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shoichee · 3 years ago

Note

Sooo you want angst? How about a fic/hc/scenario where a fem!reader who's friends with Aomine and liked for a long time (since Teiko) but Aho-mine takes her for granted because: 1. He knows she likes him 2. She's not like Horikita Mai 3. She's not affiliated to the basketball club. The reader is left heartbroken and eventually gave up. He only realized that how important she to him is when she's gone, and that he always liked her too when he sees her with someone else. (Bonus points if it's Kagami~) Especially when he sees that guy being all gentle and sweet. Angst and regrets for Aomine, but a bit fluffy for the reader~ "You'll never know what you have until you lose it, *Aho*mine"

Aomine x f!Reader

Word Count: 12,784

yes this is 39-40 pages on the doc, I’m warning you guys, it’s a bit long, but hey~ get your christmas reading in, I guess?

Note: I can’t believe I had to track down the general timeline for this to the point where I found a reddit thread that had the mangaka’s notes on these types of things. The dates given aren’t canon, but the months should be canon in terms of when mentioned canon events happen? The new school year date I’m 99% sure is correct, since it starts the day after spring break.

current 🏷: @nadav-ii, @carinacassiopeiae, @kendrex13, @roppongiperfume, @thesongstressayre, @kimigiri09 (it’s unfortunately not tagging you? i can only make a link to your tumblr)

wanna be in the taglist? check out this post!

»»—————　☼　—————««

[2 years ago]

“Hey…” a boy with cropped hair turned to you sheepishly with a friendly smile. “My bad, but… could you help me with these questions? I don’t really get it, and you seem to know your stuff.”

“Huh?” You looked up from your desk to see a bashful expression for him, clearly finding it embarrassing to ask for help. To help him save face, you quickly agreed, patting the empty table next to you for him to sit. It was before class, an ordinary day in Teiko, though nothing is really “ordinary” in a school like Teiko to begin with.

“Thanks,” he grinned at you.

You nodded at him before asking, “What is it you have trouble on… um…”

“Aomine Daiki,” he finished for you. “And on these questions. I don’t get them…”

“Okay, Aomine-san,” you nodded, leaning closer to properly read the questions. “Here’s how you do them…”

. . .

“Holy crap, you’re an actual life-saver!”

Aomine quickly rushed to the front of your desk after class to thank you, nearly scaring you out of your wits while you were clearing out your space.

“It’s nothing, really…” you insisted, putting your hands up out of shyness. Being praised out of nowhere like that definitely wasn’t a part of an “ordinary” day.

“I’m serious!” he shot back earnestly. “If it weren’t for you, I woulda failed that pop quiz…” He gulped at the thought of Akashi and Midorima figuring out his academic scores. “So I really appreciate you teaching me, even if you didn’t even know me at all!”

“Pfft,” you laughed. “You’re more than free to come ask me for help.”

“Oh yeah,” he turned to face you, with an expression oddly serious for someone like him. “I never got your name.”

You smiled at his outstretched hand and shook it with your own.

“(l/n) (y/n).”

———

[December 12th]

“Aomine!! You made Momoi cry again?”

“Shut up already, and quit naggin’ so much or you’ll grow wrinkles.”

You only give a huff of indignation before sending your best glare to him. He merely looks at you from the corner of his eyes before closing them with a sigh. That was an indication that he wanted this conversation to end—to change the subject elsewhere that wasn’t as annoying to think about.

“... Go easier on her, okay?” you give a sigh of your own before turning away from him. “She only does these things because she really cares for you. I’m really serious.”

Because I care too.

“Everyone worries for you… Kuroko has been really down in the dumps lately… did… something happen between the two of you?”

“You really are more annoying than Satsuki,” Aomine mumbles, getting up from his resting position to sit up with a slouch. You turn around to face him to participate in a banter again, but his pointed look at you stopped all the words from forming on your tongue. You only stare at him when he continues again. “Seriously, I just wanted a nap on the rooftop and you’re always pestering me, for what?” You furrowed your brows to snap at him.

“To practice, Aomine! Practice sucks, I get it. I personally would want to sleep and chill all day, too. But the fact is, everyone is doing their best on the courts, whether in games or drills, and I know that a part of you wants to also be at your best when the games come, so it’s just so frustrating to see you throw away practices like this—”

“What do you know about me?”

You flinch. You have his entire attention now, his sitting position turned completely to face you. His arm is propped up on a knee, and his lips are pulled in a taut line. What does he even mean…? You’ve been friends for years… right? You hesitate before continuing.

“... I might… not know you as well as Momoi, I know that for sure. And Kuroko, too—but when I see those two visibly upset for your sake, I just can’t help but hate to see how your friendships together are just—you guys were so close and then just, something must’ve happened—”

“Shut the fuck up already.” His eyes finally sharpen into a clarity that fully reflected anger. Clearly, your words touched a nerve. “People like you who act all high and mighty when you have no idea what you’re talking about are the most irritating.”

“... Did something happen at practice recently?”

He abruptly stands up before he walks to the ledge of the higher concrete structure, his back to you. You have no idea what his face looked like at the moment, but after a moment of tense silence, he finally lowered his head as if he thought hard about something.

“... You wouldn’t understand.”

And with that, he jumps down, not even bothering to use the ladder to get down. A harsh screech of the bulky door was the only indication that Aomine left the rooftop to no doubt sleep somewhere else. Silence follows.

“I wouldn’t understand… huh…” you whisper out to no one in particular, staring at the city view obstructed by the safety fencing around the rooftop. You bite your lip in hopes of tamping down the awful feelings threatening to bubble out of you—the powerlessness in helping the person you love; the frustration of him never opening up to you; the lost isolation of being constantly left in the dust. This wasn’t the first time he did this to you, always storming off in his own tantrum when you confronted him on these matters—you weren’t a stranger to them at all. You’ve known him for nearly three years now—you shouldn’t be surprised. So why… why do you feel this way now?

But he’s never lashed out on you like this… ever.

You rapidly blink in hopes of regaining your composure, the kind that would pretend everything was okay and that his words didn’t really hurt you at all.

Yet, even when your lips begin to quiver uncontrollably, your eyes take on a glint of determination, your mind made up. It’s been years since you’ve known him, and you’re going to try to get to the bottom of this.

I want to understand him.

———

[December 13th]

“Aomine doesn’t hate you, (l/n)-san.”

“Eh?” You shoot your head up at Kuroko’s words. You decided to look for Kuroko the next day to confide in him about what happened at the rooftop, even when you two aren’t particularly close to each other. But you knew that Kuroko wouldn’t turn you down if matters were about the Generation of Miracles, let alone Aomine. Kuroko is just far too kind to turn away from people in need of help. Even when you know he’s busy, he insists that you two sit together on a bench to talk things out.

“I… I don’t know,” you whisper. “I think I said something that seriously messed up our friendship.” Kuroko offers you a consoling pat on the head when he sees you trying to hold back tears.

“Aomine-kun… tends to say things he doesn’t mean when he’s angry.” Kuroko sighs a bit, but something lurks deep within his eyes before it disappears altogether. “He’s going through a tough time right now, so I think it’s best to give him space.”

“A tough time?” You widen your eyes a bit before turning away. How come Momoi never told you this? Why didn’t Aomine confide in you? “... May I ask what happened?”

“... As much as I want to tell you,” he begins, “it’s not in my place to say. You’d have to ask Aomine-kun himself when he’s ready.” He drops his hand from the top of your head and faces ahead of him, presumably observing people walking by you two as a form of distraction. He’s thinking about something, and you feel that this conversation has been progressively turning more intrusive on your end. You opt to also stare at the passersby while you ask the next pressing question in your mind.

“Then, is it in your place to tell me what happened between you and Aomine?” You instantly regret your question when you see Kuroko stiffen up and bow his head lower to hide his face. “I… just wanted to ask, because I don’t like seeing how you two practically became strangers in a day, when you guys used to hang out so much, as if you two were inseparable… I thought Aomine’s foul moods lately were because of that… but—you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!” You add the last part in a rush in fear of sounding too demanding.

“Yeah…” he trails off in response. “It’s a bit complicated… I’m still not sure what happened either. It was during our game against Kamizaki when Aomine-kun changed.”

“Oh… Kamizaki…” you reply, uncertainty taking over your voice as you scramble your brain to try to figure out a connection, but to no avail. You mentally curse yourself for not knowing enough about the sport to help out Aomine. “Um, Kamizaki is…?”

Kuroko, thankfully noticing your confusion, patiently explains the context. “Kamizaki is one of the strong teams that gave us a hard time during one of our national matches last year. Aomine had been looking forward to going against them again.”

“Ah!” you chime as if a lightbulb went off in your head. “So you guys lost this year?”

“No, we won that game.”

“Then…” you mumble, furrowing your brows. “I don’t get it… he’s upset that he won?”

(“You wouldn’t understand.”)

“I think it’s something more than that.” Kuroko gets up from the bench while facing you. “Sorry, it’s almost time for practice. I’ll have to get going soon, (l/n)-san. And please don’t be disheartened by Aomine’s words.”

“I’ll try to apologize to him and make amends,” you say with a smile. “If he can scare me away that easily, then I have no right to call myself his friend!” Kuroko gives a small nod and a miniscule smile of his own as he readjusts his book bag on his shoulder.

You only give an automatic wave and nod of your own before he turns to walk away. You, however, miss the somber light in his eyes as he departs for the gym.

———

[December 16th]

You constantly tail after him like a lost puppy at every chance you get, Aomine notes, watching you dash to him with a wave of your arm and a huge smile the moment the school bell signaled the end of the day. He frowns a bit when your eyes fall to the ground when you stop in front of him. Surprisingly, he’s being patient, waiting for you to face him and say what you needed to say. A part of him doesn’t like the troubled look on your face.

“I’m sorry.”

He’s absolutely bewildered, his face giving away what he felt. There’s no way he expected to be forgiven so easily after what he said to you. As much as he knew that he meant every word he said, there was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth after he harshly reprimanded you the other day. You didn’t really deserve him lashing out on you.

“Huh?” He narrows his eyes as he takes a closer read at your face and body language. What the hell? Were you messing with him? “What are you doing?” A rhetorical question he proposed, knowing that no sane person would be this apologetic for something he knew was the one more at fault in the situation. His pride refuses to let him voice out his thoughts though.

“No, really. I’m really sorry for what I said a couple days ago. It was out of line and not in my place to speak when I don’t even know the whole situation and still assume things… so…” you trail off, scratching your cheek in trying to summon up the rest of the words you practiced for your apology for the entire day prior to meeting up with Aomine.

“Oh…” he blinks at your words, replaying the scene at the rooftop in his mind. “That? It’s whatever. Don’t think too much of it.” It’s not really your fault.

“Argh, I’m serious about this, y’know!” you scowl, a complete 180 from the uncertainty on your face seconds earlier. “How could you forget it already?” Despite your words, you’re relieved that he didn’t come to hate you. Besides spending the day practicing your dreaded apology, you spent another day coming to terms with the high possibility that he’d hate you for the rest of his life… and thus, you played out nearly every scenario in your head in how you’d have to beg for forgiveness or find ways to be in his good graces again. The woes of liking someone like Aomine Daiki really came to bite you in the ass quite frequently recently.

Aomine’s eyes follow your hand gestures and explosive outburst before they fall to your side in a weird moment of silence coming from you. You’re thinking about something unnecessary, it seems.

Your thoughts are interrupted when he lightly flicks your forehead. “O-Ow! What the hell?!”

“You’re thinking way too hard about this. Don’t worry about it.” He’s back to his normal self, face impassive once more as he looks down at you. “Geez… you take things way too seriously.”

“R-Right…” you mumble, clearing your throat after a few seconds of him staring at you. “Anyways… I made an extra bento box today, considering that I heard from Momoi that you’re always stealing food from everyone when you’re hungry… just take it. As a token of apology, or something…” With that, you pull out the lunch from your bag and nearly chuck it at him out of embarrassment before you run out the opposite direction where you came from.

“Heh…” he huffs out a chuckle, half-exhale, before looking at the bento box in his hand. “Token of apology, huh…” He opens up the lid to find every part of the lunch meticulously cooked and delicately placed. Octo-dogs were placed in the corner on top of a small pile of rice, while you made small veggie animals with shredded nori sprinkled generously around. A smirk grows on his face when he observes how much work you actually put into it, and if anyone who knew him saw him right now, they might dare to call his smirk somewhat boyish. “Now that’s a load of crap if I’ve ever heard one in a while, (y/n).”

Now… where should he nap for today? He didn’t want to go back to the rooftop for a while, now that either you or Momoi might come up again to disturb him, and there aren’t a lot of locations who can offer that same level of quiet. Aomine grabs an octo-dog to munch on while he walks down the hallway, thinking about where to go for today. That is, until he hears hurried footsteps that he’s very much grown accustomed to for many years now.

“Dai-chan!” Momoi huffs out of breath before she slows down her running to match his stride. “You didn’t even wait for me to get out of class! You’re such a meanie, ugh!”

“Yeah, yeah…” he automatically replies, already drowning out her voice as he keeps walking. He grabs a cat-shaped carrot to pop into his mouth before noisily chewing it to further block out her chattering of anything that may have happened in the Teiko practices lately. Momoi suddenly stops her usual chirping to tippy-toe to get a better look at what he’s holding.

“Eh? Isn’t that (y/n)-chan’s… lunch?” Momoi’s inquisitive voice brought him out of his mind at the mention of your name. He turns to look down at her pouting face.

“Huh? What about her?”

“Don’t tell me you stole it from her! Mou, if you’re gonna keep doing this to people, at least spare (y/n)-chan! Actually, you should stop stealing people’s lunches—”

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t get it twisted, Satsuki. (y/n) gave me one. Said she had an extra.”

“Oh… I… see,” she drops any further assumptions and turns rather thoughtful, something that Aomine never associates with anything good if her mind wasn’t thinking about something basketball-related.

“You better not think of anything stupid,” he says, proceeding to lazily pick up another octo-dog while picking up his walking speed. Momoi, noticing that he’s trying to divert the topic, also picks up her pace to catch up to him.

“(y/n)-chan is a nice girl, isn’t she?”

“Huh?” He stops walking abruptly. Momoi, in trying to catch up, bumps into Aomine’s back before she takes a few steps back to face an annoyed Aomine. “What the hell’s that gotta do with anything?”

“Nothing like that,” she responds, still deep in thought. She continues with a concerned tone of voice. “Just treat her nicely okay? I saw her crying the other day with Tetsu-kun when I was looking for him.”

“And you think it’s my fault for making her cry,” he coldly finishes her thought, not liking where the conversation is going.

“I-I didn’t say that!” Momoi raises her voice defensively, surprised at his unusual reaction. “I was just trying to see if you knew anything about it, Ahomine! Besides, I’m just warning you to be gentle with her or else you’ll never stop hearing it from me!”

“First you’re gonna nag me about basketball, and now this thing with (y/n)? You’re not my damn mom.”

