him. How could someone ever be too much? Especially when that someone was you. You were… amazing. Another realization he had then — he was slowly falling in love with you. Felix knew he would never ever do anything to cause you so much pain because seeing you in pain caused him pain. It physically hurt him to see you shed a tear over some useless man that didn't understand he lost the best thing he had.
The day flew by quickly. Felix was sure they'd been on every single ride in the entire park twice. He was also sure he would have a sore throat the next day from all the screaming. The roller-coasters were actually more fun than he remembered. Sure, he might've felt like the car would come loose and fly off the track when they were at the highest point, waiting to plummet down. But he enjoyed it a lot. The adrenaline brought him out of his constant zoning out. Maybe his heart leaped out of his chest when you held his hand when the four of you were on the drop tower, you eyes shut close as the surroundings zipped closer in a flash before it came to a halt. But he liked the thrill.
“I think I left my stomach up there somewhere.” Chan laughed, knees wobbling as they got off of the ride.
“You were the one who wanted to go!” Felix exclaimed, too tired to protest further and nearly collapsed onto the nearest park bench they found.
“It was fun though.” You said, resting your elbows on the table to prop your face up. The evening sky created a different kind of glow around you. Felix was enamored by the way the colorful fairy lights danced in your eyes. “What?” You asked once you caught him staring at you for a minute too long.
“Nothing.” He shook his head, a shy smile automatically forming on his face.
Seungmin placed fresh water bottles on the table. “Rest up. This is the best time to go on the ferris wheel.”
Felix liked going on ferris wheels. Although they were way up high, it didn't feel like his heart would jump out of his throat any second. What he didn't like was Seungmin shoving him and you into a car which closed behind him with a loud click. He stumbled as the car jolted forward. He sent a glare towards his friend but it was of no use. He was stuck. In a ferris wheel. With you. It wasn't technically a bad thing except you were sitting face to face as you rose higher and higher above the ground. His blond hair was flying in his face, but it was nice.
“It's so beautiful up here.” You murmured. He hummed in agreement, but he wasn't looking at the lights on the ground or the setting sun that cast the world in a hue of orange and pink. He was looking at you. You met his eyes, a blush taking over your face. “You're looking at me.”
Perhaps it was all the adrenaline that was coursing through him or maybe he had one too many sodas to keep his energy levels up, but something in him made him say, “Obviously. You are really beautiful.” He was elated to see that your blush only darkened, almost the same color as the glasses sitting on top of your head.
“Where's all this coming from?” You asked, brushing your hair out of your face.
His throat dried up. The car stopped, making him lean even closer to you as he stumbled out of balance. A blush that could rival yours creeped up onto his face. “It's always been there…” The carnival music and the crowd noises died down. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, thumping in his chest. The words he wanted to tell you were on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out.
“What is it Felix?” You asked in a soft tone, a reassuring smile accompanying it to let him know that it was okay to speak his mind. “You can tell me anything.”
“I…” His voice caught in his throat. He looked out into the horizon before his gaze settled back onto you. “I like you, Y/n.”
“I like you too Felix —”
“More than a friend.” He added. His breath caught in his throat when he saw your eyes widening in shock, your mouth slightly agape. “I like you a lot.” He said again. Now that he blurted out the words, he was on a roll. “The world seems so much brighter with you around, Y/n, I can't explain it but… you're my rose-colored glasses. When I'm with you, everything seems better.”
There was a long moment of silence. He felt like he ruined his entire life. So many thoughts were running through his head, of how he would deny it or play it off — anything to make everything go back to normal. But you hit pause on all his thoughts when you captured his lips in the sweetest kiss imaginable. He was frozen for a second before his eyes fluttered close and he melted into the kiss. His heart was tap dancing in his rib cage but he could care less. All that was important in this moment was you. And your soft lips on his. When you pulled away, the world seemed more vivid than it was before. You both broke into quiet giggles.
“I guess that means you like me too?” He asked with a raised brow even though he knew the answer.
“That's why I kissed you.”
“I don't know…” He teased, making both of you laugh again. “Maybe I just need more convincing?”
“Is that so?” You chuckled before leaning in to kiss him again. Felix smiled into the kiss and pulled you close. He was going to have to thank Seungmin later for pushing him into the car with you.
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©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited
209 notes · View notes
murdockparker · 2 months
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Foolish Endeavor - Part 8
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: To be, or not to be (a Bridgerton), that is the question. One that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton has yet to ask.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: Mentions of sex, no actual smut, angst
A/N: it's a happy-sad chapter. that's all I gotta say mad lads
first part - previous part - next part
__
She hadn’t felt very well rested, not even the tiniest bit. No matter how tired she felt after last night’s escapades, the excitement that lingered in the air coursed through her veins, keeping her alert and awake for the entirety of the night. He hadn’t kept it much of a secret, not really.
Benedict Bridgerton was proposing. 
Today. 
While he practically proposed last night, bodies tangled together in a sweaty embrace, she knew a more formal question was coming later this morning or afternoon. It was only a matter of time before Benedict asked for her company, asked for her hand. She imagined he already discussed the details of their engagement, dowry and the like with her father before their visit to Aubrey Hall. Seeing as how her father couldn’t accompany them for the week and knowing how formal Benedict could be about situations just as this one.
A soft knock rang through the spacious room, followed by the entrance of Agnes, her lady’s maid. She was carrying a pitcher of fresh water and a rag, smiling lightly at the girl rolling in bed. 
“Good morning, miss,” Agnes said lovingly. She set the pitcher down on the desk, draping the cloth over the back of the chair. “I trust you slept well?”
