#(boy that last one feels a bit pretentious)

[improbable-implosions]

Okay, so brace yourselves gang, this one's a bit long as it's actually secretly 3 mends! First up, we've got some simple sashiko crosses with some nice contrasting bee-themed yellow fabric! You might not be able to tell by the way I've got that grid laid out partially in the progress shot there, but originally the idea was to have this one follow a pattern I'd found from someone on youtube that had a sort of 3 dimensional look to it, but I miscounted some stitches, and so had to stick with crosses instead.

As we can see here, it's pretty blatantly cleaner with the grid to use as reference! sure, my stitch length isn't exactly the same every time, but to be honest with you? I could probably only nail that with the stick and stitch patterns, they're at least roughly correct!

Unfortunately, I also mis-placed the fabric slightly in the process of that patch, so that leads me to the other two mends here! Coming off decorating that mask, I had a good bit of remaining embroidery thread in bi colors. Found a tutorial for the ceylon stitch, liked the way it came together, and since it's really great at squares, decided I could use another little bi flag, much closer to properly proportioned this time!

Last but not least here, we've got a flag for demisexuality, which, honestly? a piece of my identity I don't bring up much! I figured, though, in for a penny with the pride mends, in for a pound, and honestly, the little chevron wasn't even all that hard, I just adapted a crochet pattern for the stitch count. (Really, the hard bit was the purple stripe in the middle, as I had to chain all those single stitches together with only the black triangle as an anchor!)

I absolutely love the way this particular mend came together, even if it was mostly a recovery from fumbles. I swear, these jorts are cursed, they only got this sashiko patch because the normal denim patch I put on them previously wasn't the right size, either! Plus, after I wore them a bit more, the other side of the seam wore out, too, so I've still gotta apply a patch there, but hey, it's more wears than I would have gotten out of them normally anyway!

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ ACE OF SPADES

part two. | rich boy aven masterlist.

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your first date with rich boy aventurine is more fun than you initially expected, who knows where things will go from there // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. fluff, slightly suggestive, rich boy au, reader wears a dress, flirty aventurine, a/n. this will have a part two if you can't tell, fem! reader ♡

you turn your face to the left and let your visual perception take in the luxurious casino you've been invited in— undeniably, your first reaction was dedicated to the chimes of whistles of various slot machines announcing wins and losses, in combined action with racketing noises of their shafts being pulled.

your jaw parts and your eyes grow, it felt surreal to stand here with an expensive dress hugging your body tight, a small gift from your date, nothing more, nothing less. rich boy aventurine slowly slides his palm over the back of your hand to lure your thoughts back to himself as he intertwines his fingers with your own.

you stiffen, it didn't take a genius to notice that you were slightly nervous about your first date with the infamous gambler. if only he would've picked a better place to get to know each other— alas, in a way it was exactly what you've expected.

well yes, aventurine choose the probably, most unromantic spot for a first date— but, you got a dress as a gift, together with an embellished necklace and a free entry to a luxurious, private casino.

so, did you really mind? hmm, not really. in fact, it was quite unique and exciting to be here, you also felt safe by his side, and especially intrigued to get to know more about his, quote on quote, playground.

men, or how people called them here; high rollers in pretentious suits, glide like sharks over the soft tumble of the dice. it's all very crowded and distracting, needless to say it was interesting to witness, but you notice how your heart was thumping faster, that's when you began to feel yourself getting difficulties to breathe evenly.

snugly pressed against aventurine, you walk past the shrill murmur of crowds and bells of roulette wheels as the gambler spins you towards his chest, his hand carrying on to hold yours gently, "are you okay? you look a little nervous," he says nonchalantly, although his handsome voice told you a different story, an affectionate perception, "our table is right there, we can take a seat and talk if you want. "

your gaze slowly shifts to where aventurine was pointing his head towards as you look at a large table right next to the exclusive sight of exquisite gold and silver fountains and statuaries. this must've cost a fortune, you were certain that this area alone was the most breathtaking one.

you awkwardly glare up at him, your breathing picking up on tempo, "of course, but..." your last note was drawn out as aventurine cocks a curious brow at you, "would it be okay to excuse myself for a bit?"

you continue shortly, fists balled, "it's a little stuffy here, you see, i'd love to take some fresh air without bothering you about it,"

in all honesty, the air was, well, utterly despicable. the lofty mixture of overpriced cologne and sweat penetrated your nostrils to the point where it began to ache and scratch your brain.

despite the fact that everything was overwhelming in its entirety.

being embarrassed by your human reactions might be an imprecise wording and false emotion to feel, you shouldn't feel bad about this. although you felt awkward and uneasy to ask aventurine if you could take a swift breather outside.

what if he found you to be boring now? or even worse, ungrateful when it was him who made it possible for you to see something like this in the first place.

a high class casino that could never be visited by the ordinary.

he looks at you through his glasses and you could swear his eyes had a mellow glow, a tender glimmer of serenity as his lips carve into a handsome smile, "oh of course, lets go right away so you won't get nauseous," he utters out, his stomach sitting heavy with lead and eagerness to look out for you.

you freeze for a second, "uh, wait, i really don't want to ruin this night for you," and sigh, letting your gaze wander around everywhere but his direction before tapping out a nervous rhythm against the soft marble on the floor.

all aventurine does was laugh airily, "you're adorable,"

"you're not ruining anything, in fact, you really couldn't, even if you tried,"

ugh, everything about you is just so pretty, you're sweet and angelic and he's glad he's bought this dress for you, it fits you like a second skin— aventurine takes note of your beauty, he stores it into the most important places in his brain so he could dream about you later.

memorize how this dress looks on you. closer and closer.

"but here, take my jacket, okay? it's rather cold," he flips his jacket down his shoulders before draping it over your own before suddenly closing the distance from his lips to your ear— silent, there's a voice next to your skin, it's deep, handsome and smoking hot. barely above an octave as it holds a teasing verge to it, "i wouldn't want you to catch a cold, yeah?"

you hum in agreement as you rest your hands above his clothed chest, butterflies storm through your belly and settle heavily inside as aventurine wraps one arm around your waist, his breath wafting around your lovely lips.

you felt the need to kiss him, and so did he, feel the same towards you. for a moment, you two linger feeling each others warmth a little longer, relishing in your precious attempts to getting to know each other better. it's slightly awkward, you could tell that aventurine noticed how your eyes were fighting the urge to keep admiring him.

yet, he's not complaining— he could never, not when you're so cute, and your touch on him was consistently warm, your trace firm but confident, content and safe.

he hopes you will enjoy yourself tonight, and maybe, only maybe, you will invite him over to your place later.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[cutielando]

Hello love, how is everything going?🫂

I'm the one from the Jay in the truck fic, which was amazing, you made someone very happy today (someone is me)😚🩷

If you have time you could write one where Jay dates the reader but he is a few years younger than him, but he's so proud to have met a girl like her, maybe someone on the team makes playful comments about it because he is tough in part but it is as if he was always so soft with her that they come to not know him. maybe they even see a couple of hickeys on him but he looks proud because he is LITERALLY so in love that he kisses the ground where she steps and he loves that they know he has a girl, a little pretentious about it🤭

Maybe also after a difficult case he looks for her because she is his safe space.🫶🏼🥹

This is a bit messy but I'm not good at putting ideas together, I apologize, also english is not my first language in case this is something difficult to understand.🥹🫶🏼

Also sorry that there are so many haha you can take them if you want or just let them pass if you don't feel comfortable, sending you love!💌

comfort person | j.h.

my masterlist

Jay couldn't believe his luck, in all honesty.

Ever since he could remember, his luck when it came to love and personal relationships was close to being non-existent. His relationship history was excellent proof of that.

But everything seemed to change for the better when he met you.

You had met in a bar, out of all places. Hit it off right away, chatted over a drink, promised to stay in touch.

And oh boy, had you stayed in touch.

You were wary of hanging out with Jay at first, mainly because of the dangers of his job (that he sometimes reminded you of) and because of the age difference.

5 years was not that much, if you were being realistic, but it was still something. You were afraid that you wouldn’t be the woman he was looking for, maybe his expectations in life didn’t align with yours.

Thankfully, you were very wrong about that.

And so, you found yourself together, 1 year later, happier and more in love than ever. Much to the joy of his team, who made it their mission to tease the fuck out of Jay every single day at the precinct.

Especially when they would notice certain marks on his neck after a wild night in bed.

Such an instance was right after the team had finished a very hard case involving a child kidnapping. When Jay got home, you could tell he was absolutely hammered and needed to unwind, so you did the thing you knew would help him out.

The next morning at the precinct, you went with him to say hi to the team, but you got teased instead.

“Woah, did an animal attack you last night?” Adam asked Jay as soon as he got a good look at his colleague.

Jay furrowed his eyebrows, while you were trying to hide your blush in his bicep.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, checking his arms for any kind of marks.

Adam smirked and pointed to his neck, which immediately made your boyfriend realize what he was talking about.

Even though you couldn’t see it because you were hiding your face into his arm, you could tell Jay was blushing furiously while being teased by his close friend.

“Don’t you dare say a word” Jay threatened Adam, who could only laugh at the situation between the two of you.

“I’m gonna go now” you murmured to Jay, quickly standing on your tiptoes to peck his cheek before basically running out of the precinct.

Jay could only blame Adam for your quick departure, much faster than what he had been hoping.

“She certainly keeps you active” Ruzek said once he came back from their break room with a cup of coffee.

“Shut up, Ruz. You’re just jealous you’re not getting any” Jay commented, making Adam act offended.

"I'm just saying, she's sure keeping you busy and fit" Adam continued, giving Jay a sly smile.

"She makes me happy" Jay confessed, smiling to himself when he thought about you and your relationship.

The conversation died with that, a new case putting a pause on Jay's thoughts about you for the time being.

Jay hadn't expected the case to be as rough as it was, and he felt awful by the time he got home to you. He was tired, his limbs were sore and his heart ached. The only thing he wanted in that moment was the sole comfort of your presence, your comforting hugs and just quality time spent away from his job.

When you heard the keys in the lock, you excitedly ran to the front door to welcome him, but your smile was instantly wiped off your face when you saw just how broken and tired he was.

"Rough day?" you asked as you cautiously watched him taking off his shoes and hanging his coat on the hanger.

"Yeah, got a tough care after you came home" he sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before going into the bedroom, placing his gun and badge into his safe before coming back out and joining you on the couch.

He melted into the soft couch, his hand finding yours instantly. You felt for him, not even wanting to imagine how tough his job must get on the hard days, like this one.

You moved Jay's head off the back of the couch and maneuvered him until he was resting his head into your lap, your fingers softly running through his soft hair.

"You want to talk about it?" you asked softly, careful not to disturb the serene atmosphere that had settled between the two of you.

His eyes opened and looked at you, dozens of emotions swimming behind his irises. The only thoughts that occupied his head were how lucky he was to have you, how cared for he was and how much he loved you. He cherished you more than you could ever know, especially in moments like this one, when he is reminded of just how grateful he should be for the life he has.

"I love you" he whispered softly, making you smile at him and lean down to peck his lips, your free hand caressing the side of his face softly.

"I love you more" you whispered back, licking your lips.

And so, the entire evening was spent exactly like that, whispering love confessions to each other like they were a secret to the entire world.

But you loved every second of it.

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[mt-oe]

𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙃𝙤𝙩—bandmate mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

I'm so so sorry for not being able to keep up with requests that well. My program is taking a lot of my time and beating the shit out of me (esp. u immunology and serology >:c).

Anyways, here's a sort of prequel for my headcanons because band au Mizu is so yummy.

Enjoy! Mwa mwa:*

warning: not proofread, she/her for mizu, will refer to her as a boy (bc she canonically appears like a man), implied afab reader

"But you're so good at playing the guitar, and you have the charisma too. You should definitely join our band. Even our manager is amazing. She—"

"For the last time, Ringo. I don't want to join your stupid band."

Mizu and Ringo were already getting ready to go home after finishing their term-end project for their elective, which just so happened to be music. She didn't really think it through when she enlisted and just picked whichever she thought was the easiest. Ringo, however, just picked the same elective as Mizu.

She carefully placed her electric guitar in its case, zipping it up and securing the locks before slinging it over her shoulder. "I have better things to do and joining a band is a waste of time," she added as she walked up to the door.

Ringo followed after her, a smile still on his face despite the rejection. "You never know. This might even be your calling," he chimed as they exited the room, making her groan out of annoyance. They headed into the parking lot where Mizu's bike was parked. "We have an audition in a week if you want," he said, waiting for his friend to put on her helmet.

Once Mizu was finished putting on her helmet, she hopped on and leaned forward, pushing her weight to retract the center stand. "Not interested," she groaned out, slightly muffled behind her helmet. Her foot kickstarted the bike on before she revved the engine up a bit.

"Well if you decide to change your mind, just send me a message." Ringo stepped back a bit to give Mizu some space to move. She grunted in response and drove forward, leaving her friend waving and shout goodbyes at her.

What's so great about joining a stupid band anyway?

It's probably just filled with pretentious kids pretending to be as good as their idols but can't even memorize which strings their hammer ons should be.

Another groan escaped her lips the more she thought about the offer. It was annoying. Yet, a somehow, a small part of her wanted to play even more. The desire ringing at the back of her head like an itch she couldn't scratch off.

What if she did join?

What if it was as much fun as Ringo always said it was?

A sigh escaped her lips at how bothered she was by her thoughts. Why was she even thinking about this? She can always play her instruments at home. A crowd wouldn't make a difference, she thought as the wind whizzed past.

Her thoughts continued to race as she drove home. This band thing was stupid. Maybe she shouldn't attend the audition after a—

"Hey goofy boy!" a voice called out.

'What? Me?' she thought, lifting her visor to look around for the source of the voice. Across the stoplight, she saw another woman waving at her enthusiastically. It was almost ridiculous to look at. She raised an eyebrow, looking at her sides and behind her to see if you were talking to someone else before pointing to herself inquisitively.

"Yes you! Across the stoplight! C'mere!" you yelled, signaling her to stop in front of the cafe you were standing in front of, not really caring if other people were looking at you with how silly you were being.

Her blue eyes narrowed at you, clearly suspicious of your intentions. And yet, the way you were smiling and calling her over made her feel...something. Once the light turned green, she drove over to you, pulling up at the lot in front of the cafe.

You walked over to her, letting out a sigh of relief as she kicked the side stands on. "What do you want?" she asked in a low voice that clearly indicated that she didn't trust you even one bit.

