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stylesharrys · 8 months

Text

Say You Love Me

Nothing hurts more than an unrequited love.

A/N: I'm considering opening up requests again. I'm working on some super long fics for you guys so if you have any other ideas or requests for what you'd like to see, please do let me know :)

WC: 2.3k

She’s always been the quiet one, the insecure one, the lonely one. She’s always been the one that’s been the second option, the plan B. She’s always been the one that no one thinks twice about, the one that’s forgotten, the one that’s not really wanted. The one that’s just there.

It’s the same thing she’s tried to tell herself isn’t the case. The thing that her anxiety whispers in both the dead of night and yet the loudest and brightest of days.

She’s not quiet, she’s nervous. She’s not insecure, she’s misunderstood. She’s not lonely, she’s underappreciated.

She’s the one that everyone bounces off, that they go to for their problems and yet never think to share with her their celebrations. She’s there for the rutty stuff -- when friends are in need of a vent or some help, then she’s dropped again. She’s there for when they need her, but never really when she needs them.

She knows what her anxiety whispers is true, that her depression sings anxiety’s songs and has her spiralling the dance of self-doubt and loneliness. She knows they’re not just psychological murmurs -- knows that they’re the truth. And yet, she tells herself to forget the truth so it doesn’t hurt so much.

She’s used to it, but it doesn’t make the pain of it any more bearable. She’s used to being the last one hearing news, the last one being invited out (if they even remember). She’s used to having her birthday forgotten, to having her invitations lost in the post. She’s used to picking herself back up after every downfall she faces.

She is quiet. She is insecure. She is lonely.

And yes, she’s surrounded by friends. If you could call them that. Familiar faces that she sees semi-regularly, that have known her for years but not really. She knows them all like the back of her hand. Y/N doesn’t like much about herself, but she’s always known she’s a good friend. She’s always known she has a kind heart, that she puts others first and she’s attentive and considerate.

Y/N wears her heart on her sleeve and all people do is tug and tug and tug until eventually, the stitching is stretched to tattered threads and it’s barely hanging on.

She has a good heart but along the way, she’s lost her voice. Her voice of confidence, of self-worth. She’s lost her courage to fight for herself. It’s an odd thing about her, something she’s only recently come to realise.

Her self-doubt and anxiety cripple her from doing much for herself. Booking appointments, asking for assistance, expressing her emotions if it means she needs to show vulnerability in fear of becoming a burden. And yet with her friends? She can do it all in the blink of an eye. She can sacrifice sleep and food to help a friend through a rough patch. She can encourage them to seek proper help and offer support. She can comfort people without making them feel like their emotions are troublesome to her.

Yet, she can’t speak up in fear of being ignored -- in fear of people knowing she’s been ignored -- in fear of people watching her be ignored. She can’t speak up about her vulnerable feelings, about what her anxiety puts her through, about how she doesn’t feel good enough. She doesn’t think she can stomach a pat on the back and a “cheer up!” She doesn’t think she can handle them telling her it’s all true. Telling her that no, she isn’t good enough.

She can’t handle the embarrassment of anyone using it against her -- as a bit of friendly banter that’ll actually crush her to a bloody stump.

Y/N’s done a good job of it if she’s honest -- of keeping her feelings and emotions to herself. Not that any of her friends have ever really made an effort to ask or to understand the way her body has its tells for every emotional turmoil she faces.

But she’s surrounded by beautiful people all the time and she doesn’t think she’s anywhere near their standards. So while, for moments, she can force herself to forget about those things, she’s always reminded that she isn’t enough because they’re all so much more than her.

She doesn’t know how people have picked up the way she shifts uncomfortably when sex is mentioned, or dates and guys and women. She gets anxious that one of them will ask her about her love life, or if she joins in and agrees that a certain guy is attractive that they’ll laugh and tease her that she doesn’t have a chance.

She can’t handle that.

Maybe that’s why she hasn’t told anybody about her incredibly overwhelming love for Harry for the past three years.

Because Harry is undoubtedly too good for her. He’s handsome and smart, kind and compassionate. He’s overwhelmingly talented and his voice is a soothing drawl that she thinks is the most relaxing sound in the world. And what’s she? She isn’t knee-buckling gorgeous. Barely even girl-next-door pretty. She isn’t talented like him and their friends, she doesn’t have a thing about her that everyone relates her to. And yes, she’s kind and compassionate, but she doesn’t think that’s enough.

It’s not enough.

It’s never enough.

So she keeps it to herself. She pretends like it doesn’t kill her to watch him pine after models and bring them around for their group activities, she pretends it doesn’t hurt when he gushes about some girl when they’re in the studio, writing up his experiences. She pretends it doesn’t kill her when most days, he doesn’t spare her a glance.

Y/N knows she doesn’t help her own predicament -- that she should definitely be speaking up about how alone and neglected she feels by her friends. She knows that she should be searching for her happiness instead of wasting her time on people that don’t care. She knows she shouldn’t be such a pushover, but she doesn’t have it in her.

So, she pretends that she’s happy and they all fall for it. Or maybe they don’t and they just don’t care enough to ask.

It’s been a long day, a gruelling 10 hours in the studio and while they’re struggling for a melody and some lyrics, Y/N’s got the perfect beat and the most vulnerable words. She’s yet to tell them, though. Every time she’s opened her mouth, someone’s cut her off and a little bit of her courage has been chipped at each intervention.

“Think we should maybe change the melody of it? Maybe make it slower?” Harry’s fingers are gently strumming at the guitar strings, his head cocked to the side as he watches Mitch copy the gentle melody he plays.

Y/N purses her lips, the confidence to suggest her ideas shot through the window. She catches a glimpse of her watch, noticing the time and her eyes bulge slightly. She’s got five minutes to get to her sisters to watch her niece for the night, how did she forget the time!?

Slowly standing from her seat, she searches around for her purse and checks her phone. No texts or calls, that’s a good sign. If she’s fast enough, she’ll only be a couple of minutes late.

“You off?” Sarah pipes up, notices the bag hanging from Y/N’s shoulder.

She nods. “Yeah, forgot I have my niece for the night.” She waves goodbye, voice gentle as she leaves the room of the studio.

It’s not until she’s halfway down the hall she hears a voice call out for her and she halts in her tracks. Turning, she sees Harry jogging over to her, Y/N’s heart in her throat as he smiles kindly.

“Is it okay if I pop by your sisters later? Maybe you could help me go through some lyrics or something?”

Y/N can’t help the subtle blush at his suggestion, the idea of him wanting to spend time alone with her, that he wants her input on lyrics for a single.

So she nods with a beaming smile, fuzziness in her blood and she thinks she might be safe enough to suggest the music she wanted to earlier.

“Um, actually. I played around with some chords and lyrics a few days ago, if you maybe wanted to give them a try? Totally get it if they’re not any good, though.”

She laughs it off in a desperate attempt for him to not think she’d be upset if he didnt like her music, but in reality, it would absolutely, undoubtedly crush her.

Harry nods, a sigh of appreciation slipping off his tongue and he takes the notes from her hands gleefully.

“Thanks, petal. I’ll give you a call when I’m on my way.”

With a swift kiss to her cheek, she watches as Harry jogs back into the studio room, leaving her a nervous and overwhelmed mess.

It’s not until almost 11pm that Y/N receives a call that Harry is on his way over from the studio. Ayla has been asleep for the past 4 hours and Y/N has spent her free time with a couple glasses of wine and some music sheets.

The wine has mostly been to help the nerves if she’s honest. It’s not often she and Harry spend much time alone together, and she feels quite honoured that Harry has come to her for lyrical help.

“Knock knock,” she hears a gentle voice call from the hall as Harry lets himself in, mindful not to wake a sleeping Ayla.

“In here,” Y/N calls back, heart racing and she knows she’s stupid for feeling this way. It’s Harry, just Harry.

When he walks in, she gets a good look at him and her brows involuntarily raise. Flushed cheeks, slightly dishevelled hair.

“What exactly did you get up to when I left?”

Harry chuckles, running a hand through his messy mop and plopping beside her on the sofa. “Mitch got a couple bottles of wine to celebrate the new single.”

Y/N raises a brow again, lips pursed together. She knows she’s babysitting, but yet another event that she’s not been included in. The new single is ready and no one bothered to tell her. It’s like she’s not even part of the team.

“New single… it’s finished then?”

Harry nods enthusiastically. “All thanks to you, petal. That music and those lyrics… where did it come from? Y/N, it’s literally perfect.”

She blushes at the comment, at the complement. She doesn’t know where to look, she just knows she can’t look at him. So she looks to her lap and shrugs her shoulders in response.

“Just words.”

Harry scoffs, takes her hands in his and she swears she's about to throw up. “They’re not just words, Y/N. That song is beautiful.”

Y/N smiles sheepishly. “You think so?”

“I know so. I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

She meets his eyes again, a drunken gloss over his iris’, cheeks still flushed and lips just perfectly plump.

Harry notices the way she watches his mouth, finds himself staring at hers. Those pretty plump lips. He’s never been this close to her before, never really looked at her in this way.

She’s pretty, he can’t deny that. Reckons she’s got this most simplistic beauty. Nothing about her stands out, but there’s not anything about her that he’d change.

Y/N’s about to move away, to clear her throat and offer him a drink, but Harry’s hand reaches for her jaw and he smears his lips against her in a drunken mess of a kiss.

And it’s not just a peck, no. His lips encapsulate hers, tongue dancing along the tip of hers, fingers grasping at the hair on the side of her head. She kisses him back, just as feverishly, her mind on overdrive at the fact that Harry is kissing her.

Harry is kissing her.

But just as quickly as it starts, it stops.

Harry pulls away with a sharp breath, Y/N desperately trying to catch hers. Her fingers reach for her mouth, trying to believe that this really happened.

It takes a moment for her to realise Harry is no longer holding the side of her face, that he’s shuffled a foot or two away from her on the sofa, eyes wide as if he didn’t mean to do what he just did.

And her heart sinks.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

She shakes her head and clears her throat. “No, it’s okay, really I-“

“No, it’s not,” he cuts her off. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what came over me.”

Y/N’s shoulders deflate, a lump swelling in her throat at what he’s just said. He regrets kissing her.

“I think I should go.”

She doesn’t look at him when he stands, she can’t face him, or the look of disgust she’s sure he has.

“Let’s uh, let’s just forget about this,” he motions between the two of them. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone. It was a mistake, I’m sorry.”

The bittersweet taste of rejection pools in her eyes, heart sinking to the very bottom of her feet that stay planted on the carpet beneath her. She doesn’t hear Harry apologise again, nor does she hear him walk away and out the door.

Instead, all she can hear is white noise breaking through the sickening silence.

Y/N can’t breathe, not properly. She’s panting through shallow breaths, begging her lungs to offer some relief. To no avail.

The only thing that seems to break through the silence, is the consistent pinging of her phone. She blindly reaches for it, praying and hoping it’s Harry. Praying he’s apologising and begging to come back and confess that he just got scared, that he doesn't regret the kiss.

But it’s not.

Her phone is filled with messages from the group chat, all congratulating Harry for the finalisation of the single. Y/N is about to lock her phone and throw it across the room when she catches a glimpse of a text from Mitch.

Congrats, H. Amelia is gonna love the song… wish you’d write a song about me xx

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #imagine harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles ansgt #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot

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dmwrites · 4 months

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Cleo was tired. The first few weeks on a new server always were. They were back at their starter base after a long walk to find some mangrove trees. Their starter base wasn’t much yet, but they could appreciate its simplicity as they collapsed on the only chair they owned. As soon as their butt hit the chair, though, there was a knocking sound on her front door.

“Hey, Cleo? Sorry to bother you so late.” Joe could be heard over his knocks.