“Of course,” she lied. “The beds here are divine, I reckon they’re stuffed with only the finest.”
“Oh yes,” Agnes nodded. “I’m sure the viscount has only the best in his home.”
“Did you sleep well, Agnes?”
“I slept just fine, my lady,” the maid said sweetly. “The staff’s lodgings are quite elegant. If I had half a mind, I would mention something to your mother…”
(Y/N) giggled, the sound dampening against the plushness of the bedding. “Consider it done, I’ll bring it up over tea.”
Agnes’ eyes lit up like a candle in the night—bright and ever glowing. She nodded softly before floating over to her lady’s bed to assist in her dressing. “I drew you a bath for this morning, I figured you may wish to take one after the exhausting day that was yesterday.” (Y/N)’s entire face flushed, the color creeping up from her neck. Surely the staff couldn’t have possibly heard anything from the study last eve, could they? “The carriage ride was much too hot for my liking, I myself washed up last evening.”
“Oh,” she coughed, patting her chest lightly. “Yes, I agree. Traveling in the summer months is always a hassle.”
“Should I set out your dressings for when you return, my lady?”
“Of course. That would be lovely.”
“Which one do you fancy for this morning?” Agnes asked, opening the wardrobe, now fitted out with the various silks and outfits they had packed for the week. Her eyes danced across the rainbow of colors before placing her hand on one. “I reckon Mr. Bridgerton will quite like this one."
“Agnes!” (Y/N) chided, suppressing a laugh.
“I’ll set it aside,” the maid hummed knowingly, placing the selected dress on the door to the wardrobe.
The dress Agnes had picked out was quite the stunning piece, the fanciest of the day dresses they had packed. The sleeves were almost entirely a thick lace, meeting the crook of her elbow with grace. Colored to match the sky on a summer’s day, the gown had matching white accents one could nearly mistake for clouds, a slightly darker azure pulled everything together on the bodice. It was the epitome of class, the finest handiwork once could find in the ton.
He thought she was breathtaking. 
He normally thought so, of course. This morning, however, she looked nearly as radiant as the sun. His sun. He knew it was going to be a good day, with her smiling as sweetly as she was. He had to restrain himself from reaching into his pocket and falling to his knee immediately, his better judgment getting the best of him. 
“Lady (Y/N),” Benedict greeted her, bowing lightly to appease the other eyes following them in the room. 
“Benedict,” she curtsied back. 
“Might you do me the honor of accompanying me on a promenade this morning?” He asked, brow arched up, his lovesick smirk ever apparent.
“Of course,” she nodded before turning to her side. “Though, we will need to find a chaperone—” 
“I’ll join you.”
“A walk could do me some good.”
Both the countess and dowager viscountess spoke in the same breath, flustered at the sudden attention on themselves. They both seemed too eager to join the happy couple this afternoon, for no reason in particular.
“You are both free to join us,” Benedict nearly laughed. “We are set to promenade around the gardens, I wish to enjoy your lovely flowers, Mother.”
“Oh yes,” (Y/N) nodded enthusiastically. “Lady Bridgerton, your gardens are quite the spectacle.”
Violet waved them off, nearly embarrassed. “Oh you two flatter me so terribly.”
“Oh but I have to agree, Violet. You simply must tell me where you found your florist,” the countess smiled. “Theodore would love the blooms you have out here.”
“Well, I hardly think they’re a secret,” Violet said, voice dropping to a murmur before leaning into the countess’ side. “But I’ll extend their information to you posthaste.”
The women giggled, both taken at the joy of the afternoon—Benedict and (Y/N) still in their own little world.
“Pall-mall is this afternoon,” Benedict said thoughtfully, extending his arm for his beloved to take. “I recall your proficiency at the game, has that changed?”
(Y/N) shook her head, beginning to walk with Benedict towards the gardens, mamas in tow. “No, of course not. If anything I simply have gotten even better than you recall.”
He let out a laugh, warm and thick like honey. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Anthony suggested the match a day or so prior to your arrival, something about fond memories from childhood—” 
“Really? You’re sure he doesn’t wish to try and best his family to look good for his future bride?”
“Ah, the viscount would never dare use his family as a pawn for his marriage,” Benedict said seriously. “But, trying to best Daphne will be his greatest feat.”
“The duchess is joining us?” She asked, allowing Benedict to open the garden gate for her. He hummed.
“She would never dare miss an opportunity to lay claim to her rightful place as the best Bridgerton pall-mall player,” Benedict chuckled. “Well, I suppose she also wished to meet Miss Sharma, should Anthony get off of his sorry behind and actually propose…”
Violet Bridgerton loved her garden in Kent—her and her husband had a rather fondness to the country—leaving her gardens to be quite the sight to behold. The young couple spent many a day in the gardens in their youth, playing and chasing the other around. Last year, Anthony had commissioned a small fountain to be added for their mother's birthday, it was the new jewel of the grounds. 
It was the perfect place, Benedict had decided.
“Why do you think our mamas are following us so closely?” (Y/N) asked quietly, tightening her grip on Benedict’s arm.
“They’re pretending to be interested in the roses,” Benedict whispered, turning to look back at his mother and the countess. The women seemed flushed, their attention drawn a bit too closely at the blooms. “But I believe they’re waiting with bated breath for something extraordinary to happen."
“And what, pray tell, would they be waiting for, Mr. Bridgerton?” Her heart began to pound, surely the small babbling of the fountain did nothing to hide it.