"That.." You pointed to the guitar case on her back, making her raise an eyebrow cautiously. What did you want with her baby huh? She was so ready to throw hands.

"What model? And how long have you been playing?" you asked, still pointing to her guitar. Mizu looked over her shoulder being sighing. This was a waste of time. "I'm not inclined to tell you that," she replied, getting ready to kick her side stands off.

You snorted at her cold reply before leaning closer until she was face-to-face with you no matter how much she pulled away. The proximity allowing her to take in your features better and you were quite...pretty?

No. Wait.

Let's focus on how much of nuisance you were being.

Before she could even kick off her side stands, you already blocked her foot with yours. "Join our band," you said in a serious tone, showing her a business card before placing it in her jacket, smile still on your face.

Mizu groaned and rolled her eyes. "No. Now get your foot off before I kick it off," she replied. Yet, you kept your foot in the way of her stands, making her eyebrows knit together. "You look really goofy riding that bike of yours with a huge ass guitar case on your back," you said, eyes glancing at her guitar case before staring into her eyes intently. "You have talent, don't you?"

The smile on your face despite how serious and forward you were being was unnerving. "So what? I'm not going to join your band," she said in a low voice. Indeed, she was quite stubborn, but nowhere near your level. This motorist was the diamond in the rough you were looking for. "Goofy boy, join me in the café. It's my treat."

There was no way she's going into that café just for you to give her your sales talk and convince her to join your stupid unknown band. Not in a million years

—was what she thought.

Yet here she was, helmet off and sitting in front of you with a cup of matcha latte, watching you take a bite out of the cake you bought for yourself. After taking a slow sip, she sighed and narrowed her eyes at you. "I thought we were here talk about your band," she scoffed.

You smiled at her yet again, fork still in between your lips. "You're not going to talk right away, right? So let's take our time." A small 'tch' escaped her lips as she leaned back against the chair.

"Fine. I'll talk," she replied, staring at you up and down. Now that she was able to sit down and relax the tiniest bit, she was finally taking her time to look at you. And you weren't an eyesore at all. In fact, you were really fucking cute.

She's still not joining your band though.

A small giggle escaped your lips as you placed the fork down, resting your elbows on the table and intertwining your fingers together. "What model?" you asked, eyes darting to the guitar case beside your table.

Mizu glanced at it as her hands wrapped around the handle of her cup. "A les paul," she replied before taking a sip. Your smile widened before you took a sip from your cup as well, setting it down when she set hers down. "How long have you been playing?"

"Long enough," she replied, glancing at you, rolling her eyes at how you stared at her with curiosity, as if coercing her to tell more. "Fine, fine...before I started high school. I think. Maybe even longer."

You hummed in satisfaction and took another bite out of your cake. "Any other instruments?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow back at you. "A bass. A mustang."

Silence washed over both of you as you continued to eat your cake, making her feel a bit nervous. A small clink was heard as you put your fork down after taking your final bite. "What's your name, goofy boy?"

"Mizu," she replied before taking her drink into her hands. She downed it in one go, placing the cup down and picking her guitar case up. "This is pointless. I'm leaving," she said in a low husky voice, getting ready to stand up.

It was clear to her that she shouldn't have given so much time to you. She wasn't even interested in joining. Maybe if you weren't so cute, she wouldn't have tried to hear you out.

Before she can even stand up, you beat her to it, pushing her back down on the chair gently. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as you leaned forward again.

"I'll make you a star."

Huh?

Her clear surprise and confusion made you giggle. What the hell were you talking about? You pulled away and placed your hands on your hips, giving her a confident smile.

"Talent recognizes talent, Mizu. It may not be now, but I'll make you a star," you beamed.

Mizu blinked before scoffing. "That's ridiculous," she sneered before standing up and putting her helmet on. "For the last time, I'm not fucking joining your stupid audition."

Was what she said.

But here she was, a week later, sitting down inside the studio hallway. Her eyes watched as the auditionees chatted amongst themselves. Those who were done with the audition complaining about how strict the judge was, who she learned was just one person.

Her nerves were sending jitters to the tips of fingers, her throat tightening up slightly in anticipation. She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. Just as she opened her eyes, she jumped slightly at the sight of a familiar pair of feet in front of her.

"I knew you were going to change your mind," her friend's voice chimed.

Looking up, she made eye contact with Ringo who was beaming at her, drumsticks tied to his stubby hands. "But how did you know where our studio is?"

This was the band Ringo was talking about? Oh boy.

She grunted and handed him the business card you snuck into her jacket. "The address is written there," she said with a sigh. He let out a small "oh" before his eyes widened even more. "So you've met her before," he replied cheerfully, handing the business card back.

"Who?" she asked, a serious yet curious look on her face. He looked confused for a moment before he replied, "Our manager. The one who handed you that card?" She wanted to ask more questions, but then a voice suddenly called for the drummer. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I gotta go. Bye!"

Upon Ringo leaving, Mizu sat back down and closed her eyes again, resting her elbows on her knees.

Some time later, all the auditionees had finished and yet, it seems that all of them had been rejected. "This is a waste of time. I should have left earlier," she muttered to herself.

Just as she was about to leave the studio, her name was called, leaving her with no choice. Slowly, she entered the room only to be greeted with—

"You came!" your voice beamed.

Her eyes scanned around the room to see you sitting down on a chair, holding some papers, as well as the other band members presumably. "And you're the manager apparently," she said plainly. A chuckle escaping your lips as you nodded. "You can get ready whenever you want to."

Once her guitar was plugged in and ready to go, she looked up at you again, waiting for any further instructions. Despite her mind telling her that there was nothing to be nervous about, her gut was squeezing and churning from anticipation.

Should she do her best? Or should she fuck this up?

Your eyes watched her carefully, observing how she handled her guitar. "Play any song you'd like," you said, leaning forward in your seat as you set the papers down on a chair beside you.

No. She didn't want to be in this stupid band. She's not going to do her best.

Why the fuck would she do that?

This wasn't even worth it.

Nononononononono—

She looked down on her guitar before beginning to strum the familiar intro of Smells Like Teen Spirit. Despite her bobbing her head slightly, it was clear through her body language that she wasn't even trying at all.

The smile on your face slowly disappeared until all that was left was an unreadably neutral expression. Once she was done, she looked at you with a bored expression. "Well?"

You sighed at her, giving her the same bored expression back, making her smirk a bit. "Guess I'm not in, am I?" She unplugged her guitar, getting ready to put it back in the case before your hands stopped her.

"Sit back down. We're not done," you said in a serious tone, facial expression neutral yet your eyes told her that you were daaaaaaaamn annoyed with how little of an effort she put in. The look in your eyes, they way you were gripping the neck of her guitar, did something to her. "I don't owe you a performance," she replied.

You glared at her lightly before snatching her guitar from her hands, causing her to glare at you. She tried to grab her guitar back but you kept evading her as you plugged it back in. Once it was plugged back on, you pushed towards her, making her stumble back a bit from how harsh you did it.

"Now sit down and play. Talent recognizes talent, Mizu," you growled at her. The scene causing everyone in the room to go quiet. It was clear to them that you were pissed. "If not, then sell that guitar. You're wasting it."

After all, the only thing you hated more than the equipment suddenly breaking was wasted potential. And Mizu was wasting a LOT of potential.

Your words struck a nerve in her causing her. With a loud screech, she pulled the chair towards her and sat down. "Fine. If it gets you to shut the fuck up."

She looked at you with one final glare as she leaned back, hands beginning to move against her guitar.

She began playing Hotel California, immediately skipping to the guitar rift at the end of the song.

By the normal person's ear, it wasn't anything special. There were more impressive sounding songs out there. But to you, you knew how difficult it was to get the tone of the song right with how slow it was compared to other rifts. If she made a mistake here, a wrong pluck, a wrong drag, a wrong vibrato, the mistake would be so painfully obvious.

And yet, here Mizu was, playing it perfectly with the same angry look on her face. She was damn mad at you for touching her guitar, for pushing her towards your stupid fucking band. And yet, she couldn't help but want to impress you.

Did she really not want to be in the band?

Why was she trying so fucking hard then?

Like her body was moving on its own.

Like her hands were itching to play more.

As she ended the song, she looked down at the ground. Suddenly, the sound of clapping caused her to perk up and look at you. The sight causing her breath to hitch a blush to dust over her cheeks. That was when she knew the answer to her question.

It was you and your proud little smile.

That cute fucking smile.

All the annoyance and anger you held at her melted off during her little performance. You knew you saw talent. The moment you saw that goofy looking motorist with the awkwardly large hard guitar case at the stoplight, talent already hit you like a damn truck.

Although she knew you were satisfied with her performance, she couldn't help but want to try more. She'll try. She'll damn try for the hottest fucking manager she has ever seen. Her earlier hesitations of whether she wanted to join the band or not disappearing.

Call it a gay agenda but she was going to secure this fucking spot. She'll be best fucking guitarist you have ever heard or seen.

Just as you were about to congratulate her, she raised a hand up to cut you off. "Wait—fuck—that was too easy. I... goddamnit. Wait, I'll try doing something harder," she said in a panicked slur.

Her hands immediately went back to her guitar, eyes narrowing in thought. If an impressive guitar rift was what she needed...

Suddenly, she began playing the guitar rift for Free Bird. Eyes glued to her guitar, palms sweating a bit as she hit every chord, every pluck, every fucking bend.

You couldn't place your finger on what it was, but somehow, it felt like she was playing more passionately. Like she was putting her all into this one song. Was it the way she was bobbing her head? Or the way she moved her guitar during every vibrato? Maybe the way her body moved with the music?

Once the song ended, she closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. You couldn't help but giggle at how flustered she looked, making her blush again.

"Am I in?" she asked, looking at you with hidden desperation in her eyes, making you giggle even more. Her eyebrows furrowed as you continued to laugh, not really answering her question. "Well?"

A gulp went down her throat as you stood up from your chair and picking up the papers you previously held. "Mizu," you giggled out, "You were already in from the moment you tried again."

...

oh

Well that was embarrassing.

You handed her the contract and a pen, humming as she read the content before signing. Looking at her signature, your smile widened. This flustered looking guitarist was exactly what you were looking for and you just hit jackpot.

"You won't regret this, Mizu. I swear." She glanced at you, scanning the big smile you had on your face before looking down at her guitar and unplugging it. "I better not."

Suddenly, you lunged forward at her. Her eyes widened when you suddenly took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together. "Talent recognizes talent," you repeated, leaning closer to her, grip tightening with every word.

"I'll make you a star."

She'll be your star.

[bloop-bl00p]

Rewriting Sir Pentious justice for the snake boie

Doesn’t anyone find it weird how we’re gonna have the backstory of everyone in later seasons?

Not only do they hardly follow the redemption aspects but they also give us little to nothing about the characters. I can buy that Heaven is corrupt and/or unfair but rather than having Adam throwing curse words and profanities every five seconds, why not show it in elements of the main cast backstory?

Reveal that they were essentially in unjust situations where they had no other choice but sins to survive, the type of stories that’ll make the audience think “Is Heaven fair in its judgment?” then you have the reveal that the system is corrupted. It feels like common sense to me.

Anyway, Sir Pentious wasn’t that much of an asshole in my rewrite, we understand why he acted the way he did but he still fucked up.

Madhav Karmakar was born in 1858. He was an Indian migrant in England who wanted to follow a partnership in engineering. Studying hard and else he worked ten times harder than the other students due to prejudice regarding his origin.

He made his way into a prestigious university and went out with his diploma ready to show off his skill but generally still faced racial discrimination. Throughout his life, Madhav had to do everything in his power to completely suppress anything that tied him to his country, fully adopting British mannerisms and culture, suppressing his accent, and else. At 17, he became an apprentice and started studying Mechanical Engineering, ending officially his studies at 24.

His hardship allowed him to work alongside others to develop steam machines and various ways of transportation. Despite having clearly mastered, and even ameliorated his domain, Madhav still had fewer opportunities compared to his colleagues and was paid less than the other regardless of the amount of work he put in.

What was first jealousy due to the unfairness of his situation quickly became Envy directed at his white counterparts. He started slowly destroying the reputation of his associates mostly by secretly sabotaging their work in various manners, introducing faulty designs, tampering with documentation, sabotaging equipment and tools, and anything really just to make himself feel better.

It lasted for years until one of his sabotages cost him his life. In 1888 at 30 years old, he caused one structure to collapse and the debris fell on him breaking his legs, he died screaming for help under the remains and suffocated because of the dust.

A few years following his arrival in Hell, he used his ingenuity to create steampunk-style machines in order to conquer territory. Problems, most of the lands were already owned by powerful Overlords. Madhav overestimated his inventions a lot so he got his nonexistent ass beaten all the time. He even gained the nickname Sir Pretentious though he still tries and insists on being called by his real surname (nobody does.)

The dude persisted, gaining the reputation of the village fool. Surprisingly for everyone he finally managed to get his hand on a very small portion of a territory… only for it to be snatched away by a punk rookie a week later. It would be easy for any Overlord to step up but they have their own business to take care of and some find it funny to see those two quarrel all the time.

Bit of a fun fact:

�� If I had to redesign him, he’d be fit with a large figure, we’re talking of the man who built this alone…

.. I doubt the egg boys can lift things too heavy considering they are fragile. So yeah, Madhav isn’t a twink.

→ The egg boys aren’t literal eggs just small mechanical robots he built to be his minions, if they were to break they’ll be gears everywhere but he could still rebuild them later. He wishes he could make them a bit smarter.

→ Snakes are very often associated with lies and manipulation and everything related to it. That’s what Madhav has been as a human, an envious liar. But, snakes can also symbolize renewal and rebirth in other cultures, and since he’s gonna be the first redeemed it kinda fits. I don’t know if Viv knew this but shout out to her if she did.

→ Keeping the romance with Cherry, I can appreciate a really good Enemy to Lover but the way it was framed feels like Cherry only got interested when she learned he had two dick, which feels icky and disingenuous.

So, I thought of slowly making their relationship more of a “Are they fighting or flirting” type of thing. That and having Cherry make comments between their fight like “You’re getting better at this!” which flatters Madhav because he never really had recognition for his fighting skills or invention.

He’s still a bit stuck in the old-timey way of courtship, and considering those things could last 3 to 4 years, with him you can expect the slowest slow burn possible. Anyway, he still respects lots of British traditions, being a regular correspondent and sending letters and gifts. I can see him asking to go on a walk or organize Rendez-vous to learn more about Bomb when his rivalry gets more friendly.