Cleo stumped over to the door and opened it. “Joe, I- oh no, what happened?”

Joe looked up at them sadly, holding stuffing in his hands. He had a few arrows sticking out of his blue skin, and a slash in his stomach, where the stuffing was leaking from.

“I was caving, and I may have run into a skeleton spawner… and a stalagmite.” Joe replied sadly. “But with this new puppet body, I don’t know how to heal myself.”

“Oh Joe.” Cleo chuckled in sympathy. “I think you and I need to stop hanging out- we’re too alike.”

“What do you mean?” Joe asked, still clearly upset.

“You need stitches like I do to my own skin. Come in, I’ll show you how to do it.”

Cleo had the puppet of a man sit on the only chair, still cradling his stuffing, and went to get her scissors and industrial-grade string.

“Right, arrows out first.” Cleo told him, setting down her equipment. “You just hold onto that stuffing… wait, would those be your organs, technically?”

Joe looked down at the white fluff. “I guess so, yeah.”

“That’s so gross, I love it.” Cleo said, and reached for an arrow lodged in Joe’s shoulder. “Okay, ready? I’m gonna pull it out in three, two, one.” they tugged the arrow out, and looked for any signs of distress on Joe’s face.

“Oh, that didn’t hurt at all!” Joe said, a little more cheerfully. “Now that I’m thinking about it, none of my wounds hurt, it’s just the emotional part that got me.”

“You make being a puppet sound more and more appealing.” Cleo grumbled, pulling the other arrows out in rapid succession. “Alright, let’s deal with this stomach wound- did you bellyflop onto a spike? How on earth did you do this, Joe?”

“Yeah, that’s it, really.” Joe said sheepishly. “Wait, don’t you need gloves or other sanitation methods to do major surgery?” He continued as Cleo reached for his stuffing.

“You’re a fucking puppet, Joe, if an arrow does nothing to you, germs shouldn't either.” Cleo replied, giving him a withering look.

“You’re right! Okay, let’s stuff away!”

Joe and Cleo stuffed the stuffing (or guts, depended on how you looked at it) back into Joe. Cleo carefully sewed him back up, showing him how it was done as she did. In no time at all, Joe was all put together again.

“Okay, here’s your own scissors and string, so you should be set to go now.” Cleo said, handing her extra supplies over to the puppet.

“Oh, thank you for stuffing me full of the good stuff, Cleo!” Joe beamed.

“Good lord, don’t tell people I’ve been stuffing you full of the good stuff, Joe, or we won’t hear the end of it.” Cleo sighed, but waved Joe off nonetheless.

#hc10 #zombiecleo #Joe hills #still in the trenches of writing something else but hi lol

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hanafubukki · 11 days

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I binged your Lilia with a baby daughter and I couldn't get enough. Can you imagine if General Lilia gets yeeted into that timeline and he finds out that not only did his future self marry a human but also actually have a child with her. If current timeline Half Faces are already kinda rare so imagine from his time where he's at war with them. Also how Lilia's little girl interacting with her Papa (who isn't really her Papa but also isn't lmao) Also, MC who he is married to. I just wanna see his Tsun Tsun ass be flustered but confused lmao. Ok, thank youuu!

[referring to these posts: 1, 2, and 3]

Hello Anonie 🌺🌷🌻

I'm happy that you enjoyed them anonie! I had a blast writing them. 🌟💚

Ohhhh Anonie you guys know how to hit my weak spots 😂💕💜 Babies, General Lilia, time travel shenanigans oh my 🤣💚 You and me 🤝 wants to see General Lilia tsun tsun butt be flustered mwah chef kiss.

General Lilia being sent to the future is a curse and a blessing...depending on who you ask 😂 jkjk

Just thinking about it and I just?? Love the thought of General Vanrouge meeting a new born baby or up to a 1 year old. Something about him just holding her with these awkward hands just has me so soft 😩🥹

But then I also think our Lilia might be possessive and go ‘My Baby’ on him, even though that’s literally himself 🤣

I have so many thoughts sooo many on how General Vanrouge’s reaction to Malleus and Silver could go, and even Sebek. But more so on Malleus and Silver. Also his reaction to his future self too, you know??

In reverse, our Lilia’s reaction to his past self. It can go many ways as well. Depending on how General Vanrouge reacts. Papa instincts ✨

But we’ll skip that because this ask is about baby and General Vanrouge ✨✨

A part of me thinks that our Lilia is going to just yeet the baby at his past self. Deja vu right?? Don’t worry, he knows himself and knows the General will catch the little one.

After flicking Lilia on the forehead for his actions and letting Mal and Sil deal with him, you go to the General who’s frozen. He caught her of course, but he seems stumped on what to do.

You can’t blame him really. After being in war and seeing and dealing with what he has. This peace and quiet must be new, not to mention being in the future.

So you go to him and as gently as possible, making sure to not frighten him, move his hands so he’s more comfortably holding the baby.

Unknown to him, but his eyes softened as the little one curled into him while making cooing noises. You know your Lilia is taking a bunch of pictures.

“See? You’re a natural.”

He looks at you in disbelief but you can see the amazement in them too.

You tell him how he has no choice but to hold the baby now because she will cry if you move her from her new favorite spot. He flusters a bit at that.

Time goes on, General Vanrouge wears casual clothing and hangs up his armor temporarily after Lilia had a talk with him. His weapon is with him, you all understand why. His need to protect what’s his is engraved even though he doesn’t see it yet.

[Sometimes you see your Lilia looking at the armor. His eyes mixed with emotions. You simply lay your head on his shoulder; he kisses your hand]

The General gets attached to your daughter. She babbles at him and pulls at his hair. He tries not to flinch. For someone who was against raising kids, the General doesn’t say anything when your daughter stuffs his hair into her mouth or drools on him as she sleeps.

Lilia’s proud, “that’s my girl!” is often heard.

At one point, you take pity on him. You take a hairbrush, running it carefully through his hair before tying it in a high bun. You fondly roll your eyes at the pout your Lilia has before taking your daughter to feed. For the General’s sake, you chose not to comment on his flustered expression.

Our Lilia is repeatedly saying “spoilers” which irritates the General whenever he asks a question. You get why it’s frustrating but the scene is rather funny and your baby girl’s laughter agrees with you.

“I won’t have you ruining my future! I’ll have you know I wouldn’t change anything for the happiness I have now, so you have to be patient.”

Malleus and Silver both have the sweetest smile. They know exactly what he means.

The General watches how his future self acts. You can see the slight scowl and twitch of his eyebrow. He’s questioning his whole existence.

What surprises you is his question to you.

“Are you sure you want to be married to that?”

“Hey!”

You laugh softly, tenderly tucking a stray strand behind his ear, “Yes. He’s you, isn’t he?”

The smile you give him then has him falling deeper unbeknownst to him.

Anabskdkds okay, but why am I the one flustered now?? Qbskwjwjejr 😂💞🥰

Ahhhhh this was longer than I expected but I had so many ideas and I wanted to especially include that last one 🥹💞

Thank you for sending this in Anonie 😭💚 Currently screaming into a pillow and rolling in bed. Ahhhhh 💞💞💞💚💚

#answered #Anonie ask #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #twst silver #diasomnia #general lilia vanrouge #general lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #general Vanrouge x reader #general vanrouge #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #no major twst book 7 spoilers #mallleus draconia and twst silver mention

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partycatty · 2 months

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I don’t know if you’re open to requests but me and my friend have this hc and I would like to see your rendition of it. The reader is stressed about their Algebra test coming up and since Johnny has a PhD in quantum mechanics and deals with that stuff, he offers to help. And as the reader is thinking on the problem Johnny gives them, they put the pencil in their mouth seductively but are unaware of it and Johnny gets a little… riled up. And you can take it from there :)

Love ya !! 🥰💜

ough i love me a big smart man

johnny cage > teach you a lesson

notes: my last fic took all of my mental strength for smut for now so it's only gonna be implied

[ masterlist ]

• damn you and your stubbornness, you're here trying to get your engineering degree and the class you put off all these years finally creeps up on you... and you hate math. thankfully, your best friend has a phd (which still baffles you when you think about it too much; not that he's stupid, more that it's so out of left field for him that you thought he was joking when he first told you).

• knocking on his door, he answers so quickly you wonder if he tumbled down the stairs to answer you in record time. he was always ready to do anything you asked of him, so you knew he was the right person to go to

• you explain the situation, about how you're teetering on the edge of just tearing your textbooks apart with your teeth before he slows you down with his hands on your shoulders.

• johnny ushers you in, welcoming you to his dining room after sweeping the various accumulation of stuff littering every surface to a degree.

• johnny's smarter than you gave him credit for, focusing on his well-articulated lecture but you find yourself missing the middle portion of his lessons when his veiny arms are exposed as he rolls up his shirt. his hands were so defined, so strong...

• "are you even listening?" he groans dramatically, waving said head in front of your face. "you wanna pass this class or not?"

• you swallow thickly, though the subject is still shamefully fuzzy in your mind. nodding slowly, johnny pinches the bridge of his nose before resuming.

• "maybe this'll be easier if we..." he leans over your seated form, towering over you as he flips your notes to a blank page over your shoulder. "here." he writes an example equation, a relatively easy one so he could break it down for you.

• shaking the dirty thoughts, you try to pick the equation apart, separating what you know is in the correct order of operations, but you're stumped when the denominators don't add up like they should.

• the tip of your pencil brushes against your bottom lip as your brows knit in thought. it swiped across the width of your lip, pushing in ever so slightly against your teeth as you desperately try to find a way past the confusion.

• johnny falls eerily silent, fists clenching as he breathing feels hot and heavy down your neck. he rubs his face, circling the table with a long sigh. the noise draws your attention, completely oblivious to how tight his pants were from the display.

• "sorry," you sheepishly look down at the paper. "this is... a lot."

• "no... no! you're fine!" johnny snaps himself back to reality at your puppy eyed expression, like his desperation for you was somehow your fault when it was really his for not knowing how to keep things in control.

• you feel smaller as you sink into the chair, trying to retrace your steps through the numbers. instinctively, the pencil finds its way to your mouth again and you gently suck on the shortened eraser, your tongue pressing against the head of it as the multiplication takes its time in your mind.

• johnny chokes on air, punching his chest to hide his flustered face. he can't even look at you or you might notice the steam from his ears.... why were you here again?

• "you're not helping," you remind him teasingly, and he jogs to your side with a cool breath to regulate his temperature. "did i do this right?"

• johnny leans down, his chin almost on your shoulder as he inspects your work. the error stands out to him at lightning speed and he pulls at your wrist, abruptly tugging the pencil from your mouth and slamming it against the table.

• "there," he huffs out, circling the error with his finger. "five over nine. not nine over five." his eyes flick between the back of your head and the pencil, and the way the eraser shines. he might pass out if he thinks too hard about it.

• he should've picked an easier equation so you'd stop thinking so damn hard about this, he thinks. the pencil wanders back between your lips and it's when you bite down on the pink tip his flat palm slaps the table, making everything rattle. you jump and look up with a shocked expression.

• "can you... not." he breathes, cheeks red and brows furrowed.

• "not... what?" you look down, maybe you had a bad habit in the math process?

• "don't do that." he's being vague, it's getting on your nerves.

• "you're gonna have to be clearer."

• "keep that thing away from your mouth," johnny points at your fingers twirling the pencil, an accusatory finger firm like he caught it committing a crime.

• "the pencil?" you're caught off guard, wondering what his issue is.

• "yes, the damn pencil!" he groans, running a hand down his face. "can't think straight for a single second when you're... you know."

• it clicks in your head, what he's asking of you. it flusters you but also fills you with an egotistical desire. you always had a lingering crush on your best friend, but you never wanted to act on it out of fear of losing the best thing that ever happened to you. johnny's deep, dark voice makes your core stir as you think about the possibilities, how to test the waters from here.