A grin spread across his face, one that was lopsided and all-too-sweet, his gaze warm enough to set aflame. “Perhaps they’re waiting for…this?” He removed his arm from (Y/N)’s grip, slinking down to one knee. Benedict thanked any God who would listen he had the bright idea to practice the gesture before this moment, as it hopefully looked as graceful as it felt. With only a slightly shaking hand, he took her own.    
“Oh!” Lady Kent squealed from behind. Lady Bridgerton was quick to pull her close—as if to not ruin the moment. 
“Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you have been a constant at my side. Your friendship has been a balm on my worried heart for the many years I have had the pleasure of knowing you,” Benedict began, trying to keep his voice steady. “How lucky am I, to have found such a partner in my greatest friend? How lucky would I be, if that partner agreed to spend the rest of her days with me?”
“Benedict…” She had begun to cry. She had known he was proposing today, and yet, she still begun to cry.
“(Y/N),” Benedict repeated her name like a prayer, “will you do me the honor of making me half of the happiest pair the universe has ever seen? Will you marry me?”
A box suddenly appeared in his other hand, a glittering ring shining in the morning sun. It surely wasn’t a family ring, no, it looked to be brand new, like he had it made especially for her. Benedict had asked Lady Bridgerton about family rings but never quite found one that spoke to him—so he took matters into his own hands. 
A delicate cluster of pearls with shining sapphires, all adorned like a flower in bloom. He had been torn on the sapphires, but secretly, a part of him wished for her to have the staple Bridgerton color, blue, with her always. A small claim, a slightly possessive way for him to show she is his at all times. 
If she didn’t already have her answer before this moment, seeing Benedict on the ground, bearing his heart out to her in front of a beautiful scene—and their mamas—it couldn’t have come any easier. 
“Yes!” She squealed, falling to the ground to meet Benedict in an amorous embrace—dress be damned, society be damned.
He nearly fell over, arm steadily snaking its way around her waist, holding her tight against him. He knew he was close to tears, but seeing his love on the same precipice nearly sent him over the edge. “If our mamas weren’t looking…” Benedict whispered into her ear, holding her tight against him, his words a secret to her alone. 
“I simply don’t care,” (Y/N) murmured, turning his face towards her own, lips nearly attacking his. What started as a passionate celebration had melted into something more substantial—a far cry from any other kiss they had shared before. This was not just a kiss from a friend, a kiss from a lover, no, this was a kiss between a husband and wife. The passion was not lost on them, but it took perhaps a second too long to fully realize that their mothers were still very much watching.
“Ehem!” Lady Kent cleared her throat, cheeks rosy as the blooms beside her.
“Relax Mama,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling herself to her feet, assisting Benedict to reaching his own as well. “What is the worst thing to happen? Force us to marry faster?”
“I rather like the sound of that,” Benedict murmured, dusting off his pants. 
“Er, no, I suppose there’s nothing—” Lady Kent sighed, turning to Violet. “Should we petition for a speedy ceremony?”
“Oh hush,” Violet admonished, laughing lightly. “One kiss between betrothed is not a ruin. However,” she looked at the newly affianced couple with a narrow gaze, the one of a strict mother, “I would not make it a habit until you are wed.”
“Of course, Mother,” Benedict nodded, trying his very best to not laugh out loud. 
“My lady,” a butler had come up from behind the proud mothers. “The duchess has arrived.”
“Oh! Splendid,” Violet cooed. “Benedict, do see to it that you and your fiancée greet your sister, I am sure she would be most pleased at your news.”
“We shall inform the family before pall-mall,” Benedict said decidedly. “Just another reason to celebrate.”
“Just think,” Lady Kent sighed, turning to walk with Lady Bridgerton back to the estate. “By the end of the week you will have two sons set to be wed! A joyous celebration indeed.”
“If Anthony is truly engaged at the end of the week,” Benedict said quietly, words only meant for his fiancée to hear, “then the world has turned upside down.”
They both laughed. 
“Is Anthony still attached to the black mallet?” (Y/N) asked, arm in arm with her new fiancé. “I recall a near bloodbath for it the last time I played pall-mall with your family.”
“Far more than one would realize,” Benedict nodded. “One would suspect he carried and birthed the bloody thing…”
“Funny,” (Y/N) said. “He birthed the mallet? Here I thought he still had a stick up his—”
“(Y/N)!”
“What? I will not apologize for saying what I was thinking—and if I knew any better, you were too.”
“He’s been… a bit un-agreeable the last few weeks, regarding the whole notion of Miss Sharma and whatnot,” Benedict sighed.
“So you do not disagree.”
“He is my brother,” Benedict stated.
“Indeed,” (Y/N) hummed.
Even having descended these steps only two hours prior to their inevitable engagement, the yard had completely transformed. Shade and snacks had been put up for the spectators, hoops were currently being put in the ground and staff were carrying out the dreaded mallet container.
“What a lovely afternoon for pall-mall,” Lady Mary said.
“And a lovely afternoon to celebrate an engagement,” Lady Bridgerton added, looking directly at the happy couple. 
“Oh yes,” Lady Mary smiled. “Congratulations on the engagement, Lady Bridgerton, Lady Kent.”
“Save your congratulations for the ball in the next few days,” Lady Kent laughed. “I suspect it will be the talk of the ton anyhow.”
The older ladies laughed with one another. The younger adults began their trek to the mallet box, determination in each of their eyes. 
“Eloise, are you sure you do not wish to play?” Colin asked, turning to his younger sister.