→ His obsession with fighting Alastor comes from the fact that he didn't manage to get up the stairs as quickly as the deer did. So he’s envious and seeks to beat Alastor in a battle to prove he’s the superior one, but he loses every time. His last chance is to side with the Vees, but Vox doesn't even bat an eye when he is near. So just imagine how ecstatic he was when Vox proposed to him to be a spy. While the first weeks were fine, he found himself getting attached to the staff more and more. It was a genuine environment where few people actually recognized him as the brilliant engineer he was (I thought he could actually help with the hotel construction since the building is old and all) and they actually called him by his name.

Not siding with Vox will be the first step to his redemption, renouncing to act of his envious feelings and focusing on what he already had rather than seeking to destroy those above him.

→ His lisp gets worse when he’s lying, he obliviously maintains a whole evil British persona in his quest for respect so as he slowly starts to get genius he’ll slowly start to speak with more ease.

→ Regarding how he’ll appear once in Heaven, he’ll be a human. I find it strange that you don't get to get your human appearance once saved. Viv said it herself, the reason why sinners look like that is because their appearance is in correlation with their sins, life, and the ways they die. It’s a way to mock them.

If this dude or girl gets redeemed, they’ll stay on a couch and that’s just sad, imagine you die go to Hell redeem yourself and you're still a furniture. Anyway, Madhav will get his human form back but with hints of his demonic form.

Kinda like Lovesart23 you should go see her videos and rewrite.

[savepc2023]

Do they have rizz?

🤨📸

Robin: Yes. A hundred times yes. Students see them walking by and they swoon. Specifically, they've got that 'girl/boy next door' rizz. Everyone (and by everyone I mean the more wholesome of the bunch because let's be honest most of them are downright nasty) wants to kiss their dimples.

Whitney: Well... yes and no? They have charisma, but it's more of aaaaa uh. Like they make an lasting impression. And maybe if they were nice they'd be somewhat on par with Robin. But they're not so all they got going for them is they're rough and sexy and people are into that. But in terms of romance? Hell no. No one wants to get with them like that.

Pure Sydney: Yes but to only a select few: The ones that have a certain type, which iiiis 'pure awkward baby girl/boy that is considered a role model'. Because to be honest if you're not one of those people you'd probably be a little scared and a bit annoyed of sydney tbh. Especially if you're a bit of a mischievous student bc what if they tell on you or smth??? nah. And plus they have a killer glare that just screams 'gtfo my way'.

Corrupted Sydney: The rizziest of them all. The rizzanator. The rizzly bear. The three rizzketeers. They are so hot and for what. With proper communication with pc (if they're dating), they openly flirt with literally everyone. Innuendos thrown into the air and suggestive pick up lines whispered huskily....lord. But that's about as far as it goes, they love leaving people hot and bothered just to sneak off with you to tickle your neck with kisses.

Kylar: Hear me out. Hear me out. Now you might think they have ZERO rizz and YOU'RE RIGHT. THEY HAVE ZERO. ZILCH. NADA. BUT THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT GIVES THEM RIZZ. THEY'RE PATHETIC AND SOME PEOPLE(me) LOVE THAT. Except the people that take an interest in them are too afraid to approach them lest they transfer some of his encounters with bullies to themself. Either that or it's purely sexual like they just want to fuck them and toss them aside.

Avery: N.....no. They're hot as fuck, don't get me wrong but that's....about where it ends. Unlike Whitney, nobody even wants to fuck them because uhhh bad attitude. Also most of the town seems to be into obedient subs? So yeah. Like their arrogance, their bitchy-ness, their pride and how pretentious they come across..........ew. But yeah, no bitches no rizz and definitely no head. (I'd still peg them tho)

Eden: No. He looks hot but he's too scary for that to give anyone confidence to strut up to him. Also there's almost no one to rizz up when you're living deep inside the woods in a cabin. There's a reason the only time he got a bitch was because they developed stockholm syndrome.

Alex: Yes<3 Similar to Robin in a way but unlike with them when people feel at ease and comfortable, with Alex you feel energized. Like you just wanna fuckinf chase eachother and end up tackling the other and just make out in the open. Like oughhh he is so sexy and cute. Save a horse, ride a farmer.

[losergender]

masterpost of solangelo + others fic recommendations

absolutely no one asked for these but i need them all storaged in one place.

[ list goes from solangelo multi-chaptered fics to one-shots + other ships at the end ! will be updated from time to time ! ]

last edited : 17 - 09 - 2024

MULTICHAPTERED SOLANGELO FICS !

just an animal, looking for a home - ikeasharksss (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44264458)

Mortal 1987 AU. Nico is running away from his home in Washington, DC to find his sister, Bianca, at UCLA. Will is running away from his home in rural Texas to find his long-lost father, Lester Apollo Papadopoulos, in Hollywood. The two of them meet on the road and become runaway buddies, going on a journey together to survive Greyhound buses, amateur punk bands, Pizza Huts, pretentious music tastes, and their own pasts, tooth and nail.

talk your talk and go viral (i just need this love to spiral) - wrongcaitlyn (https://archiveofourown.org/works/46368430)

“Keep telling yourself that,” Will says quietly, because even though the door is closed, speaking any louder would seem wrong. “You’re too harsh on yourself. If you wrote songs or something, you’d easily get on the Billboard Hot 100. Dad would help you. I would, too.” “Promote it to your seven followers?” “Yes!” Nico laughs, and then Will is joining him, and they’re closer than before, but it’s nothing unusual. It’s been this way since before stupid feelings and stupid crushes, and Nico would be damned if he let it change just because of that. or a celebrity au ft. childhood friends to lovers, a bit of trauma, and a famous friend group (plus leo).

of crowns and claws - PawsOnTheKeyboard (https://archiveofourown.org/works/47818261)

Freshly sixteen, Nico takes off on a ceremonial quest, one meant to prove to the kingdom that he would be able to take over the throne when King Hades, his father, was gone. The issue? Nico has little desire to be king and even less motivation to do what's expected of him. Because while 'prove yourself capable of rule' was a vague task, Nico knew what his father and the kingdom expected from him. If Nico didn't return with a dead dragon, his quest would be regarded as a failure. Because his father had killed many dragons on his own quest when he was a boy, had deemed dragons and dragon shifters as the natural enemy of the Kingdom of Olympus, so it just made sense that his son would follow in his footsteps and do the same. Or, it made sense to anyone who wasn't Nico, because he shared none of the hatred his father had for dragons and dragon shifters and expected his quest to result in disappointment from his father and the rest of the kingdom. So when he left on his sixteenth birthday, he had no plan, and almost immediately injured himself. His savior is a stranger that soon becomes a dear friend. And he also might be why Nico decides to openly defy his father.

can't see you, im losing my mind this time? - rabbit_soup (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38765766)

“You’ve got micro-pieces of glass in your skin, and I can’t in my right mind let that stuff just fester in there.” “Glass…? Where—?” He racked his brain, slowly glancing up at Will. He didn’t remember breaking any glass on the quest. “Strangest thing,” Will said, pulling an orange container out of the box. On its side, it read Arm and Hammer, Baking Soda in thick white lettering. “Both Annabeth and Percy swung by a few minutes ago, talking about the exact same thing—glass in their hands! The both of ‘em! Isn’t that interesting?” The glass beaches in Tartarus... Nico thought.

The Rose of Paphos - Tundras_and_Taigas (https://archiveofourown.org/works/30327402)

During a trip up to the Big House’s attic, Will, Valentina, and Mitchell stumble across an old relic of Aphrodite’s: the Rose of Paphos. Created by Hephaestus as a courting gift, the ancient metal rose blooms whenever it's held by someone who harbours romantic love for another. When the rose reveals Will's hidden feelings for an unnamed camper, Nico isn't sure whether to hold out hope or try to move on. OR: Nico and Will need a little nudge. Aphrodite is happy to oblige.

peach tea - ghosttotheparty (https://archiveofourown.org/works/48987730)

He sits up after a moment, but Nico doesn’t let go of his fingers, so he lifts the arm that’s awkward between them and sets it behind Nico, leaning back to rest on it. Nico just looks at the tapestry. Will brushes his thumb over the side of Nico’s hand gently. His skin is soft. Nico’s fingers tighten on Will’s. It kind of feels like neither of them wants to move. Will doesn’t mind. or; Will falls in love with the new kid.

Opportunity Knocks - nikkiRa (https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690698)

Two years after the war with Gaia, Nico tries to run away again, but on the way he is ambushed by Aphrodite, who has decided to take a personal interest in him - lucky him. Nico finds himself stuck in a Groundhog Day situation, reliving the same day over and over until he can figure out what the hell Aphrodite wants from him.

SOLANGELO ONE-SHOTS !

Bigger 'n Texas - notalotgoingonatthisinstant (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217360)

The accent. The accent was his problem. Well, it wasn’t his only problem. There were a lot of other things that drew Nico to the son of Apollo, to the point of him actually considering if he returned his feelings. All he knew was that he was going crazy and one of them would have to speak soon. . . . "'I’ll be back real quick with lunch,' Will told him. 'Don’t go anywhere. Unless I’m not back in twenty minutes, then you can hunt down my siblings until you find the culprit,' he winked. Nico told the skeletal butterflies in his stomach to quiet down and managed to keep a smile on his face until the door closed behind Will. Then he smacked himself in the forehead for being so stupid stupid stupid, again. First, get a crush on the live version of his childhood game hero. Then get a crush on the caring healer who was nursing him back to life. What was his problem?"

carving through the dark (to get so far) - doeheart (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51640546)

"Your soulmate wears all the bad things you believe about yourself on their skin. They hold it for you so you don't have to. When you look at the things you don’t like about yourself, you also have to face someone who loves you. It’s like feeling whole again. Apollo’s the god of truth, you know. So there are no lies between soulmates." Will got his first soulmark at night. Coiled around his bicep like a snake, the word 'cursed' hissed in jet-black letters. The marks kept coming after that. An au where all the worst things your soulmate believes about themselves show up on your skin. Will wants to know why his soulmate hates himself.

Those walls I built didn't even put up a fight - sazandorable (https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482184)

"Is it morally okay to stab a medic with their own scissors?" Nico asked Cecil. (Not that he usually cared about morally okay, as Octavian might demonstrate.) Nico's three days in the infirmary go by faster than he'd thought, and Will just won't stop flirting.

i could be your hero - sundaysabotage (https://archiveofourown.org/works/24528247)

“I just don’t get it,” he huffs to Will as they put up holiday decorations in the unusually quiet infirmary, “they talk to me like I’m supposed to know stuff. Like I’m the new Percy or something.” Nico expects Will to laugh at this, shrug off his concerns as unfounded and tell him he’s being over-dramatic like usual. He is wrong. “Okay, babe, don’t take this the wrong way. But, you kind of are the new Percy.”

OTHERS !

Like a New Yorker - notalotgoingonatthisinstant (https://archiveofourown.org/works/25231837)

Annabeth knew Percy was from New York City. Born and raised. She was very aware of that fact whenever she couldn’t understand what he’d said because he’d spoken so fast that there were barely any words. She had gotten used to it, having lived in New York for a while. What she hadn’t exactly gotten used to yet was… well. How many times he could let f*** slip in front of the little kids at Camp. // OR Percy curses like a true New Yorker and son of Poseidon, Annabeth's trying to keep things flowing, and Piper makes fun of him so he makes fun of her. Because, really, sometimes she sounds like a Kardashian and he sounds like he's not even speaking English.

King-sized Candy Bars - liktetolaugh (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44380360)

It takes a week or two for Percy and Grover to actually become friends, even after they're roomed together. Because Percy, twelve years old, pragmatic, and hostile, is about as easy to make friends with as Thalia was. Hopefully, Grover will pull it off in the end.

Stars on the Water - liketolaugh (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38319247) i love this one so much

"I dunno, I just think it would make a lot of things easier for a lot of people," Percy said to Thalia, when she just stared at him. His cheek rested in his hand, a rare pensive look leaving his eyes distant and unfocused. "Mom has Paul now, so it’ll be easier on her if she doesn’t have to worry about me mucking things up. Dad won’t have to keep threatening war every time Zeus gets his toga twisted. The prophecy’s done, so I won’t be bringing it down on Nico. And no one will have to worry about me blowing up another volcano."

Fathoms Below - inkncoffee (https://archiveofourown.org/works/4403855/chapters/10001051)

King Poseidon has forbidden any of his merpeople from visiting the surface and the dangerous landwalkers that dwell on it. Naturally, that made Prince Percy want to talk to the pretty blonde landwalker even more. After rescuing the princess from drowning, Percy trades his fin for legs to better understand this strange new world and the beautiful gray eyed girl he saved. Only, he has no idea what he's doing and the princess doesn't seem to either. Know what he's doing that is. "Oh, Seaweed Brain." He was pretty sure that was an insult.

forever going with the flow (but you're friction) - wrongcaitlyn (https://archiveofourown.org/works/58466251/chapters/148934692)

“Who’s the opener?” Magnus asks Blitz, signing at the same time for Hearth. He usually looks these things up beforehand, but then again, the concert had been a last-second sort of thing. Annabeth had offered some spots in the VIP section of one of her friend’s shows while he and his friends were in town, and because Magnus has gotten quite used to Annabeth throwing around random excursions, he immediately said yes. Blitz shrugs, but a moment later, the name appears across the screen, and he helpfully reads out: “Alex Fierro.” Magnus would scoff and say, “Thanks,” sarcastically if his attention wasn’t caught once again by the figure on the stage. Alex Fierro, apparently, grabs the mic just as the music starts. It’s hard to see her—or him? Them?— before Alex appears on the screen, her full frame in view. Magnus can’t help but stare. or a celebrity au ft. a world tour, no sexuality crises, and some threats of decapitation.

[agustdiv1ne]

CONGRATS ON 3K ASHLEE 🥳🫶🏼✨ you’re truly amazing and here’s to many more milestones!!

right so, ik this isn’t a movie, but I was wondering if you could do something along the lines of bridgerton + beomgyu + fluff and smut please 🥹 but if it really is just movies, then titanic with the same member and genre please <3 thank you in advance <3

NOW SHOWING...