• you slowly place it flat against your tongue, trying to ignore the taste as you relish in the way johnny twitches his eye at the sight. he wants to look away but you're forcing him to, that knowing glint fatal for his heart. the thought of your tongue holding the heavy weight of his thumb, or worse, his dick, is driving him up the wall.

• johnny stomps beside you, grabbing your wrist and pulling the pencil away, managing to throw it out of your grasp and capturing your lips with his own as the pencil rolls off on its own adventure.

• his kiss is consuming, far too much for your mind as you grow dizzy at the loss of breath. his hands pull at your face and neck, trying to squish your face against his as he swallows every whimper and gasp for breath you expel.

• just as he pulls away to get oxygen, his thumb slides between your lips and presses against your tongue, your hot and heavy breath driving him wild.

• "are you really trying to do this to me?" he asks as your lips wrap around his finger, sucking gently. his eyes flutter shut and he groans, nodding downward with his head.

• "maybe," you quietly reply through his finger, sinking to your knees in front of him, sliding your hands up his outer thighs. you're perfectly in line with his crotch, but your eyes are too busy admiring the flustered actor above you as he looks down his nose. he pulls his thumb away, groaning at the thin trail of saliva that falls down your lip from the loss.

• "i'll teach you a lesson," he reaches for his belt buckle, the clinking of metal dulling every sense but your hearing.

• you can study later... probably.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut #marley writes ☆

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r0ttenhearts · 1 year

Text

Like A Dog II

“oh, you’re here.” you say flatly as you peer up at the grey-haired scholar, his hand leaving the edge of the door as he stood there with a stumped look on his face.

“(y/n)? you came back? i-”

“i’m not here for you, i’m just here for the rest of my stuff. kaveh said he packed it up for me.” you responded curtly as the mentioned blonde man exited his room.

“(y/n)! just in time. sorry i couldn’t beat him to the door.”

kaveh holds a taped up, brown box in his hands as he passes alhaitham, following you out the door as he takes it to your new home.

alhaitham watches you two leave his home, the smiles and laughs you once held for him were now directed towards kaveh. the way your mouth would crinkle up in a smile made his fist clench. kaveh’s close distance to you didn’t make things any better for alhaitham either.

shortly after alhaitham’s outburst you had gone to kaveh, asking him to help you find a new place as you could no longer stomach being under the same roof as alhaitham. kaveh happily obliged and helped you secure housing close to the akademia, your days were now filled with hangouts when the both of you were free from your studies, or in kaveh’s case, his blueprints.

as much as alhaitham pretended to ignore it, he hated seeing all of your belongings slowly disappear from your once shared home. the smell of your sweetly brewed coffee, your cat mugs you had gotten to represent the three of you, your romance novels that occasionally were laid on the coffee table were now gone. just an empty room and plain mugs resided in your places now, the coffee tasting bitter in the mornings as kaveh nor alhaitham could replicate it.

seeing kaveh stay all buddy buddy with you bothered him. an aching tightening in his chest as he saw you seek out his roommate rather than him. it’s not like you’d spend nights in kaveh’s sheets like you once did with alhaitham, but he figured it was just the same if you were.

after hours of kaveh not returning home, alhaitham’s phone pinged with a message.

tighnari: hey kaveh is here with (y/n) at puspa

tighnari: he’s very drunk. do you mind getting him?

alhaitham groaned as he read the message, putting his headphones on his ears as he made his way to the cafe. his eyes widened once he saw you were also drunk, babysitting a rather large glass of a clear liquid as tighnari patted your shoulder while kaveh was slurring next to you.

“why is he here?”

even in your drunken state, you were still angry with him. you wobbled as you stood up from your chair, pointing a finger at his chest as your face scrunched up. “you have no right to be here alhaitham. you don’t get to have fun with us anymore.”

alhaitham’s eyes slightly softened as he tried to put your shaking arm down, but you snatched it back in retaliation, almost as if he had burned you.

“don’t you touch me! you have no right to barge in here and take kaveh from me! he’s been here for me, let me keep his company.” you slurred as you stumbled, holding onto the top of your chair for stability.

alhaitham looked to cyno and tighnari who shrugged their shoulders, unaware of the dilemma that had occurred between the both of you. kaveh’s red face turned to alhaitham as he waved his hand.

“don’t need you ‘haitham doin’ jus’ fine without you.”

alhaitham grumbled as he took kaveh up by his shoulder, letting him lean against him as you looked to alhaitham with glossy eyes.

“please don’t take him from me.” you whispered, almost as if you were talking about something else, not of alhaitham taking your drinking buddy home.

“sorry (y/n.) make sure she gets home safely you two.”

alhaitham nods to the other two at your table as alhaitham takes kaveh’s drunken self home.

“you really hurt her you know.”

alhaitham stops in the doorway, kaveh’s alcohol ridden breath passing by his ear.

“she really loved you, and you tossed her out like nothin.’ you don’t know how many nights i had to comfort her, cryin’ n’ snotting on herself over you.”

“i know kaveh. i know i hurt her. but nothing i do will mend what’s happened. i miss her around here just as much as you do.”

alhaitham admitted as he closed the door, letting kaveh flop onto the couch as he splayed out.

“i loved— love, her. i hadn’t realized it at the time.”

he sighs, sitting on the couch next to kaveh’s drunken, laid out self. this admission of his guilt seemed to set in as the two men rested on that couch. the realization that you’d never forgive him, never wake up next to him, or smile to him again. it hurt. your absence hurt the scholar more than he wanted to admit.

alhaitham takes out his phone, tapping your contact as he pressed his phone to his ear. it goes to voicemail, of course. but that didn’t stop him.

“hey (y/n).. i understand this might be a bad time but i cannot hold these words in any longer. i feel terribly guilty for what i said to you, though i know i cannot fix things between us, i want you to know that i didn’t mean a sentence i said that night. not a word of it.

i actually— these past few weeks i’ve come to this.. realization. you likely don’t want to hear it from me but..

I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids.

I don’t deserve your kindness or your love again but these feelings will eat me from the inside out if i don’t tell you. I love you (y/n) and i’m so fucking sorry for what i’ve done to us.

I miss you. I miss us. I miss the smell of your hair tickling my nose when i held you in my bed, your warmth when you’d lean against me while we read.

I miss all of you.

I’m sorry for spouting this to you when you’re intoxicated, but i’m afraid if I don’t say it now I never will.

I don’t expect your forgiveness. I just want you to know. I’m sorry (y/n). I only wish for your happiness now.”

alhaitham sighed, tapping the red hang up button as he tossed his phone onto the coffee table. kaveh’s drunken snores next to him as he sat there in the dark. he stood up from the couch, going to the kitchen and picking out a strong vodka as he sat back down next to kaveh, uncapping the bitter liquid as he gulped it down. the alcohol numbed his senses, but even in his now drunken state he could hear your voice.

“i don’t forgive you, alhaitham.”

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #alhaitham #alhaitham angst #alhaitham x reader

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 2 months

Text

I have a plan...

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: Y/n plans to escape the camp, but she's not running away alone...

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ killing people/ burning a building/ Y/n being a dystopian main character/ use of Y/n/ kissing/ not following the story line/

Word count: 1.9k

She was a shy person, never talked back, took the punch the Germans gave her, she was the perfect person. Y/n was at the wrong place at the wrong time, one day, she was coming back from the market, but German soldiers stopped her to check her papers, but she forgot them at home. She was accused of being a spy and was thrown into a POW camp. Bucky didn’t understand her, why she wasn’t fighting, why she didn’t say that she wasn’t a spy. If he was in her place, he would’ve tried to run away.

Buck was ordering the soldiers to pull the stump, Y/n was sitting beside them, on the stairs, reading a book. ‘’Y/n, why don’t you come and help’’ one of them spat. She looked at him, said nothing and continued to read her book. ‘’Whatever, you’re useless anyway’’ he mumbled. ‘’Shut up, Crank’’ Buck defended the woman. She was in her own world, Y/n didn’t even hear Buck. As she read the pages of her book, an idea came to her mind, she didn’t want to run away alone, if she escaped, she was bringing everyone with her. She was reading For Whom the Bells Tolls from Ernest Hemingway, the story inspired her to riot against her captors, she was going to burn this place to the ground.

‘’Y/n, you’re more silent than usual, what’s on your mind?’’ Bucky asked the woman, who was looking outside. She looked at him, smiled and blinked. ‘’Do any of you have a lighter?’’ she asks, with a raspy voice. ‘’Why do you need a lighter?’’ Murph asked her. ‘’Stuff’’ she simply replied. ‘’Stuff, what stuff?’’ Bucky asked as he handed her his lighter. ‘’Just be ready, soon, we’ll run away.’’ she announces. Crank starts to laugh, not believing what he was hearing. ‘’Yeah right, and I’m the Queen Elizabeth’’ he laughed. But Y/n wasn’t laughing. ‘’Thank you for the lighter, Bucky’’ she thanked him. After eating, she quickly cleaned the knife before beginning to chop her hair off. She had long hair, something the Germans could identify her with, now, she cut them off, barely recognizable. ‘’Why did you cut your hair off?’’ Buck asked. ‘’I was tired of having them this long’’ she partially lied. It was true, but it was so that the soldiers didn’t recognize her.

‘’What are you planning, Y/n?’’ Bucky whispered. She turned her head to look at the men. Everyone else was asleep, she was awake to think about every last detail of her plan. ‘’Can I trust you?’’ she whispered back. Bucky nodded, getting closer to the woman. ‘’I don’t know when, but I’ll do something that is going to give everyone a chance to escape’’ she said, not wanting to give away her hole plan. Bucky was confused, she seemed truthful, but she was to shy to do anything. ‘’Can I help?’’ he asked. Y/n looks at him, she thought he was going to laugh. ‘’Can you find me flammable liquids, like alcohol or gasoline?’’ she asks. ‘’Why? Planning on making a bonfire?’’ he chuckles. ‘’Kind of, and can you show me how to use a gun?’’ she asked, seriously. ‘’Y/n, what the hell are you planning?’’ he asked, concerned. ‘’You’re going to help me or not?’’ she asked, kind of annoyed that he was asking 300 questions. ‘’Yes, but – ‘’ they got cut off by another voice. ‘’I’m helping too, what’s the plan?’’ Buck asked as he got down from his bunk. ‘’Is there another person that is awake?’’ Y/n asked, no one else responded. ‘’I can’t tell you everything, just can you find something to start a fire and I need to know how to use a gun’’ she repeats.

It has been 2 weeks since they had their talk, Bucky found some alcohol that could be used to start a fire, and Buck showed her how to use a gun. She was ready, so was her plan. Tonight was the night, she warned Buck and Bucky to be ready to run, but the two of them were really confused. It was about 0200 in the night when the boys heard commotions outside.

Y/n entered the supply building, with the alcohol bottle tucked in her vest. She was dressed in black; she took Bucky’s cloths to do so. She saw a pistol on a wooden crate, she took it as she began to pour alcohol all over the room. She heard German soldiers coming, so she hid behind something, with a mirror she found, she looked at them, they weren’t armed, and they were drunk. She had to think, because if she shot them, it would be too loud, and her plan could fail. It was dark in here, there was no lights, so she took a wooden weapon she crafted and planted it in one of the men’s throats, before the other could realize it, Y/n had already killed him. She was officially a killer, but she killed for justice, she had enough. She took the men’s guns and put them in her pocket, after all she could use them. She continued to put the flammable liquid all over the floor. ‘’Oi! What are you doing?’’ one soldier yelled. Shit she’d been caught, luckily, he was alone. She turned around, pointing the gun at him. ‘’Hands in the air’’ she ordered. The men looked afraid, but as he put his hand in the air, he began to yell and ask for help.