“Because I know you’re never honest about your feelings!” she retorted, getting straight to the point. “If you’re gonna be an asshole, leave her out of it, seriously! (y/n)-chan’s my friend, so any business she has with you is also mine!”

“What (y/n) does is none of my business.” His voice takes on a more hostile tone. “Unlike you, I don’t hover over her constantly.”

“Liar,” she hisses, dropping her playfulness. “Then what was that whole thing about when you scared off some guys who were going after (y/n)-chan two weeks ago? You clearly were around her a lot more to the point where even Tetsu-kun asked me if you had a thing for her!”

Something rises within Aomine when he hears Momoi’s accusations—sickenly warm and terribly uncomfortable, as if his entire body was feeling the effect of pin needles from lack of blood flow. Whatever it is, he hates it.

“I don’t care if they wanna get close to (y/n) all they want. They were invading my damn personal space,” he spits out. “Those dickheads aren’t her type anyways.”

“So you like her then—”

“Hell no,” he scoffs with an inscrutable expression. “She’s definitely not my type. Let’s get that straight, Satsuki.” He finally decides to look at Momoi with his peripheral vision, but all he discerns is her face clearly glaring at him. “The hell are you looking at me like that? Are you gonna tell me that I can’t have a preference now?”

Momoi softens her harsh expression at his question. “Well… no, but…” She stops before she sighs and decides to drop her interrogation. “I just have that womanly instinct, you know? I think (y/n)-chan might see you as—”

“... I know.” His tone becomes one of defeat, his face also softening from his usual frowning countenance.

“Dai-chan…?” Momoi, immediately noticing his change, tries to look at his face to peer into his eyes, but Aomine averts his eyes away under her scrutiny. “You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”

He grunts under his breath as his only response, but his eyes fixating on your half-eaten bento as he keeps walking ahead speaks volumes to Momoi about his inner turmoil.

She drops the subject for his sake.

———

[January 17th]

You’ve stopped bugging Aomine about basketball entirely.

Bringing it up, you reason, seems to be a really sore spot for him as of late, and it’s hypocritical of you to lecture him on it when you have no clue on the topic to begin with. Maybe you can entrust that role completely to Momoi… after all, he’s much closer to her than he is with you. Maybe instead of “being his mom,” like Aomine says, perhaps you should take the time to observe and appreciate the things around you and mind your own business. Like the trees starting to bud… the refreshing breeze… and white noise of students excitedly talking to each other as they pass by buildings… the therapeutic page flips next to you as Aomine slouches to get himself comfortable on the concrete. Though, that’s what you tell yourself as you continue to hear Aomine give an occasional hum of approval.

The knowledge of the content inside those pages isn’t therapeutic in the slightest. But you’d rather endure your petty feelings of jealousy than to risk upsetting him again. You clench your skirt pleats with every increasing number of page-turns you hear… he’s been going through his new collection a lot faster than usual, too…

You hone your focus on your modern history worksheet on your lap instead, hoping that staring at the printed figure of Yamagata Aritomo hard enough could somehow transport you into Meiji-era Japan and escape your current predicament. Still, you’re grateful that you have the chance to sit next to him at the usual rooftop once again. You don’t know how exactly you two agreed to come up to share the space again, but when you decided to come up to the rooftop on a whim, Aomine was already there. All he said was a lazy “yo” before he went back to reading his issues, which you took as a way for him to tell you that he didn’t mind your presence. And you settled yourself a few feet away from him, making yourself comfortable on the concrete before settling down your bag. Hence, leading up to this point… which you sort of regret being here now.

No matter, if you’re already here, you might as well actually start studying for your high school entrance exams. Normally you’d also turn to Aomine to scold him to take his studies just as seriously, but when you habitually turn to face him and open your mouth… you stop.

What am I thinking? You’re not his mom, remember, (y/n)? You want him to see you as a desirable woman. Stop being naggy!

You give a wry smile to yourself, watching Aomine at peace in this shared moment between the two of you, even if his object of his undivided attention was Horikita Mai.

It’s okay… you think. As long as I get to remain by his side like this, I won’t ask for more.

You force yourself to peel your gaze away from him to look back at the historical figure printed rather crookedly on the paper. You resolve yourself to pick up your pencil and start writing.

You don’t really know how much time passes between the two of you. It could’ve been only thirty minutes; it could’ve been a couple hours. But you begin to find solace with the rhythm of the graphite sliding across your paper, your mind too occupied with recalling lecture notes and your ears too filled with the sound of your pencil scurrying across the print to register anything on Aomine’s end. At last, you finish the last short-answer question on the page, and you gently drop your pencil as your body finally releases all the pent-up tension. Shifting your seating position slightly, you dare to take a peek at the ace of Teiko…

… only to find that his eyes were on you.

Both of you jump and look away at the unexpected shared eye contact, both equally mortified that the other had caught each other staring.

“S-Sorry…” you mumble, “I was just checking on you after I was done with work on my end…”

“Tch… you got too quiet, so I thought you got replaced or somethin’...” he trails off before he goes back to his usual cocky self. “Seeing your ugly face though was more than enough proof that you’re still here.”

You gape at him. “Eh?! What’s that supposed to mean, Ahomine!? Like you’re one to talk, stupid!”

He lazily blinks before putting a pinky in his ear to further irritate you. “Dunno, whenever you’re here, you usually get steam coming out of your nose, like some folklore monster.”

“What?!” you gasp. “I do not!”

“Just like that.”

“Geez…!” you click your tongue, turning away from him to disengage from the banter. “I might have an ugly face, but your nasty attitude won’t get you anyone either, idiot.”

“So what?” he shrugs languidly. “All I need is Horikita Mai-chan, anyways.”

You involuntarily grimace at his serious tone… even if there was (or so you hope) a slight chance that he’s just joking. Thankfully, your face was already turned away for him to notice.

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh, trying to sound casual. “All those magazines are pretty self-explanatory, y’know.” You then nod your head in his direction, referring to a few scattered booklets strewn around his legs. Turning away, you stretch your legs out, put your things back in your bag, and get up to stand with one final stretch.

“You’re leavin’ already?” he raises a brow at your sudden movement.

“You know that sitting on cement like that for so long isn’t ideal for studying,” you half-chide, inwardly thankful that coming up with excuses has become much easier lately. “I’m probably gonna head home right now before it gets too dark. Are you really gonna stay here all day?”

“I’m too tired to move.”

“You’re so childish, you know that?” You give a small laugh at his antics. “Well, do whatever you need to do. I’ll be on my way. Seeya.”

You skip a bit, eager that you get to escape without raising any suspicions. Aomine might not excel academically, but he isn’t stupid… quite the opposite, in fact. You often get annoyed at how sharp he gets for the most random situations.

“Oi.”

You’re on the first ladder step going down when he calls out, freezing as you grip the sides of the ladder. You watch him get up into a comfortable sitting position, before he looks at you for a bit.

“Er… did you want something?” you tilt your head in slight confusion.

“Never mind,” he sighs. “... Had something on my mind, then forgot. Make me a bento for tomorrow, yeah?”

“He averts his gaze when he lies,” Kuroko said.

You were walking home together, deciding that visiting the convenience store for a quick snack would be a good detour.

“Who?” you stopped licking your ice pop to look at Kuroko’s stare boring into you.

“Aomine-kun.”

“Eh? Why are you telling me this?” you raised a brow at the odd turn of conversation.

He only gave you a knowing look that you couldn’t completely understand before he replied: “I noticed he had this habit recently, and I was wondering if you also noticed it too, seeing that you guys hang out a lot, (l/n)-san. Even if we grew distant, he’s still an important friend to me, so I was hoping if you knew something that was possibly troubling him. I did tell him that I wasn’t going to make him tell me anything he wasn’t comfortable with.”

“No,” you shook your head. “But I’ll keep your words in mind.”

“Thank you.” He smiled. “If you ever have something that’s troubling you, you can come talk to me. You’re my friend, too.”

He’s not looking at you.

You open your mouth to ask what he was about to say, but you close it just as quickly. It’s not your business to prod, after all. Your own gaze skids away while your lips pressed together.

“Well, then…” you say. “If that’s all, then I’ll be off. No promises on the bento, though.”

The sound of metal squeaking and clothes rustling follow your descent down the ladder before metal screeches echo as you open and close the door of the rooftop entrance.

(“You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”)

Aomine sighs loudly in annoyance before he goes back to indulging everything Horikita Mai had to offer in the 27th volume special.

———

[January 22nd]

“What did I say about taking (y/n)-chan’s food?!” Momoi trails after Aomine with a scowl as he continues to walk unbothered. “This is the 5th day in a row!”

“Is it really a problem if she lets me?” Aomine holds your bento box in one hand while covering his face with the other as he yawns. “You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“You really don’t understand the heart of a lady—ugh! I swear, you’re as dumb as a rock!”

“Whatever.”

Momoi harshly knits her brows at his apathetic attitude towards you. What should she do? Should she tell you? Should she keep pushing Aomine to be honest? She swallows before deciding it best to keep quiet. But her heart hammers in fear of witnessing another friendship between you, Aomine, and herself crumbling before her eyes again.

Dai-chan… she thinks, looking at his back as he munches on your onigiri. Stop being an idiot for once, would you?

———

[March 1st]

“Thanks,” he says, immediately snatching your bento box out of your hands the moment you pulled it out of your bag.

“What the hell?!” you glare at him, putting your hands to your hips.

“I know you packed an extra one, (y/n). Don’t get mad at me now.” He merely picks up the chopsticks before digging into the tempura. “Ish perrty good shrimp.”

You widen your eyes, forgetting completely to be angry at the sight of Aomine genuinely enjoying your cooking. You avert your gaze at the compliment. “T-Thanks…”

Aomine looks at you, the you that has grown to become compliant and bashful in his presence recently.

(“You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”)

He goes back to finishing your lunch instead of thinking about the difficult things. A part of him likes the current dynamic you two share recently, a nice balance between entertaining banter, peaceful privacy (especially when you stopped yapping his ear off as of late), and free food. Saying the things that Momoi wants him to say could ruin everything you two had. So he doesn’t say anything.

Since when did you start making him lunch every day without him saying anything? It’s been a month since this started, ever since he made that one off-comment about making him lunch to throw you off from his uncharacteristic silence. You never complained that it was too much work, and you certainly never slacked off on your craft when it came to your bento boxes. Every lunch he’s eaten from you was carefully curated and cooked to near perfection.

It’s unfair for you, he knew. What would he say though? He’s never been one with words at all. He frowns.

“Something wrong with my lunch?” you tease, and he looks up to see you staring at him so fondly.

Quit looking at me like that…

“Tch, it’s edible enough,” he slightly sulks at your good-natured tease before shoving another helping into his mouth.

“Say,” you begin, eagerly leaning forward to get his attention. “What school are you thinking of enrolling in a couple weeks?”

“None of your business,” he snorts, already satisfied at seeing your fond, sappy look turning into a more combative expression. There it is.

“Oh come on!” you insist. “So you already chose a school without telling me? Let me guess, it’s one of those… Kings of… schools—the really strong schools for basketball?”

“Three Kings of Tokyo,” he corrects you. “Nah.”

“Tell me,” you huff with your arms crossed. “Or I’m not making you bento anymore, and you can starve to death.”

“Geez, I was about to tell you anyways,” he drawls, already finishing the last bite. “That one school called Touou.”

“Huh? But I’ve never really heard of that school from anywhere though, especially for basketball.”

“Yeah, got an offer, though.”

“Oh…” you hum, packing away your own lunch into your bag. “If that’s the case, I might consider that school too, then.”

“Hah?” He raises a brow. “Why?” He puts his utensils down to look at your figure.

“Uh…” you mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Someone’s gotta have to keep you in check, right? Besides, I personally don’t have any idea where to go yet either.”

“If you’re just coming to tag along with me,” Aomine begins, narrowing his eyes. “Forget it. Satsuki is already coming with me, no matter how much I tell her to buzz off. I don’t need another person to nag me 24/7.”

“But—!” you counter, raising your eyes to meet his own. “How are you gonna manage with lunch and all?”

“I’m not a kid, (y/n), and you know that,” he coolly responds. “They have cafeterias, vending machines, and fast food spots. I can manage without you.”

“Um, even so…” you argue, though your voice dwindles at his strong attempts of pushing you away. You feel uneasy at the inevitable argument that’s to come right around the corner. “I’m not as easy to get rid of either like Momoi, you know that more than anyone, too.”

Goddamn it, why were you so stubborn at the wrong times? Can’t you take a hint?

(“You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”)

“Look…” he sighs, eyes looking straight at you to convey his message across. “I know you like me, and all. But you’re not my type. I don’t see you that way.”

But even though he tries his damn hardest to look at you, he can’t. He chickens out at the last sentence and looks away.

“I-I… I know… I’ve known,” you weakly reply. “But staying by your side as friends is more than what I can ask for. I value our friendship more than anything else.”

“And I’m not the guy for you, either,” he carefully continues. “Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but choose a school for your own good—”

“Who are you to decide whether or not you’re good for me?” you snap, visibly frustrated at the turn of events. Weren’t you two just enjoying each other’s presence a few minutes ago? Was it all in your head? “I make the choice of whether or not I want to spend time with you! And you know how persistent I can be… I’m sure Touou has a really good curriculum and selection of extracurriculars, too, I can make it work—”

“You’re an actual dumbass,” he hisses, his short temper getting the better of him after you went hostile on him. How could you not see his point? “How does this shit keep flying over your head?”

You flinch, the feeling so familiar to the time he lashed out on you at the rooftop. He’s glaring into your widened eyes, but he doesn’t care right now, the words he’s been struggling to form and tell you for months now flowing out of him with no filter. If he only realized you liked him a couple months back, how long have you actually liked him? A year? More than that? The adrenaline right now is the only crutch in giving him the courage to give you some type of closure you deserved, even if a part of him hates to see you upset.

“... The hell’s that supposed to mean…?” Your voice cracks at the end, and your hands grip the straps of your book bag so hard they’re shaking.

Where’s the boy I liked from 2 years ago?

“I mean exactly what I said,” he spits out, his own frown further deepening into a visible crease on his face. “Look, (y/n), you can’t keep tailing after me forever. That’s hella annoying.”

“What about Momoi…?” you whisper. “I get that you’re childhood friends, but how come you always let her stay by your side?”

“Look,” he shoots back. “Satsuki is different—”

“Aomine-kuuuun!” Momoi’s voice rings across campus, and Aomine whirls around to see her running to him at breakneck speed. “Hey, hey! There’s a new coffee shop around the corner! We should totally try it together! I’ll even pay for you if you ask nicely enough…”

You stare at the floor, trying to hold back unshed tears by gripping your bag straps even harder. “... Excuse me.”

“Wha–hey!” Aomine turns back to face where he presumed you were at, only to see you gone from his sight.

“... Was that (y/n)-chan?” Momoi shoots a curious glance behind his back.