“I have other matters to deal with,” she said sitting from the steps, nose in her book. “Besides, someone had to sit out so our guests could play…”
“I could have sat out—” Colin began.
“And the sky is green, Brother,” Benedict said, clapping his younger brother’s back. “Everyone knows you would’ve been a worse spoilsport if you sat out instead.”
“Perhaps Lady (Y/N) could have sat out, then?”
“You’d make my fiancée sit out?” Benedict gasped, clearly jesting. “She is to be your sister soon, Colin. It’s preposterous that you would even suggest such a thing!”
“Ben,” (Y/N) giggled, hand placed gently on his shoulder. “I do not think Colin truly meant it.”
“Congratulations, again,” Colin nodded towards the to-be-Bridgerton. “Why you wish to marry into this family is beyond me.”
“I fear I am still asking myself such a question,” she hummed, plainly ignoring Benedict’s souring expression. “But I am sure I’ll be reminded during our spirited game of pall-mall.”
“Reminded of what?” Daphne asked, walking with the Sharma sisters. She had been explaining the game in earnest to them.
“How much fun our family has playing a rousing game of pall-mall,” Colin said, shit-eating grin on his face. Anthony tried his best to ignore it, taking his attentions to Miss Sharma—the younger, not the elder.
“Shall we begin?” Anthony coughed, clasping his hands behind his back. 
“I shall pick first,” Colin said, reaching for the black mallet.
“No!” Anthony practically yelled, causing a shock to the group. “I-I mean, we pick based on alphabetical order.”
“So, by Bridgerton standards, eldest to youngest?” (Y/N) mused. Benedict huffed a laugh as his brothers began to fight.
“The only fair thing to do,” Daphne spoke up, ever the voice of reason, “is to let our invited guests choose their mallets and strike first.”
“Please, take your pick, Miss Edwina,” Anthony conceded, bowing to the younger Sharma. Edwina looked carefully over the mallets, eyes scanning over every color—almost as if she was afraid to pick the wrong one. She pointed decidedly to the blue one, Anthony grabbing it for her with haste. “An excellent choice.”
Kate wasted no time in choosing her mallet—black and foreboding. The mallet of death. 
“Would you look at that, Brother?” Benedict sniggered, clearly amused by Anthony’s annoyance. 
“Is this yours?” Kate asked. 
“Not at all. You’re welcome to it,” Anthony sighed.
“You near threatened to beat me the last time I touched—”
“You exaggerate,” Anthony fumed, eyes like daggers towards Colin.
“Are you the superstitious sort, Lord Bridgerton?” Kate asked, twirling the mallet like a prized trophy. “I know some men cannot perform without their familiar tools. Like a child with a blanket.”
“Oh I like her,” (Y/N) said softly, her words nearly lost amongst the guffaw of the Bridgerton family.
“I can play perfectly well with any mallet,” Anthony said.
“My sun, I do believe it is your pick,” Benedict said, clearing the laugh from his throat. She nodded, taking her claim on the lavender mallet. It seemed the most appealing and an easy color to spot from the grass. “Lavender is a fine color for you.”
“Shall we dilly dawdle all afternoon?” Colin sighed. “Or shall we…” 
It was like a hunt. Each of the playing Bridgertons tried to stake their claim on a mallet, all avoiding one in particular. Benedict grabbed a golden yellow, Colin choose green, Daphne a nice seafoam color, leaving Anthony with the pastel pink. 
“To the field of combat!” Daphne exclaimed, holding her mallet straight up in the air. 
Combat was an accurate descriptor. While it had been years since she had played pall-mall, even longer since she had played it with the Bridgertons, Lady (Y/N) found it refreshing. It nearly made her wonder if this could have been her life growing up—a lively life with siblings to bicker with and pick on. 
Regardless, it will be her life now, as soon as she marries Benedict. Soon she’d be a Bridgerton. Soon she’d have the family she’d always dreamt of. Siblings, children, the whole lot.
“I say, that was a good shot Lady (Y/N)!” Colin cheered, clapping politely at her latest hit. She had managed to knock Daphne’s ball near a cluster of bushes. “Always a win in my book to best Daph.”
“Oh hush,” Daphne rolled her eyes. “It was a bold move, I will concede to that, well done (Y/N).”
“Dropping her title, are we?” Benedict asked, stepping beside his sister. “You of all people know better etiquette, Your Grace.”
“And what is better etiquette than calling my newest sister by her given name?” Daphne sang, hopping along to her ball. She may be married and a new mother with one on the way, but she still was very much a girl at heart. 
“I truly don’t mind, Benedict,” (Y/N) insisted. “It won’t matter in a few weeks, anyhow.”
“Perhaps you won’t mind this, then?” Colin said. In a blink of an eye, her purple ball went flying towards Daphne’s. 
“Not at all, Colin,” (Y/N) curtsied. “You only made the game more fun, I would have been crestfallen if you were taking it easy on me.”
“Never,” he scoffed. 
“Exactly right,” (Y/N) said, following Daphne over to her ball.
“I’m happy for you. She’s a catch, Ben,” Anthony said, pulling his younger brother out of his love-sick daze. Benedict nodded, not fully listening. “Everyone suspected it to happen, since we were young.”
“I wish someone would have told me sooner,” Benedict jested, “it would have saved us both some time, I manage.”
“I believe Father had made a joke about it once before,” Anthony said. “But, I assume your head was too stuck in the clouds to hear it.”
“Father did, truly?” Benedict’s brow raised. “He was rather observant, I suppose I do not doubt it.”