The sound of a gun shot echoed around camp; Buck looked at Bucky. ‘’What the hell did she do?’’ they saw soldiers running to the supply building, so they got outside and ran too. They wanted to see what was going on.

She walked outside, guns in her pocket as she looked at the trail of alcohol on the floor, Germans were running towards her, so she lit the lighter and dropped it on the ground. The building automatically caught on fire and a siren was ringing in the camp. She ran towards the fence she told the guys to meet her. They waited for her at the gate, Bucky saw her running towards them. She had blood on her, she was panting, but she had a knife in her hands. ‘’Move’’ she ordered as she cut open the fence.

Run, that’s what her brain was telling her to do. Her, Buck, Bucky, Murph, Crank, Alexender and Richard were running in the filed next to the camp. Y/n was smiling and laughing, even if it was for a minute; she was free. German soldiers were running after her, dogs too. ‘’We’re going to reach a bridge, trust me and jump in the water’’ she panted. ‘’You’re crazy!’’ Alexender said. ‘’Hey, I got you out! Do as I say!’’ she mentally rolled her eyes as they reached the bridge. ‘’C’mon don’t be scared’’ she breathed out. But they all hesitated, that gave time for the Germans to catch up a little bit. They were shooting at them. ‘’You want to get shot or what?’’ she asked them. She didn’t wait for their answers as she jumped in the water. The water was deep enough so she wouldn’t hurt herself. When the guys saw that she jumped, they followed her. ‘’Stick to the side and don’t move’’ she whispered to them. They all got closer to the side of the river, they wanted to wait for the German to see that they drowned.

The sun was rising as they continued to walk in the forest, they didn’t know how far they were from the camp, but they’ve been walking all night. No one had said a thing since the river, only when Y/n asked who the better shooter was to give the 3 guns she grabbed from the supply room. That was the only time they’ve talked. ‘’Okay, we can take a break’’ she announced as she sat on a rock. They catch their breath, looking at each other, laughing in relief. ‘’What the hell did you do?’’ Murph chuckles, looking at the woman. ‘’I made the supply building blow up, killed 3 guys and escaped’’ she sighed, smiling. ‘’So, that was the gun shots we heard?’’ Richard asked. Y/n nodded, wiping off the sweat on her forehead. ‘’I only shot one, the two other I stabbed them with the wood weapon I crafted’’ she explains. ‘’Thank you, Y/n, I can’t say how much I want to kiss you for getting us out’’ Bucky chuckles. They all start to laugh. ‘’Not so useless after all, right Crank?’’ she teased. ‘’Useful as fuck’’ he exhaled, smiling. ‘’C’mon, we have to walk more, we’re going to unoccupied Slovakia, or someplace where we can find American soldiers’’ she explains. ‘’You thought about everything, didn’t you?’’ Bucky smirked. ‘’Told you I had a plan’’ she smiled.

They.ve been walking for 4 days, taking little breaks to rest, hunting animals to eat, but the main goal was reaching American soldiers. As they reached a small village, they heard soldiers talk, they stopped to talk and began to listen to the voice. They caught small sentence, but it was in English. ‘’We did it’’ Buck smiled. They got out, with their hands in the air, to show that they weren’t a threat. ‘’We’re Americans!’’ Buck announced. The soldiers turned around and looked at the group. ‘’Keep your hands in the air!’’ one of them ordered. ‘’Tom, calm down, they look like POW’’ one of his colleagues announced. ‘’Where did you guys come from?’’ Tom asked. ‘’Stalag Luft 3, Poland’’ Y/n explains. ‘’What?’’ the Americans soldiers couldn’t believe it, they traveled that far, it was impressive. ‘’You guys are safe now.’’

Y/n head was leaning against Bucky’s shoulder, they were in the plane ride back to his base. ‘’Where are you going to go?’’ Bucky asked the woman. ‘’I don’t know, I can’t go back home, anyway, there’s nothing left for me there. I’ve been gone for 6 months; my village probably thinks I’m dead’’ she vented. ‘’They’re not going to let me fly again, why don’t you come live with me on the base?’’ he suggested. Y/n lifts her head up and looks at the men. ‘’Is this a twisted way of asking me out?’’ she smiled. Bucky opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Y/n giggled before getting closer to him. ‘’I’ll gladly come and live with you’’ she said, against his lips. He was flustered and red like a tomato. His instincts kicked in as he closed the gap between them and kissed her. She immediately kissed him back as she put a hand behind his neck. ‘’Argh! Get a room!’’ Murph gaged in disgust. Y/n smiled as she pulled away from the kiss. ‘’We will’’ Bucky whispered, only for Y/n to hear. The woman blushed and giggled. They escaped the camp, without any important injuries and now they were tied together for life. Even if they didn’t tell her, each man was grateful for her, she saved their lives. Bucky was going to repay her by spending the rest of his life with her, because he was in love with her. And she was in love with him…

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #master of the air imagine #john egan x reader #major john egan #john egan #gale buck cleven #alexander jefferson #richard macon

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riotlain · 2 years

Note

You still take requests???

If so could you write hcs about batboys realizing they're in love 🥰 (with male reader if you could) (if you did before could you share link 🙏) Love you...

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG JT GOT BURIED UNDER DRAFTS IM SORRY 😭😭

THIS IS A NWLNW BLOG!! WOMEN DNI

Dick Grayson

When he realizes hes in love with you

HES DOWN HORRENDOUS

ok he's like probably really bad at hiding his feelings so he ends up like flirting like prolly more often

Bottom of the barrel shit sometimes too

Bro would straight up say "Nice cock" if he had balls

Batfam teases him for how obvious he is

Depending on whether or not youre a superhero he's gonna be protective

Like yea as a civilian hes protective enough. Gotham is very dangerous!!

If you're a superhero too than he'll probably be a bit less protective... or atleast try to be

"Y/n can handle dealing with Poison Ivy himself it'll be fine... I'll go show up just in case."

If you're a villain though he's always the one to arrest you (he lets you go)

He aint the elaborate plan type of guy when it comes to this

So he one night jusy thinks "Yea im def gonna fess to him"

So no matter if youre civilian, hero, or villain he'll confess with a bouquet of flowers under the moonlight with some shit pick up line

Jason Todd

Used to have internalized homophobia but now hes over it... mostly

If youre a villain he'll straight deny his feelings for the longest time

Civilian or hero though? He'll definitely flirt

As in he just shows that he wants to protect you I guess

It honestly took him a while to realize he had feelings for you

Like yeeaaa hes gotten with alot of women and all but like with you? Something is hitting different and he doesn't know what

Roy finds out for him

He found out and teased Jason and Jason is just like "Wait what🧍‍♂️"

So with this new found crush how will Jason approach it?

Hes either really blunt or will completely avoid it all together 💀💀

Like i'm ngl you gon have to make the first move

Tim Drake

He found out he was bisexual and really went "Oh🤨??...OH😲"

Like if you just go to school with him he'll like try to hang out with you more

If you're a hero he's going on patrol more often just to hang around

And if youre a villain💀💀 He definitely tries to keep up the hero facade but like

Fucks it up with getting nervous

"I dont wanna hurt him too bad so he hates me. Wait he's trying to kill me though. I think he is???"

Has definitely lost a few fights with you bc of that 😭😭

Damian found out first (analytical lil shit) and made fun of him

Not in the homophobic way but in the way where his brother has a crush and looks like an idiot

"Drake you look like an utter idiot."

He tries to be smooth (Advice from Dick ofc) and fails

He does the thing where he tries to lean against a wall and fell the other way😭😭

Man just ask him out so he can quit embarrassing himself please

Damian Wayne

Def has internalized homophobia sorry

You know he isnt the best at his feelings so when he's around you he goes a bit crazy-

'I think of Y/n as a friend. Why would I think more of him as more?? Is it normal for me to like boys???? Dear god.'

Asks Alfred about it (One of the batbros prolly heard him though and barge in I'm ngl)

He isn't sure how to go about uh... "Courting you" as he calls it

Like yea he gets the kinda stuff to do for girls he's read many novels on that

But boys??? Hes stumped

He ends up stalking all the couples in his school for an answer

And probably ends up avoiding you :((

Whenever you try to confront him he just says "Its nothing." and leaves

Buuttt one day he ends up spilling everything on accident

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lollytea · 1 year

Note

how do think willow and hunter first talked about them being bi/pan? or do you think it's just so accepted on the boiling isles that they probably would never bring it up?

(This ask is from back when we got the bi/pan confirmation and I've been saving it, kinda thinking of putting effort into writing something cute and good quality. However I ended up waking up from a nap while the Q&A was happening and somebody told my confused disoriented ass that Zeno was talking about Hunter exploring his identity and going on dates while in the human realm. And I tapped out something very messy and stream of consciousness-y in my notes app in my sleepy state. So you're getting this instead. I don't feel like cleaning it up.)

Like like like it's. Luz putting together her little coming out slideshow for Camila. And the topic of sexualities comes up. And Amity and Willow puzzle out what theirs are nearly immediately. Gus doesn't but he's unfazed by it. While Hunter is like....I...can't say for certain and its bothering me. Like this is a THING that has a chance of helping him feel like more of a person. He wants his very own flag. He just doesn't know what it is yet. He'd like to know.

He likes Willow. He knows he likes Willow. But...there isn't a flag for liking Willow. (As far as he knows. He's thinking of making one. But for now he's stumped.)

There's a very specific route the kids take to the grocery store to collect stuff for Camila. Hunter likes to take the task because he likes feeling useful. Willow also likes to help but she'd be lying if she said another reason wasn't long walks with Hunter. Usually one of the other kids tags along too. Or more than one. But today it's just Hunter and Willow.

They always pass that damn statue but Hunter always averts his eyes and hopes Willow does too. He doesn't like to look at it. But maybe if he turned his gaze towards it every once in a while he'd notice the boy who always sits beneath the statue with a little handheld game console. The boy who always lifts his head when Hunter strolls by.

This is the day when the boy chooses to be brave. There's no gaggle of friends around him today. Just one girl. This is it. This is his chance. The boy marches up to Hunter and Willow in a way that Hunter immediately clocks as similar to his own Golden Guard body language. When he was trying to feel big but failing miserably.

The boy IS big tho. That's the weird thing. Tall with broad shoulders and chunky arms. A cluster of metal pierced into his left ear and a silver stud in his nose. He looks....so cool. So very very cool. Hunter misses the first words out of this dude's mouth cuz he was too busy looking at him and he needs to repeat himself.

So. Hm. Okay. Well. APPARENTLY. Piercings boy thinks Hunter is cute. Which is a staggering revelation that leaves Hunter a little speechless. And if that weren't surprising enough, he's now pushing a little piece of paper in Hunter's direction, babbling something about talking some time. Or maybe going out, whatever.

While all this is going down Willow just.....watches. Smiling. Nudging Hunter when it's his turn to speak and he's forgotten. It's cute. He gets like that with her sometimes too. It made her feel very cool and pretty that she made such a handsome boy nervous. But now....she's watching this little interaction play out and she's realizing....

Hunter's obvious little crush on her. Just how easy would it go away if he met somebody cooler. Somebody prettier. Somebody who's not clearly living a lie and hiding everything from everyone all the time. Somebody brave enough to actually ask him out.

It seems like just as she's getting comfortable in these kinds of situations, an Amity always sweeps in. And that's fine. She's used to it by now.

And also...she....she really cares about Hunter. He's been getting so much happier and experimental in the Human Realm. She wants him to try new things. She wants him to figure out who he really is. And....maybe that version of himself won't always have a little crush on Willow Park. Maybe he'll realize that there's better people out there. And that's okay. Whatever it takes for him to smile.