“Tch, don’t worry about it.” He gives a long, winded sigh before scratching the back of his head. “Just leave her be.”

She only gives a worried look at him before she continues with her prior conversation.

———

[March 4th]

You avoid him for the next few days… that much he expects. He’ll never say it out loud, but he finds it sort of amusing to see you try to keep yourself completely hidden from him. The way you duck when you see him; the way you scramble to grab your belongings before you book it; the way you try to run so fast to escape his line of vision when he can easily catch up to you if he just jogs. But he doesn’t.

Because even though he’s a bit bummed about what happened the other day, he now doesn’t feel the pressure to stick around you just to build up his courage to finally give you that closure.

It feels quite nice to not have any obligations and demands expected of Momoi or you. Naps have never been so peaceful now that his sense of conscientiousness has been relieved. Other than Momoi occasionally bothering him, but that’s manageable… he’s quite used to that.

He’s not 100% used to not seeing you around him every day, though.

It’s probably for the best.

Still, maybe he was too harsh on you (like always). But there’s no way in hell he’s going to march up to you and grab your arm while you’re running and then apologize. That might give you the wrong idea—

“Pssst, hey, (y/n)-san seems distant from Aomine, lately.” A small group of people huddled around a desk, surrounding a guy sitting on it, who appears to be the source of the voice.

“Weird, isn’t it? She follows him around every day, and he’s always guarding her or something.”

Bullshit. He doesn’t “guard” her—his resting bitch face and his ridiculous athletic build have always been advantageous for both (y/n) and Momoi to repel off the creeps. Not that he cared. It’s only when they get so noisy and too close in his bubble that he gives them verbal threats of violence. And that almost always works to scare them away.

“Think I can have a chance with her this time?”

“I dunno… (y/n)’s not the passive type to go along with it. I mean how else could she deal with Aomine every day?”

“... You’re right.”

“I mean… there’s Momoi…”

Aomine sighs. They really have nothing better to do, huh.

They’re right that they’re the type of people (y/n) wouldn’t like in the slightest. He doesn’t know what you see in him, but at least your standards aren’t abysmally low where you’d happily go along with one of them. He scoffs to himself in a way to mock their desperate attempts.

They don’t know what’s coming to them if they actually were serious about dating her. Avoiding her romantic advances is like dodging a bullet, actually.

He kinda misses your cooking, though. His self-assured grin instantly flips into a frown at the stray thought.

———

[March 5th]

Imagine his unadulterated shock when he sees you casually walk up to his desk and drop a wrapped package of (what he assumes) his bento box the next day.

“What,” you dryly say. “Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“... Whatever.” He merely eyes the lunch before he carefully tries to get a read on your face. Holy shit, you look awful, eyes slightly puffy probably from all the crying you did behind closed doors. He chooses not to acknowledge the weird pang his heart does at the sight of you.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” you goad, though you sound a bit too exhausted to be provoking. “At least, until we graduate and go into our high schools, let me continue making lunch for you. As… a symbol of our… good friendship.” You hesitate to try to find the right phrasing for the last part… Now that you really thought about it these past few days… were you two really friends? You just bothered and tagged along with Aomine your entire three years here at Teiko, and you always tried to cater your schedule and interests around him. Here you were, trying to understand him as best as you can.

Did he even try to understand me at all the entire time we’ve known each other?

“... What’s your game?” he says, clearly thrown off guard, He opts to look away from you to stare at the window by his desk. “... Did I not make it clear last time?”

“Yeah, yeah… I know.” You give a sad smile before your grin grows unnaturally wider to hide your vulnerabilities. “You were unusually honest. So honest, it threw me off.”

No more… I’m not opening my heart to you any longer.

“Are you here to just embarrass me or something for revenge?”

“No one has that type of deplorable thinking like you,” you chastise, seemingly back to your old self. “Besides, we’re friends, first and foremost, and I can’t ignore a friend in need. You were probably starving yourself like an idiot, or something.”

Aomine was still facing the windowsill, but at your words, his eyes flitted to look at you once more. “... You sound like Tetsu.”

“Oh wow!” you gasp, putting a hand to your mouth in surprise. “How’d you know we’re dating?”

He whips his head to you. “What?! What the hell are you talking about?—”

“Kidding,” you interrupt him before he gets too explosive on you. “You can’t be that much of an idiot to not be able to call out that bluff.”

“Screw off.”

He can only click his tongue in absolute annoyance as he hears you laugh to yourself walking out of the room before the school bell rings.

Yeah, you're definitely back to your normal self.

He’s a bit reassured that he’ll still have you in his life.

———

[March 15th]

It’s been two weeks since Aomine completely crushed your hopes of a romantic relationship with him. You don’t feel okay, not at all, but you’re eagerly counting down the days before you can go to Seirin with Kuroko.

And no, you never planned to go in order to be by Kuroko’s side. It was a mere coincidence that you found out.

[March 8th]

“(l/n)-san, what’s wrong?” Kuroko sipped his vanilla shake, popping up out of nowhere while you were in the middle dwelling in your negative thoughts alone at your table. Your burger was left half-eaten, and your fries got cold.

“EEP!” You were shocked out of your daze, jumping in your seat. You eyed a worried Kuroko across the table. “Ah, geez, it’s just you. When’d you get here?”

“For a while actually,” he admitted. “I first called out your name from afar, but it didn’t seem like you noticed me.”

“Well,” you sweatdropped. “I don’t think I would’ve noticed you anyways under any other circumstances…”

“When you’re upset…” Kuroko said. “You have your own habit of looking down, whether it’s your lap, the floor, or what’s in front of you.”

“Leave it up to you to easily figure that out,” you sighed. “You’re always with me when I’m thinking about something dumb or just messed up. Sorry that you constantly have to deal with that.”

“It’s not a problem, (l/n)-san.”

“Yeah…” you mumbled. “So, I’m gonna get straight to the point… Aomine knew he liked me, and yeah, it didn’t end well…”

“Ah.”

“Don’t worry, though,” you reassured him. “I knew all along that it would… end up this way.”

“... Even if you hoped for more?”

“I can’t help that, can I?” you sighed again. “Anyways, right now, I was thinking about what I want to do after I graduate from Teiko… I never thought about these things like that. ‘Cause, you know, I thought I could figure things out on the go while being by both Aomine’s side… but I guess he’s right that I shouldn’t mindlessly follow him everywhere… and Momoi has her own plans of going to Touou as their basketball manager. I should leave those two be.”

Kuroko stayed silent for you to continue.

“Seirin seems like a good school… It’s new, but it has really good facilities, and even if I don’t know what to do, it seems like it can give lots of good opportunities, and if anything, it can give me a fresh start.”

Kuroko slightly widened his eyes. You noticed and tilted your head for him to explain his reaction.

“I’m also going to attend Seirin.”

“E-Eh?!! That’s a scary coincidence… What’s your reason for picking it?”

“... They seem to have a good basketball team,” he quietly replied, his eyes looking as if they’re looking so far back. “I like their teamplay. I’ve been wanting to be in that type of team for a long time.”

“I see…” you murmured. For a moment, you noticed Kuroko’s pained look… but remembering Aomine’s words about being nosy, you decided not to press into it.

You give a long sigh again. And here you thought that you can end your last year at Teiko well and happily. Right now, you would usually look for Aomine in his usual spots: Maji Burger, the school rooftop, or the local park. It’s different now. Sitting on an empty table outside to finish up the rest of those pesky kanji worksheets, you finally truly take in your surroundings… the trees starting to bloom this time… the refreshing breeze… and white noise of students excitedly talking to each other as they pass by buildings… but there are no longer the therapeutic sounds of page flips next to you as Aomine slouches to get himself comfortable on the concrete. Though, you pretend you’re next to him as you continue to somehow hear Aomine give an occasional hum of approval at whatever filthy page he feasted his eyes on.

Once again, the knowledge of the content inside those pages you imagined isn’t therapeutic in the slightest.

It hurts.

And there’s no way you can focus on the questions, not when thoughts of Aomine continue to pervade and fill up every damn crevice—every crook and cranny—of your mind.

Were you missing something? Were you not pretty enough? Were you not relatable enough? Was there another way for Aomine to consider seeing you as a romantic partner?

For the first time, you really let the implications of Aomine’s words sink in… If you had more agency—more independence—in the first place, would he have considered letting you tag along to Touou? What if… you had more knowledge on basketball like Momoi?—

“(y/n)-chan…!”

A familiar, chirpy voice breaks you out of your wallow in self-pity and a flash of pink fills your vision. Of course your thoughts accidentally summoned her here, you wrly think. Momoi represented the complete opposite of your current emotional state, flouncing around quite cheerfully to grab your attention. Though, if you are completely honest, she has the same look of sorrow in her eyes similar to Kuroko’s.

“What’s wrong, Momoi?” you ask, giving her a reassuring smile to encourage her to share her potential troubles.

“Eh…? What’s wrong with me?” she frowns in confusion.

“You look a bit down, that’s all. You and Kuroko share the same look in your eyes sometimes.”

“Oh…” she averts her gaze. Normally, she would squeal about having something in common with her “true love,” but she takes on a somber note of acknowledgment. “I guess you can say that… but more importantly!” She directs the subject of conversation to you. “You! (y/n)-chan! You look like you need more comfort than me.”

She takes a seat next to you and eyes at your worksheets, noting the sporadic dried splotches across the paper. You’ve been crying.

“I guess it takes a sad person to know another one,” you joke, though your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Momoi frowns at her only friend (besides the GoM) in such a distressed state, even if she knows you’re actively trying to hide it.

“It’s about Dai-chan, isn’t it?”

“Ah…” you look down at your worksheets. “So you knew.”

“Sorry…” she murmurs. “I told him to be gentle and honest with you.”

“Well he certainly gave me the latter,” you softly laugh. “Hey, hey… there’s no need to be down for my sake.” You immediately reach out to gently ruffle her hair with a head pat. She widens her eyes at the unexpected physical contact.

“Sorry, did I push my boundaries?”

“No, no…!” she denies, shaking her head to reassure you. “You reminded me of Tetsu-kun right now… that’s all.”

“Huh, I guess he’s been rubbing off on me,” you muse. A thought comes to you. “Actually, can I ask you something?”

“Eh?” She blinks. “Sure, I’ll try my best to answer whatever it is.”

You finally look up to face Momoi head on. “Was I ever too overbearing on Aomine? I wonder if I crossed any boundaries with him at any point. If you noticed anything at any point, please tell me everything.”

“No,” she firmly reassures. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all. Dai-chan is the real idiot here. You’ve only done what’s best for him, and I would’ve done the same in your place.”

“Pfft, he always calls us nagging grandmas, doesn’t he?”

“Right? He has no tact, at all!” Momoi huffs, puffing out her cheeks in a pout. “Despite all that, he cares for you, (y/n)-chan. I’m serious. Even if he’ll never admit it like the idiot that he is.”

You give a rueful smile. “Thank you, Momoi.”

Turning away from Momoi, you look up at the trees, so full of flowers that it fills the void in your heart by gazing at them. You sense that she’s also doing the same.

“... Hey, Momoi?”

“... yes?”

“You love Kuroko, don’t you?” You turn back to face Momoi. She gives an innocent simper at the mere mention of his name.

“I do. But even though he’s not the type to date, I want to be by his side.”

You smile too, her joy too contagious to ignore, but that smile somewhat deflates when your thoughts go back to Aomine against your will.

“Hey… how do you love someone who doesn’t love you back?”

She pauses and takes in the many implications of your question. “I don’t know,” she admits. “It just happens, you can’t always control it… I’ll wait for Tetsu-kun, even if it’s the most idiotic thing to do. I just can’t help it. That’s what love is, I think.”

“I see…”

“It’s not for everyone. Loving someone like that.”

“I thought I could do that…” Your whisper comes out so hoarse. “With Aomine—I thought… as long as I got to be by his side, I wouldn’t ask for more… but it hurts to go back to being friends—it hurts to see him… I don’t want to see him anymore.” The last part of your confession ends up being a choked sob.

“Shhh…” she hushes you to console you. “It’s okay, it’s good to cry it out.” She rubs down your back as tears endlessly plop onto your worksheets, no doubt ruined by now.

“Please… please don’t tell—”

“I won’t tell anything to Dai-chan… I promise.”

Dai-chan… were you truly honest with (y/n)-chan?

———

[April 6th]

“Aomine-kun! There you are! Where were you? Sheesh, we don’t want to miss the entrance ceremony!”

Aomine towers over the crowd, his eyes clearly scanning—looking—for something amidst the countless students walking around and socializing amongst one another. Even as Momoi tugs on his new uniform blazer (not properly worn, no doubt) to get him to walk, he stands to face the front gates expectantly.

“... Where’s (y/n)?”

“Huh?” Momoi looks at Aomine like he grew three legs. “She’s not at Touou, Ahomine. What are you even talking about?”

“... Thought she woulda tailed me here too.”

“You told her off to choose a different school!”

“I did not,” he grunts. “I told her to choose a school for a reason that’s not on me. Besides, my words never stopped her from annoying me all the time… Wait, when did you hear me say that?”

“You were shouting at her that day! Anybody nearby could’ve heard that!” She glares at him. “And well, those words of yours certainly stopped her now. Do you hear yourself right now?”

“The hell…” he ignores Momoi and curses, kicking the gravel before lazily walking with his hands in his pockets to his assigned seat for the ceremony. Of course, Momoi tails after him despite being pissed off.

Words from all the speeches from the faculty and student alumni went in one ear out the other for him in a continuous slur of nonsense. His body goes on autopilot, standing and sitting when everyone else does the same, while he continues to scan over the hundreds of heads, thinking he must’ve missed your dumbass by mistake. Of course he notices Momoi sitting a short distance away from him; the way everyone ogles at her is obnoxiously contagious and far from discreet.

But where are you?

———

[April 10th]

“... Do you mind if…” you hesitate, turning to Kuroko after he signs his name on the basketball club interest form. “... You teach me more about the sport?”

Kuroko looks at you curiously at your question, and you quickly clarify yourself. “It’s not for Aomine’s sake, or anyone else’s for the matter. I just want to watch a few of your practices, and things like that… it might be fun… I wanna try something new.” You give a small smile, albeit nervously. “I won’t be in the way, I promise—even if I don’t know what’ll be happening most of the time—”

“I’ll ask the coach when the time comes,” Kuroko reassures you, his own smile mirroring your own growing grin at his answer.

“Alrighty!” you cheer. You stop yourself when you see a student who easily towered over everyone at the basketball club booth. “What the… that guy’s a high school student?!”

“Oh,” Kuroko turns to where you were pointing. “He seems like someone with a hot temper.”

“Reminds me of a certain someone, doesn’t he, Kuroko…?” You give a soft elbow jab and a playful lilt, though both of you knew you were both still recovering from the emotional blows from last year.

He quietly nods before he follows you to the other club booths nearby.