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: historical fiction, romance, fluff, smսt

wc: 4.2k

details + warnings: mdni, beomgyu and mc's characters are jack and rose adjacent but they actually have a happy ending bc i said so <3, mentions of alcohol, no established dom/sub dynamics but gyu takes the lead a bit, soft + romantic sex, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this!!), my big dick gyu agenda makes an appearance, light dirty talk, a little possessiveness, beomgyu calls mc: love, beautiful

note: SMILES!! TYSM <33 you are one of of my longest moots and i appreciate you and your talent so much! i've unfortunately never watched bridgerton (or else i would have used that ;-;), though i do adore titanic so i ultimately went with that ^^

you have found sunsets to be far more magnificent at high sea.

tonight brings one that is, by far, one of your most beloved from the voyage thus far: a sky flushed a deep rose, billowing clouds contrived of fairy floss drifting above your head. the horizon holds clear where the roseate hue melts into the ocean and scatters about the peaks of gentle waves. it's quite a breathtaking sight, almost too good to be true. a painting; that is what it resembles — you wish that you could reach up and brush your hands through it, watch it coat and swirl about your fingertips like smudged pigments on canvas.

leaning against the railing, you inhale a deep breath of fresh, salt-heavy air. it stings as it fills your lungs. despite the beginnings of spring, the weather has remained chilly, growing further frigid whenever the sky fades to black. now, the sun hangs low, sinking closer and closer to the sea that awaits to swallow it whole — you will be forced to return back inside soon.

sighing quietly, your mind wanders to beomgyu, the man who has won over your affections over the past five days. you wish he could be here with you to see this picturesque display. where is he right now? on one of the lower decks, perhaps? should you go find him?

does he miss you as much as you do him?

not even half a day has passed since you last saw each other, but these thoughts swirl within your brain nonetheless. busy mixing with pretentious elites and the potential suitors your mother demanded that you meet throughout the day, you hadn't found time to sneak away and meet with him despite your aching desire to. you just barely avoided your mother's watchful gaze to escape out here and finally be able to breathe.

as naïve as it may sound, you feel as though you've known the charming man your entire life. strangers with a divine connection — you ponder if you must have known beomgyu in a past life, fell for him just as you do now. your typically rational mind supplies you with grandiose ideas of running away, of fleeing this suffocating, predetermined path that you were born into. he is a breath of fresh air after all of the men that you have met who only wish to marry and mold you into a submissive, obedient housewife that they can then neglect. unlike those men — no, you think, those insolent boys, he is not hungry to further his wealth, to fasten his name to yours for the sake of status. he doesn't expect you to change yourself. rather, he takes you as you are, with all your sharp edges and imperfections, and worships you down to the marrow of your bones.

the longing to wander the entire ship until you find him strikes you square in the chest like a sack of flour, knocking the breath from your lungs. your heart aches. you want to see him. you must see him.

“i should’ve known i’d find you out here.” 

it's quite strange, how the hand of fate plays its cards. you whip your head around, and there he is, with his sun-kissed skin and wind-tousled hair, as if he had somehow heard your thoughts and rushed to meet you. the upward quirk of his lips conveys both fondness and mischief while he moves closer to you, gentle hands wrapping around your waist. you mirror his expression, relief flooding your system at his well-timed arrival. sliding your hands over his shoulders, you link your fingers together around the nape of his neck.

“gyu,” you whisper while you surge forward to embrace him, pressing your face into the junction between his neck and shoulder. he nearly stumbles, but quickly regains his balance, returning the hug. “i missed you.”

“we saw each other this morning,” he chuckles, but the way his arms tighten around you betray his true emotions. 

you deliver a light pinch to his neck in jest, mumbling against his neck, “you’re impossible.”

this simply makes him laugh harder, his chest shuddering against your own. he curls a hand under your chin to remove your face from his neck, and his chestnut-colored eyes find yours. “and you love it.”

“unfortunately, yes,” you admit with a sigh. he smiles wider at that.

a peaceful silence fills the air between you. only the sounds of the ship cutting through the sea fills your ears. turning in his hold until his back presses against your chest, you look back out to the horizon. the pink sky has faded into a muted indigo, the sun barely a semicircle along the horizon. the air has grown colder now, but the warmth that beomgyu exudes wards off the chill that runs deep beneath your skin. your place one hand atop the ones looped around your stomach, the other reaching up to play with the ends of his soft hair.

“where’d you disappear off to today?” beomgyu breaks the quiet first. he feels the way you stiffen within his hold, how your fingers stop toying with his hair, the deep breath you exhale. you can that he immediately regrets asking.

“my mother,” you begin to explain, a bitter, sour note in your voice. “she dragged me from party to party today. they weren’t even parties, really, just excuses to flaunt wealth and peacock about. it was absolutely ridiculous.”

you hear the small giggle he allows at your choice of words, and your lips turn up again. teasing, you say, “i’m glad my misery amuses you.”

“no, never,” he hastily says, oddly serious. your fingers rubbing soothing circles against his scalp is a silent confirmation that you know. a few beats of silence pass once more, your eyes trained on how the sun continues its descent below the horizon.

the ocean's maw has fully consumed the sun when he pulls you back against him, his warm breath caressing the shell of your war and causing you to shiver. the quintessentially impish lilt of his voice returns, a smirk rich on his lips.

“wanna go to a real party?”

and to a real party he takes you. a gathering on a lower deck, the tunes played by the instrument-wielding passengers brash and loud. others sing, some dance, many drink. it's as if you are walking into a brand new world, seeing colors you have never seen before. it is so disorienting yet exhilarating at the same time.

your hand enveloped in his, beomgyu guides you into the sea of noise and moving bodies with confidence towards two men who cheer his name at the sight of him. they each hold a glass of amber ale, eyes glazed over as they spot you behind their friend.

“you finally made it! thought you weren’t comin’,” the slightly taller of the two calls, his words slurred. his fox like eyes meet yours again, and he grins. “you must be the girl he’s been ravin’ about! y/n, right?”

you offer a shy nod and a polite smile, nerves apparent in the way your eyes dart across the room. next to you, beomgyu grows a bit red in the face, but holds you closer to him. how easily he picks up on your emotional state is beyond you, but appreciated.

beomgyu moves to introduce the two men, and you learn the taller one is named yeonjun. the shorter man, his eyes as round as a doe's, is named taehyun. he is far more reserved compared to the other two, but welcoming nonetheless. you converse with them for a considerable amount of time, growing more comfortable the longer you stand with them. none of them seem to care that you come from a wildly opposite walk of life as them; they treat you as a friend all the same.

the conversation soon turns to their history and how exactly they came to know beomgyu. they happened to meet while in paris, yeonjun explains, bonding over their shared heritage and quickly developing a close friendship.

“it’s a miracle we even got on this ship!” yeonjun laughs before he takes another swig of his drink. “gyu won a game of cards back at the port just before she set sail. lucky guy, ain’t he?”

“yeah,” beomgyu responds before you are able to utter a word, looking down at you with fondness coloring his gaze. “i really am.”

the two men soon depart on a search for more alcohol, leaving you and beomgyu alone. he does not take long in snatching your hand to drag you towards the makeshift dance floor.

“beomgyu, wait, i can’t—”

“c’mon!” he exclaims. “dance with me!”

he pulls you close to him as soon as you reach the space. chest to chest, hand in hand. your eyes widen, frantic.

with haste, your voice strained in order to be heard over the music, you say, “beomgyu i don’t, i don’t know this dance, i can’t do this!”

“sure you can!” he jovially yells. “just follow my lead!”

the music surges around your bodies as you begin to skip about the room. with beomgyu guiding you along to the fast-paced tempo, your apprehension melts away. you do not have to be in control, you can simply feel and allow yourself to flow along with him. you squeal as your unsuitably formal dress flutters around your legs and your heeled shoes click against the floor rhythmically. both of you laugh unabashedly, growing drunk on the excitement of it all. your heart beats erratically against your ribcage, your cheeks beginning to hurt from how wide you beam.

you feel more alive in this moment than you have in your entire life.

he spins you around and around until you grow dizzy. then, you are off once again, eventually joining a line of people holding hands and snaking about the room. you skip along with one hand held by a woman who speaks to you in rapid french and the other still taken by beomgyu, who attempts to translate her words, albeit poorly.

out of breath, you squeeze his hand, and he takes your hint; you break away from the line. others easily fill the void that you leave.

you stumble, giggling, and beomgyu catches you. harebrained and giddy and every cell of your body positively surging with joy, you are unable to even think your actions through before you are cupping his face in your hands and crashing your lips against his.

whoops and hollers sound around you, but the sole thing that permeates your senses is beomgyu's soft lips melding with your own. the grip of his hands upon your waist fortifies, but only enough to hold you to ensure your unchanging propinquity. hurried, ravenous, you devour each other in the middle of the crowd until you grow desperate for oxygen. pulling away, you draw a breath deep into your lungs, mouth agape just as the full force of what you did crashes into you, a strike of lightning straight to your chest.

and rather than fret, your lips split and their corners rise, and you laugh. you laugh and laugh and laugh until you collapse against beomgyu's chest. he gathers you up to his chest before you crash to the floor, holding you by your cheeks while he comprehends your wild eyes and glowing mien.

“are you alright?” he queries.

i think i may be in love with you, is what you wish could say, but you bite the words back before they escape.

instead, you ask, “come with me, please?”

he nods and allows you to pull him towards the stairs that you first entered from. mistakenly, you briefly meet eyes with yeonjun, who stands across the room with a suggestive smirk, eyebrows wiggling in your direction. though your cheeks grow warm, you continue to push forward, weaving your fingers through those of the man following close behind.

the trek to your private chambers takes far longer than expected. both of you are guilty of pulling each other into dark corners and giggling into each other's mouths at nearly every turn. the situation becomes dire once you reach the upper decks, dodging acquaintances of your mother through roundabout hallways. after what seems like hours, you reach the door of your room, swiftly unlocking it and pulling beomgyu inside.

without delay, he presses you up against the door, forearms caging you in, and crashes his lips to yours once more. gone is the nonsensical laughter and teasing touches — now all that remains is a carnal hunger, a bone-deep desperation to feel and to devour one another whole. his sly tongue sneaks into your mouth, dancing with your own before it retracts and his teeth graze your lower lip. you exhale a breathy whine, hands pawing at the rough linen of his shirt.

he pulls away to momentarily catch his breath before he blazes forward to kiss you once more. your finger pressed to his lips, however, halts his movements. questions dance in his pupils.

“take me to bed,” you whisper. 

biting your lip, you watch as the gears within his brain churn as he processes your words, how his eyes grow impossibly darker once he does. the short journey to your bed is a blur in your mind. hands tug at clothes and undergarments until you lay bare beneath his own naked torso, his trousers low on his waist, though unable to hide the aching erection that strains the fabric.

he reaches up to tweak your nipple, causing you to inhale sharply. he finds great delight in how sensitive you are, his lips ravaging your neck until he locates the weak spot just beneath your ear. he bites down lightly. a shock of bliss jolts down your spine, and you squeal his name — god, how he would give away what little money he has to his name to hear that sound every day.

the combination of his lips gliding down your neck and his thumb circling your nipple renders you speechless, merely able to moan and grip the soft sheets below you as he brings you pleasure that you have never felt before. though his calloused hands against your skin feel much rougher than those of the men that your mother forces you to mingle with, he treats you gentler than any of your desperate suitors ever could. almost as if your body is made of glass, he does not press hard enough to inflict pain, nor does he force you to your knees to take him. no man you have lied with before has treated you in such a manner, putting your needs before his own. your heart pounds at the realization. you pray that he cannot hear it.

deprived of warning, his lips and fingers disappear from your skin. you whine at the sudden confiscation of pleasure.

“why did you stop?” you pant, breathless, trying to reach up to touch him. he captures your hands and links his fingers between your own. he presses your arms back against the sheet before he lets go. 

he stares down at you for a moment, eyes trailing from your heaving chest to the swollen pout upon your lips. with a ghost of a smirk, he leans down to press a chaste peck to the corner of your mouth, his forehead now pressed against yours. eyes hooded, he breathes, “patience, beautiful. i’m gonna make you feel good, i promise.” 

“hurry, then,” you plead. you feel as if you are going insane without his touch. addictive, akin to opium; you want more, you crave it.

“ah, so demanding,” he jokes, though he gives in. he allows you no time to respond as he kisses you again, leaning over you with forearm pressed into the mattress next to your head. a hand slides down your side — drawing goosebumps to your skin — to your thigh, spreading you wider for him. you inhale sharply through your nose when you feel fingers press against your soaking center, one slim, rough-skinned finger sliding slowly past your entrance. the groan he emits rumbles against your own chest. he raises his head no more than a millimeter, shuddering at the wet heat that coats his skin as he begins to thrust the digit in and out. 

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he curses, unable to help himself. clinging to him, you bite your lip at his ministrations, nearly drawing blood when he slips a second finger in, stretching your walls. his thumb finds the aching bud just above to ease the sting.

“g-gyu,” you whimper, the sound singing in his ears like wind chimes, urging him to move faster, curl his fingers against the spongy patch inside you, watching how your face contorts beneath him. he fixates on the spot. your hips involuntarily buck up into his thrusts in response, the cord within your stomach tightening. your gaze meets his, desperate, pleading. “gyu, i need, ‘m going to—”

“let go, beautiful,” he groans, grinding his cock into the crease of your thigh for relief. “you can do it, c’mon. let go for me.”

his deep-voiced encouragement sends you over the edge, warmth flooding your veins as your thighs quake around him, nails digging into his tanned skin. your eyes screw shut.

“that’s it,” he coos as you float back down to earth. he rubs soothing circles against the skin of your cheek. “my lovely girl.” 

“want you, gyu,” you beg, stomach warm from the praise. “want you inside.” 

he freezes, eyes wide. “are...are you sure?”

“i’ve never been more sure in my life,” you say. thus, his grin returns. he moves to unbutton his trousers, and you help him, grazing the hard imprint in his underwear. he hisses at the sensation, then stands from the bed to remove his remaining clothing. your mouth dries at the sight, and you gulp. he is quite well-endowed, his cock standing tall against his soft abdomen, the tip an angry crimson, the color fading as your eyes travel down the shaft. you squirm at the thought of it being inside you, stretching your walls beyond belief, pressing into every spot within you with every roll of his hips.

he settles between your thighs once again, guiding his cock against your wet folds. your poorly-veiled apprehension is not lost on him.

“i’ll go slow,” he promises, guiding the head of his cock to your awaiting entrance. “don’t wanna hurt you...you ready?”

with a deep breath, you hum in confirmation. he murmurs out a quiet “okay,” directed more towards himself than you, and shifts his hips forward. the first press brings with it a small ache. you wince, and he slows, inquiring if you are okay. 

you nod. “go slow, please.”

“of course, love,” he whispers, distracting your mind from the pain with his lips. inch by inch, he sinks deeper into your walls, soon bottoming out deep inside of you with a strained moan. he stills to allow you to adjust. as soon as you do, you’re urging him to move. he obeys, thrusts slow-paced and tender until you beg for him to quicken them. 