There's something very ugly writhing in her stomach and Willow pretends it's not there. Instead she yanks up her smile wider and as the mystery boy strides away, she pounces on Hunter. She teases him a little, she asks why he got so very shy. Is it because he liiiiiiiikes Mr Mystery Boy huh? And Hunter doesn't know what to say. He doesn't KNOW Mr Mystery Boy. Willow counters that's what the number is for. That's what dates are for. After a long back-and-forth discussion, its Willow that urges him to dial that number. They have to borrow Camila's phone. And Willow stands there as moral support as Hunter stumbles through the question.

Hunter has a date this Saturday. Which is very exciting. And also weird. And scary. He blushes whenever you bring it up. But Willow happily hypes him up for it every day leading up to it.

On Saturday, Hunter leaves the house at mid day and Willow sees him off, waving enthusiastically. He smiles softly and waves back at her, still twitchy with nerves. She gives a finger guns and assures him it's gonna go fine. He's a catch! This makes him giggle and she swells with pride.

The door clicks shut. Hunter is gone. It feels like a light has been sucked out of the household. Willow's smile slips.

She could head upstairs and hang out with the other girls. She could go down to the basement with Gus. But....right now she'd prefer to be alone.

Willow cleans the kitchen, which Camila is very grateful for once she gets home from work. And then she settles in the living room, snuggles up on the couch and throws something on the TV. Willow sits there and watches for hours. She barely processes any of it. And yet, she's simultaneously so wrapped up in the television that she doesn't hear the door click.

"Eyyyyy, I'm back," Hunter says in that awkward way he always announces his return. And just like that, a light switches and Willow is all zazzed again.

"Ooooooh Casanova has returned!!" She chirps. "A little.....earlier than I expected....?"

Hunter looks a little sheepish but doesn't comment on that. Willow thumps the couch cushion opposite her. "Cmere boy. Tell me everything."

Hunter sits down beside her and after turning to look at her huge grin, he smiles warmly.

"What?" She asks.

"Nothing."

"You gonna tell me how it went?"

"Fine. Um. Normal. For a date. I think? I dunno I've never been on one but I'm pretty sure I did an okay job."

Willow decides to rip the bandaid off immediately. "Any lip action?"

Hunter's reaction was a funny choking noise and a volatile flush across his neck "No!" He blurted. "Just...."

"Juuuuust?"

"Just hands! He held my hand! He held my hand and it was nice! I liked it!"

"Oh."

It's nice that Hunter got his hand held. He has such pretty hands. She's always thought they were very holdable. She's really happy. She's delighted. Just great.

She's a good person who is happy when good things happen to her friends, Titandamn it. And not a secretly ugly resentful person who wishes for selfish things.

"Yeah and. Uh..." He's scrubbing the back of his neck. "We...um. Ended up talking. A lot."

"About date number two, no doubt...." Willow sings.

"There's not going to be a date number two," Hunter answers immediately, knocking Willow out of her depth.

.....huh?

"I....thought you liked him?" She asks.

"I mean. Yeah. He's. He's nice but...but when I said we talked a lot...I might have told him that...." Hunter trails away.

"Told him what?"

There's a pause before Hunter speaks again, his voice a little higher pitched. "Oh! J-just. Just told him about a ton of stuff. Told him I like birds. And I like to read. And...and about Camila being a vet and....and I talked a lot about my friends. Gus. A-and Luz and Amity. And Vee. And uh. And you. And....we...we both decided that this probably wasn't gonna work out."

"Oh...." Willow....doesn't know how to feel about this. She doesn't have to pretend to be disappointed because she really is. Her friend had a chance to have a sweet little romance with somebody cute. And it just didn't work out. "I'm sorry, Hunter,"

But Hunter shakes his head. "I'm not disappointed. I actually....um. I liked it. I've never been on a date before and it....I dunno, it made me feel like a real teenager. Which is dumb to say because I know I AM a real teenager but..."

He perks up. "Oh! Oh and-and um...." His words tumble one over the other though there's a grin tugging at the corner of his lip. "Josh and I we....we figured it out. Me. We...we figured out me. I'm..."

He catches himself and clears his throat, extending a hand to her. "Hi, Willow! My name is bisexual!...Wait! Wait, no! Hunter! My name is....I'm bisexual and I'm Hunter! I...Agh!! Josh said I should come out to you in a smooth way but...."

Willow is grinning ear to ear, always transfixed by his frequent fumbles over the complicated act of putting words together. "You're bisexual!" She declares happily. "Hunter that's fantastic!"

Hunter's smile is soft but there's a hint of pride there too. "Yeah...thanks. I know it is...."

A pause.

"I have completely forgotten what bisexual means tho," Admits Willow.

"O-oh! Oh it's just um. I-I like multiple genders. Today I found out for certain that boys are....wow...."

Willow smirks. "Boys are wow?"

"Well.....arent they?"

She thinks about it for a moment, raking her eyes across the splotchy blush still clinging to his pretty face. Her insides are in a riot of fluttering flower petals.

"I guess they are," She agrees fondly.

"But also I...." He cuts himself off with a sudden bout of breathlessness. He inhales sharply. "Girls..."

"Girls," Repeats Willow expectantly.

Hunter, who has cut his gaze down to his tangling fingers, looks back up at her, manages to hold eye contact for a few very telling extra seconds and says, very clearly. "Girls."

"I see..." Willow is a little frustrated to find that she's also a little short of breath. "So maybe your next date will be with a girl then,"

Hunter's blush flares. "I'd like it to be..." He mumbles. "But..."

"Buuuuuut?"

There's some sort of internal battle raging on. She can see it in the violent twist and turns of his facial expressions. Finally, his throat bobs. "Nothing." He answers.

"Sorry...." He continues. "For coming home early. I just really wanted to...." Why does he keep trailing off? "It looks like you were trying to have some time to yourself. I can leave if...."

"You stay right here, Mr heartbreaker," Says Willow. "Stay here and watch weird human crystal ball shows with me."

A stiffness she didn't notice until now melts out of his shoulders. "Okay. I'd like that. A lot."

Hunter attempts to shuffle into a comfortable position, but what he's not prepared for is his friend Willow suddenly lunging and knocking him against the cushions in a tight tackle hug.

"Congratulations on your name being Bisexual," She mutters against the fabric of his shirt. "I like being the first one told,"

"N-no problem...." His voice cracks a little.

It takes maybe three minutes of comfortable silence and human realm TV babbling for Hunter to pipe up "And I'm not a heartbreaker. I didn't break anyone's heart."

"You could," Willow answers smoothly, not taking her eyes off the TV. "You have way more power over some people's hearts than you realize."

#huntlow

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pro-gamer-moves · 9 months

Text

Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so here’s the Chain waking up and putting on makeup.

Time was woken, as usual, by the sounds of chaos.

“Give it back!”

“I just want to borrow it! Use one of your other four shades!”

“No, I need all of them! Give me back my eyeliner!”

Ooh. The “e” word. That was never good.

Time reluctantly sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s the problem, boys?”

Four ran over to him while pointing angrily at Wind, who was standing on top of a stump at the edge of camp. “Wind took my blue eyeliner and he won’t give it back!”

Wind stomped his foot. “I’m going to give it back, I just need to use it really quick!”

“No, you can’t! If you use just the blue it will run out faster than the others and I won’t be able to replace them all at the same time!”

“That’s a stupid reason!”

Time held up his hand before the argument could continue. “Calm down guys. Wind, give Four his eyeliner back, you can use mine.”

Wind pouted and marched over, reluctantly handing the eyeliner back to Four. “Yours won’t match my tunic though. If I wanted boring black I would have used my own.”

Time raised his eyebrow and reached into his makeup bag. “Who says I only have black?”

Multiple heads turned. Warriors spoke up from where he and Legend were hunched over Legend’s Mirror Shield. “But you only ever wear black!”

Time chuckled. “I only ever wear black now. The things I put on my face in my younger days… Besides, I have enough color as it is with these markings.”

He handed Wind the blue eyeliner he had bought in Zora’s Domain and started applying his own foundation. He was running a little low on the good stuff with the moisturizer, he would have to start using his backup bottle soon.

Wild burst out of the bushes, lips purple and parts of his hair dyed to match. “Guys! I found these great berries! Don’t eat them or you’ll throw up, but they stain really nicely!” He paused and looked down. “Aww, Hyrule… Green eyeshadow again? Mix it up a bit!”

Hyrule shrugged. “I stick to what I know. Pass me the medium brush, would ya?”

Wild passed him the brush and ran over to bug Twilight, who was quietly sharing a mirror with Sky as they both did their eyes. Time smiled. It was mornings like these that really made him glad for whatever twists of fate had gathered them.

He glanced around to make sure nobody was watching, then pulled out a tin of extra-firm chuchu jelly he had traded the Troupe Leader’s Mask for after asking the Happy Mask Salesman how he got his hair so shiny. He covertly used his fingers to comb it through his bangs before anyone could notice. How he got his bangs to stick up so much was a matter of several bets among the other Links, more so than his age. If the secret got out he would never see his prized hair gel again.

Finally, he used a couple pencils to trace around the Fierce Deity markings- he used to try to hide them, until he realized the potential in artistic asymmetry. Look complete, he gathered his equipment and stood up.

“Everyone ready to go?”

“No!” Came the call from Legend. “Warriors still has to curl his lashes.”

“Shut up! If yours were this long you would curl them too!”

“Hey, I’m not judging man. Everybody is jealous of your ridiculous lashes.”

Eventually everyone was as beautiful as they wanted to be, and the Chain set off down the road. Dink had a very hard time resisting the urge to ask for their skincare routine, but eventually his burning hatred for anything hero related won out and they fought to the death again.

#linked universe #lu time #lu four #lu wind #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu legend #lu twilight #lu sky #makeup

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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months

Text

Flirting with Eyeless Jack

yay another mini series for creepypasta stuff (other being that date night series i did a while back.. i was going to do another character for that but i got most of the characters done that i can comfortably write romantic for) anyways,... uhuhuhuh this is just an excuse for me to write something for my boy

honestly as much as i love the idea of jack being a really huge flirt in contrast to him being a hermit and even before that not being that social/socially experienced i love the "oblivious character" trope way more so hes being oblivious today on this blog

the type to look at you for a minute after you say a flirty joke or pick up line, totally not understanding that you're flirting with him.. probably asks you to explain the joke or line because hes genuinely stumped at what youre saying

if you wanna see that boy blush youre going to have to be blunt and straight forward... though sometimes he'll realize your flirting hours later when hes laying in bed; long after youve left to go home

definitely the type to have his blush reach his ears and neck... since hes ice cold normally, his face feels weirdly warm when you touch it.. not weirdly as in "its too warm" weirdly as in "oh hes usually freezing cold this is weird seeing him warm for once"

i dont think he would be a good flirt... like yeah sure he can make the most basic pick up lines work, the ones that everyone knows.. and he can pump just enough confidence into his words to come off as attractive

that sounded mean but i hope you guys know what i mean

...though pathetic men who have no swag are also cute

point aside, when it comes to actively trying to flirt back hes pretty much helpless

so hes at your mercy..

i think hes the type to get quiet when hes being flirted with and knows hes being flirted with... although hes already a quiet person

not that he doesnt like your advances or appreciates them..! he just feels a little put on the spot... also add in the fact hes very much self loathing and constantly wondering what you see in him and why you stick around the literal man eating monster.. loads of thoughts going through his head, you know?

im gonna be evil. let that boy have this sad look on his face when you're really going at it because the thoughts above are getting really loud in his skull

honestly i dont think you can ever really get rid of those thoughts no matter how much you try to reassure him

not leaving this on a sweet note im thinking of angst now

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagine #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack imagine #eyeless jack headcanon

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valley-of-headcanons · 6 days

Note

If I can request, you did the way the bachelorettes react to ex-stardom. I enjoyed it so much and would love to see it for the bachelors too?