———

[April 20th]

“Where did Kuroko go…!” You’re breathless at the bench, watching the game between Seirin and Kaijo. This is just a practice game? It’s way too intense to be considered such.

Riko, amused at your reactions, gladly explains what’s going down on the courts as it happens. “Kuroko’s greatest strength is using his lack of presence for his misdirection—”

“And wait—Kagami is—!” You near-completely ignored Riko’s explanation when Kagami steals the show with a dunk, completely leaving you in awe with his impossible vertical. “What kind of person jumps that high… what the hell?” She merely chuckles with a hand to her lips before she turns her full attention back to the game.

Kise experiences his first taste of defeat soon enough.

You ignore the way your heart flipped when Kagami dunked the final basket on Kaijo.

———

[May 23rd]

Aomine lays serenely on the rooftop, but his mind is far from relaxed. Tomorrow is the day Touou would crush Seirin in the Inter-High preliminaries.

… Seirin, huh.

He remembers when Momoi broke the news to him when they walked home together after the entrance ceremony. Thinking about it still pisses him off—he can’t help it though, he can’t stop thinking about it… his mind involuntarily plays that conversation in his head over and over. No amount of porn magazines could bury the dull thuds in his chest when he thinks about you.

[April 6th]

“She’s at Seirin right now.”

“What?!” His eyes slightly widened as he stopped walking to incredulously look at her. “You’re seriously pullin’ my leg right now, Satsuki.”

“I would totally yank your stupid legs if I could, Ahomine,” she petulantly grumbled. “But I’m telling the truth. She told me before we went off on our spring break when we said our goodbyes to each other. I told her I was going to miss her, and I also told her to take care of Tetsu-kun for me and let me know if anything happened over there.”

What the hell? When did you get close to Satsuki enough to confide in her? How come he didn’t hear shit from you?

“Hah, so you’re telling me she’s tailing Tetsu now that she can't follow me?” He gave a derisive snort, not liking the development of your relationship with Kuroko for some reason. Momoi gave him that knowing look of admonishment.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, idiot! One! They don’t see each other like that, and two! How (y/n)-chan decided on her school is none of our business. I’m sure she has her own reasons, and you have no right to judge her at all!”

Aomine stared at Momoi, who’s usually so compliant to his demands and harsh words. To see her stick up for you so adamantly was more than surprising. He furrowed his brows before walking ahead of her in a feeble attempt to cut the conversation short.

“Tch… I know that already…”

He releases a heavy sigh. His ego wouldn’t allow him to simply go up to Kuroko and ask about your wellbeing, let alone asking him to set up a time and place for him to meet up with you. What were you doing over there right now? Were you doing okay? Are there random people harassing you or bothering you now that he’s not there with you to scare them off?

He slings his arm over his eyes and sighs again.

“... This is annoying. I’m tired…”

God, it sucks so bad, but he really misses your lunches. Satsuki’s atrocious cooking is still lethal to this day, and Sakurai’s octo-dogs he sometimes steals only measures up to a fraction of the taste of your own octo-dogs.

He’s been hallucinating for a bit—even while he naps, he’s sworn that he always hears pencil scribblings and annoying sighs nearby. He swears that it’s you, that you’re actually enrolled in Touou and that somehow, you roped Momoi into agreeing into this sick prank to get back at him for all the shit he’s done to her all these years. He swears he can hear you muttering the questions out loud before you deftly solve them. He swears he can hear you nagging him to practice even if you haven’t had a clue what basketball entails.

What the hell… He thought that you two would still be friends—attached to the hip, even if a romantic relationship was out of the question. He supposes that it’s a bit naive on his end to think that. Damn it, damn it… Seirin isn’t that far from Touou either… wouldn’t you normally find the way and time to stop by and annoy him like there’s no tomorrow, anyways?

———

[August 14th]

“Kuroko, who do you think would win?”

“I don’t know,” he replies. “This is the first time I’ve seen two Generation of Miracles starters play against each other… However, Aomine-kun inspired Kise-kun to play basketball.”

“Really?” Kagami turns to him in surprise. You stand nearby, listening to Kuroko’s words carefully. After all, they pertained to Aomine.

“They used to play one-on-one a lot, but Kise-kun has never won.”

Aomine… was THAT good? You blink in surprise, remembering about Seirin’s practice match against Kaijo before you turn your attention back on the court. Well, you shouldn’t be that surprised, considering that the Seirin returned with a loss against Touou in the preliminaries… before getting eliminated altogether later on. Knowing how amazing Kagami and Kuroko are at basketball… if they both got single-handedly defeated by the ace of Touou, you shouldn’t doubt Kuroko’s words about Aomine’s strength. You weren’t there to watch that game after all.

You feel a warm, heavy hand pushing on top of your head.

“H-Hey!”

“You have a scary look on your face that I almost mistook you for Aomine,” Kagami says quite seriously, though if you squint, you swear that he’s teasing you. Irk marks pop onto your temples as you try to shoo his hand off of you.

“Oh—come on! Lay off, will you? I do not have a scary face! If anything, it’s you!”

“The hell do you mean by that?!”

“I mean exactly what I said, Kagamidiot!”

Kuroko, unbeknownst to anyone, observes your interaction with Kagami with the faintest smile before turning his attention to see the referee starting the jump ball.

“Everyone, it’s starting.”

———

[December 7th]

He… he lost.

He finally lost.

Aomine stares at Kuroko and Kagami, still reeling from the foreign sensation of defeat creeping into him.

“Why are you acting like it’s all over?” Aomine snaps out of his daze to focus on Kagami. “Things are just getting started. Let’s play again. I’ll take you on.”

Aomine stands there at a loss for words until he scoffs at him, but if anyone was to look at Aomine right now, they would say he’s relieved and pleased to hear those words. “Shut up, idiot.”

“Aomine-kun…” Kuroko calls out, bringing Aomine’s attention from Kagami to his former “shadow.” A moment of reflection is shared between the two of them before Aomine finally acknowledges Kuroko’s style of basketball.

“You win, Tetsu.”

Kuroko contemplates for a bit before opening his mouth. “Can I ask you for a favor?” Kuroko raises his hand in a fist bump before Aomine makes a noise for him to continue. “You still haven’t returned my fist bump.”

“What?” he retorts, slightly flustered at the sudden request. “Who cares about that?”

“No,” Kuroko says, deadpan as ever. “Try putting yourself in the shoes of the ignored.” Aomine gives a long look, hesitant and unsure before he finally relents.

“Fine. This is the last time though… Next time, I’ll win.”

“Okay.”

While still holding the fist bump, Aomine finally brings himself to ask the question plaguing in his mind for the past couple months: “Hey… is it true that (y/n) is in Seirin?”

Kuroko widens his eyes in momentary surprise before he carefully responds. “Yes, she’s actually been cheering us on these past couple months. She’s somewhere in the stands right now. Though, I’m not sure where.”

“I see…” The ace of Touou separates from the fist bump first and turns to get ready for the team lineup, looking rather thoughtful.

Kagami raises a brow at the question that came out of seemingly nowhere for someone like Aomine, but in truth, he knew. You told him everything about what happened between you and Aomine a couple weeks ago while shedding tears.

“There’s nothing wrong with you at all.”

“Eh?” You attempted to wipe the last of your tears before you looked at Kagami to see his reaction. He still could see how red your eyes were even despite trying to remain unbothered about the ordeal. He remembered how distraught you were retelling your past friendship with him… and how you used to like him. How did you even manage to think that you weren’t pretty enough? Helpful enough? And how did you manage to believe yourself to be the most annoying person in the world? Remembering what you said made him boil.

“I can’t believe that guy’s full of it even outside of basketball, that idiot!”

“Honestly…” you gave a sardonic smile to mock your own weakness. “What do you mean?”

“Huh? Well…” He looked away with a comical pout before facing you again. “If I was him, I wouldn’t take you for granted like that. Who the hell would read dirty magazines in broad daylight like that? Seriously, it’s so funny I could bust a spleen!” His response took on a more mocking tone at the end, and he noticed your eyes taking on an amused light at his reaction.

“Didn’t Kuroko correct you that it’s ‘gut,’ and not a ‘spleen’ way back months ago?”

“What? It’s the same thing.” He crossed his arms with a sigh before he looked at your face again, satisfied to see you slightly cheered up. “Anyways, if I ever become like that type of guy, feel free to hit me or something.”

“The way you went and above at being pissed for my sake, I don’t think I’d have to worry about that, Kagami.” Your smile grew to be teasing and affectionate, and his heart started to race at the sight of it.

“Uh—well…” Kagami averted his gaze, scratching his cheek to hide his flushed cheeks. “It’s just… I think you’re fine the way you are.”

You widened your eyes at his words.

“Really…?”

His heart broke at how truly surprised you were at his candor. He meant it; he really did, and it wasn’t fair for you to live like this just because some prick didn’t have the balls to be nice to you, something you deserved again and again.

“I’ll wake that idiot up for you, I swear it.”

You started laughing at him, catching him completely off-guard as his face started heating up even more. “What—hey! What the hell’s so funny?! I’m trying to be serious!”

“Ah…” you breathed out, wiping out the last of your tears after doubling over for a few minutes. “Don’t worry, Kagami. I believe in you. Beat his ass in the Winter Cup for me, yeah?”

Kagami cleared his throat before he mustered up the courage to give you a gentle head pat (albeit very clumsily).

“Y-Yeah…”

Kagami frowns, wondering if you and Aomine will ever sort things out after this game. Part of him worries that your next encounter with him wouldn’t go very smoothly, knowing how complicated Aomine is as an individual.

Kuroko looks at the floor before continuing, almost as if he read Kagami’s mind. “We should also move to line up, Kagami.”

“... Yeah.”

———

[December 8th]

“Shopping is such a damn pain,” Aomine yawns, holding his box of new basketball shoes under his arm. Momoi, of course, is already next to him ready to scold him into oblivion.

“Did you forget that your feet are humongous? Of course the shops wouldn’t have your size,” she sighs at his childish attitude. “Now you’re going to try this new pastry shop with me! You promised to come with me if I went with you to shop for your shoes.”

“I don’t remember promising anything.”

“Meanie! You did! Now don’t be like that and wait here! I’m going to check the lines and available tables.” And before Aomine can wedge another complaint in, Momoi dashes like her life was on the line, clearly risking everything for a chance to taste the strawberry mille-feuille that the shop was famous for.

Geez… he mentally sighs before deciding to look for a place to sit. She better hurry her ass up.

Luckily for him, there’s a spare empty bench near some trees despite the busy crowds. Taking the opportunity, he plops himself down while settling his shoe box next to him. He looks at the box for a moment. He finally has a rival now, huh. Seirin… he wonders how long it’s been since he last saw you… a couple months? Actually… it’s been almost a year.

Indulging Horikita Mai-chan feels off now, and indulging even more of her featured volumes made him feel worse than if he didn’t read any of them to begin with. The temptation to pick up a new racy issue has declined drastically, and Wakamatsu’s threats of burning them are becoming less dire as the days go by. If he actually burned them now, he probably would remain just as unphased and still not show up to practice. Well, now he’ll consider showing up to practice with or without the threats anyways, now that Kagami can keep him on his toes.

He gives a rueful smile. You’re always meddling in his affairs and ruining the consistent routines he’s set up for himself, even if you’re not physically by his side. That’s just like you to ruin him like this. He frowns. Or maybe you’re doing this on purpose as karma for him being an asshole to you all this time. Maybe you’re an Imayoshi, and you’re playing him like a fiddle?

Nah, he thinks, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. You’re too much of an idiot to think like that. You’re too easy to read, (y/n).

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his navy puffer jacket, and he leans forward on the bench with a long exhale. This isn’t good, he’s been thinking about you way too damn much. It’s actually concerning. Is it because he feels bad about chasing you off? Is it because of the uncertainty of his current standing with you in terms of your friendship? Maybe.

He amended his friendship with Kuroko through basketball, something that he’s very comfortable in navigating about. But you? How is he going to approach you?

He’s too much of a coward to stop by Seirin and look for you and get the answers, though.

“Your grades are absolutely atrocious, what the hell? How are you gonna fare well on the final exams for the semester?”

“That’s… we’ll worry about that when the time… comes.”

“Wrong answer! We can’t have you failing when you’re just a first year!”

“Oh come on, I still have two more years to pick up my slack, don’t I?”

Aomine slightly perks up at the familiar voices, the conversation breaking him out of his own thoughts. He freezes when he sees you.

The sight of you sends his own heart into a frenzy, his heart pounding against his chest so incessantly—painfully. The adrenaline he accumulated from his last game is no match for the compressions he feels at this very moment. Is it because he hasn’t seen you for nearly a year that he feels this way? You look different—older for sure—and definitely just as expressive as you were back in Teiko. You’re wearing your casual clothes and the biggest smile he’s seen from you yet.

But the person who’s making you smile like that isn’t him. His eyes finally stop focusing on you to look at the bigger picture in front of him. His eyes widen further when he registers that it’s none other than Kagami.

“Oh come on,” Kagami sighs at your pout. “Don’t be like that…”

“Look, I’ll even offer you tutoring free of charge, but you can’t neglect your studies.”

“Fine, fine…” Kagami ruffles your hair to appease you. “Just know I’m not that good with these types of things. You’re gonna have to take it easy with me.”

“Obviously! Did you think I was gonna bust out a master theory textbook on you? I’m not heartless! Honestly…” You punch his arm before you smile at him. “Before we get going, how’s your legs? You haven’t pushed yourself too much, have you?”

“Nah, I’m okay now.” He sweatdrops when he sees you raising your brow in suspicion. “I’m serious this time!”

“Pffft,” you snicker at how easy it is to get a reaction out of him. “How about to celebrate your win, we can go try that new pastry shop down the street? I heard the strawberry mille-feuille is really good there… maybe we can both try our hands in making a homemade recipe after?”

“Huh, I haven’t had that in a while, actually. Sounds pretty good.”

“Actually, what types of desserts do Americans even serve over there? We can save a day where we can bake the team an entire stockpile for them to try? Though, I hope Riko doesn’t somehow tamper them with protein powder…”

It’s comical to see Aomine having his eyes so bugged out of their sockets that they look like they might fall out with a nudge. But he doesn’t care—his mind’s racing so much, overclocking and overworking in trying to connect the dots at the scene he’s trying to register and comprehend.

“Where’s the shop again?” Kagami asks, scanning around for any sign that indicates “sweets” and “baked goods.”

“There.” You point ahead of you in a general direction, and Kagami, taking advantage of his height, easily spots the shop. What catches Aomine’s attention is how you wrap your other hand around his arm. What really bothers him though, is how nonchalant Kagami is at your touch.

“Come on.” Kagami snakes his hand to gently encapsulate your hand, the same one that casually wrapped around his arm moments earlier. Aomine’s breath gets caught in his throat, watching you two like a hawk. Kagami tugs your hand behind him as he leads you through the crowd, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It shouldn’t be natural, though. It shouldn’t be Kagami holding your hand. It should’ve been—

(“And I’m not the guy for you, either.”)