“yeah?” he coos. “y’want more? you, fuck — you have all of me already, s-so greedy.”

the roll of his hips sharpens, canting upward — faster, harder, deeper. all you can think to do is moan, the thoughts ricocheting in your mind now too jumbled for you to decipher and voice. a fire has ignited in your stomach, growing hotter and brighter when swings your legs over his shoulders. the angle of his thrusts causes the head of his cock to brush against a spot deep inside you, a place that has never been explored prior. a sound that is foreign to your ears tears itself from your chest, loud and unabashed.

above you, beomgyu groans. his head is thrown back, mouth agape, his hair a tousled mess atop his head. a few strands stick to his sweat-drenched forehead. a flush has traveled down and stained his chest, his abdomen flexing in exertion as he loses himself completely. his head drops down again, his eyes meeting yours, half-lidded and brimming with heady lust. you attempt to hide your face in the sheets, growing shy at the intensity of it all, but he reaches down to grip your chin, holding your gaze steady.

“watch me,” he orders. in a daze, you obey, glassy eyes barely able to comprehend the bombardment to your senses. his free hand locates your slick clit, rubbing quick circles, breath shaky as your walls flutter and tighten around him. “so good. so good for me, beautiful. no one can make you feel as good as i do, hm?”

“o-only you!” you manage to agree through your cries. he slips his thumb past your lips, and you immediately begin to suck on the digit.

“so pretty, such a good girl,” he mumbles out, half delirious. “will never get enough of you.” 

your high slams into you in a flash, your entire body quivering around him. beomgyu rapidly pulls out, ropes of his release spilling across your abdomen as he jerks himself, gasping at how your empty hole flutters around nothing. your legs drop from his shoulders, as weak as a newborn fawn's. he collapses next to you, mopping up his release with the handkerchief sitting upon your nightstand, before he pulls you to his chest, holding you like you are about to disappear into the air. he cups your cheek gently, kissing you slowly, savoring every second. when you pull away, there lies an urgency in his expression.

“run away with me,” he whispers, searching your face for something, anything. “once this ship docks in new york, run away with me.”

your chest tightens. he feels the same — oh, he feels the same. you battle back the tears beginning to form on your waterline and hold him close, reaching up to envelop the hands on your cheeks with your own and kissing him breathless.

your forehead presses to his as you respond, a watery smile painting your lips, “where would we go?”

“anywhere you’d like,” he breathes. tears form in his own eyes — hope, unbridled joy. “just say the word.”

your blooming love is not star-crossed, but auspicious, you realize while standing on the deck of the carpathia.

you had been separated from beomgyu in the sinking of the titanic that night, in the frantic crowds shoving towards the life boats and the gunshots ringing out to maintain a semblance of order. your mother had found and pushed you onto one, lowered into the sea before you were able to leap out, to search for him. you sobbed into your palms the entire night, unknowing whether he survived the sinking or not.

but now, he is across the deck before you, alive. his clothes and hair are drenched in seawater, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders — but he's alive, so very alive. he has not spotted you, his eyes pointed out to the sea where the so-called "unsinkable" ship met its watery grave. your hands begin to shake. warm, breathing, alive.

you croak out his name, tearing away from your mother in order to sprint over to him, ignoring the weakness of your limbs and the frantic protests from your mother behind you. your calls of his name amplify in volume. he spins around, and his face melts into disbelief. he races across the remaining distance between you, feet thumping against the wooden deck. arms wrap around you as the two of you meet — two souls colliding, winding and weaving around each other like threads on a loom. tears are not lost upon either of you, streaming down both of your faces as you hold each other, skin against skin as you ensure this is not a dream, or mirage.

“i love you,” you sob. “i can’t, i didn’t know if—”

he shushes you, tucking your face into his chest. “i know, love. i know. i love you, too. we’re here now, we’re together. alive.”

you choke back a whimper, crying until you can no longer. as you shift back to look at him, you find that he's smiling. a thought hits you suddenly.

“where is yeonjun? taehyun?” you ask. he squeezes you once, pointing somewhere across the deck. following his finger, you find them: beaten down, weary, but breathing. you have never been a particularly religious person, but you think that something must be watching from above, providing you such unfair luck. they wave. you wave right back.

“we floated on top of furniture until a rescue boat found us,” he explains. “we were lucky. i was half dead when we were found.”

the thought punctures your chest, but he doesn’t let your thoughts run astray for long. “it’s okay, love. you couldn’t have done anything.”

“i know, but—”

“but nothing.” a gentle smile plays on his lips. “we’re here now, aren’t we?”

“yes,” you say, your expression reflecting his. “shall we still plan to flee?”

he grins something tired yet enthusiastic. “of course, beautiful. there's no one else i'd like to see the world with more than you.”

3k event masterlist | masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[imtrashraccoon]

He's here, he's here, he's here!!! I love this pretentious guy so much! This chapter is certainly a different one though...

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Nightmare - Sunset

Word Count: 2,296

You opened your eyes to find yourself laying in a field underneath a cloudless sky. Sitting up, you looked around and discovered the field seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see.

The grass was a blueish colour and rather soft to the touch but it was completely unlike anything you'd seen before. Some of the plants had small white flowers that kind of reminded you of cotton, otherwise it was just straight grass all around. Every now and then a warm gust of breeze would cause the grass to move in a wave like pattern and tease your own hair.

The sky was a shade of brilliant gold and you soon spotted the sun, that was just about to dip below the horizon. It felt comforting and you closed your eyes for a moment to just bask in the last of its warm rays.

A few birds darted across the sky overhead and your eyes followed them until they disappeared over the horizon. They looked like red wing blackbirds and you noticed there seemed to be both males and females flying together. Somewhere off in the distance, you heard an unknown animal make a yipping sound like they were play fighting with a sibling.

You stood up and looked around a bit more. It appeared that the terrain wasn't completely flat and while the grass seemed to only be about a foot tall, you could see places where it appeared to be taller. Most of the white flowers seemed to be taller than the blades of grass as well.

It was very peaceful here...wherever here was...

You couldn't help but feel a bit unnerved at how quiet it was. Were you even on Earth anymore? You didn't know of anywhere that looked like this but you hadn't been everywhere in the world yet.

"Hello human."

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end from the sound of the deep, almost velvety voice. They sounded calm at the moment and yet there was a layer of danger in their tone.

You slowly turned around to face the mysterious voice.

It was another skeleton but he didn't look at all like the others you'd met. While the boys were pretty similar to human skeletons, this guy's bones appeared to be either completely black or covered in a substance similar to what often seeped from Killer's eye sockets. He only appeared to have one cyan eyelight in his left socket while his right one was obscured by that inky substance. You didn't know if he was blind in that socket or not, and you weren't about to ask either. The most striking thing about him though, was the four black tentacles that protruded from his back.

He was dressed differently from your friends as well. Instead of a blue hoodie and shorts, he wore a rather fancy looking dark overcoat, a gold circlet with a black moon adorned his skull, and he had gold rings on his phalanges, which ended in claws.

He seemed to radiate a sort of intimidating aura and just by looking at him, you felt a wave of dread pass through you. His good eye socket was narrowed and he had a bit of a tight smile across his face. Unfortunately, you couldn't tell if he was upset or not right now.

You clenched your fists at your sides and took a deep breath to steady your nerves. At least you weren't at knife point or being pinned down, although you couldn't be sure how long that would last.

"Am I wrong to assume that you're Nightmare?" you asked.

His grin grew wider into more of a smirk. "Indeed. I see my reputation has proceeded me."

Some more blackbirds flew overhead and he glanced up at them in a thoughtful way. He folded his arms behind his back and if you didn't already know he was a god, you definitely knew now from the way he was holding himself. His tentacles slowly undulated in a restless sort of way and you found yourself wondering if he was doing that on purpose or if the tentacles had a mind of their own.

"I'll get straight to the point," he said.

You nodded and fiddled with your fingernails nervously. "I'd appreciate it... At this point, I've nearly been decapitated, pinned against walls, and threatened at knife point. So unless you're going to do something else, I've seen it all."

"So I've heard..."

You didn't like how casual he was being about this situation. The others had all threatened your life on multiple occasions and yet here he was acting all casual like you were an acquaintance. It made you feel like a pit had formed in your gut.

Nightmare took a few slow steps towards you and tilted his skull in a thoughtful way. Interestingly, he appeared to be between Dust and Killer in matters of height, yet he was still a couple inches taller than you were. His tentacles also added a few extra inches to his height but you didn't count them.

"I've known about you from the very beginning, long before you ever knew about any of my other henchmen."

You swallowed thickly but continued to stand your ground. "So then why didn't you do anything?" you asked in a small voice.

"Because, I wanted to see how things would play out. Now that all three of my boys have come to a consensus about you, I had to come meet you in person..."

He chuckled and motioned to the surrounding field before adding, "Well, not exactly in person. This is actually a dream I specifically crafted for you."

"Huh." You looked around at the grass before looking back at the sunset again. "That explains why the sun hasn't moved a bit since I woke up at least."

Turning back to Nightmare, you smiled slightly. "This is a really pretty place though. You do good work."

He seemed rather pleased by your compliment if the way he slightly puffed out his chest a bit more was any indication. He cleared his non-existent throat and his expression returned to a more neutral one moments later.

"I didn't just bring you here to show off," he said in a more serious voice. "There is something important that you need to know..."

"I didn't think so..." You sighed and crossed your arms. "So lay it on me. What's the real issue?"

He took a few steps closer until your bodies were practically touching and he could leer over you in an admittedly intimidating way. He stood there in silence for several long seconds studying you.

"You were never meant to meet any of them. You are what some would call a side character in another's story. You exist to be a cog in the machine that drives your world forward and nothing more."

His single cyan pinprick seemed to stare into the very depths of your soul as he paused to let this revelation sink in. "Despite this, you have proven to be...exceptional, even among humans. I am frankly impressed that you managed to befriend my henchmen, despite everything they put you through."

"I think I've shaved several years off my life just dealing with Killer alone..." you muttered under your breath.

Nightmare chuckled quietly and gave you a knowing look. "There is one problem though," he continued. "Their constant coming and going the way they have been has caused extensive damage to the code that makes up this world. It has gotten to the point where it could collapse in on itself without warning."

"What?"

"Just that, not even I could do anything to fix things." He paused for a moment and studied you while you tried to process it all.

"You've gotta be kidding..." you started to say although you trailed off when he shook his skull.

"I have no reason to lie to you, human. If I didn't tell you now, you wouldn't have any idea until it's too late."

You sighed and glanced around helplessly. "Why are you telling me this?" you finally asked. "What do you get out of telling me something so awful?"

He chuckled softly, the sound of which sent chills down your spine. "I love it when people can tell I want something from them," he hummed. "I'm telling you because I would like to offer you a deal."

You crossed your arms. "There it is...what do you want from me?"

His permanent grin widened. "You have two options, human. Either you can stay in this world with everyone you've ever known until it inevitably collapses or...you can join me and break free from the limits of your own code."

You couldn't help but stare at him. The way he'd phrased it sounded so simple and yet you were immediately suspicious. You hadn't exactly heard any nice things about him, so why was he acting so...nice?

"Wow..." you finally managed to say. "So let me get this straight, you show up and tell me my world is doomed. Then, you conveniently tell me you know how to make everything better. Yeah, no, what's the catch?"

"Let's just say that there's something about you that I find interesting. I know the benefits of making fair deals and I always, always keep my word." He subtly rubbed his phalanges on his coat and glanced down at his claws.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. If he really was telling the truth, you had an idea of what might have grabbed his attention about you. He seemed like a brick wall though and you couldn't tell if he was lying or not. You couldn't even sense any emotions from him either, save for that intense aura.

"I don't trust you..." you murmured.

He tilted his skull and smiled at you. "It's your decision at the end of the day. So, I'll give you some time to think about it, however..." His tone turned icy and his smile widened considerably before he added in a lower voice, "I only have so much patience, human..."

Two of his tentacles began to slowly snake around your back as he spoke. You tried to pull away but his grip was firm and you couldn't budge. You shuddered and had to look away from him, the sight of which only seemed to make him pleased.

"I will continue to visit you in your dreams until you come to a decision. Although, I'm afraid with the state of your world's code, I won't be letting my henchmen keep making these trips to see you for their safety. You understand I'm sure..."

You hated how he was appealing to your sense of reason. You'd probably do the same in his shoes to protect your friends, granted, he was their boss and not their friend. At least he wasn't making you choose right now...

He released you and stepped away, folding his arms behind his back again. "I'm confident you'll make the correct decision," he said with a tone that sounded like he was just about finished here.

Your eyes widened and without really thinking, you reached out and grabbed his shoulder. "Wait! Don't go yet..."

You felt his body stiffen slightly and he glanced at your hand before his gaze flicked to you. He stayed quiet but there was an unamused look in his cyan eyelight. You'd better not say something stupid and risk making him upset right now...

"I can see that you care about your boys, in your own way at least, but how is this fair to them? Do they even know what you've just told me?" you asked.

He narrowed his eye socket but didn't pull away from you. "I elected to meet with you first, but I have every intention to tell them as soon as I take my leave. I am certain they won't like it any more than you do."

You were grasping at straws here but your mind was desperate for answers that may not even exist. He wanted you for your Intent, right? Apparently, you were different from other humans and he thought it was enough to offer a deal that would potentially save your life.

"What happens if I accept your deal?"

Nightmare chuckled and one of his tentacles curled around your wrist, so you couldn't let go of him now even if you wanted to. "Now that's a curious question, hm? It all depends on you though. No doubt you know what I do and what my henchmen do for me. What happens if you accept, depends on what you can bring to the table..."

That was a non-answer if you ever heard one. You opened your mouth to retort when he reached over and actually patted you on your head.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to actually empathize with me like you have the others. Though it is amusing to watch you try," he nearly purred in a tone that sounded a bit condescending. "It sort of comes with the mantle of being a god among mortals I'm afraid."

You narrowed your eyes at him and had to bite your tongue. The last thing you wanted to do right now was offend him. At least you were capable of restraining yourself compared to certain people.

He let go of you and flashed a smile that was anything but reassuring. "I will see you soon, human..."

The next thing you knew, you were in your own bed and no longer in that field. The gravity of what you'd learned was weighing down your mind but you were too tired to make an actual decision right now. There was something else on your mind though.

You were determined to befriend him.