I love your writings ;u; ♡

bachelors reacting to your ex-stardom || headcanons

being in the limelight was fun for a while, but settling down is definitely what you needed. but how would your partner react to your past? part one here!

warnings: nothing that i can see! :)

requested by: anon! hii, thank you so much for the request! this topic is pretty interesting, and i really enjoyed writing for everyone! be sure to check out part one, it adds a little more context and i think it's super duper cool and you're definitely missing out. anyway! hope you enjoy :)

alex

• You and Alex were on the beach, resting after tossing around the Gridball. He got on the topic of his dream of playing Gridball professionally, and how although he wanted to make it big and turn his passion into a profession, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He's been such a shut-in these last few years, only really hanging out with you and his grandparents. The fame sounds so scary. But ... you knew that all too well. He didn't know that, though. Maybe it was time.

• You slowly told Alex that you knew a lot about being famous, before explaining who you were. “Wait- what?! Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I love your music! Genuinely, like I listen to it all the time ... I know it's not really the manliest choice and it's my guilty pleasure- not to say men shouldn't listen to your music! Oh my yoba- sorry- ... I love your music. That's what I'm trying to say. It's really really good.”

• As you explained why you left the limelight, Alex nodded understandingly. “Yeah, Gridball will always be a dream of mine, but the people I'd be around are probably not good. Maybe staying in the town isn't such a bad idea, huh? I don't think anyone could really beat hangin' with you, grandma, and grandpa.”

• Alex soon opened up about which of your songs was his favorite, and asked in depth about them. There were some that really spoke to him emotionally, and he had a really bad time dealing with that sort of stuff. The fact that you created something he relates to makes him happier than ever! He scored pretty good, if he says so himself.

• Regardless of your old fame, he's still deeply in love with you. He admires your talent, but that doesn't overshadow how you've helped him in his life since you've actually been in it. He will still listen to your music, but maybe a little more publicly. He wouldn't tell anyone unless you said it was okay, but he'd totally be bragging about you if he were allowed.

elliott

• Elliott was not having a great writing session. He invited you over, incredibly stumped with his latest novel. He was bouncing ideas off of you left and right, but nothing would stick! You mentioned that music could be an inspiration, and it was like a lightbulb smacked him in the forehead. He raced over to his stereo and turned on the radio. A cheese-y pop tune ... YOUR cheese-y pop tune. He was embarrassed over the pop playing and immediately turned it, but he did notice your expression and inquired.

• You explained that the song on the radio was a song that you wrote and sang yourself. He was startled at first. “I didn't know we had such a big star in our midst! Are those your lyrics as well? I didn't pin you as such a wonderful writer, but I am so grateful! Someone that shares my writing prowess! I knew some invisible string brought us together!”

• As you continue to explain your past and why you came out to Pelican Town, Elliott nods along, hearing your story. “I didn't realize how similar we are. I understand wanting to get away from it all, that's why I'm out here as well. I suppose you came here to get away from your work, and I came to get closer to it. How awfully poetic that is, don't you think?”

• He asked a lot of questions, really diving deep into your mind. Of course, he only asked if you were comfortable with it. He loved analyzing people's minds, especially if they were different from his own. He may or may not use some of these aspects of your life in his new novel. With your permission, of course. You've always been his biggest muse.

• Elliott is invested in your life, like any good partner should, and admires your creative talent. This only heightens his view of you, as you are an artist, just like him. Despite the different mediums, you two share a lot in common. He would love you regardless of this aspect, but this only draws you two closer.

harvey

• Harvey was giving you a check-up, which was a bit unethical now that you were dating, but eh. He's the only doctor in the town and he's very worried about your health. He noticed that you mentioned a previous injury when checking your knee reflexes. This injury has occurred in a rehearsal for one of your tours. You didn't want to lie to your sweet boyfriend, so you had to admit the truth.

• As he wrote on his clipboard your reasoning, he stopped for a moment. “Tour? Popstar? Is this one of your sarcastic comments that I'm not getting? ... oh, really? You've never mentioned that part of your life before. Please, if you want to open up about it, show me some of your work once we get home. I hate to admit, but I'm fairly curious,” he said with a soft, caring smile.

• When you two get home after the checkup, he starts to cook dinner. “Please, keep me company while I cook. If you'd like to share some stories ... well, only if you're comfortable with it, I know that you got away from fame for a reason, but ... I want to know that part of your life, just like I know this one. Indulge me, if you would, my love.”

• He tries his best to support this part of your life, even if he wasn't involved. He ends up purchasing a lot of your old music and keeping a collection, showing it as a sign of affection. He listens to it while he does household chores, humming along to your songs happily while you're away.

• Harvey didn't mind this aspect of your life. It was another thing that made you the person he loves. He listens to everything you say and pays attention, specifically to the parts of fame you enjoyed and didn't enjoy. He only asked about the stuff you liked, and allowed you to open up about the hard times on your own, when you were ready. He was incredibly careful about the whole thing, and wouldn't dare make you uncomfortable.

sam

• As you and Sam were relaxing in his room one day, he was fiddling with his guitar. He seemed super stumped, strumming random chords to try and make some sense. Nothing was working ... he eventually showed you something that sounds sort of functional? But this rhythm was VERY similar to a song you put out a long time ago. You let out a soft giggle, which left Sam confused. You had to explain now.

• You drop the fact that you were a popstar in a nonchalant manner, trying to make it not a huge deal. But it's Sam. Of course it's a big deal. “No. Fucking. WAY! You're kidding, you've gotta be fucking with me! And you didn't tell me?! For SHAME! As punishment, you've gotta tell me all about it and I will refuse to change the topic. Now SPILL!”

• You explained who you are and why you left everything behind, which Sam thought about for a moment. “Wow ... I never really bought about fame that way. That must've been a lot, and I really do get why you came all the way down here. I'm just glad you're here now, y'know? ... but if you do end up getting the itch to create some music again, with no strings attached to fame, I'm always here. I'd love to create somethin' sick with you.”

• Sam always asked questions about the parts of fame he didn't know much about. Did you go to any parties? Was this person actually chill or were they a dick? He was so curious and asked probably the weirdest questions imaginable, but they were refreshing. And if you weren't the first person Sam showed his music to before, you were now. He always asked for your approval, and asked how to improve. It was extremely sweet.

• Even though he was excited about everything you had presented to him, he tried his best to be respectful. If you asked him to stop, he would with a nod and a quick apology, giving you a small kiss before putting the topic to bed. He still loved you for you! This aspect about you is just so cool and interesting to him. He adores you regardless, and wouldn't trade the current version of you for anyone else.

sebastian

• Sebastian had just finished working for the day and needed to relax. He flopped down on his couch and pressed the button on his radio. The pop station came on, and he was about to turn it before you walked in. You were shocked to hear your own song playing, staring at him with wide eyes. He makes some sarcastic comments about how this is actually his music taste and you just don't understand him. He doesn't understand why you're so shocked, though.

• As you slowly drop the bomb, he lets out a little chuckle. “Hah. Funny. You can drop the act, I can tell you're fuckin' with me ... are you really a world renowned superstar with several albums with hundreds of chart toppers? Like I believe that! Why the hell would you choose Pelican Town of all places to live, huh? This is the type of town you need to run away from.”

• You eventually have to explain why you left, why that lifestyle really wasn't you. He's actually at a loss for words for a moment, before nodding. “I didn't expect that out of you, you really are full of surprises. Tell me more, if you wanna. I'd be willing to listen. If you don't wanna talk about all that shit though, it's fine. Whatever you wanna do,” he said with a welcoming smile.

• Your music was FAR from what Sebastian listened to commonly. His Radiohead collection can attest for that. But ... he decided to take a listen to your music. He's very picky usually, so this is a pretty good feat. He actually kind of enjoyed it, for once. Maybe you're leading him down the path of liking something that's not edgy. Hmm. That's nice.

• Sebastian found this part of you incredibly interesting, but he didn't ask many questions. If you wanted him to know, he would, and he respected that. He loves hearing you talk about anything that you're passionate about, or just hearing you talk in general. It's arguably one of his favorite past times.

shane

• You and Shane were sitting by the pier one night. This was Shane's safe spot, attempting not to start drinking again. You two spent several afternoons sitting under the glow of the stars with an old cassette player and some of Shane's favorite songs. One of these nights, he mentioned that his childhood dream was to be an actor, and how weird fame seemed. He would hate being famous ... and you did too. This would be a perfect time to drop this bomb.

• You mentioned your past to Shane, but he brushed it off. “Uh huh. And I'm actually a famous bowler but I fucked up my arm and now I'm destined to live the rest of my life in this little shit hole. Oh, my poor dreams. How sad,” he said, his dry humor biting with sarcasm. He noticed your facial expressions ... they weren't sarcastic. “... I'm sober right? You didn't spike my drink or somethin' and you're tryin' to fuck with me ... huh. Now that's a topic.”

• You explained everything, mainly about why you came back here. You figured Shane wouldn't really know much about who you were, that's not his type of music anyway. “Huh. Nice. I figured you were just some corporate big league who got tired of the white walls. A lot of things make a lot more sense, I guess. You're a lot more talented than I thought ... sorry, that was mean- let me rephrase ... you are talented. I really am tryin' to get better about that ...”

• Shane didn't ask much about it further, but would listen if you brought it up again. He ended up stumbling across your work ... it was way better than he imagined. Maybe because it was you. It was a source of comfort to him, and he often listened to your beautiful voice when he was in a dark time. It helped him through a lot.

• He didn't mind your past, you had a lot less skeletons in your closet than he did. He liked hearing your voice, so it was a win-win. He got this down-to-Earth side of you that he enjoys being around, but he can also listen to his star-studded partner whenever he wants. He wouldn't tell you that, though. That's his little secret.

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skywheeldate · 3 months

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Analyzing the Skywheel Dates

Unable to wait patiently for the Ultimania releasing next month, I wanted to provide my own analysis of the Skywheel dates between Cloud/Tifa and Cloud/Aerith.

By analyzing Cloud's behavior on these two dates, which are explicitly more romantic than the other four, I aim to understand why the dates played out the way they did and what was going through the character's heads during them.

Tifa Date:

What sticks out in most player's minds during the date is the kiss Cloud gives Tifa while riding the Skywheel, and it's easy to see why! It's the first time Cloud has kissed a woman on screen, after all. But I have seen fans state that this proves Cloud likes Tifa more, and while I hate to get myself involved in any shipping war, I feel there is a more interesting conclusion we can draw based on the timeline of events throughout both remake games.

First, I want to direct you to this caption from the Remake Ultimania:

When Cloud gives Tifa the flower, he wants to "Show off a youthful image of what he himself wants to be like"...

I think this caption is very important to helping us understand why Cloud was able to be so bold as to kiss the girl he was always too shy to befriend as a child. And I think it's linked to his new "ex-soldier persona."

See, the ex-soldier persona Cloud crafted is modeled after a person he admired and wanted to be like: Zack. Although making this new personality for himself was an unhealthy response to his trauma, I think there are good things to it, as well. For one, it allowed him to take action again and thereby begin his first steps towards recovery. In addition, it gives him courage to do things he never could before, such as strutting his stuff on the dance floor:

I don't think it's too far of a stretch to say that this extends to him giving the flower to Tifa.

So this, in my mind, explains how Cloud had the courage to kiss Tifa and why some fans might think it felt a little sudden or out of character--it's because it almost is, in a way. But let me reiterate, I don't think that's a bad thing. I think Zack's influence on Cloud is somewhat natural and, frankly, having the courage to do the things you want and have fun is never a bad thing. I truly believe Cloud is exemplifying being Zack's "living legacy" by becoming more confident and outgoing. It's a good thing!!