Yeah, Aomine knows that he sure as hell ain’t the guy for you. But Kagami? Of all people? Aomine grits his teeth watching you two. He’s sure as hell that Kagami isn’t the one for you either. He would even rather prefer Kuroko being by your side like this than him… But he can’t deny how Kagami does a better job at making you happier than he himself could ever do. You’re in good hands, and he doesn’t have to worry about any potential asshats bothering you at Seirin, or anywhere for that matter from now on.

So why… Why does his heart continue to pound so hard when he sees how gentle his rival is with you? Why isn’t his chest letting up? Why does he feel like his windpipes are constricted? His mouth is parted like a fish, his body motionless, his new shoes forgotten. He doesn’t move until you’re no longer in his line of vision, completely swallowed up by the crowded lines and mobs of other shoppers.

Did Tetsu know about this?

He finally closes his mouth, allowing himself to swallow, though his mouth is impossibly too heavy and dry to do so comfortably. Still leaned forward, he rests his elbows on his knees, his eyes opting to stare at the cracks and dried gum. His brain’s had enough from all the processing.

What the hell’s wrong with me?

This isn’t like him. You’re dating Kagami. So what? And he’s not a bad guy. He still has you as a friend, and it’s not like he didn’t lose you for good�� right?

His body contradicts his rationalizing when his hand tingles against his will… as if it wants to be held by you. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, gritting his teeth before giving a despondent chuckle.

I’m pathetic, aren’t I… all this time, I’ve never realized that…

He sees a flash of your clothes before you disappear around the block, holding your dessert box to-go while still holding hands with Kagami.

… that what I wanted was…

“Dai-chan!” Momoi races to him after emerging from the crowd that you just came out of earlier. He looks up to face her. “I finally got myself their house special! Luckily for you, I got another one before they sold out! Here, be grateful!”

She hands him a daintily packaged box with a fork, and he opens it to face the popular strawberry mille-feuille. He stares at it.

“Uh… is there something wrong?” Momoi tilts her head at his unusual lack of scathing comments, slightly unnerved at his extended silence. Aomine stares at the dessert for a second longer before looking up to see her face contorting into an expression of worry. He averts his gaze.

(“Because I know you’re never honest about your feelings!”)

“... It’s nothing.”

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maxladcomics · 3 years ago

Note

How am I supposed to read all your stuff if I'm on mobile?! 😭 I always seem to get lost in the sauce- I mean- never ending comic hoops, and yet I'm certain that some comics are out of the chain, so I can never see them. Is there an order to the madness? I've tried to find one on my own, but it never ends! Everything is a scrambled mess in my brain and most of the characters I see make no sense to me (other than, hey, this skeleton looks really cool! So on the basic level) because I have no backstory for them. So... What should I do? I'm starting to lose hope here... Jk, but still, it's best to say that my brain is mush.

How do I see ~everything~ ever, in the most efficient manner possible?

Also, I just to be certain that you know I'm not flaming you- I love your art, even if most of it doesn't make much sense to me- but even still! I love it anyway- i just want to be in the know lol. I've been seeing your comics on and off for years I'd say- but not in any particular order, or with any logic. I feel like I'm trying to craft multiple intricate puzzles, but all of them are in the same box- but at the same time some random (great) person shows up and starts taking some of the pieces and putting them in other boxes, then adds more, also all great intricate pieces, then adds some sick bonus art to the pile- and I'm also at the same time, really, really bad a puzzles. That's the sort of sheitsuation I'm in. I have no idea how to properly use tumbler (I thought that people could post stuff to a blogs wall- I know now- sorta- that that's not how it works, but the remnants of my stupidity still remain up to this very day), and I also didn't know how to post links- so, you could probably assume why that might be a problem- just an endless supply of wack that really serves to throw my tiny pea brain for a loop.

So, I guess I'm trying to ask this, the tldr if you will: I want to read all of your stuff, but don't really know how. How do I do the do?

(Also, I've been awake for like 26 ish hours, so please forgive me for this- my brain is very frazzled)

I checked tumblr to see 99+ notes AND IM SO SORRY YOU'VE BEEN LOST FOR SO LONG- pfff

Also thank you, I 'secretly' hope that when you say about pieces and boxes and more boxes and intricate pieces that you've managed to spot some 'super secret' foreshadowing I've thrown here and there and just need some extra pages to figure it out.

I'm not sure if it works on mobile anymore because I haven't checked in around a year or two?

but this link to my comics list should work?

I also post my comics on deviantart but I doubt that's any better lol.

ANYWAY. That link is for my main storyline comics. As far as I know, most of the comics are based in the same multiverse storyline (except hungerswap, Don't come back, and maybe Science)

The other comics I do are also linked in there but I'll link them here as well

Shenanigans (as far as I remember) have no foreshadowing and is generally dumb stuff for fun. It's in order of when I posted them. So the oldest is at the top, and newest is on the bottom. YOU CAN SEE MY ART GROW ALONG THE WAY lol.

Random comics are here

Random comics, are comics that can make you either laugh or cry, or feel like there's someone standing right behind you in a dark room. A lot of my favourite comics are in this one lol and I think there's some foreshadowing, too!

...I'm lying. There's a good chance there's foreshadowing crawling everywhere through both random comics AND shenanigans. I just don't remember all of them.

There might be some comics missing or deleted, but if a "Next" or "Previous" on a comic page sends you on a loop, let me know and I can fix it!

Edit: Forgot to also link my AU blogs for Undercurrent and Fellswap

#maxask #long post #maxramble

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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago

Text

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery: Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb.

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue. “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

#my writing #my fics #smut fic #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee smut #gwilym lee imagine #this has been half written in my drafts for much too long now #but im very happy to be able to finally post it!#just got one more thing to write for this advent countdown #which i'll try and knock off after i get back from church #so that its ready to go in the morning #anyway #hope ya'll like this #i might kind of love writing pretty dumb boys #blurb advent 2020

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shadowed-artist · 3 years ago

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Hi there! I really love your animatics and I hadn't realised that you had a Tumblr until today. Your art is freaking gorgeous! It's kinda messy and cute and it's just really great all around, awesome work. And your colouring is really pretty do. What do you use to draw/make your animatics? I want to make one as well, but I am *very much* an amateur with no digital art programs, tablets or pens. So what do you use and how did you go from art to animatics? Thank you for your time.

Thank you so much! This made my day

I use firealpaca for drawing and iMovie for putting the animatics together. I regretfully don't know the name of my drawing tablet because I got it as a Christmas present a few years ago and have since forgotten what kind it is (I also lost the box. whoops)

That's awesome that you want to make an animatic! They are time consuming, but it's honestly really fulfilling to look at the finished product and say "I MADE that!"

How I made the switch from art to animatic? Honestly, they are very similar (at least, the way I do animatics). My animatics are just many pieces of art stitched together in time with the song, so there wasn't really a technical process I had to switch from. I treat each frame as a simple sketch, then I just draw a lot of them

The biggest challenge of doing animatics is simply how time consuming they are and how many drawings you physically have to do. My "Defying Gravity" one used 218 drawings, not counting repeated frames, whereas my "Must have been the wind" animatic only took 79 drawings. The more details you want (and the longer the song), the more frames you have to draw.

If I were to do polished frames with proper line art it would probably take longer, but like you said, my style is "messy and cute" so I can get away with not being very precise. (Pro tip: it is much faster drawing hands if they are just vague hand-like shapes lol).

You say you have no digital stuff, so I'm assuming you'd want to use pencil and paper? I'm not gonna lie, doing an animatic that way is hard. I tried doing it a while back (before I got my tablet) and I never finished because I got impatient. (The benefit of working digitally is that you don't have to redraw extremely similar poses. You can copy layers, erase expressions, redraw an arm, and boom. New frame. It saves a ton of time)

That being said, try your best and see how it turns out! If my guess is correct and you're going to use pencil and paper, I suggest starting with something short (maybe a tiktok or vine audio?) just so you can get a feel for the process and see whether you can handle doing a longer song using that method

Most important advice I can give: Your style will evolve as you get more practice, so be kind to yourself if your first attempt doesn't look the way you want it to. I'm STILL figuring out how to shade properly, and that is something I will only learn with time. As they say, practice makes perfect

Did this help at all? I've been very sleepy all day and it's kind of late, but I wanted to respond before I went to bed. Hopefully something here is useful, best of luck!

(And if you DO end up making an animatic, feel free to send me the link or tag me in it! I'd love you see what you come up with!)

#oh I rambled HARD I am so sorry if you wanted a short response

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seijuurouxryuu · 4 years ago

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apart as we may, i still feel you here

Title: apart as we may, i still feel you here Author: Shiro (TeitoxAkashi [AO3]/ seijuurouxryuu [tumblr]) Rating: T Pairing: Fon/ Reborn; brief Byakuran/Rokudo Mukuro Event: @khrrarepairweek Prompts: Alpha/Beta/Omega AU | Mental Bond/Mental Link Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warning

Day 8: Earth/Flameless Day

Fon was a beta through and through despite looking like an alpha. He, in his lithe yet muscular body, had always been mistaken as an alpha throughout his years since childhood. His parents expected him to be an alpha, his grandparents expected him to be an alpha, heck even his neighbours expected him to be an alpha.

He never felt like an alpha though, not even before he was classified as a beta. He just felt normal. Like a normal person with blood flowing through his veins.

So no, he never identified himself as anything else but a human--a beta.

AO3

Being a beta wasn't hard; you wouldn't have to undergo a rut like an alpha would, or a heat like an omega would regularly. It was normal, as normal as it can be.

But it can be hard for a beta to survive in the society full of dominance by Alphas and Omega.

He never felt like an alpha though, not even before he was classified as a beta. He just felt normal. Like a normal person with blood flowing through his veins.

So no, he never identified himself as anything else but a human--a beta.

He sighed as he fixed his face mask properly, hat pulled down. People were staring at him again because of his fit and tall stature. He wasn't bragging or anything, but gene was really a joke. He, a beta, had the height and fitness of an alpha, all gained from his hard work and training. And yet a lot of people first thought it was because he was an alpha when he was anything but.

Maybe he should just put up a sign saying 'I'm a beta' to get people off his back. (A lot of them maybe came for his figure, but 99% of them came because the thought he was an alpha.)

He didn't have any discrimination against alphas, omegas or even betas like some betas would have complexes about it, he just hated how people thought all the fruit of his hard works were all because of his secondary gender. And they even got it wrong. It was fucking hilarious, if you ask him. And frustrating. God-fucking-damn frustrating.

Shaking his head, Fon pushed away all the irritation to the back of his mind. He had work to do, even if said work annoys him even further. Tapping his card on the sensor, he pulled the door open, making a beeline to the office as he nodded to the passing students. He was a history lecturer in this... Fancy university that should be sued for capitalism. Honestly, too much money was used on advertisement and not enough was supplied to improve facilities for the students and lecturers. Really, capitalists should die.

Fon sighed in relief once he safely made it to his office without anyone stopping him. However, when he stepped foot into it, he immediately regretted it.

The smell of an alpha and omega pheromones was so thick he felt nauseous.

Thank god for his mask.

He immediately backed out and pinched the bridge of his nose. Mukuro and Byakuran were at it again. He shared the same office with them for a few years now, and while they were good (questionable) colleagues, god forbid they flirt in front of Fon. They had been going at it since Mukuro started working and Byakuran kept trying to seduce him. Fon rooted for them, but fuck if he had to suffer another day smelling their pheromones, he would lock them up in a room for a week.

Or just outright end them, whichever comes first.

He huffed. At least they finally got together. Hopefully they'd learn some decency soon.

Maybe they won't.

Fon so kindly locked up the room and messaged Byakuran.

"I helped you lock the office door. You owe me one :)"

Fon pulled out his phone to look at the time and paused. No mails, that was normal. He smiled at the background image he had set, stress dissipating. He missed his beloved, even if he had just left home about... An hour ago. An hour too long actually.

A loud moan reverberated out from the office.

Fon's smile was gone and he wanted nothing more than snap someone's dick in half.

He held himself back and did some breathing exercise, turning around and heading straight to the lecture halls. He could tell, it was going to be a damned long day.

For once, his lectures were quiet. Usually, his students would be engaging, enthusiastically answer his questions and pull him into debates about whether a historical figure was stupid or /stupid/. However, aside from timidly answering him when prompted, none of them spoke much. He would have asked if they were alright, but he wasn't in the mood so it was good news for him.

Thankfully, with his running short fuse, it was finally his last class of the day. Eager to end it and return home to his beloved, he was even more scary with his smile that said 'Don't Ask'.

Suddenly, he smelled blood. It wasn't his blood, of course, and neither it was his students’ blood. No, it was more of a psychological thing.

Fon's mouth snapped shut as he stared blankly into space.

He 'heard' his beloved grumbles and whimpers.

When he came back to reality, he was already running out of campus and to his car, books and other stuffs left behind with a quick instructions to the TA, which he didn't even remember what it was.

In record time, he was in his car and driving home.

'Love?' He called out in his mind. 'Are you alright?'

He could still smell blood, but it was faint now. He felt his spouse tensing at the other end of their bond before hearing a sigh.

'Did you leave.' A statement rather than question.

Fon stayed quiet.

'I'm fine.'

'I'll arrive in 5.'

'Go back to work, Fon.'

'No.'

Another sigh. '... Pick up coffee for me.'

Fon smiled and made a minute detour.

When Fon arrived home, he was attacked by an onslaught of pheromones. The one and only he loved and would react to despite being a beta. Breathing in deeply, all the crankiness he brewed throughout the day disappeared without a trace. "I'm home." He announced loudly, toeing off his shoes and rushed in, not even bothered to arrange it properly. It was fine, he had more important thing to attend to.

Putting the coffee on the coffee table, he looked around and found that his love was nowhere to be found. He followed the trial of smell back to their bedroom. The door was halfway closed, leaving a glimpse of who was inside and their state. Fon took it all in with a fond smile.

Knocking gently on the door, he softly asked, "Can I come in?"

He had to stop himself from laughing when a head of messy hair popped out from the neat nest made of their unwashed laundry, cushions, bolsters and pillows. Even the Flareon and Umbreon plushies they had were not spared. It was so cute.

Reborn gave him a look and grunted. "Yes. Take off your clothes and give me."

Fon chuckled, walked in and started stripping. He stood outside the nest, handing his clothes for Reborn to examine. He patiently waited for the results outside of the nest, smiling as he watched Reborn scrunitize his clothes.

"Why does it smell like that marshmallow bastard?" Reborn growled and Fon couldn't help but shuddered. He loved how Reborn cusses.

"He and Mukuro, well, you know."

Reborn scoffed. "Should've known that that two horny asses couldn't keep their pants on." He snarked and stuffed those clothes under the pile to erase and replace the smell with his scent. He then turned and squinted at Fon again.