[boguspearl]

So after finding out just how behind i really am i decided to finally get around to watching the Miraculous awakening movie, and i must admit that when i first watched the trailer a while back i was immediately completely against it, i mean i hated the new animation designs it looked clunky and out of place and then when i realized it was just a retelling of the story i was furious i was certain they would ruin the entire thing.

Boy was i wrong, the animation while at first glance horrible and shoddy stands out and is perfect for miraculous, while in certain points it looks a bit odd but in others the animation is absolutely gorgeous,

making miraculous look even better than it already did, giving it a flair of beauty that it greatly deserves.

The story line while it doesn't hold a flame in comparison to the original show is still incredible in it's own right, the points where they changed story to fit is actually really good like for instance i love that they focused more on Adrien and Gabriel's grief because I think that's something that was always lacking in the series, i mean sure we saw Adrien grieve but it was in small moments where as the movie made it a major focus point, showing how two people who are so close to each other who have lost the same person can grieve in such different ways

One who's lost his anchor and is desperate for someone to connect with, because it feels like he has no one left in his life to lean on.

And the other who closes himself off believing that he is the only one who has suffered this loss, not seeing that he is in fact further hurting those around him in doing so.

But more than that I love the small tweaks we got to the story like the first meeting between Marinette and Adrien

Sure it's no umbrella scene but personally i kinda like this one as well, it's cute and kinda wholesome, and way better than a one episode enemies to friends trope, here we get to see a meeting between two people no outside parties just them two people trying to escape everyone else to be alone only to run into each other in what id quite possibly the cutest way ever, well I think its great anyway.

But they even changed up the ladybug and chat Noir meeting,

from what i remember chat comes off as trying to look cool, but coming off as some kind of player who doesn't take anything seriously and is always hitting on everyone, but here they made him try and look cool but instead some across as pretentious and arrogant and i kinda like this better, i mean im sure it was what they were always going for even back in episode 1 but I don't feel like that came across but here it definitely does and this just makes it better, it gives ladybug a better reason to not like him, and builds an even better foundation for the relationship they end up building as they see through each other's facades to uncover the people underneath

But not only that there's also Hawk-moth choosing to find his Akuma victims in a prison instead of waiting patiently for someone to get upset about the silliest thing

Okay let's face it while this is brilliant for the movie, it wouldn't exactly have lasted long in the series, but still it's brilliant.

But I think one of my favorite changes in the movie from the series has to he Marinette herself, i mean sure we get our lovable klutz of an MC at the beginning but as ladybug grows so does Marinette, sure we see this in the series as well in small ways like her standing up for her friends and to Chloe, but i don't think we got to properly see it, but in the movie we get to see how a little confidence can go a long way,

Like her finally just plain and simply giving Adrien a gift and asking him out, I mean sure we didn't get the over thinking Marrinette from the show but we did however get a shy, anxiety driven Marrinette

Like we get to see her practically imagining people making fun of her, when from our perspective they are mostly friendly, i like this because this is the side to anxiety a lot of shows and movies get wrong it's not just overthinking every decision because you fear the fallout it can even lead to overthinking what people are thinking of you to the point that you imagine them mocking you or you become so scared of making a fool of yourself in front of them that you close yourself off, but the movie shows us an in depth version of how ladybug changed Marrinette's life giving her the confidence to do things her nerves got in the way of before.

but my favorite change will have to be the reveal it was so absolutely stunning, from the lighting to the scenery to her calling out to him and him expecting ladybug, please for the love of ZAG i need to see the real reveal be this incredible

[msmargaretmurry]

hi i’m sorry super random question — i love your writing, and i was wondering if you had any fav books to recommend? i’m trying to read more lately!! thank you so much!!! 💖

no apologies necessary and thank you so much!! yay for reading more! i have so many books i love and usually i would try to tailor recommendations to someone's interests so i will just try to give a little smorgasbord here.

under the cut please find a very long list of recs; i hope there are a few that sound appealing to you! if there are things you like to have content warnings for and can't tell from the goodreads listing, feel free to message me to ask! 💕

literary/contemporary fiction

beartown by fredrik backman: this is the hockey novel, imo. somehow backman captures everything hockey is — violence, entitlement, racism, privilege, misogyny — while still writing a breathtaking story about people who love the sport and people who unwillingly get caught up in its wake. there are two sequels, which i haven't read yet solely because i'm afraid of how many feelings they'll make me feel.

the secret history by donna tartt: yes, the og dark academia book. moody, atmospheric, and pretentious, i feel like it's a you-love-it-or-hate-it, and i love it. a delicious critique of elitist academia even while filled with morsels for classics-loving nerds. fantastic, deeply fucked-up characters.

station eleven by emily st john mandell: not sure if reading this during a pandemic was the best idea, but it certainly added something to the experience. i love emily st john mandell's prose, and the post-pandemic-apocalypse world she builds feels simultaneously fantastical and painfully real.

evvie drake starts over by linda holmes: this is the perfect example of what i want in a contemporary romance novel. deeply character-driven, sweet, achy, lovely.

historical fiction

in memoriam by alice winn: oh man oh man. we read this one for book club last month and it blew me away. brutal, devastating, romantic.

how much of these hills is gold by c pam zhang: really loved how this book brought a new lens to the American western/frontier story, loved how it blended Chinese mythology into the story, loved how it unflinchingly did race and gender in ways that felt both illuminating and historically true.

the island of sea women by lisa see: i love lisa see's historical fiction because she does a shitload of research and weaves it into her stories in ways that don't feel like infodumping. on top of her being an excellent writer, i always feel like i've learned something.

the book thief by markus zusak: just a masterclass in point of view. made me ugly cry in public.

the nickel boys by colson whitehead: i mean, colson whitehead is just so good. harrowing, atmospheric, and smart, the characters and story feel absolutely real in the best and worst ways.

fantasy/sci-fi

the radiant emperor duology by shelley parker-chan: man, this duology is one of the best fucking things i've read in the past few years. kind of an alternate-history 14th-century china, now with more magic and more gender. brutal and delicious. morally gray everything.

the farseer trilogy and the liveship traders trilogy by robin hobb: these were my favorite books as a teen and i've recently been rereading them (i'm finally on the third book of the second trilogy!) and having such a good time. structurally they're very classic high fantasy but i think hobb is so fucking good at worldbuilding and characters.

the left hand of darkness by ursula k. leguin: look, it's a classic for a reason! i will say if you start it and you feel kind of lost: stick with it, slow down, and be patient. the pov character is a stranger in a strange land and you feel every bit of that. another masterclass in point of view.

tuyo by rachel neumeier: i love reccing this book because it's just a random self-published fantasy novel that one of the gals in my book club found somehow and it wound up being super fun? the worldbuilding is fun, the culture clash is tense (and fun), and i feel like the concept of a "tuyo" could do numbers as a fanfic trope if people got on board!

the thief by megan whalen turner: another great book for pov!!! just a really fun and satisfying read (and pretty short, if you need something short!). the rest of the series is also very good and worth reading but none of it hit quite as hard for me as this first book, possibly because the first book is just so excellent.

young adult/middle grade

on the come up by angie thomas: this is specifically an audiobook rec. i'm sure this book is also good reading with your eyes, but it's about a teen girl who wants to be a rapper, and i think being able to hear the rhythm of the language, esp the rapping itself, makes for a fantastic audiobook experience.

the westing game by ellen raskin: another classic for a reason!! one of the smartest books out there, a joy to read for the first time at any age.

michigan vs the boys by carrie s. allen: the thing is, i usually i find first person present tense so annoying it's nigh unreadable, but i found this book about a teen girl having to play on her high school's boys' hockey team after they cut funding to the girls' program so charming and compulsively readable. bonus points that the author really knows her hockey!

darius the great is not okay by adib khorram: even just thinking about this book puts a lump in my throat lmao. just a beautiful coming of age story that deals with identity and depression and belonging and family and more.

the loneliest girl in the universe by lauren james: pretty sure i tore through this book in one sitting. great sci-fi setting and sense of creeping dread.

a wrinkle in time by madeleine l'engle: another classic for a reason, lol. including it on this list because it is actually my favorite book. l'engle has such a special touch with writing — it's so full of heart. as a kid one of the things i loved about this book was that it didn't dumb any of its sophisticated worldbuilding and characterization down for me, which i think is a great lesson for a writer.

memoir-ish

they can't kill us until they kills us by hanif abdurraqib: hanif is the GOAT and i recommend anything he's written, but this book of essays about music, culture, and hanif's life is easily my favorite of his work.

a ghost in the throat by doireann ní ghríofa: stunningly original mix of personal essay, poetry, history — i'm not even sure how to describe it. but it floored me.

in the dream house by carmen maria machado: speaking of creeping dread!!! many people have said many smart things about how good this book is so i will simply say they are all extremely correct.

sports nonfiction

the boys in the boat by daniel james brown: a gorgeously written love letter to rowing juxtaposed hauntingly against the rise of hitler. i have not seen the movie, but there's no way it could be as good as the book.

bottom of the 33rd by dan barry: possibly this is a baseball book for baseball people, but i loved every meandering moment of this lovingly written microhistory of the longest baseball game ever played.

the last best league by jim collins: another baseball book, sorry, baseball books are so good. this one's about the amateur league on cape cod where the best college players play in the summer. a great august read imo.

impossible owls: essays by brian phillips: a sprawling book of sportswriting from a former grantland writer. i read it five years ago and still think about it sometimes

other nonfiction

forget the alamo by bryan burrough, chris tomlinson, & jason standford: i made myself pick only ONE history nonfiction for this list because otherwise we'd be here all day. but this one is so good, especially if you're interested in the making and unmaking of american mythology.

empire of pain by patrick radden keefe: i do actually recommend anything prk writes, but this book on the sacklers' evil pharmaceutical empire is both timely and exhaustively reported. another audiobook rec as well, because prk reads it himself and you can hear the disdain in his voice.

because internet: understanding the new rules of language by gretchen mcculloch: really fun read about the development of online dialect and language! at five entire years old it's already a smidge out of date, but still so enjoyable.

[alltheyoungmoons]

Record Shopping

@wolfstarmicrofic | 997 words | Rated T | ATYD Timeline Compliant | CW mention of war (nothing major)

Unintentionally wrote this on a whim yesterday and realised it fit the last two July prompts "Missing Scene" and "Fluff". Wrote this to slot into the 1979/1980s chapters of ATYD and I reference a couple of things from this other incredible short fic by @snailwriter. Song referenced is this.

March 1980 started and ended with a full moon. Remus tried to see the irony of being welcomed into his twenties by a Blue Moon. If that wasn’t an omen of things to come… but then again, he had opted out of taking Divination. 

It had been a gruelling start to the year, but with the news of “Baby Prongs” on the way and the fact that Remus had been relegated to minor duties, he and Sirius had spent more time together without fighting than ever since the beginning of the war.

Remus’ birthday fell on a Monday, so Sirius insisted on going out to celebrate that Sunday, just the two of them. They ended up record shopping in Kensington, pressed shoulder to shoulder while sifting through crates of records in companionable silence. Sirius was often quiet these days.

 He was busy inspecting a copy of Pink Floyd’s The Wall when Sirius called out for him from the new releases section, waving a dark-covered record as to beckon him and grinning like a madman. He snaked his way across the displays, his eyes never leaving him, relishing in how alive he looked, a glint of the incandescent kid he’d once been illuminating his silvery irises.

“What do we have here” Remus mused when Sirius held the vinyl in front of his chest to show off the cover. It was a picture of the band - three men glancing directly at the camera with various expressions and a woman with a mane of ginger curls on her profile. Remus thought that they all sorta looked like they belonged in Slytherin, but didn’t mention it, as not to upset Sirius and as to pretend, even if just for a couple of hours, that they weren’t themselves, that they didn’t know anything about wars and dead relatives and they were just two normal, dumb twenty-somethings in love. Of course this all but lasted five seconds before Sirius, still grinning with his gaze fixed on Remus, flipped the record on the back and pointed to the fourth track with his slender index finger.

Remus had to read the short sentence three times.

“Are you fucking for real?”

“Moony, it’s perfect!”

Remus was stunned. He knew Muggles had some knowledge of magical creatures, from their shared heritage that they shrug off as “folk tales”, but he hadn’t lived between Muggles for so long that it was shocking to see such evidence in the wild, so to speak.

“You better like it because this is your birthday gift.”

“I already chose my three records, actually”

“Well lucky you I’m feeling generous, so I’m getting you a fourth. Even if they do kinda look like pretentious prats, don’t you think?”

“You’re one to talk” Remus scoffed

“Moony, don’t start calling me names now, or we won't be able to make it back to bed in time.”

Remus went to pick up the copy of The Wall he’d left behind, plus the latest single by Blondie and London Calling, which had come out a few months before. Sirius slipped him some cash and he paid, as the other boy was -still- not very acquainted with muggle currency.

They got home and had takeout from Huang’s, who was kind enough to gift them a couple of beers when he found out it was about to be Remus’ birthday. They sat in the living room, evening into night, listening to music, and as midnight quickly approached, Sirius put on the record he insisted on buying, with that stupid song. It wasn't bad, though a bit to rockabilly for Remus' taste. As the grandfather clock in Flat 7 chimed twelve times, the stereo started thumping a steady rhythm accompanied by strumming chords that sliced through the silence, immediately captivating. After a few riffs, a low voice started drawling out

I was a teenage werewolf Braces on my fangs I was a teenage werewolf And no one even said thanks And no one made me stop!

The two boys froze, exchanging a glance. It was Remus who broke first, melting into a fit of hysterics.

“It’s so stupid!”

“I know! It’s brilliant!” Sirius was wiping his eyes. How long had it been since they were happy tears?

I had a teen-land mind I had to blow my top And under teen full moon No one could make me stop! No one could make me stop!

Sirius slipped from the sofa to snuggle up to Remus, who had lain on the floor catching his breath. He kissed the tip of his nose, gently.

“Happy Birthday, Moons.”

A teenage werewolf Parallel bars A teenage girlfriend Got a lot of scars Somebody please make me stop Ohhh please…

“Would you have fancied me if I had braces on my fangs?” Remus mused jokingly.

Sirius answered with a gravity like his honour depended on it “What kind of- yes? I would’ve probably been gone even more. I like the nerd thing, if you haven’t noticed.”

You know, I have puberty rights And I have puberty wrongs No one understood me All my teeth were so long And no one made me stop!

“You can officially say you were a teenage werewolf, now”

“Yeah, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt”

Sirius slapped his arm.

“Oi!”

“What I mean is - we’re not teenagers anymore.”