And let's not ignore Tifa in this scene. Before the kiss, Tifa brings up that she feels she and Cloud have become closer, but frets that she's rushing to conclusions again. She's giving Cloud a clear opening to prove his feelings for her--and frankly, after all this build up? Giving the flower, all the tiny touches they've shared? Cloud is more than ready to prove it to her, and he does. It's so easy, and he does it the best way he knows how: with a kiss. In that moment, the boy became the man he's always aspired to be.

Aerith Date:

Conversely, the Aerith date isn't quite as simple--at least to me. It's hard to understand what's going on in their heads, and I think they comparatively have more obstacles in the way of their romance.

The biggest obstacle is that Aerith has seen through Cloud's persona, and almost calls him out on it during the date. She tells him she's looking for the real him, and that she wants to meet him someday.

I believe this stops Cloud, subconsciously. While the persona he built around Zack gives him more confidence, it's still a persona. It's not who he really is. By giving into that persona at all, he is not giving Aerith what she wants. Being confident and bold with Tifa was important, because she needed proof he liked her, but here? What's important is being the "real" Cloud, whoever that is. It must have stumped him.

Aerith gives him an easy out though: she asks Cloud to let her snuggle up against him until the ride ends. And that much, at least, Cloud can manage. And he goes even further than that when he interlaces their fingers together. I think this is his way of showing that he'll be there for Aerith--not just till the ride ends, but after. He's showing her that he does, in fact, care about her, and that her selfish request isn't as selfish as she thinks it is.

I also want to bring up the lyrics from No Promises to Keep here since I think they're extremely relevant to the Clerith relationship and the hand-holding symbolism seen throughout the game:

Till the day that we meet again At our place, just let me believe In the chance that you'll come Take my hand and never let me go Take my hand And believe We can be Together evermore

The hand holding symbolizes their shared desire to be "together evermore" and the belief that they will be. The interlocked fingers display a powerful, mutual bond that cannot be so easily severed. I think this imagery is both simple and extremely beautiful.

In summary, although they are not at a point in their relationship where they're ready to kiss yet, I believe this scene is meant to show that there is still possibility for their relationship to grow and get to that point.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊°。 .❀

Thank you for reading till the end! I hope you enjoyed my thoughts. Feel free to use or reference this post if you found it resonated with your own interpretations of these scenes. And if you have your own interpretations to share, I would love to hear them!

#ffvii #ffvii rebirth #final fantasy vii #final fantasy #cloud strife #aerith gainsborough #tifa lockhart #meta #ffvii meta #clerith #cloti

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ms-scarletwings · 3 months

Note

Oh, I think I got a spacebug science ask . . . if Irkens make various bug noises (chirps, clicks, hissing, whathaveyou), how do they do it?

Thank you for throwing me a real curve ball on this one. I’ve actually been pretty stumped. At first, I wanted to hand wave this off with the simple ‘oh pretty much like any Earth vertebrate’ considering that they do in fact breathe air, can choke, visibly speak from the mouth, etc. but then I started running back into the rabbit hole question of how Irken breathing/airflow even works, since no one knows if they have lungs or an insectoid setup or something of the like to begin with. I have always theorized that the PAK is heavily integrated with their body’s circulation and gas exchange but there’s not much I have to go on with to guess at the exact machinations. It’s not that I have NO ideas, it’s that when you start taking inspiration from nature absent of canon pointers, you kind of literally can’t run out of equally plausible ideas.

Original point being that laughing, clicking, hissing... I mean, this is all stuff we can do just fine with tongues, teeth, and a larynx. Occam’s razor says ditto for them.

Except for this one thing that screams so distinctly arthropod to me.

See there was this one little moment in Dark Harvest that I’ve been majorly obsessed with. There’s this… sound that is part of the ost right before the big chase. When the lights are flipped off. It could be a strange choice of ambience but I swear it feels like the implication was that it was actually coming from Zim. And the reason I can’t stop thinking about it is because it sounds damn near identical to, of all things, hermit crab chirping. Take a listen to what I mean

Congrats btw if this is how you learn hermit crabs can even do such a thing. In the wild this is actually a way they communicate stress and aggression to other crabs, as in during fights over shells or when trying to warn an attacker to back off.

Their method for it is something called stridulation, which is essentially big word talk for rubbing together certain body parts like an acoustic instrument. Lots of other invertebrates produce sounds in the same manner. In the crab case, it’s a leg on leg or legs on shell kind of action. In crickets, think leg to wing or wing to wing. By no means universal either, though. Cicadas are a surprising example of insect that sounds off primarily through other means. Their mating calls are produced with tymbal structures located on either side of their abdomen.

As nutshell fashion as I can describe the tymbals, they’re a combo of complex membrane and stiff ribs that produce sound by flexing and clicking together really, really fast. I focus in on these at all because they are personally my favorite pet theory behind a secondary, possibly vestigial way for mature Irkens to produce sound :) and I needed some alternate idea because the one other moment in the show that got me on this thought spiral- if you remember that screaming back and forth Zim got into with Dib in Backseat Drivers. You know, the “ISN’T IT” bit? I’ve pointed out before, but if you listen closely enough Zim is so angry in that exchange that the way he vibrates angrily is actually audible. Like there’s this odd noise accompanying the rage shakes I can only describe as “skittery”

#irkens #iz headcanons #iz #invader zim #answering asks #scarlet talks about things #speculative biology #cool bug facts

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

Text

What's the occasion?

Masterlist

A/N: What this was supposed to be: A fluffy comfort fic about reader's husband taking care of her after a rough day/week/month. What this isn't: A fluffy comfort fic about read.... you get me.

What this somehow ended up being: A not-so-fluffy not-so-comfort (?) fic about reader's husband taking real good care of her after a rough day/week/month.

You're welcome, I think? (I honestly don't have a clue how this ended up being some of the smuttiest smut I've written to date... But it happened... I'm not even going to question it.)

Pairing: Syverson x reader (you)

Summary: You come home from a terrible day at work, thinking you have about a thousand things still on your to do list, only to find your husband has taken care of all of that, and has also made you the first thing on his to do list.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, SMUT, MINORS DNI. oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex, Sy being all dominant and massive, some light (yes, really) throatfucking, hair pulling, manhandling. Some of this can probably be considered blasphemy.

Also, fair warning: this story contains a man doing household chores without having been (explicitly) asked to do so. Just... Bear with me. I know it's not realistic, but we're here to have fun, right?

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

Parking your husband’s truck in your driveway is an absolute nightmare. It takes you twenty minutes and a breakdown – during which you fight yourself over whether or not to just go inside and ask him to park his stupid car for you – but you eventually manage. Now, it’s time to go inside, after the longest day at the office in the history of long ass days at the office, and do the six million other things that come for free with having a house, husband, and kids. Dishes. Laundry. Dinner. That stuff.

You toss your bag down on the bench next to the front door and put your coat on the overflowing coat rack six times – it keeps coming down because for some reason, your teen daughter owns 12 jackets, yet she still always asks to borrow yours seconds before telling you that all of your clothes suck – before you finally give up and leave it where it falls.

It takes you a minute to realize that you smell food. With three kids and your mountain of a husband, that can only really mean one thing: someone got hungry, your plans for dinner are now in ruins and your kitchen looks like an episode of Hoarders. And even though those are your expectations, your family still manage to exceed them every time, so God knows what you’re going to find when you round that corner and step into your kitchen...

It’s Sy. And it’s not just Sy, but it’s just Sy. Come to think of it... The whole house is suspiciously void of music, screaming or shoes scattered around for you to break your neck over.

“Where are the kids?” you ask as you walk towards Sy.

“With my mother,” he replies without turning around, “to be returned to us on Sunday night at eight, and not a second before then. Are ya goin' to make a habit of not sayin’ hello to me when you get home? ‘Cause I don’t care for it.”

“Well, excuse me for not taking the time out of my busy schedule for pleasantries, but I have a week’s worth of laundry to get to,” you snap. He doesn’t deserve it, you know that, but it’s the kind of day you’ve had, and... And it’s all on you again.

“Laundry’s done,” Sy says calmly, still not looking up from the lasagna he’s putting together.

“Oh,” you stammer. “Well, then I’ll just grab the vacuum and...”

“I did that, too.”

“Alright, I’ll give the garage a quick call to see if they can...”

“I changed the oil in your car this morning.”

“Groceries?”

“Done.”

“The bathroom?”

“Yep.”

“And you’ve obviously got a handle on dinner...” You have to admit it: you’re a little stumped. “What about...”

“Woman, if you’re lookin’ for somethin’ I didn’t do so you can blow up at me for it, I’ll just hand it to ya: I didn’t get to cleanin’ out the gutters today, so I’ll have to do that tomorrow.”

But you’re not planning on blowing up at him over anything...

“Well, hello Mr. Syverson,” you say, still completely in awe that your entire schedule for the night – and probably the whole weekend – just opened up. “Remind me... We got married in October, right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Syverson, we did.” He’s even less subtle than usual, skipping your hips and putting his hands on our ass right off the bat.

“So, what’s the occasion?” you chuckle. Sy pulls you in for a kiss, just passionate enough to leave you wanting more, but not so bad you beg him to take you right here on the kitchen counter. It’s a fine line, really. A tightrope you’ve tried to walk before, only to fall off on the wrong side and be late for yet another dinner with someone who was never going to be more important than having sex with your husband, anyway.

“The occasion is... You’re beautiful. You deserve it. You do so much for our family and somewhere along the lines I seem to have started takin’ that for granted. Take your pick, I’m sure there’s plenty more reasons to come up with.” He squeezes your ass. Hard. “This sensational ass could be the occasion?”

“You’re saying you got rid of the kids for the weekend and checked off my whole to do list to celebrate the existence of my ass?”

“Sugar, I celebrate the existence of that fine ass every damn day. Now, I’ve fallen a little behind on celebrating the existence of the woman attached to it... I’d like to make up for that.” There is absolutely no way you aren’t blushing right now. Sy doesn’t let go of you, but his hands move to your waist. You’re trying your best to not drown in his eyes, but you’ve been hopelessly lost in there for nearly twenty years. For a brief – but lovely – moment, you stand there, just holding each other and making eyes like you used to when you were young and in love. And young...

“This needs about half an hour in the oven, still, so how about I give you forty-five and you can take a nice, long shower?” Sy winks at you – or rather: tries to. “There’s something on the bed I’d love to take off of you later tonight, but I also understand if you just want to wear something comfortable.”

“Did you pick it?” you tease him.

“You’ll be more than happy to know that I did, but under the very strict supervision of Dana.” It seems like your dear husband has finally learned how to use the fact his best friend’s wife works in a lingerie store to his advantage… Took him long enough.

“Right on time,” Sy says as you step into the kitchen. You take the glass of wine he’s holding out to you and take a sip.

“Mmm...” The sound you make is almost a moan. One look at the bottle on the table tells you this is a really nice wine – one from a price range you can’t afford to shop at...

“Gift from a client. Walker said I could take it. I guess his wine cellar doesn’t fit any more.” Sy pulls you in for a hug. It doesn’t last long, but it’s nice, very nice.

Dinner is amazing. Sy is a great cook – when given means, motive, and opportunity – and he has prepared three courses of absolute heaven. He only has to assure you twice that the price of the ingredients won’t put your family in financial ruin.

You’re halfway through dessert – a deliciously indulgent, rich chocolate mousse you’re fairly sure he made from scratch – when you realize something.

“You can’t have done all the laundry. We don’t have the space to hang all of that...”

“I fixed the dryer,” Sy interrupts, “I’m sorry I only did that after it became a problem to me, personally.”