"Bend down" Fon obediently did as ordered, careful not to overstep the boundaries and bared his neck for Reborn. Reborn leaned in and sniffed purring in possessive delight that no other scent stuck to his neck. In fact, Fon had wiped down his neck with wet wipes when he was buying coffee but Reborn didn't need to know lest he took it differently. (He knew no one touched his neck, not that anyone dared to, but just in case someone else's scent stuck to him.)

Reborn nosed his neck once and nipped at the permanent mark he made on Fon, causing the latter to shudder again. There was another purr, but it came from Fon himself. Fon loved how Reborn could take ownership of him even if he couldn't do it to Reborn. He loved how he always bit that mark, lapping lovingly at it and kissing them. He loved seeing it in the mirror, loved touching it and feeling it throb faintly.

He loved just the same that he could mark Reborn again and again since he could only mark temporarily, loved biting into the skin, tasting the blood and Reborn keening at the bites. Fon loved everything about being a beta who fell for a possessive omega.

Reborn's eyes were golden black when he pulled back, glinting. He shuffled back slightly and let Fon, who was in nothing but his boxers, join him in his nest. "Come in." He said, giving consent to his loved.

Fon's eyes shone and he carefully stepped over the boundaries, taking care not to accidentally kick down the walls of clothes. He settled in besides Reborn and sighed in relief at the lovely pheromones that surrounded him, making him all relaxed and safe.

Reborn quickly attached to him burying his face onto the crook of his shoulders, purring louder. Fon wrapped his arms around him and turned slightly to kiss his forehead, joining him in purring. He suddenly laughed. "I think I know why I was so cranky today."

Reborn made a questioning sound, all but melting into his arms. "Your heat affected me. I could feel it through our bond."

Reborn bit him. "Sucks to be you, then. I was busy nesting and you had to be away."

Fon whined, nuzzling against him as he tightened his hold around him. "I thought it is tomorrow, that was why I planned to settle my leaves today."

"Well, it came early."

Fon hummed. "I'm glad it came early. I can keep you company longer." He said lowly into Reborn's ears. "Speaking of which, why did I smell your blood just now?"

He felt Reborn tensing against him and immediately drew comforting patterns on his back, purring louder to comfort him. "I don't mean anything, I'm just a little worried..."

Reborn slowly relaxed as Fon patiently waited for his answers without rushing him. In fact, if Reborn didn't want to speak of it, he wouldn't force him to say either. "... I accidentally broke a nail."

A sharp scratch on his chest made Fon hissed softly. He looked down and grabbed the hand, pulling it up to see the broken nail. It was broken, yes, but it wasn't serious thankfully. However, it hurt Fon's heart to see the redness at the edge, feeling the pain even though it wasn't his wound.

He kissed the finger and cooed. "Oh, baby. It must've been painful." He kissed again.

Reborn snorted, but by the purrs he sounded happy that Fon was worried about him. "It's nothing. I can take more than this, you know that."

Fon nodded, rubbing and cuddling him closer. "Uhum, I know. You're the strongest person I ever know, and I'm so happy that you're mine. You worked so hard and surpassed everyone's expectation. You proved everyone wrong about how you aren't limited to anything just because you're an omega, and I'm so proud of you. I love you, Reborn. I love you so, so much." He gave him a few kisses in the mouth before Reborn hummed into his lips and opened his mouth.

"Hmn, love you too. You aren't an alpha, but you are so much better than one. You don't limit yourself even if you're a beta too, and I'm proud of you too. In fact, I'm so proud that you don't depreciate yourself just because of that." Reborn said into his mouth, slow as they made out.

Fon laughed and kissed him harder, heart swelling in happiness and love. Reborn bit his lips for laughing but was chuckling himself too.

"Sleep, babe. I'm sleepy." Reborn nudged his forehead against Fon's. "We can do other things when we wake up."

Fon agreed, kissing his nose and eyelids. "Okay, sweet dreams, love."

Reborn purred.

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A/N: LAST DAY!!! THANK YOU TO THE MODS OF KHR RAREPAIR WEEK FOR THEIR HARD WORK AND THANKS TO YOU GUYS FOR READING MY STORIES

I missed a day for this year's event, but still!! I managed to do 7!!! Which was beyond my expectation since I was ded because of finals, which clashed with the beginning of this event.

Onto the story! Basically Alphas and Omegas can make permanent mark on anyone else, while Beta can only do temporary ones. I just love the concept of nesting so when I saw Day 8's theme I went bLING

I don't like how some omegaverse stories I have written has this... thing with A and O being the rarest and then most treasured. I like it better if regardless of being A, O or B, everyone is of the same, equal and fair. Of course, some of the laws should cater more for A and O since they have ruts and heats but still? No discrimination.

Although, the discrepancy here is that most O and B still prefers A because, well, genes.

But that's just the background I thought up of; there's no need for that since all you need to know is that Reborn NESTED and Fon LOVED HIM.

Cranky Fon is lovely Fon :DDDD

anyways THANKS FOR READING AGAIN! HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED MY ENTRIES THIS YEAR!!! SEE YOU NEXT TIME

[I apologize for any grammar, spellings, etc. etc. mistakes]

#KHR #Katekyo Hitman Reborn #khrrarepairweek2021 #Reborn #Fon #Fluff #My Writings

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infinite-rabbits · 5 years ago

Text

Emergency: Please help

So this happened yesterday. I made a few posts of it here and was messing around on tumblr to distract myself from all of the stress, but now the seriousness of the situation is really hitting us.

My roommate and I are both out of work due to Corvid-19. We’re not sure if we’re getting paid for our time away and there isn’t much communication from our jobs. Yesterday we got hit hard enough from someone who was gunning it out of a parking lot that they totaled the car. I know this doesn’t look like a lot of damage, but apparently the frame is completely messed up and the insurance company is going to take the car and possibly give us enough to replace it??

The worst part about this is that we had barely enough money to last over the next two months being out of work. We had rent covered, food, and bills once we pooled our money together.

But now we have to loose a huge chunk of that money because he has to pay the deductible on the insurance.

So I’m going to do what I really wished I would never have to do. I have to ask for your help. Please, if you can donate anything at all, doesn’t matter how big or little it is, you can send it to me through my Ko-Fi: HERE Or you can IM me and I can give you the address my paypal is linked to. If you can’t donate, please please please just reblog this. The more people see it, the better.

Thank you for any help you can give, little or small, it means the world to us.

Full Story of what happened under the cut:

So uh... we ran out of bread last night and we're close to being out of PB&J. This morning we decided to go out and get some more because, well, it's hard to get ahold of because everyone's panicking and it's one of the main things in our diet right now. The roomie and I headed for Walmart, and while we were on a 2-lane road in the left lane, some douchenozzle shoves his way through the heavy traffic out of a parking-lot and rams us on my side. We weren't even going that fast. We were actually coming up to a stop-light, so my roomie was slowing down. He hit us hard enough to make us spin-out and do a full 180degree turn. The back passenger door was absolutely wrecked and I was lucky he didn't hit MY door, but because he hit my side, I'm really starting to hurt now. The back driver wheel hit the median while we spun and it actually hit so hard that it knocked the wheel itself off of the rim and scraped the metal. Somehow we didn't hit another car and we wound up in the right-hand lane completely turned around and facing the wrong direction. I was SO pissed that I got out of the car and screamed at the guy. Both of us were shaking and I was choking because when he hit us, some white stuff flew into the car and I breathed it in. Still kinda choking on it. (Found out later it was probably the stirofoam that was under his bumper.) I manage to kinda stop traffic enough for us to get the car out of the lane and into the parking lot beside us, after which we realized that we couldn't drive any further because of the wheel being messed up. He stayed in the median and called for someone while we called the cops and the insurance company. Then I noticed there was a damn kid in his car. She was like, 2-3 years old and didn't look like she'd been strapped in because she was just climbing from the back to the front seat to see what was going on. He sped through fucking traffic and t-boned us with a kid in the back seat. This whole time, he's over there refusing to come and talk to us until someone else shows up. Turns out, he needs a translator. That's fine. In our area we get a lot of tourists so I just assumed he wasn't from around here. I would have assumed his car was a rental if it hadn't been for the brand new paper license plate. They get their car into the parking lot too and his bumper is all but falling off. A lady shows up to take care of the kid, which seems fine. But then another guy shows up. Then another guy. And Grandma shows up too. For some reason the whole family shows up and are hanging around while we wait for the cop. Normally I wouldn't care, but being surrounded by this many people while I'm already anxious was a bit much for me and made me uncomfortable. I'd already called a friend and cried over the phone with her and being surrounded made me feel stressed. Finally the cop shows up, gets our stories and our information, then goes into his car for basically an hour to have to fill everything out and get it all in order. Luckily we just get given a sheet of paper with all of the information we need on it. Then he glances at them and says to us, "They're gonna be pissed." He wound up getting a ticket among who knows what else because of his reckless driving. The cop leaves and they're visibly angry. Then one of the guys who showed up approaches us. Something about him immediately rubbed me the wrong way, like I got a bad vibe from him. He asks us if we're alright, and I tell him no because our car's wrecked and I'm starting to hurt. Then he tries to get us to lie. Like the dude straight up look sat my roommate and says, "If they ask what happened, tell them--" I have NEVER cut someone off so fast before. I told him: " NO. If they ask, we are going to tell them EXACTLY what happened." And this douche has the NERVE to say: "Well next time you really shouldn't be going so fast. Then you can stop when something like this happens." Like, he's legit trying to turn this around to be my roomie's fault. Keep in mind: we were coming up to a stop light. We were actively slowing down. The speed limit in there is 45. My roomie couldn't have possibly been going more than 35 at the absolute most, and even that's pushing it. I just GLARE at this guy and say: "NO. Even the COP said WE HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY. HE hit US. You need to walk away." I'm... I'm tiny. I'm not even fully 5'6" and I'm sitting here in my stupid Jurassic Park tank top and hole-filled shorts just glaring daggers at this guy. Don't you dare come at me with your stupid scorpion gold chain necklace thinking you're all big and bad and thinking you're going to intimidate me when you're outright coming after my roommate. I'm a wuss when someone comes after ME and I'm by myself, but you put me in a room with people I care about and have someone go after them? All bets are off. Thankfully he just got pissed off and turned away. The whole family climbed into the back of their other van except for like two who went into the translator's car, and they all drove off. For like an hour. We were left sitting there trying to contact the insurance company again, making sure they got all of the files they needed, making sure they got their statements, and figuring out if it was getting towed tonight or not. Then the translator and one of the other guys show up and start messing with their van. First they back it up...and the bumper nearly completely falls off. Then they sit there for a few minutes and try to get it on. The guy driving it goes very slowly out of the parking lot, leaving his entire front in the right-hand lane for some reason while he's waiting to go and then finally does. The other guy on the other hand almost causes another accident. So he's behind a truck that's also waiting to turn out. When the truck goes to pull out, this dumbass SLAMS down on his gas, nearly rear-ends the truck, slams on his breaks, and then once the truck is out of the way, he zooms out of the parking lot without properly looking to make sure no one else is coming. I really don't understand it. But from the looks of things, they probably aren't going to be calling their own insurance company. The car wasn't even registered under the guy that rammed us. It was someone else's name of the same address. So he just wrecked someone else's newly bought car. All of it sucks, my roommate's car is totaled and we are gonna see if we're getting any money for it tomorrow, and I'm in pain so the insurance company is gonna have to send me a doctor over all of this. We're out $500 for the deductible and I'm.... honestly really frustrated. All of this because of Bread, Peanutbutter, and Jelly. Thankfully a friend of ours came to pick us up and also brought us those three things, but now the adrenaline is starting to wear off and I'm getting *really* tired. I'm going to get myself some coffee and try my best to focus on the one-shot I started before the crash just to keep myself awake for now. For the most part I was typing all of this here because it's a safe place to store the information in case I forget anything. But also I kinda wanted to let you guys know why I hadn't posted anything yet. I was saying I wanted to do one short-story a day and I fell behind yesterday because I was doing character-designs for one of the other stories. So I feel guilty falling behind today too. Even if I do have a good reason for it. Stay safe out there, everyone. It's getting really crazy.

#psa #emergency #money emergency #car accident #please help

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lavenderek · 4 years ago

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hi, A/3 volunteer back again! i hope i can answer your questions properly, but i’m on mobile so sorry if i get a bit confused. it’s also going to be quite long but i hope you can figure out which questions i’m replying to. let me know if you need any more clarification!

1 - as tag wranglers, we don’t moderate content via deletion, etc - we just move fics into the correct tags, and it’s typically on a fandom basis (for example, i might solely wrangle for something like the supernatural fandom only). i’ve never come across ‘problematic’ tags since most of the time, it’s just sorting tags into like... more general tags? so example - someone tags a fic with ‘kinda fluffy kinda angsty’. we would then kind of make it so that tag redirects to ‘fluff with angst’, even though it still appears as the original tag on the fic. does that make sense? i’m also a little unsure of the other questions you had here - which is totally my fault, i’m in the middle of writing an essay for uni that needs to be in in like... 12 hours and my brain is frazzled - but if you were asking about a situation where if i was concerned that a single user had a collection of fics that were all entirely based upon something illegal and reported their entire account to mods, would it be deleted - i’m not sure. tag wranglers are kind of like low-level moderators, and we’re not what would typically be thought of as moderators since we simply reorganise content versus actually removing it. since the reporting process is typically through the site itself and is handled by an entirely separate team, i cant speak for how they think or what their process is.

2 - it’s up to our judgement as to if we want to report it, but again, the tags we wrangle are VERY general. tags like ‘dead dove don’t eat’ and stuff that are typically full of polarising content arent something i’ve come across, because i think they make up a minority of most fandoms when put against tags like ‘fluff’ and ‘angst’ and even stuff like ‘chocolate’, lmao. i’m not certain what happens when a report is processed and the fic is found to be removable - what i do know though is that with fics that are seen as breaking specific laws (i.e depictions of CSA, slander, etc) mods are often a lot more hard-handed for several reasons (reputation both within the community and in terms of the fact they could very much get in legal trouble). again though, i’m a low-level moderator and don’t see that side of the process. however, if i report something and it’s not taken down, i’m not implicated in any way. it’s been a while since i’ve been on the site and reported anything so i’m not entirely certain if reporting is 100% anonymous or if you have to supply details like email, but i think if you DO supply things, it’s to ensure you aren’t mass-reporting someone (bc i think that counts as targeted harassment). email is also possible to fake, so i think you can make the process anonymous if you want to. as for how often i personally report fic - not often. i’m a CSA victim (which is why this topic is touchy for me tbh), and i don’t like to go through the process because i find it arduous - you have to give an explanation as to why you’re reporting the fic, and i find it triggering at times. i’ve also never been in a position where i have found a fic while actively volunteering that i feel has been necessary to report, so i can’t speak for that either. all of that being said - i’ve heard of and seen on one occasion fics and entire accounts be deleted for harassment/slander - in particular, i’ve heard multiple times that accounts dedicated to purposely like... making fun of? or like technically harassing? kpop boy group members have been taken down because even though their content is ‘technically’ fanfiction, it’s obviously just there to incite hatred against a specific person. so, imo, if mods are quick on taking down accounts obviously run by 14 year olds in fandom drama writing numerous fics where boyband member A calls boyband member B stupid and tells him nobody likes him, i think they’re very likely just as serious about taking down more serious content. that’s just my opinion and my personal experience though, and it’s distinct from my volunteering.

overall, on the whole topic of CSA on the website - it’s really tough even just as a basic content moderator. there’s lots of reasons as to why people post it, and though people are very obviously welcome and encouraged to think critically about everything, it’s a fact that the topic is really really difficult to manoeuvre (culture, who is posting it, when was it posted, why it’s being posted aka vent fics, etc). as i said, i’m a CSA victim myself, so i understand the frustration, but it’s too nuanced and difficult a topic to be able to say ‘ban it all’. however, i do think the site is doing their best to crack down on stuff that is very obviously on there for one specific reason, and i also think generally, they’re changing things so people are able and sometimes encouraged to anonymise themselves by not giving any profile info and to protect themselves by turning off comments completely, etc. i find that you can make it really easy to curate your posting experience so that essentially, you can post but nobody can really interact.