“You know, I must hand it to you, Brother,” Colin said, cutting in with his brothers. “Courting Lady (Y/N) was a feat I’m surprised you pulled off.”
“Do you not think we are a suited match?” Benedict asked. “Am I not charming enough? Not handsome enough?”
“You are a Bridgerton, of course you are enough,” Colin said.
“I think he means he is just surprised you managed to snag the daughter of an earl,” Anthony said simply. “You are a second son, it is nearly unheard of.”
“She is more than that—”  
“Of course she is,” Anthony said, raising his hand in defense, the other on his pink mallet. “She is your greatest friend and soon to be your wife—of course she is more than just the earl’s daughter.”
“She is my sun,” Benedict said simply. 
Anthony and Colin gave each other a look. “Ever the poet,” Colin chuckled. “You could have stopped at ‘she’s more than that’.”
She had been trying to strategize how best to get her purple ball back to the next wicket. Colin had sent it rather far from the next target, but it was no matter. She was determined to get it back into play—to show the Bridgertons she could roll with the punches. A small wave was sent her direction, one attached to a rather love-sick man, tall and handsome with a wicked grin. 
She waved back, an equally lovesick smile on her lips. 
“How fortunate,” Anthony noted. “Now your son will inherit the earldom, yes?”
“I…” Benedict’s regard turned back to his brother. How easily he was distracted by Lady (Y/N). “Yes, I suppose that is what’s expected of our union, what her parents expect of us.”
“Just think,” Colin said boisterously, “two titles in one family!”
“A viscount and an earl, both Bridgertons,” Anthony cooed, much like a child. “Well done brother! What a success for our family—Father would be proud.”
“I understand the sudden interest in Lady (Y/N) now, Brother,” Colin said, balancing on his mallet. “It rather makes sense, does it not?” 
“I think Father would be more proud that I am marrying for love,” Benedict corrected, growing a bit annoyed at his brothers jesting. 
“Love? Oh yes,” Anthony waved. “Sure, sure. But the earldom? How lucky you’ve bagged her, Brother. Bridgerton, Earl of Kent!”
Benedict forced a laugh. 
“Well, that is not—” 
A purple ball rolled next to his feet, stopping just before his toes. 
She had looked like she had seen a ghost, Lady (Y/N). Her grip tightened on her mallet, white gloves contrast to the purple. “I think I shall cut out for the day.”
The Bridgerton brothers were silent, Benedict inching towards her.
“(Y/N)—”
“I am in need of a respite,” she said, not looking back. “Too much sun.”
Benedict felt his blood run cold, his hand glued to the air. Every sense of his was fleeting, his sight blurring, his mouth running dry. 
“You dolt,” Daphne admonished, smacking her second eldest brother as she came upon them. “You must talk to her.”
“I-I will,” Benedict nodded, not knowing what else to do.
“Well not now,” Daphne sighed. “Give her a moment to collect her thoughts. A conversation now could be… explosive.”
“Is the game finished, my lord?” Edwina pranced over, brows furrowed.
“Ah, yes,” Anthony cleared his throat. “Well, no. Lady (Y/N) and Benedict have cut out, isn’t that right?”
Benedict nodded numbly, dropping his mallet to the grass.
“The game is still set—minus yellow and purple,” Anthony said stoically, rightfully ignoring his brother heading towards the estate. 
Feet like lead, every step he took felt like a death sentence, a man on his way to execution.
Somehow, he much preferred that thought.
__
He knocked at her door, three hours later. 
For two hours he sobbed and for an hour he drank, trying to wrap his head around how he’d approach this, how he’d approach her. He had pressed a wet rag to his face. Helps with the puffiness, a staff member told him. He hoped for it to be true. 
He knocked again.
“Go away.”
Benedict sighed, leaning up against the wood. “I’m afraid that’s unlikely. We must speak.”
“I am not opening the door.”
“And I am not leaving.”
A pause. 
Then, the lock clicked. 
The man took a deep breath, preparing for every possible outcome. He was never much of a planner, but in this very instance? He wish he had clairvoyance, a crystal ball perhaps, to see how this would end. Benedict could only hope it ended with them at the end of the aisle, hand in hand at the altar. 
“You would have stayed out there all night,” she said simply as he entered the room. She had resigned herself to standing in the dead center of the bedchambers, her arms crossed.
“Yes,” Benedict said. “I would have.”
“Stubborn,” she scoffed, turning towards the window. 
He took the moment to shut the door—they were engaged, no need for propriety now. “We are expected at dinner this evening,” Benedict said quietly. “To celebrate the engagement.”
“Naturally.”
“You do not wish to go to dinner,” Benedict surmised.
“Naturally,” she repeated, her shoulders tensing.
“You must eat—” 
“I would rather starve.”
“That is a bit ridiculous,” Benedict scoffed. “Surely you are not that angry.”
“You do not get to tell me how angry I am allowed to be,” (Y/N) said, finally turning around. “If I do not wish to show face at dinner, I will not show face.”
Benedict’s gaze softened on her, finally seeing her face. He would never assume anything about her, it would make for a terrible habit for the years to come, but if he had to make an educated guess, she had been crying just as much as he had.
He wished he had a rag to offer.
“I apologize—”
“For which instance?” (Y/N) asked cooly. “For earlier? For dictating my feelings?”
“The first—both, I suppose,” Benedict ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps he was losing strands from the stress. “Look, (Y/N)—” 
“Do you take me for a fool?”
“What?”
“You have known me for many years,” (Y/N) said. “Do you take me for a fool?”