“Haven’t you had a few months to adjust to the idea already?”

“Calling me old?”

“Never in a derogatory way, my love - I haven’t felt younger than sixty since I was thirteen.”

Sirius went quiet, clouding over. How much of their teenagehood had been lost to the war already? His brother would never live to see his twenties. Their futures, this new decade, were unfolding in front of them, ripe with potential and terrifying like the concrete mystery of a black hole. For now, though, Remus was content with lying on the carpet, his lover in his arms, listening to some weird Muggle band making light of his life’s curse.

[arminsumi]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 📖 ꒱ BOOKSTORE BOY

Armin x fem!reader

Chapter index / Chapter Ⅳ

Overview; it's been some time since you visited the bookstore and Armin has been missing you a lot. But you appear just when the lonely blue-eyed boy is closing up shop for the day. His grandfather has invites you back to their house in the countryside for dinner.

Content; fluff, angst, kissing

TAGLIST; @sad-darksoul

DM in my askbox to be added to taglists! 💕

Armin melancholically lowered his chin onto the cash register and let out a deflating sigh. His grandfather gave him a sympathetic look.

"She hasn't been around in a while." Armin muttered.

He looked blankly at the display books in the window; they were all crammed together. There was an unmoved cart full of books standing nearby, which he hadn't had the energy or motivation to shelve away.

"She'll come around again." His grandfather assured.

"But it's been weeks..." Armin replied glumly.

There was a silence.

Armin sighed again and rubbed the side of his face with his hand. "It feels so quiet." He commented. It was clear in his voice how much he missed you.

"Chin up." His grandfather said.

Armin halfheartedly pulled himself together.

The working day had come to an end again and you hadn't been there. Armin assured his grandfather that he could close up shop himself, so he let him be and went to get groceries for dinner. Umi the cat comfortably napped in the basket that he carried.

While glumly locking the front door and rolling down the shutter, he heard someone shouting for him.

"Wait! Armin!" You called out, running towards the store.

Armin's heart leaped at the sight of you.

"H-hey!" He stuttered out in surprise.

When you reached him, you panted to catch your breath, "I-I guess I'm a little late... I forgot you closed at five."

After hearing your voice and seeing your smiling face again, it felt like not much time had passed at all since your last meeting.

"Oh... well, since you're here." Armin mumbled softly. He rolled up the shutter again and unlocked the door to the bookstore. "But we best keep the lights off, or everyone will think we're still open."

"Okay!" You beamed happily at him.

So the two of you found yourselves alone together in the bookstore, browsing the aisles in the waning sunset light. Though, admittedly, neither of you were really paying attention to the books; you were too busy catching up on each other's lives.

You explained that your schedule had gotten wildly busy. Armin felt a bit silly, because he'd been overthinking, and came to the conclusion that maybe he said something to drive you away.

It's so nice to hear his voice again, you thought. And he was thinking the same thing.

"Ah, I missed you." You laughed after he made an awful pun about something.

He stuttered, unsure how to respond, "I did as well." He managed to say, but barely.

In the back of Armin's mind, he was trying so hard to challenge his nervousness. He had so much to say. Sometimes he'd lay awake in bed, imagining the conversations that he wanted to have with you.

"I'm not good at speaking..." He admitted. It seemed random to you, but it was currently burdening his mind. "But there's a lot that I want to talk about with you."

You looked at him understandingly. "Hm... maybe we should write to each other! I've been sending letters to my friends lately, but they think it's pretentious." You laughed.

It lowered your spirits remembering that. You were so excited to send old-fashioned letters to your friends as a surprise, but only one of them was vaguely amused by the endeavor. The rest were indifferent, or called you pretentious.

"I'd say any friend who calls you that isn't a friend at all." Armin said honestly. "Personally, I think the idea is really sweet. I'd love to receive a letter from y- from a friend."

You felt your eyes light up. He may have thought he was bad with his words, but every time you talked with him you felt your spirits rise.

"Well, actually, now that you mention it..." You began shyly. "I did write a letter for you. I've been meaning to give it to you for weeks, but everything seems to be getting in my way. It's so annoying!" You complained.

Armin smiled and intently listened to you complain about your schedule and how everything seems to go wrong even when you're careful. You dug around in your bag and pulled out the letter.

"Wow, a wax seal and all? That's really pretty... where did you come by one of those?" Armin analyzed the letter's seal, admiring the pattern.

You shrugged, "I found it in my grandmother's attic. She had a whole writing kit, with a special fountain pen, but I don't know how to use one of those... so I just wrote with a ballpoint pen."

Armin laughed, "I like that. A fancy letter written in ballpoint pen." He said.

It was almost completely dark in the bookstore, except for Armin's phone torch, which he propped on the books to provide a small area of light.

"I know how to use a fountain pen..." Armin mentioned after a short silence. "I could teach you."

"Oh really! Then, we could write real old-fashioned letters – pretty ones – to each other..." You responded excitedly.

"I'd love that." He admitted, and then added with a half-laugh, "Actually, you know, sometimes I want to throw my phone into a lake."

"Me as well. I don't like receiving phone calls, or text messages. When I tried to write text messages more eloquently, then I got slapped with one of those 'you're pretentious' comments." You said.

"Was it the same person who called you pretentious for the letters?" He asked.

You nodded, "Yeah. I'm not sure why I still talk to him, I guess it's just because we've known each other for so long."

Armin felt a small pang of jealousy in his chest.

"Well, personally, I'm just bad at texting. And writing, too, for that matter. I don't think I have a single poem that I'm proud of." Armin continued, steering the conversation away from the topic of whoever this mystery man was.

"You write poetry!" You gasped, "And you never told me!"

"I'm not good at it..." He nervously ran his fingertips over the back of his neck.

In the middle of your conversation, the doorbell chimed.

Armin's grandfather appeared at the entrance with one hand carrying a basket filled with market vegetables and the other carrying a familiar Russian Blue cat.

At first, he confusedly asked why the store wasn't closed up.

But when he saw you and Armin standing in an aisle, he raised his head in understanding. "Oh, I see." he said, "Well, Armin, at this rate, it would be kind to invite the young Miss back home for a warm meal. It's getting late and cold."

"Oh! Um, sorry! Yeah... um..." Armin stuttered.

It felt like after the atmosphere between you and him was disturbed, that Armin's ability to speak significantly decreased. Like a river's flow turning turbulent after having been laminar.

"...Would you like to?" Armin asked, turning to face you.

How could you refuse the idea of coming home for a warm meal with a sweet boy and his grandfather?

"I'd love to, as long as you both don't mind having me." You responded kindly. Armin felt the tone of your voice shift since you were no longer comfortably alone with him.

"Of course not. Let's get going then." Armin's grandfather said, and you three headed out the store together.

⁕⁕⁕

The night finally took over the sky. Street lamps lit up, their globe of light appearing fuzzy and soft. You and Armin followed his grandfather like he was the leader.

Even though he said it was alright for you to call him Harry, you anyways called him Sir Arlert out of respect.

It was a long walk to their house. They lived quite far out of town, it almost felt like you were in the countryside, but not quite. Sir Arlert explained to you that this was the 'old people area'; all the veterans who dedicated their hearts in the war were serenely snuggled up in these well-built homes.

"You can't pry these homes from them. They'll never give 'em up." His grandfather chuckled. It amused you how some elderly people speak of other elderly people, as if they are not all the same age.

"To be fair, I wouldn't give up these homes either. They remind me of English cottages." You said.

Armin was being silent, keeping his hands shyly tucked behind his back as the three of you walked on the dirt road.

"But it isn't nice," Sir Arlert spoke, "Because for young people like Armin, who live with geezers like me, there are no people his age in the area; just more old geezers. It gets lonely for young men."

You tilted your head in thought. "I guess that's true."

"I don't mind it." Armin said, blushing.

His grandfather quickly responded, "Ah but you were moping about being lonely and sick of seeing the same faces until Y/n walked into the bookstore one day!" He said.

Armin blushed violently. He felt the heat searing from the top of his cheeks to the bottom of his jaw.

"Really!" You laughed.

You finally arrived at their home. It was old. And just like the books in their bookstore, it was falling apart. But inside, it was as homely and inviting as browned pages.

While Armin hopped around like a nervous bunny to prepare the kitchen for cooking, his grandfather calmly lit the fireplace and set the table at a snail's pace.

You helped Sir Arlert where you could, and went to light up some candles and gas lamps. It felt like you were in another era, it was wonderfully cozy and quiet, not like in the city where you used to live like an ant in a colony.

The fireplace crackled very quietly.

Armin's nimble hands peeled potatoes and carrots. He began chopping them up for the stew, and then you came to stand by the kitchen's archway.

"Need a helping hand?" You asked him.

His voice nearly got caught in his throat. "No, I've got it – OW! Fuck!" He yelped as he cut his finger.

"Are you alright!" You cried, and quickly rushed over to him.

"Yeah, I'm good." He stuttered.

"Aw, your finger is bleeding! Let's go to the bathroom to fix it up." You said, hastily wrapping a cloth around Armin's finger.

⁕⁕⁕

He felt conflicted; his finger hurt, but at the same time, if he hadn't accidentally sliced it, then you and him wouldn't end up alone together in the bathroom upstairs.

The bare lightbulb flickered above. The candle by the window made up for its lackluster illumination.

"Sorry." Armin apologized softly.

"For what?" You tilted your head.

"For being a bit much." He said.

"I don't know what you mean, Armin."

He was trying to string a sentence together, he was on the verge of saying the first word, but then you smiled and interrupted him.

"It's alright, Armin. You don't have to speak a word, I know." You said understandingly, gently cleaning his wound with a cotton swab soaked in alcohol.

He nodded. "I-I'm usually not this bad at speaking..." He said shamefully. "It's just nerves."

"Do I make you nervous?" You asked.

He raised his face at you. His eyes were full of light despite being in a dim room.

"A little bit." He smiled lopsidedly, looking away the second you made eye contact.

"Sorry..." You say quietly.

"Not in a bad way, though." He assured.

You pursed your lips to keep from smiling. Armin did the same.

After nursing his finger, the two of you headed downstairs to continue cooking with his grandfather, and then joined together for a warm, homely meal.

Umi was in her own cat world, except for when you and Armin began washing the dishes; then she decided she wanted to sit in the dish rack.

"It's very cold," Armin's grandfather commented, "And there's a slight drizzle. If you want to stay for the night, Armin's room has plenty space. I'll get the blankets." He said.

Armin's heart panged in his chest. His sleeves were rolled up, and he had soap suds going up to his forearm.

"Oh, I don't want to be a burden... I'm sure I can make it home before the rain gets heavier." You said.

It seemed that the gods were trying very hard to keep you and Armin together tonight, because almost two minutes after you said that, a heavy thunderstorm broke out.

Rain cascaded down the roof's eaves.

Armin's grandfather went into the hallway to take out the blankets that were stowed away into a cupboard.

After washing up, he gave Armin these blankets, and then disappeared into his bedroom with a tired 'goodnight'.

⁕⁕⁕

Armin lead you into his room; it was a small attic room, as neat and composed as his style of clothes. He insisted that he take the floor, but you came up with another idea entirely.

"Why not the both of us make a fort, and sleep in it together?" You suggested.

"A-Alright." Armin laughed. His heart beat rapidly, he could feel it.

So the two of you built a plush fort together. Armin laid the base, and you brought the chairs and draped a mismatch of blankets and sheets over it. There were dazzling fairy lights strung by the window, and glow in the dark stars on the ceiling; towers of books threatened to spill over.

The two of you kept your voices hushed and gentle throughout the night.

"I like your room." You said, laying comfortably in the fort that the two of you made.

"Oh... thanks. I actually kind of hate it." Armin said.

You laughed, "Why? What's the matter with it?"

"Well, it's small and sad." He chuckled, "Just like me." He joked.

"Armin!" You laughed with him. "I don't think it's small and sad. It's full of life, and it's got your feeling plastered all over it."

He rolled onto his side to look at you. Such a simple thing, yet it took such courage. You felt really close to him, it was like the two of you were in a bubble that the world couldn't pierce.

"What do you mean, my 'feeling'? Is that good or bad?" He asked.

"It's good." You assured him.

He smiled a little.

Although he seemed so shy and gentle, there was something in his eyes that told you another story of his personality. He was a book that you had only just begun reading, but you wanted to skip in between the pages to answer all the questions you had about the plot.

"Armin, do you consider yourself a romantic person?" You asked. It seemed random to him, and made him blush.

"Well, sort of..."

"What do you mean, 'sort of'?" You smiled under the dim light.

Armin felt lulled by your voice.

"I've never really felt like I've been in love before meeting you." He blurted out.

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

The two of you looked at each other. You began laughing, and he did too.

"Sorry." He mumbled, hiding his face into the pillow. He recoiled so much, you felt his warmth leave your air.

"Don't hide away! I'm not startled, I'm just surprised. I didn't expect you to admit to that now." You said.

"You mean... you already knew that I like you?"

"Oh, definitely. I knew from day one." You laughed.

"Really!" Armin let out a long groan, "That's embarrassing. I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable."

You shook your head, "I like you very much, too. I'll be honest, most of the time when I came into the store to browse, I wished that you'd come up to me and say hello." You admitted.

That was a surprising revelation to him; he would have never thought that you were wishing for that.

"I meant to say hello many times, my friend always encouraged me to." He said.

"And why didn't you?" You asked teasingly.

"I was too shy and too nervous." He admitted simply. "I overthink a lot, it stops me from going after what I want."

A silence passed. You looked at him with glittering eyes. Armin really felt like kissing you right then, he was thinking very hard about it.

"Am I something that you want?" You asked.

Armin blushed.

"Yeah." He said.

You were trying to figure out how to tell him that the feeling was mutual, but then you realized that words are not necessary sometimes.

So you went in for a kiss. A swift, gentle kiss. All the meaningful feelings that words couldn't contain were expressed there, on both of your quivering lips.

[my-prompt-dump]

WIP for Soldier Boy x OC JPad character on The Boys that I made up based on this post

Jared's character will allude his Sam character and some demonic elements too. I think it'd be a nice touch too to name him Sam, Nick, or even Dean (both for spn and gilmore girls reference)

ANYWAY

For this WIPs sake, he's Sam Moore (very original). He's one of the scientists that is doing tests on Soldier Boy while he's stuck in that facility Homelander put him in.

At first, Soldier Boy hated the guy. Doing weird ass tests and poking him with shit he can't pronounce (don't get him started on the stupid electroshock BS that's "important to test your brainwaves" or whatever nerd speak). Seriously, this dude is so pretentious.