3 - i like tag wrangling! i got into it because i saw a position on the front page of the site and decided to go for it. it wasn’t very taxing to get into and you don’t have to put much work in - a couple of hours a week is enough, and they’re understanding about work/uni/etc. it’s easy to meet other people through volunteering, and they ensure everyone is over 18. i don’t read through fic myself - just through tags, and then i sort them into their proper places. if something is tagged wrong, we don’t get in touch with the author, we just do our best to reorganise the tag so it redirects into the correct place - again, for instance, if someone writes a fantasy AU that they tag with ‘high fantasy prince/princess AU’ and that tag doesn’t exist, we would sort it into the main tag for a royalty AU or something like that. re: monetisation of fics: technically, monetised content is not allowed on A/3 - if someone is advertising their patreon or kofi in their authors notes or profile, you’re supposed to report it just as a general user. i think it’s because it puts the site at risk of being sued or something? but as a low level mod, i don’t HAVE to report these things unless i see them while i’m tag wrangling (aka i see a tag like ‘my patreon is XYZ!!!!! send me money!!!!!!’) and i personally don’t report monetised fics because ... i don’t find it a prominent issue, lmao. people are also learning to avoid it by being like this is my tumblr or this is my twitter, and when you click on their social media they link their patreon or whatever There instead. also, idk who decided the colour scheme! i think it was just like a generally agreed upon thing with the site designers. i also think there’s been convo for a few years about dark modes and stuff on the site, but i’m pretty sure the site has to get a few more things out of the way before they’ll prioritise that (i know they’re trying to work on a better moderating system for things like spam and harassment atm bc the spam filter absolutely sucks dick lol). i’ll totally drop a mention like WOW, wouldnt it be AMAZING if we could have this SPECIFIC COLOUR SCHEME, tho <3

thank you so much for responding!!! this is really cool to know, i've never even seen a post by an a*3 worker before so you're a total unicorn right now

heh uni-corn because you're in uni. sorry i'm tired too

good luck on your paper!

#haters #who is this even #long post

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anxiouslynumbme · 5 years ago

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Tell Me It’s Okay: Chapter 2

- Daniel’s thoughts as he watched over Daisy. Ao3

(A repost, ‘cause Tumblr likes to delete my stuff from tags.)

___________________________________________

It wasn't subtle.

The way she had snuck up on him. Well, she had crept in through a time-travelling vessel, so no, nothing about how she'd barged in or how she made him feel was subtle. Irritation, intrigue, attraction. Those had been the prominent emotions Daniel had experienced when he'd first met her.

Note he'd said prominent, there were a whole bunch of feelings that had come upon meeting Daisy Johnson.

Suspicion, apprehension, worry...because who the hell was she?

Intimidation. Daniel'd felt intimidated. Not a lick of embarrassment or fear that she had been caught snooping around his office as she'd casually stood up and sauntered toward him, and Daniel wouldn't lie and say he hadn't let his eyes wander very discreetly all over her. Daisy hadn't noticed, after all, Daniel was a gentleman, and he'd mastered the art of appreciating a woman's figure without making them uncomfortable or coming off as a creep.

Skepticism. Daniel was dubious and maybe a little proud, as she'd listed his past missions. A pit of inexplicable nerves had gathered in his stomach, listening to this mysterious, beautiful stranger speak of his work. She had done it nonchalantly too, as though she was unaffected and unimpressed by his accomplishments.

Relief and vindication, Daniel had been glad that she wasn't someone he'd needed to fight off. Not only that, but she'd confirmed his theory. He was proven right and that was always a booster, not to his ego, but mostly to his spirits. Daniel had been after Hydra for a while, positive of their infiltration, and more than ready to take them down. And when daisy had told him he wasn't crazy, he'd felt vindicated. Granted, she'd lied about being CIA, but the affirmation was much appreciated, nonetheless.

Trust. Daniel trusted her. It wasn't something he could properly explain, but something about her sang, 'trust me', and he had. He hadn't questioned it when she'd said she was CIA, and then when it turned out she was a fellow Agent. Objectively, it might had been naive of him. But Daniel trusted himself more than anyone, and he'd been doing this for so long not to trust his instincts. And his instincts had told him to trust Daisy. And they didn't stir him wrong.

Disappointment. Because right after he'd decided to believe her, Coulson and her team had locked him up, and Daniel didn't like that he'd doubted his gut and intuition. And he'd even felt just a bit sad, because more that anything Daniel had wanted to be right about her.

Safe. Daniel hadn't been able to breathe, a hand wrapped so tightly around his neck, he'd felt it trying to tear through his throat, his lungs had screamed for oxygen. And then, May I cut in? Daisy'd said wittily, before socking the damn woman away from him, and bringing him back to safety. You again, he'd gasped, actually thankful and happy to see her. Told you we were the good guys. And just like that, he trusted her again.

It was all just a fraction of what Daniel had experienced when Daisy had walked into his life. Because of course, it got more confusing as he got to know her. Confusing in the best and most enticing of ways.

Daniel fidgeted slightly on his chair, craning his neck before resting his head back again, his eyes still on her. He briefly wondered to himself, if he were being a little creepy. But Daniel just wanted to make sure she got the rest she needed this time, no interruptions. And it didn't exactly hurt to look at her.

Daniel was starting to feel many things around her. For example, the mere fact of wanting to be around her - all the time. Out of everyone, for whatever reason, Daniel felt most comfortable with her. It was quite a strange thing to feel this kind of ease around someone he didn't know for long, yet there was always this nervous energy thrumming through him whenever she was near. An excitement. . .a longing. Something Daniel hadn't felt in quite sometime.

But Daniel wasn't stupid, he was also not in the business of lying to himself. He was falling. Fast and hard.

And this time was different, he could just tell. Not just because of his circumstances, but because it was her, it was Daisy, and in just a short amount of time, Daniel knew everything about her was utterly unique, including his feelings towards her. This way he was starting to feel about her felt new somehow, something in him just recognized something special in her. And Daniel really wanted to explore it further. But Daniel also couldn't deny that it felt like he was setting himself up for failure. They were literally from two different times, different worlds, really. And he immediately felt the need to shut down any insane desires and abrupt hopes his heart was feeling.

But his heart never cared for logic. And Daniel had already felt it anyway.

Connection. There was something that linked him to Daisy, even though she didn't talk much and was always choosing her words carefully around him. But it was peculiar how it seemed Daniel knew what she had been through without her having to say a word. It was in her eyes, he believed. The way she carried herself, even the way she handled fights. So alert, so ready to go into battle without a second thought to herself and her well-being. And it bothered Daniel as much as it impressed him. The second he'd told her about Hydra's effect on his life, and he had been met with silence, Daniel knew they had done much worse to her.

And Daniel had a feeling that what Daisy'd told him before going into the chamber, was just a glimpse into the pain that had been inflicted on her over the years.

Protectiveness. Daniel had thought he was only doing his job when he had walked up and pretended to be her fiancée, he was an Agent and it was his duty to be quick on his feet. But Daniel couldn't stop his protective nature from springing up. He'd hated the way Malick was talking to her, the way he'd looked at her. And if he were being honest, Daniel hadn't really thought about it before doing it, he was just glad that Daisy hadn't taken offense to his strategy, because Daniel was well-aware she could handle herself; It just was the easiest and most discreet way to get rid of Gideon.

Awe. He was awed and very impressed. It didn't take Daniel long to recognize just how impressive Daisy was, and that was before he'd learned about her powers, she was remarkable all on her own. But then she'd raised her palm just an inch, and literally blew away two men across the street. It wasn't a serum, she'd told him, and Daniel had questions firing left and right in his brain. But the thing he'd instantly noticed about her powers, was that it was so...her. Like an extension of who she was, a part of everything that made up Daisy Johnson.

Calm. Daniel had felt agitated and confused after running away from that bar, and Daisy wasn't giving him straight answers. But sharing with her just a bit of why he had been so on edge and sad about not having enough time to have said his goodbyes, was weirdly calming. The understanding in her eyes, not judging him when he'd told her he might end his mission with them soon. Just a simple nod from her, and Daniel had felt calm enough to understand that he had options, and maybe he wasn't entirely trapped.

Helplessness. Daniel had thought she was going to die, more than once. The drug Nathaniel had used on them had obviously affected her more than him from the start, and Daniel didn't know how to help her. And then it had gotten worse, much worse. And all Daniel could do was sit there as Malick took her away. Violating and torturing her in ways he didn't think a human being was capable of, and he'd had to watch it all through a hole in the wall. Daniel wanted to kill him. But Daisy had been so strong, so resilient, almost making no sound at all. And that had worried him more than anything, it was almost as though her body was prepared for the pain. A bile had risen in his throat and he'd felt sick to his stomach, trying to calm down and think of a way to get them out. To get that sick bastard as far away from Daisy as he could.

Fear. Daniel had been so scared for her the entire time. But when they had brought her out, blood staining her shirt, her head hanging limply on her shoulder, he'd felt his heart halt in his chest. And for one terrifying second Daniel'd thought she was actually dead. Daisy, he'd rasped urgently, praying she'd answer him. Stay awake. Daniel wasn't sure why he'd told her that specific story, it was one of his worst memories, he'd always felt guilty thinking about his friend. But with Daisy beaten up, barely hanging on, Daniel'd managed to find the hope in his tale, hope to help her press on, hope to tell her that she was going home, no matter what, even if he wasn't. But in the end, it had been her. Daisy was the one who had pushed through it all and embedded a piece of glass beneath her skin, which'd saved them both.

It was then, Daniel thought, that something within him had completely shifted, something that kept calling out for her, to be near her. And he didn't resist it, he didn't want to.

Daisy was very slowly opening up, little by little, she was letting him in. Ever since they'd met, Daniel found himself hanging on her every word, wanting to absorb any information she was willing to give about herself. Daniel couldn't stop thinking about their latest conversation before she climbed into the chamber. It was absolutely heartbreaking that his hunch was confirmed, Daisy had suffered many losses and torment in many ways. And Daniel really didn't want to push her, especially when she was still healing. He was fine with her taking however long she needed. One day. One day, Daniel wanted her to tell him everything, because he really didn't think this intense need to know her was going away.

Daniel was nurturing by nature, but for some reason when it came to her, it was really dialed up a notch, if him twisting his back for hours just to make sure she was okay, was any indication. Daniel wanted to help the team save the world from those damn aliens calling themselves, the Chronicoms. But Daniel would be lying if he said that he didn't stay mainly because of her. Daniel'd had to sit there and watch her get tortured for hours, and the image wouldn't leave his mind. She wouldn't leave his mind. Daniel had to stay, because it really was where he needed to be. Next to Daisy Johnson as she made her way back to health, so she could get back to saving the world, and Daniel would be beside her then too.

Daniel was supposed to be dead. It was a struggle choosing which to focus on, the fact that he was taken out of his time and didn't get to give proper goodbye to his life and everyone in it, or the fact that as far as his history's concerned, Daniel Sousa had died on July 22, 1955. It was overwhelmingly daunting, and he was trying to accept that it was something he might never be able to fully wrap his head around.

But being with this team, as much as he hadn't completely trusted them at first, was helping him. Observing their dynamic and watching them work together was interesting, to say the least; it made him miss his life back home, his S.H.I.E.L.D. The team was almost too close, they obviously had such a deep bond with one another, and seemed ready for anything thrown their way. It was clear they had been burdened with a lot more than the average S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent.

And while Daniel was more than willing to help them on their mission, it was Daisy that had shone a light through all the confusion, frustration, and anxiety. And his mind, as well as his heart, seemed to latch onto her. Maybe he was focusing on her to keep himself grounded and to help him understand, but that wasn't just it. It was Daisy, and Daniel was really trying to know her inside and out, and hopefully keep her in his life after everything.

His eyes were starting to get heavy as he tried to keep them on her. A small yawn leaving his lips, Daniel angled his body to the right, trying to find a comfortable position.

What'd happened to him was disruptive and life-altering, and after all this, if he survived, Daniel was going to take some time to fully process his situation and place in life. But Daniel couldn't help but think that it wasn't all bad, that things happened for a reason, and that he was meant to be here. Daniel was a dead man; he was thrown out of his time, and yet somehow, sitting down on that chair and watching over Daisy, now felt like his time too.

Maybe his time was whenever Daisy's time was, and with that strangely serene thought, Daniel's eyes finally gave in to sleep.

#tumblr why are you like this #agents of shield #daisy johnson #sousy #daniel sousa #daisysous #daisy x sousa #daisy x daniel #aos

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general-mahamatra · 5 years ago

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Spalbert being domestic? Love your writing!

Spalbert, eh? fuck yeah dude

i’ll admit... i went a bit overboard and its more like “cooking with albert with some added heated making out” but what can i say? i couldnt stop myself

Pairing: Spalbert

Genre: Slice of Life

TW: Suggestive/Mildly Graphic NSFW

Wordcount: 3862

Note: I went overboard please send help. Also, sorry I can’t shorten it! Tumblr hates to work with me when I make these posts and edit them

Cooking dinner was not a common occurrence in the small Conlon-DaSilva apartment. It was rarer than the sight of them doing anything romantic in general.

But their one year anniversary was coming up and Albert wanted to do something special.

He stood in the doorway of the tiny kitchen, hands clasped together just under his chin. He had no idea what he was doing. Despite his years of friendship with Racer, all of the knowledge Albert had gained fell through. The guy barely retained information; he was lucky if he could remember what happened the day before. Hell, he didn’t even know what he had for breakfast that morning.

...did he eat breakfast?

Albert wasn’t too sure about that. His mind drew a blank the harder he thought, only resulting in a minor headache to begin his descent into misery. This wasn’t going to go well, was it?