He had the fleeting thought of mentioning how poorly she played cards, how foolish her tactics were. The only time he’d ever call her a fool. He decided he’d be more the fool if he so much as loosened his lips on that thought. “No.”
“I do not need you to explain yourself, you and your brothers made it quite clear this afternoon,” (Y/N) tightened her arms, nearly folding in on herself. “Quite clear on your true intentions with the earldom.”
“My true intentions? My only intention is and ever was to marry you. Absolutely none of this came from the title.”
“Is that why you suddenly had an interest in me? To secure another title of nobility for your family’s lineage?”
“Of course not! I have loved you since I knew what love truly was, (Y/N). It did not happen overnight.”
Frustrated, she began to pace about the room, fire crackling nearly in time with her beating heart. The air was tense, thick. Shadows begun dancing from the flames, painting themselves onto the bookshelves with ease and without hesitation. Their furrowed brows were prominent against the flickering, set in stone. 
“‘Did not happen overnight’,” (Y/N) scoffed. “You had the opportunity when I debuted seasons ago, why now? Why not then?”
“I was fooling myself,” Benedict pressed a hand against his chest. “I know how this may look, my sun—”
“You,” she cut him off, eyes hardened. “Do not get to call me that. Not right now.”
Benedict took a step back. She was dead serious. He could only recall one other time in their lives that she had such a ferocity to her character—it had involved her father discarding a handful of books from her own personal collection, resulting in her not speaking to him for the better part of a month. If he thought her looks could kill then, Benedict Bridgerton was expecting to have his funeral by the end of the night.
“You misunderstand,” Benedict began carefully, as if to not break any eggshells. “My brothers—you know how they are. Anthony was merely making a joke.”
“It was in poor taste.”
“I agree!” Benedict exclaimed. “My laughter then, it was one of the forced kind, one I save only for the deeply unpleasant conversations I tend to have during the season.”
She stood silent for a moment.
“Yet you laughed."
“I… did. My su—love, I apologize from the deepest parts of me. I wish to marry you, earldom or not. Titles mean nothing, but you? Darling, you mean everything to me."
“So it was just a coincidence that you decided to show up at my door the morning after I shared the truth of my family’s wishes for my future match? Surely you do not take me for a fool.”
Benedict sighed, feeling the anger bubbling in his chest. “While you may have shared that information, the only thing I could even begin to think about since you had left that afternoon was that I had a chance!”
She blinked. 
“Imagine, loving your best friend, watching her and admiring her from afar, knowing she’s destined to be with and marry another. Marry some… some duke or titled man, someone every mama would be floored to have pair with their daughter,” Benedict felt as if he were on stage, his only audience watching him intently. “But to fathom you’d ever marry me? A second son? Surely you could consider me mad for ever entertaining that, for even ever dreaming of it.”
“You have no idea the type of man I wished to have married,” (Y/N) said, her voice cooler than ice. Calculated, perhaps. “Had you been honest from the start—”
“And ruin our friendship?” Benedict laughed, no humor found in his voice. “Lose you? The greatest thing to come of my time on this planet? No. Perish the thought.”
“You’re a fine actor,” (Y/N) said slowly, trying to keep her composure. “Because from the way I see it? You found a way to ensure a new title for the Bridgerton name—woo your ‘greatest friend’ and effectively ruin her by taking her on your brother’s desk!”
“Do not make it seem like you had no say in the matter—”
“I loved you!” (Y/N) screamed, finally reaching her breaking point. “I thought you would be the man I would marry! I wanted you, Benedict, more than I ever wanted anyone.”
“Loved…?” Benedict felt smaller than dirt. “You do not mean—”
“I will still marry you,” (Y/N) continued. “Only because you have effectively trapped me—what if I am to be with child?” She nearly laughed at the absurdity. “Seeing as you had the grace to not only ruin me, but finish in me—”
“Is that what you think?” Benedict broke, his voice quavering. “You think that I tried to trap you into a marriage to ensure my family a new title? That I had the thought—the foresight—to try and make you with child to give you no other options? In no way you could think so little of me—”   
“And yet here we are,” her voice was like venom. "Perhaps you will have your Bridgerton earl after all."
He dared not speak a word.
“I need some time to think. Mother and I are going back to Mayfair—do not follow us.” (Y/N) left the room, slamming the door so hard one might have assumed it cracked. 
Much like his heart.