“That’s alright...”

“No, it ain’t,” Sy grins. He knows you.

“Very well, then. I accept your apology. You’re forgiven.” You remember the moment you knew you were going to marry this man: right after your first fight – he had been wrong, although you can’t remember what he’d been wrong about. It had had something to do with your mother. Either way, right after that fight, he’d apologized, and for some reason the lack of excuses had made you want to jump him right where you were standing. You’d almost broken up with him when you realized you weren’t half as good at apologizing as he was.

“Alright, well,” Sy smirked, still. It was incredibly attractive, and at least as annoying. “I was planning on makin’ up for that, but now that I don’t have to…” His voice trailed off for a moment before you gently nudged his leg with your foot.

“How about we finish this bottle upstairs?” You don’t need to tell him twice: he’s on his feet before you even finish the sentence.

“You go ahead, Sugar,” he says before kissing you as gently as a giant like him can muster, “I’ll make sure this kitchen is spotless before I come up.”

“Oh, Mr. Syverson, you are killing me.”

“Oh,” Sy adds with a grin on his face, “and you were right. The vacuum cleaner sucks, we need a new one.”

“Say that again…”

“The vacuum cleaner sucks?” He knows damn well which part you’re referring to. That wasn’t it.

“Before that.”

“Ah. You were right.”

“You have ten minutes to get to bed, or I’m starting without you,” you tease, knowing very well he wouldn’t mind one bit if you did start before he got there.

Sy is impatient as ever when he finally steps into your bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head before the door even shuts behind… Alright, maybe the door doesn’t close because he just leaves it wide open.

“Sy! Close the door!” you shriek, but he just takes a few more steps until he’s right next to the bed.

“Why? Kids ain’t home. We’re alone, we don’t need to close the door,” he says as he pushes you back onto the mattress. “We don’t gotta be quiet, either.” With a devilish grin on his face, he kisses you. First your lips, then your neck. His beard doesn’t tickle – not after all these years. He shaved it off once, only to immediately get on growing it back, because you wouldn’t give him any. You move your hands through the hair on his chest while Sy roughly pulls your shirt over your head. He groans appreciatively when the bra he picked out for you appears.

“Do you like it?” he asks. He doesn’t have the greatest track record when it comes to picking stuff that’s actually to your tastes, but you’d be lying if those items didn’t have their own special little drawer – that you definitely haven’t opened in far too long…

“I do,” you purr into his ear, biting your lip when he grinds his hips into you. He’s hard, seeking friction, release. You love when he gets this worked up over you. “You did a good job.”

“Hm,” he growls, “I didn’t like it at first. Thought it was kinda boring.” That’s not what you want to hear… It’s a good thing he opens his mouth again to continue: “But now that it’s your tits in there… Can’t decide if I wanna keep it on ya or rip it off…” To your surprise, he opts for the former, making sure to kiss every inch of skin that’s newly available to him as he makes his way down your stomach, dragging you to the edge of the bed as he goes along.

He can do it within minutes. Making you come on his tongue, that is. He never does, because the smug fucking bastard likes teasing you too much to ever give you what you want – nay, need – that quickly. That patience, however, is nowhere to be found when it comes to taking your clothes off. He admires you and your new underwear for maybe five seconds, and then your panties are somewhere in the room. No, you don’t care where, exactly.

“Fuck, Sugar, you’re beautiful,” Sy growls from between your legs. “I’ve missed this sweet little cunt.” His words used to startle you so bad you asked him to stop talking multiple times when you’d first started going out. Now, they just make you blush, and they make you wet, and that’s all that you need from him right now. Sometimes, you’re still grateful for the moments he can’t speak – when his mouth is otherwise occupied, so to speak. It’s the moaning, and growling, and the grunts and obscene slurping – hideous word, but sadly the only applicable description – sounds that get you. It’s the pleasure, and the way he knows exactly how and when and where to move his tongue to make you squirm, moan, and scream in his strong arms. Unfortunately, he still isn’t exactly at that point. He’s still teasing, and you’re still whining, and no one is coming.

In no time, you’re going nuts. It’s not bad enough to speak up. And by that you mean: beg him to finally eat you in that way you both know makes you see stars and seek God and scream His name – or Sy’s, but what difference does that make, anyway? Instead, he keeps you right there, at the point where you’re just invested enough in the fantastic feeling that you want to be consumed by it, but it just isn’t enough to keep you from getting distracted. By the feeling of his beard against the inside of your thighs. By the fact that your panties somehow ended up on the lamp on his bedside table. By the gentle pulsing of the vein in his forearm your finger currently rests on. And he keeps you there, and keeps you there until you’ve almost convinced yourself you’ve gotten so used to this – to him – that he can’t do it anymore, forgetting that he really isn’t even trying. That twenty years of ‘this’, whatever the fuck that may mean, just means that he’s found so many different ways to take care of you that he couldn’t go through all of them in one night even if you could physically take it, simply because he’d run out of time before he made it halfway through the list.

And when you get there, to that point where you start thinking he might just not be as good as he used to, you’ve lost. Because from then on, it’s a minute. Thirty seconds. Maybe even twenty, or ten, or less – not that you’d know, because you couldn’t count to three anymore if you tried.

“Darlin’, you taste like fuckin’ heaven,” he mutters, never taking his lips off your skin completely. His fingers tease your entrance, pads coarse and calloused. It appears that, even after all these years, you still haven’t learned that if your mouth won’t beg, your body will. Unconsciously, you angle your hips, lean into his touch, use your legs to pull him closer – and he answers. As always. Sy knows what you want, and he doesn’t think twice to give it to you, even if – possibly especially when – what you really want isn’t what you think you want. He’ll know, just like he’ll know exactly when his name is on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be released along with everything he’s building up inside of you.

A loud moan escapes you when his fingers curl inside you, diligently working the perfect spot while his tongue laps at your clit, looking for the perfect move, speed, pressure, everything, until you shriek the words ‘oh God, Sy, don’t stop’, or you gasp, or moan – or one of the million other ways in which you tell him what needs done without saying a single word. And he doesn’t stop. Not until he unravels you completely. Not until you remember why you normally close and lock that door and keep quiet. Not until you know with every fiber of your being that he holds back, and he reminds you of everything he’s capable of.

When he comes back up, caging your body in between his strong arms and broad chest, pinning you down on the mattress, you hope he’s had enough time to catch his breath, because you immediately pull him into a long, deep kiss that says more than just ‘I missed you’. If it was at all possible to stress every syllable of a sentence, now would be the time. But who’s got time for talking when that impatient bulge grinds between your legs, the heavy, coarse fabric of Sy’s jeans harsh against your sensitive skin.

You push against his shoulders – it’s usually pointless, but he seems to have grown at least as impatient as you have, so he gets up. Four hands reach for his belt. You always make a great team, but this is madness, and neither of you are surprised you don’t get anything done this way.

“Move those hands if you wanna keep ‘em, Syverson,” you say with a sly smile on your face. He grits his teeth when you look up at him – it’s one of the things you know he loves to hate, because it drives him insane, and he doesn’t like that. Sy wants to be in control. Tough luck. Getting him naked is child’s play now that his hands aren’t in the way anymore, and you can’t stifle an appreciative moan when his cock appears in front of you.

“I’m not saying I married you for this big dick, but it didn’t hurt your chances.” You bite your lip and look up at him. The amusement at your words fades off his face within seconds, making room for something darker and more sinister than you usually get to see.

“If you can use that mouth to talk, you can use it to suck my cock,” he says. You’ve played this game a thousand times, yet you’re still stupid enough to open your mouth in protest, and he seizes the opportunity. “That’s a good girl.” There’s a hint more… savagery to his naturally dark and gravelly voice than you’re used to hearing under normal circumstances. It’s a possessive, almost animalistic sound. It’s something that used to scare you when you were first going out. Something he didn’t let you get too closely acquainted with until he knew for sure he could trust you with that side of him – the side of him that sometimes just loves to shove his cock down your throat in one smooth thrust until you’re gagging and fighting back tears. Tonight is exactly the night you want every inch of him in the exact way you haven’t had him in for the longest time.

Your eyes beg, and once again he listens. How one man can be made up of so many contradictions, is something you’ve accepted you might never find out. ‘He gently fucks your throat.’ It sounds completely insane, but it’s possible. And you know it’s possible, because it’s happening. To you. Right now. If that weren’t the case, you probably wouldn’t have believed it yourself. He’s kind and ruthless at the same time, moving in and out of your mouth with controlled movements while moans and profanities escape him with reckless abandon. His hand is tangled in your hair, gathering a good portion of it in his fist, gripping just tight enough to remind you he’s there, but not so tight you’re in pain.

“God, baby, I love fucking this pretty li’l mouth of yours,” he says, teeth gritted, eyes closed, and the expression on his face warped in such a way that tells you it’s taking everything he’s got to keep whatever composure he has left at this stage. “But I gotta tell ya,” he continues as his breathing grows more and more ragged, a low growl barely audible on the exhale, “this ain’t what I need right now.”

He effortlessly tosses you back onto the mattress, finding his way between your legs in no time.

“Baby, I want you,” he growls before he kisses you again. “I need you. Need your tight, wet, fucking pussy around my cock right now.” He doesn’t move away from you much as he lifts your legs onto his shoulders. He’ll be deep, too deep, maybe, and you know you’ll regret this in the morning – but what good has regret ever done anyone, anyway? As he pushes into you, you realize he’s on his last bit of restraint. You take one last good look at him, because after this, it’s going to hurt so good you won’t be able to keep your eyes open for so much as a split second.

“Careful,” you chuckle, already far more out of breath than you like to admit, “you’re too much for me.”

“What’re’ya talkin’bout, woman?” Sy grumbles. “I know you can take me.” He’s not wrong. Exhibit A would be the fact that he buried his cock in your tight pussy with that one, agonizingly slow thrust. The next one is neither slow, nor even remotely as gentle, making you moan as you pull his face down to yours and kiss him. Your legs are trembling on his shoulders within minutes, and you find yourself chanting his name religiously – making it just about the only thing in your life you’ve done in that particular manner.

“Good God, you’re amazing,” Sy growls in your ear as he bottoms out with every erratic thrust. You watch as his jaw clenches when you dig your nails into the flesh of his back, careful to avoid the scars – an unwelcome souvenir from his time in the army. Most of the memories of the times you accidentally caught one in the heat of the moment have faded away by now. It hasn’t happened in years. You could draw a map of his back: every muscle, every scar, every mark on his skin is etched into your brain, and will stay there until the day you die. He’s yours every bit as much as you’re his, although he likes to put a little more emphasis on the latter.

“Want me to fuck another baby into you?” Hearing him say that makes you realize how incredibly happy you are that he can’t make good on that threat anymore. Sy hadn’t been happy when you’d informed him that you were bestowing upon him the incredible responsibility of contraception after having baby number three, but appointments were made, surgeries were had and all was right with the world. He’d only pouted and moaned about shooting blanks for about six months until things went back to normal.

“Do your worst, big guy,” you tease. You heard his breathing when he asked his question, felt the sheen of sweat covering his whole, massive body as he continued pounding you into the mattress with the same relentless pace as before, only slightly wavering in rhythm… You pull him close, gritting your teeth to get through the cramp in your leg as the weight of Sy’s body forces your legs closer to yours. “Fill me up.”

“That was mean,” Sy mutters, out of breath.

“As if you would have lasted any longer!” you say as you slap him in the face with a pillow. “I was about to tap out, anyway.” Not one word of that is a lie. You wouldn’t have walked for a week if you’d let him keep going. It really was a good thing he was a little on edge already…

“Fine, woman, have your victory,” he growls as he pulls you into his arms and lifts you off the bed. “Ready for another shower?”

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