Sam is mostly cold to him but after a while, Soldier Boy got bored of being a douchebag and decided to just be an annoying asshole instead. With nothing else to entertain himself, he cracked jokes and yapped about everything until one day, he got a reaction out of Sam. The man rolled his eyes in exasperation from his latest creative joke of the week.

"Ha! So you do have a sense of humor!"

Sam doesn't remove his focus from writing down today's test results. "Never said I didn't."

"Admit it. You find me funny."

"Hilarious." Sam said sarcasticlly.

"By the way, Sammy. When's this thing gonna end? This shit is lasting longer than usual."

"Maybe if you shut the fuck up once in a while, we'd get done faster."

"I feel bad for the girl you're fuckin' if that's how you think."

Then one time Sam missed a schedule. His tests were performed by a girl too shy to be acting like a torture scientist. He asks the girl if Sam had a day off or something as nonchalantly as possible, to which the girl just said: "Sam is uh, indisposed! And he is not allowed to leave the premises, Mr. Soldier Boy sir."

"The fuck does that mean?"

"I uhm- I do not have the authority to share that with you. Sam will be back as soon as he can."

"But where is he?"

"Sam is still indis-"

"Yeah. Indisposed. Heard you the first time."

Soon turns out to be 2 days later. And Sam looks... like hell.

"The fuck happened to you?"

"Your stupid son did."

"Told you not to call him my son. He's more like a sperm that didn't get swallowed."

"Very eloquent."

"You're deflecting. What do you mean Walmart me did that to you?"

"What? You can't understand English now? Should I ask Katie what kind of new tests did she do?"

Soldier Boy likes the banter on a normal day but he's getting annoyed now. "You mean to tell me you went and got in a fight with Homelander and you aren't dead?"

"It was just.. a disagreement."

And that's when it hit Soldier Boy.

"You're a Supe." It wasn't a question but Sam's silence is all the answer he needed.

"Holy shit, you are."

"No. I'm not a Supe."

"Super speed? Strength?" Soldier Boy sees the wounds. "Healing."

"No. Not exactly."

And that was the end of the conversation. Sam refused to talk to him any further and he stopped the next time they saw each other because he can't take this silent treatment.

He's about to tear his hair out from curiosity, though. And he got some kind of answer on their nth schedule this month when Homelander decided he wants to sit in. Soldier Boy is not even trying to hide how he's ignoring the stupid fuck.

"How is he reacting to the new version of V?" Homelander decides to ask Sam.

"Nothing. Because I stopped it."

Homelander freezes and turns his deadly eyes on Sam. "What?"

"I said I stopped it. It wasn't giving productive results."

"And who said you could do that?"

"I did. When you people made me in charge of him."

"I specifically requested for that test. You answer to me!" Homelander is letting his anger explode now.

"I answer to no one. I'm the one doing the tests, I'll decide what to take."

Homelander is all up in Sam's face now. He's floating the the air to be even be eye level of Sam. Most fucks from the Seven would cower in even the slightest bit of anger from Homelander, but Sam barely flinches.

"I'm gonna-"

"Kill me? Do it. We both know I'm more valuable to Vought that you or any of the other Supes in the building right now."

"You will beg for death when I'm done with you."

"I'm not here to beg for anyone. I came here to tell you that I saw you."

"What?" Yeah what? Soldier Boy is lost.

"I saw you."

A realization dawned on Homelander's face but quickly put up his stoic mask again.

"Sometime this month, when a bus load of your fans show up, I'm going to be out there, on Vought's front lawn. And you're going to tuck your tail between your legs and run.

Homelander scoffs. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I don't think you're better than me, John." The lights of the lab began flickering. "I have the Devil's favor on my side. And you? You're just meat in spandex. And I'd love to see the whole world's reaction when I prove that to you."

-------------------------------------------

A bit inspired by one quote of the Umbrella Academy. But essentially, Sam's ability is that he's still the actual Devil's vessel and got most of "Lucifer's" powers plus visions. He's also a bit immortal since Luci keeps bringing him back when he dies.

Next premise I'm thinking if Butcher and co. finding out that SB is held there and went to break him out. Found him, but was intercepted by Homelander. Sam stays behind to hold him off because he says that he can't leave the building anyway- he's tethered. The whole facility has a giant Devil's trap under it and that's how Sam's being kept there.

SB refuses to leave him behind but was assured it'll be okay by Sam. The building is slowly getting destroyed by Homelander's attacks.

SB and co. get out and Hughie or someone sees something from beneath the cracked floor. He yells for SB to punch the floor and when he did, the trap is broken.

There was silence and then a huge eldritch thing emerges from inside the building and devours it whole. People are screaming, running, evacuating.

They see Homelander fly out and zooms away into the distant sky.

The whole structure collapses and they see something on top off the rubble. For a moment, they saw a monster with wings and horns and snakes and blood, and next thing they saw Sam. Normal, lab coat wearing Sam.

Sam collapses from it. They gather him up and escape.

[angelsanarchy]

Like A Pretty Boy: Gabe x Y/N Midi Series- PRT 3

Tagging: @icarus-star@kappasbbgirl@starry-eyed-wild-child@luzclarita57@bonesgirl11 @444rockstargf blondiezluvbrowniezpretty-girl-bloggfallin444niyaliquidsmoothdomme@rootin-tootin-pootinethical-cain-vinnell3viathan-sin666crowfullofwoe@8klil@spoilingthemilk @romanroyapoligist anakinskywalkerssgfzoloftsh4wtywomenloverlmaoberrymeringuepostselvira-aarseth @agornotsworld

Gabe stares at his sisters name on the phone screen again. She's called four times in the last two days. He really doesn't want to answer but he knows if he puts it off any longer, she might actually try and come to his apartment.

"This is Gabe." He answered with a sigh.

"Oh please don't try to sound so put out by answering a phone call from your sister." Ruth carried a tone as if Gabe thinking his time was important was a joke.

"Well you've called a million times, is something wrong?" Gabe asked not wanting this to be a long conversation.

"I want you to come and talk to Jared. I can't get him to talk to me about what happened in school and I figured maybe he would talk to you. David doesn't handle...those sort of things well." His sister explained.

"What? David doesn't remember being a teenage boy?" Gabe teased.

"No I just don't talk about my feelings like some fruit loop." Gabe heard David's voice over the line.

"You know it's polite to tell someone when they're on speaker phone." Gabe grumbled.

"Oh please don't talk to me about etiquette." Another swipe at him to try and put herself above him in some form or fashion. Ruth always did that. She never used to be like this but ever since Gabe decided to go to a more progressive college, she treated him like he was some sort of pretentious liberal asshole. She thought because she was married, lived on the other side of town and brought a kid into the world that somehow meant her life is more fulfilled.

He hadn't realized he had been ignoring her ranting while he got lost in this thoughts.

"Ruth...you're rambling. What's going on with Jared?" Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose.

"He was suspended from school. He won't tell me what happened and keeps blowing it off like it's no big deal but the way his ignorant liberal principal talked to me, it seems like she was calling him a white suprimist or something. Did you know one of his classmates came out as a lesbian. Can you believe that?" She said it with such disgust.

"So? What's that got to do with Jared?" Gabe asked confused.

"Well she might as well shoved it in his face like she's a freaking pre-teen, what the hell does she know about who she's sexually attracted to." Ruth had never talked to Gabe about his sexual preference. She just constantly told him he needed to get a woman in his life so he could settle down and become a real adult.

Apparently paying bills and having his own place wasn't adult enough. He needed to have a white picket fence in upper Manhattan with a wife and a job in finance apparently. All the things that Gabe loathed.

"Baby! I've got dinner!" Y/n called out from the front door and Gabe's stomach dropped.

"Baby? Was that your roommate?" Ruth asked confused.

"Yeah they were talking to the cat...Baby like the girl from Dirty Dancing." Gabe panicked as Y/n stood confused in the doorway as he tried to cover.

"Sounds like your roommate might be a bit fruity too." David said with a laugh.

"Look I will check the train schedule and see if I can come by sometime this week. It's an hour there and an hour back so don't get your hopes up okay?" Gabe said quickly.

"GABE! It's important! Your nephew needs you." Ruth practically shouted.

"Fine...I'll be there Wednesday." Gabe relented.

"Thank you little brother. I'll see you then." Ruth sounded accomplished as she hung up the phone after getting what she wanted. Gabe chucked his phone onto the bed and looked over at Y/n who stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

"So when did we get a cat? I mean I've asked for one for the last few months but-" Y/n started but Gabe shook his head.

"They could hear you call me baby on the phone. I didn't want them to suspect...anything." Gabe watched Y/n's face shift into disappointment.

"Great...well now I won't be getting a cat because I refuse to support that ridiculous cover story." Y/n took his jacket off and hung it on the back of the door.

"It's not a cover-"

"Gabe...we've been friends for seven years, together for four and moved in together for two and I've never met your family, not even as your roommate, as you say, which yes I've heard you call me that by the way." Y/n called Gabe out and he frowned.

"You're more than that and you know it." Gabe reached out to him.

"I'd hope so. I never fucked any of my old roommates so I'd say I'm more too." Y/n's words hurt Gabe.

"Please...stop for a second." Gabe was holding his hands in his own.

"I know how my family would act and I don't ever want that ignorance or hatred to bleed onto what we have here. You are it for me. You are my partner and I want to protect you from anything and anyone that could possibly hurt you." Gabe kissed the back of Y/n's hand and Y/n gave a soft smile.

"That worked the first year on me...not this far in sweetheart." He gave Gabe's hands a squeeze before pulling away.

"Dinner is on the table. I've suddenly lost my appetite." Y/n walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself as Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew his closeted status was a huge weight on their relationship but his fear terrified him. The idea of losing his entire family, despite the moral and ethical differences between them, made him feel like it would be the end of the world if they knew.

He wishes things were easier but all the years they had been together, this was the only thing that kept them apart.

[katareyoudrilling]

Hi Kat, I went to a performance of Tchaikovsky’s Fifth last night and it made me think of you!

If you’re still down to answer a fruit ask, I was wondering if I might submit:

🍑 If you could make a connection between your favorite character and another work you care about (whether a crossover/fusion or a wonderfully “pretentious” literary reference) what would it be? How would it work?

But also perhaps as a bit of a more specific play on the question: how might you pair (either just in your head or as a future writing endeavour) some of your fave characters to write with some of your favourite music (a la All About the Bass)? Or perhaps are there characters that you associate with certain music outside of your own taste?

🌸 M @toomanytookas

M! How lovely for you to think of me 🥰  How was the performance? I am not very familiar with Tchaikovsky’s 5th other than that famous melody in the second movement, but you really can't go wrong with Tchaikovsky!

This is such a fantastic question!  I really wanted to give it some thought and things got a little out of hand lol.  My favorite symphony is Mahler 1 “Titan” which was originally considered a symphonic poem.

I love music that paints a mental picture.  I’ve had the pleasure of performing it twice and each time as I have worked on it, I have daydreamed about the scenes happening as I play.  So, I started thinking about what a fic inspired by Mahler 1 would look like and which Pedro boy belonged in that world.  Here’s what I came up with… (movement titles are my own interpretation)

Movement 1: Tuning the Universe

We open with sunrise; the world is waking up.  Something about it is unusual though—the colors are too bright, the flowers too plentiful.  We realize we are in the realm of the fae.  Our hero, Javi Gutierrez, stretches and considers the world around him.  He basks in the sunshine and greets the woodland creatures.  His fellow fae go about their business while he frolics through a meadow.  He comes upon a stream and notices you, a human woman, washing clothes.  Since you are in the human realm, you are shadowed in gray, not the vibrant colors of Javi’s fae world, but he is captivated by you.  You are so beautiful, even in shadows.  But you seem sad, resigned to your gray life.  He watches you as you go about your work, staying just out of sight. Eventually you make your way back to your people-- a group of travellers.  He watches you as you take your place among them and can’t follow any longer.  He turns back to his frolicking, thinking about you.

Movement 2: A Wine-Soaked Evening

It’s late that night and the fae are having a celebration.  The wine flows as they perform courtly dances and mating rituals.  Javi watches the revelry from afar, still thinking about you from earlier.  He imagines bringing you to the fae dance – how you would spin and twirl with flowers in your hair.  His thoughts drift to the end of the evening, when the fae are drunk off their wine and the dances are no longer crisp and choreographed, but slow and syrupy.  Partners drift off into the woods for sleep and other activities.  Javi imagines kissing you in the moonlight, your soft skin and sleepy smile.  He drifts off to sleep thinking of you.

Movement 3: A Dirge

You awake to your gray life amongst the travellers, the drudgery of moving from one encampment to the next wears on you.  You can’t bring yourself to enjoy the spirited music you once did.  You feel like something is missing from your life. Suddenly, your dream from the night before rushes back to you.  You were dancing with a beautiful, golden man in the forest.  The world was sparkling with life and color, you felt so alive… so whole.  You realize that you are in love with this man in your dream.  Too quickly, the dream fades into the background and you are back in the gray, monotony of your life.

Movement 4: To the Rescue

Javi watches as your group walks along the road.  He shouldn’t have come to try to see you again, but he couldn’t resist.  As he watches, your procession is attacked by raiders!  He rushes down to your aid and bravely fights against the attackers, but he is only one man, even if he is fae.  He calls out to his fae brothers and just when hope seems lost, they arrive to save the day!  The raiders are successfully fought off.  In the aftermath, he searches for you to make sure you are ok.  He finds you and when your eyes lock you exclaim in surprise.  He’s the man from your dream!  Javi admits that as fae, he is able to enter people’s dreams and how he must have done so when he was thinking about you the night before.  Javi tells you how he had watched you and fallen in love with you.  He asks you to come back to the fae world with him.  You are surprised by the request but something in your bones calls to you that this is what you’ve been looking for.  You struggle with your decision, there are people you care about in your old life and you worry about saying goodbye, but even they can see that you have been unhappy and encourage you to go.  You tell Javi that you will, only to find out that you must leap over the chasm between the worlds in order to join the fae.  Only if you truly love the fae on the other side will you make it.  You are scared as you look to Javi on the other side, can you actually do this?  You summon all your courage and make the leap!  Javi gathers you into his arms and kisses you deeply.  The fae celebrate as fireworks light up the sky.  You and Javi run off into the fae world together hand in hand, happily ever after.

What do you think???

Tagging a few people who might be interested in this: @davnittbraes @rebel-fanfare @maggiemayhemnj @grogusmum