__
TAGLIST
@nikkisilassheep, @cavghtbythewind, @chaotic-onigiri, @440mxs-wife , @mymyma , @perdynerd , @wotcherboo , @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake , @babyhoneystvles , @korol-lantsov , @riddlerloveb0t 
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teddywook · 18 days
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anon's request and i loved to did this cus i just love sungchan and good lord i need him as my boyfriend as i need oxygen for live 😩💔
i'm not sure if you was expecting this in spanish or nah but well. i just wrote the way i usually do, hope you like it and not be a big deal for you. thanks for your ask my dear💕
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
bf!sungchan who sends you photos every minute of the day when he can't be with you. pics his lunch, mirror selfies when he's at the gym or photos of random objects that he finds in his way to home
bf!sungchan who secretly (not really) loves it when you shower him with compliments about his appearance. he would send you selfies making cute faces and photos of his outfits so you could tell him how good he looks
bf!sungchan who whenever he can't sleep by your side, video call you so that you are the last thing he sees and hears before closing his eyes
bf!sungchan who wouldn't pass up the opportunity to come to your house with gifts just because he loves to spoil you. your favorite candys, a cherry blossom that fell next to his feet, a new nail polish because he just remembered you wanted to try a different color. no matter what he´s getting for you, he just doesn't want to come to your house and feel like he didn't bring anything to give you
bf!sungchan who as soon as he crosses the door of your apartment, goes in search of you to give you the biggest warmest hug. he picks you up off the ground and spins with you in his arms easily, saying how much he missed his baby
bf!sungchan who plops down on the couch with you locked in his arms. your head buried in his chest, allowing you to hear the hammering of his heart against his chest as he leaves kisses on your head and forehead
bf!sungchan whose favorite nights are the ones spent at your house. lying on your bed, his arms around your waist keeping you as close to his body as possible. his face hidden in the crook of your neck, breathing in the almost faded aroma of your perfume. whether your hands are drawing shapes on his bare biceps or playing with his hair. he proudly assures that it is the best way to sleep
bf!sungchan who his friends tease of comparing him to a puppy, because of the way he behaves around you. always glued to you when you go out, demanding your attention. he can be a little clingy, but please don't blame him, he's just a boy who loves your kisses and cuddles
bf!sungchan is real life prince. holding each door in front of you so you can pass through, opening your chair at restaurant, bending down and putting your foot on his knee to tie your shoelaces, he will give you the first bite of his food so you can taste it and if you like his more than yours, then he'll changes it without doubt. if you're tired of walking, it won't take him two seconds to carry you on his back
bf!sungchan is the sweetest, most thoughtful, caring, and simply the best boyfriend. always showing you how much he cares about your well-being, making you feel safe, loved and respected
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Tohru Honda: a Subversion of Shoujo’s Nice Girl Trope
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Fruits Basket absolutely nails subverting your expectations of character tropes in anime. 
Momiji is introduced as the cute childish boy but boom we are slapped with the fact that he a mother who hated him so much she had her memories wiped of him. Shigure right off the bat looks like the typical perverted uncle of anime when in reality he is one the most manipulative characters in the series. Ayame is the flamboyant, boisterous one whose bravado hides his regret and desire to repent for his past neglect of his younger brother. Which ultimately brings me to the protagonist of Furuba itself, Tohru Honda.
I'll make it no secret that I have a huge soft spot for Fruits Basket as a series. It was the first manga I read, I watched the 2001 series and I was right on the hype train when I saw it was getting a remake that would follow the manga storyline. But I did my best to be as objective as possible in this essay of sorts saying why I believe Tohru is a great example of subverting the "Nice Girl Protagonist" of Shoujo. Tohru is the protagonist of Fruits Basket and when it comes to those who don't like her, it seems she can be hit or miss due to the assumption that she is perfect. 
The general consensus of those who do not like her or find her bland compared to the rest of the cast is that Tohru is a perfect and bland protagonist with no issues of her own. That all she does is wave her healing wand of warm smiles and makes everything better for those around her.
However, that opinion couldn't be more misguided. In reality, Tohru is just as emotionally broken as the Sohmas and they mend her heart just as much as she mends theirs. As such, I hope to show those who find her bland or otherwise boring that there is more substance to Tohru's character than they believe.
At first glance, Tohru does seems like your typical Shoujo protagonist. She's nice, almost to a fault. She would rather talk her way out of a situation instead of throwing hands, she doesn't get mad in situations other typically would, and she has a hard time asking for help. Oh and with a dash of anime originality, she's an orphan. However even as early as episode 1, you can see hints that Tohru is not going to be the usual nice girl protagonist with her desire to work and be as independent as possible. The mangaka does a great job throughout the series showing with hints and broad examples that Tohru is just as complex as the colorful cast around her.
Ironically enough though, when hints of Tohru's trauma are sprinkled throughout the series it is seen as annoying even when the Furuba takes time to give insight into why she does the things she does.
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She mentions her mother constantly in anecdotes of whimsical stories or snippets of wisdom her mother imparted her with.
Compared to the death of parents to other anime protagonists, Tohru's situation is a bit more unique. Tohru's father may have died when she was young but the same cannot be said for her mother, Kyoko, who died fairly recently. When the series begins, Kyoko has only been dead for a few months and it is more than apparent as early as episode 1 that Tohru is desperate to keep any semblance of her mother's existence alive. Kyoko died before Tohru's first year of high school even ended and worse, was told in the middle of class. Tohru has had barely any time to heal from this loss and it is evident in how she talks to her mother's photo.
Yes, in Japanese culture, it may be typical to have photos of departed family members, making a shrine for them and leaving offerings from time to time. But Tohru takes this to a completely different level, showcasing how deep her trauma runs.
When she is digging frantically to take out her mother's photo after the landslide destroyed her tent, she cries "She can't breathe in there. She's in pain." And that's just episode one.
Nobody completely over the death of their parent would speak like this, referring to a photo as a living person. She lost her mother and she didn't even get a chance to say goodbye, even feeling guilt to an extent about the situation. Tohru didn't wake up to tell her mother that she would see her later. There is no way that simply getting up to tell her mother goodbye would have changed the outcome of her fate, but Tohru still feels that way. That it didn't matter if she had tests or work or the next day, the one she should have put first was her mother. 
Anyone who has or is currently experiencing the grief of losing a loved one has likely done the same. Wondering if, if the situation was anything other than illness or old age, there was something they could have done. Things they should have said or could have said differently. What more could they have done to help and the feeling is all consuming. Even if it is unprompted, they somehow will manage to insert their lost family or friend into a conversation that didn't include them or may randomly begin talking about them. A lot of the time, these people don't even realize that they're doing it which is shown in season 2 with Tohru when Hiro asks her why she talks about her mother so much.
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She is too positive.
Tohru's positivity is one of the most easily seen aspects of her character. Where others might see the glass half-empty, Tohru sees it as half-full. Her positivity is even noted upon by characters within the show, Saki (Hanajima) mentioning that she doesn't believe she could personally smile like that so soon after the death of a loved one.
Tohru doesn't like thinking about her problems. She doesn't like expressing her sadness. She doesn't want to worry those around her when they likely have their own problems to worry about. Saki predicts that this ability Tohru has to act this way is because she would scold herself if she ever showed a hint of sadness. And Saki was right because we see Tohru later on doing exactly that, crying but forcing herself to try and smile and scolding herself for not keeping it together.
Rather than let Yuki comfort her when she is in tears, she smiles and completely changes the topic even though tears are coming down her face.Tohru tells Kyo that she needs a minute to get herself together because breaking down in tears in front of him wasn't what she planned. She was supposed to smile when she saw him again.
Tohru would rather pretend everything is fine even when she is seconds away from falling apart because toxic positivity is something she struggles with.
No one can be that positive all the time, not even Tohru.
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Tohru has a hard time asking others for help.
Yes, Tohru is kind-hearted by nature but she genuinely does believe that she could burden those she troubles for help. Considering how her maternal side of the family wanted nothing to do with her and her paternal side of the family talks poorly about her, it isn't difficult to see where that frame of thinking came to be. When her mother died, her paternal side of the family didn't argue over who wanted to take Tohru in, they argued over who should take Tohru in and that is an important distinction. Even more so the fact, they had these arguments in front of her. When it was finally settled that she should live with her grandfather and that was uprooted due to upcoming renovations, it makes sense that she would rather be homeless in a tent than bother her friends who don't have the space to provide for an additional person even if that.
In Tohru's mind, it was shown very clearly by her family that she is a burden. She's an extra mouth to feed and an unwanted mouth at that, as her family never holds back in disparaging Kyoko even if Tohru is present.
As such, when Tohru is in a situation where she has no other choice than to accept their help, she believes she should be extremely grateful. They're taking their time to help her when they easily could have done otherwise, so why should she want more? Why should she complain? If she has any desires, she pushes it down because of that belief because she feels awful and that she shouldn't want for more when people are already going out of their way to help an extra mouth to feed. Because of this mentality cultivated by the bulk of her paternal relatives mistreatment, she will seldom voice her wants.
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She never gets angry or upset.
To say Tohru never gets angry or close to physical in her reactions is far from the truth. Tohru gets angry when the issue impacts those that she cares about.
Tohru can tolerate being mistreated but she will always draw the line at the abuse being directed to someone else. When she first meets Akito and she sees Yuki's clear discomfort and fear, she pushes Akito away from him immediately. When she witnesses Momiji being punched by Akito, she immediately steps in and places herself in front of Momiji to physically shield him. When Rin tells her not to meddle with the curse and involve herself, Tohru, without cruelty, shoots back that she will absolutely meddle and involve herself because she refuses to lose the people she cares about to someone who has clearly been abusing them emotionally and physically for years. Tohru's tolerance for mistreatment has a limit, she is just unfortunately not included in that limit. So when we finally see her get angry in a scenario that includes herselfー when Kyo tries to run away because he feels he doesn't deserve her love, it's incredible.
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There is so much more to Tohru than meets the eye. Tohu's reaction to Yuki getting a cold isn't just Tohru overreacting for the sake of being a nice girl, it's because her father died from a cold he brushed off and that cold turned into a fatal illness. For Tohru, colds aren't something that can just be brushed away because what if it turns into something worse.
Tohru would rather wear clothes until they practically fall apart than buy new clothes because she knows that she can't just spend her money haphazardly. But when it came to Valentine's Day and wanting to express her gratitude for those who cared about her, she had no problem dropping an entire check to purchase the ingredients to make enough chocolate for everyone.
She disregards herself and the efforts she puts forward. When she feels she has failed in helping Arisa, she specifically says "everyone around me has always helped me and when it is my turn to do the same, I can't." These aren't problems she overcomes herself by simply "smiling through the pain" as some who discredit her argue. Tohru is repeatedly loved and helped by those around her who care for her and opens herself up to receive that love and help over time. She is taught by her grandfather and Sohmas that is okay for her to be selfish and ask for things.
Her friends teach her that she helps them so much and that in reality they feel like they are never there to help her when she needs it.Her friends get upset that the same amount of money she would spend on them, she wouldn't spend on herself.
She is told that the way she villainized Katsuya after his death because doesn't make her dirty or a bad person because she was a child that was scared to lose her mother. That her fear and desperation to make her mother acknowledge her was understandable. That mimicking her father in her attempt to draw her mother's attention probably helped more than she realized.
Tohru is not just a "Nice Shoujo Girl" Protagonist, she is a girl with trauma who would rather focus on the issues someone else has than look to her own.
Like I said before, this isn't me trying to get Tohrus haters to like her. People are entitled to like and dislike whichever characters they please, but it is a complete disservice to Natsuki Takaya's writing to say Tohru is bland and has no struggles of her own. Tohru has many problems and struggles she has to deal with throughout the series and seeing those issues she overcomes being brushed aside as her being perfect and having no problems is a complete oversight. As such, I just simply wanted to peel back Tohru's layers and showcase that just as characters such as Momiji, Shigure and Ayame are more than the tropes they are introduced as, Tohru is as well.
[i wrote this on reddit too]
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