His eyes slipped shut as he took a deep breath. Slowly, he exhaled, allowing the air to seep out at its own pace.

He can do this. He has the ingredients. He just needs to be careful with instructions and find the recipe Race had given him months ago. It shouldn’t be too hard.

Opening his eyes, Albert let his hands fall to his sides.

Spot’s not gonna be home for another hour at least. That left plenty of time for Albert to figure out how he was going to do this. After all, last he checked pasta doesn’t take that long to make. Not even the recipe he swore Race sent him.

Stepping into the kitchen, the ginger was slow. Taking his time to cross the wooden floor. He winced at the cold that rushed against his bare feet. How the hell could wood be so much colder than carpet?

Wait, that’s a stupid question. One of the stupidest Albert ever wondered.

Of course the wood is gonna be colder, it’s not made to be warm.

He padded across the kitchen, eventually making his way to the barely-cleared counter. Neither of them were ones to cook. While there were plenty of different things in the fridge and their cabinets, the most they did at home was make sandwiches. Hell, Albert’s rarely seen Spot eat anything but a sandwich of some sort at home.

Albeit, they would go out a lot. It was the perks of Spot being a personal trainer and Albert working as an electrician… in training. They made enough to support themselves and go out and spend some money for fun. Not a lot, of course. Spot was much more minimalist than Albert, leading to them barely having a stocked fridge.

Albert didn’t mind that. Although he grew up with a decent amount of food in the house, it was nice not to worry about stuff constantly going bad. Christ, they had an entire empty shelf in the door just because they barely had anything.

Except it made it hard for Albert to hide the stuff he bought.

Thankfully, Spot never commented on it.

Not that Albert cared too much. He would’ve brushed it off as wanting to try something new sometime and that’s that. Not like they started dating a year ago and he wanted to make something nice for the guy. Just a simple experiment.

He leaned against the counter with a small huff. If he was going to get anything done, he would have to find the recipe. And by God would that take a long time.

Pulling his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants, Albert went ahead and pulled up his text messages with Race. It was nice how they never actually texted “normally”. Majority of their conversations were on Snapchat. That meant whenever they sent each other important things, it wouldn’t be lost to chat history.

Of course, that didn’t mean they never sent each other things via text. Even now, it was clear the link Race had sent was drowned out by way too many messages.

It took ages for Albert to scroll through everything. How much time had actually passed was beyond him. It was likely it was maybe a minute or two but to him it felt like way more. It was stupid, so stupid. Why didn’t he just click the link to save it like a normal person?

Because he’s an idiot, that’s why.

Finally. Finally, he found it.

He clicked on the link, selecting the option to force it to pull up in Safari.

He’s not gonna lose it and be forced to scroll again. He refused.

By the time he had the link fully pulled up, Albert turned around, setting the phone on the counter. His eyes scanned over the words, a small frown setting into his features. This was far too much work just to make a simple thing of noodles.

Work that would be worth it in the end.

But dear God, there was so much stupid writing in the beginning. There were some helpful tips, yeah, but why did there have to be so much extra stuff? He’ll never understand the world of cooking.

With the page pulled up, Albert moved to the fridge and cabinet respectful, grabbing what he needed to make it. Noodles, vegetables, tomato paste… far too much shit.

Why did he follow through on actually making the sauce from scratch?

This was going to be a shit show.

A shit show that better be worth it in the end.

Albert tapped the screen when he realized it went dark so he could continue reading. Approximately 45 minute cook time, 6 servings. Yeah, that should be fine. They both ate a decent amount and it could be used for leftovers.

Though…

His eyes trailed over to where he had some ground beef thawing from earlier.

He wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to add any meat to it. As much as he knew Spot liked red meats, Albert himself was pescatarian. Which meant he only ate fish. Sometimes he would cave and begrudgingly eat hotdogs or cheeseburgers, but that was only if they were stuck at some sort of arena event.

But he didn’t wanna take that away from Spot. After all, he was prepping the entire meal for him. It shouldn’t matter what Albert liked. He could deal with some beef in the pasta for the sake of his boyfriend.

So, Albert continued on as normal.

He scrolled past the ingredients, already knowing he had everything. The sooner he started the sauce, the better off he would be.

What sucked was the fact he would have to begin immediately with the meat.

Pulling out a decent-sized pot, Albert set it on the stove. It felt a bit weird having to cook meat in it, but he was just following the recipe. It was just going to be awkward for a while.

Taking the bottle of olive oil, he measured out the allotted amount and dumped it into the pot. Then, with a swift motion, he turned the burner on to the designated heat.

When he went to grab the thawed meat, he paused.

This was the moment where it was all or nothing. As soon as he started cooking the meat, he would have to deal with it for the rest of the meal.

He grabbed a steak knife out of the holder before picking up the package. With a simple swipe, the plastic was sliced open. Setting the blade down, Albert pulled the packaging open.

There was no turning back now.

He carefully dumped the ground beef into the pot before setting the empty plastic to the side. Grabbing a wooden spoon, he looked back at his phone. Upon reading ahead, he was so glad he precut everything. He would’ve dropped dead right then and there if he had to chop anything now.

As the eight minutes passed by, Albert continued to follow the instructions. Soon enough, he was adding the onions before letting it simmer.

Idly, he stirred the pot from time to time. His eyes were mostly glued on his phone, scrolling through TikTok like his life depended on it. It was a nice way to pass the time.

By the time Albert was on the final step with the sauce, he had calmed down a bit. Not that he was too antsy, he was just… nervous. He wanted this to be perfect. The two weren’t able to go out anywhere fancy since apparently a lot of people have anniversaries in June. Either that or people were a bit too eager to go out to eat during the sixth month of the year.

After adding in the tomato paste and garlic and a select few other ingredients, he made care to stir it for almost exactly a minute. It wasn’t too hard given the next video he watched was just barely 50 seconds, so there was a plus there.

Jumping back to the recipe, Albert scanned over the next step before setting the phone down, screen up. He needed to add water, some crushed tomatoes, salt, and a “generous pinch” of pepper. Then all he had to do was stir it and let it simmer on low for 25 minutes. Not too bad.

With a quick glance ahead, Albert took note he had to start cooking the pasta itself 10 minutes in. Alright.

He followed the instructions, scraping the meat and veggies off the bottom of the pan before officially letting it simmer. With a quick set of the timer, Albert turned his attention back to his phone.

Opening YouTube, it didn’t take long for him to find a 7 minute video.

He stood there, hunched over the counter with his elbows propped up on the stone. Occasionally, he would move back to the stove to stir the sauce. Of course, he didn’t pay too much attention.

When the video finished, Albert jumped into action with the pasta. There was 17 minutes left on the timer, meaning he had a couple minutes to spare. Maybe then he could figure out how much salt he’s supposed to put in the damn water.

In the end it wasn’t too hard to gauge. He just dumped a decent amount into the half-full pot and set it on the burner diagonal from the sauce. Turning the handle away from the main walkway, Albert turned the dial to let it boil and stepped back. It wasn’t going too bad.

Turning back to the sauce, he picked up the wooden spoon and stood there for a moment. The website had mentioned that he should taste it from time to time, make sure it was properly seasoned.

But the stuff was hot, he didn’t wanna burn his tongue.

He pursed his lips, staring at the red sauce as it continued to simmer on the hot burner. A small taste wouldn’t hurt. After all, he can just blow on it and be on with his life. He just didn’t want to have to suffer through dinner with a burnt tongue, unable to taste what he made.

Albert dipped the spoon into the pot, scooping a small amount of the pasta sauce.

With one simple taste, he was surprised to find it didn’t taste half bad. He did pretty good for his first try.

Now that he was content, Albert went back to watching YouTube.

It wasn’t long before the water was boiling and he had to grab the noodles.

With the box in his hands, Albert read over the directions on the side to get a good grasp of how long to cook the pasta. The label stated 10 minutes, which meant he would have to start testing it at about 8 minutes. That wouldn’t be too hard.

He opened the box and dumped the noodles out. It felt oddly surreal seeing the long noodles stick straight out of the pan. As much as he had seen spaghetti cooked in videos and on TV, he had never actually witnessed the process.

It was at that moment anxiety decided to hit him like a truck. Full on, straight into his chest. It was almost like a physical force had knocked him into an altered form of reality. Suddenly he was hyperaware; his clothing rubbed wrong against his skin, he heard every noise in the apartment along with the sizzling of the sauce and faint blabbering of the video. Everything was shoved full force into his senses.

Albert stood there, box in hand as he tried to process it all.

His heart pounded against his ribs, ramming against it as if it were trying to break free. At the same time, a shiver coursed through his body, adding to the bizarre sense of consciousness.

His racing heart was what made his thoughts move a mile a minute.

What if Spot doesn’t like it? What if he came home with some fast food takeout like a normal day and it was all in vain? Does Spot even like pasta?

Fuck, is Spot allergic to pasta?

God. Shit. Fuck. He forgot to check what Spot was allergic to. What if he grabbed something and used it and Spot broke out into hives? God, that would be the worst anniversary ever.

A small whimper made itself heard and Albert was thankful he was alone. It was a pathetic sound, one of worry and panic that he never allowed the public to hear.

He finally set the box down, his vision blurred and unfocused as he stared at the cooking food. It’s going to be fine, it’s all going to be fine. Spot’s his boyfriend, he would know if the guy was allergic to something.

But… What if Spot lied? Or… What if he doesn’t like the meal?

He didn’t put it beyond Spot -- or anyone for that matter -- to pretend to like the food and just order something later in the night. Anyone with a sense of decency would wait until Albert had long since fallen asleep.

Albert closed his eyes, taking a shaky deep breath through his nose.

Everything’s gonna be alright.

Nothing will go wrong.

Albert peeked one of his eyes open to glance down at the cabinet next to him. Quickly, as if he were worried about embarrassing himself, he knocked on the wood.

By the time he managed to get himself to settle down, the noodles were nearly done. It was a bit odd knowing he had spaced off for almost 10 minutes, but it happened nonetheless. He just hoped the stuff didn’t need to be stirred too much.

Following the rest of the cooking instructions, he ended off with strained pasta being tossed into the pot of sauce. With a quick stir, Albert stepped back and sighed. It was basically done. He did it.

A small smile tugged at his lips only to be whisked away.

There’s still so many possibilities of him fucking this over.

He could spill the sauce, overcook it as he waited for Spot, forget to dress up nice… but he had plenty of time. There was at least 15 minutes before his boyfriend was home.

Albert rested his arms on the counter, allowing his head to lul forward as he shut his eyes. It was almost 7 P.M., it was barely evening. At this point on a normal day he would’ve been wide awake playing video games or watching videos. Hell, maybe he’d even be harassing Spot, who knows.

But this isn’t a normal day, it’s their fucking anniversary. And now he’s exhausted for no fucking reason.

How much worse could it possibly get?

He pressed one of his hands to his face, letting out an exasperated sigh. He stayed like that for a while, ignoring the blaring time on the stove. He knew better than to assume he’d be in a position like that for much longer than a minute.

The light click of the front door closing went unnoticed by Albert. Despite how aware he had been earlier, suddenly he was ignorant. Everything that went on around him was ignored, purposely or not. His fatigue was enough to keep him bent over the counter, his eyes shut and head resting in his hand for support.

He didn’t notice the rustling just outside the kitchen or the heavy footsteps that followed. Hell, he barely even realized there was a presence nearby before a strong pair of hands settled on his hips.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise?”

Albert practically jumped out of his skin. He tried to spin around but only ended up knocking his hand against the knife holder. He hissed out a few colorful words and in the end, didn’t turn.

His boyfriend’s arms slid around his waist, allowing the familiar feeling of the shorter man being pressed against him be made known.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you in the kitchen,” Spot teased, resting his chin on Albert’s shoulder.

The simple, solid touch instantly made Albert relax. Tension he didn’t even realize he still had faded away and left him loose against his boyfriend. It was nice.

“Well, jokes on you, here I am,” Albert said back, smiling slightly. He tilted his head a bit as he tried to look at the brunette.

A small hum came from the shorter man, the vibrations sending a shiver down Albert’s spine. “And what brings you here?”

That was when the panic returned.

Every inch of Albert tensed up, his attention darting over to the spaghetti. Fuck, he didn’t even prepare it. It’s still in the pot and he hasn’t even gotten dressed.

As if he noticed the tension, Spot gently caressed his thumb along Albert’s side. “Hey, it’s fine. You good?”

Albert tore his gaze away from the food and forced a small smile. “Yeah, I am.” Once again, he managed to relax. The feeling of Spot trying to offer physical comfort being enough to loosen him up. Though, it didn’t necessarily take off the edge.

What did was the sly movement of hands reaching up his shirt, running along his skin until they were on his lower back. The feeling of calloused fingers barely grazing his body made his breath hitch. He bit his lower lip, forcing himself to focus on that instead.

It wasn’t a surprise that Spot knew just what to do to get Albert’s mind off of things. The way the brunette moved along his body was distracting enough. It was even more to have the man reach up higher, almost as if he were exploring.

Except, is it even exploring if it’s already known?

“If you say so,” Spot said with yet another hum before leaning in.

A soft kiss pressed against Albert’s neck, causing his eyes to flutter shut. It was a pleasant feeling, one that spread warmth throughout his body. The warmth gradually grew fiery as the kissing continued. They were rougher than the initial one, eliciting a slight reaction from the ginger.

He tilted his head, hoping to allow the man more access. Despite it being from behind, Albert was mildly surprised the reach the brunette had.

It was always difficult for him to think about how exactly any of this was possible.

The rough hands that still held his body slid down to his hips and held tight. For a short moment, Spot pulled away just enough to spin the taller boy around. The movement was enough for Albert to glance down, offering a smile.

Said smile was immediately cut off by lips crashing into his. Once again, Spot was pressed up against him, pinning him against the counter.

Instead of returning to his upper body, Spot slipped his fingers just below the waistband. His thumbs pressed low, just enough to get Albert to try and squirm. It wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, it was far from it. It just happened to be foreign yet again.

It was hard to focus on the chapped lips that moved so perfectly against his own, not with the small pokes and prods from Spot. There was so much going on at once that Albert didn’t know what to pay attention to or when.

Spot’s kisses trailed away from Albert’s mouth, pressing against his jaw as he slowly made his way to the ginger’s neck. Each one made him shiver, sending a shock down to the rest of his body.

Without the constant action, Albert was free to let his lips part as he basked in the moment. It all felt so wonderful, so… nice. He didn’t want it to end and he wanted more.

It was the first nip along his throat that extracted a quiet squeak from the taller man. The rush that ran through him at that very second nearly made Albert go limp. He hadn’t realized how deprived he’d been until then. And by God, was it amazing.

Spot’s hands dipped further, causing Albert to let out one of the most pathetic noises he’d ever made.

It was almost hilarious considering just how tough he likes to make himself seem. All stoic and angry and yet Spot always managed to do the perfect thing.

He could practically feel the smirk against his neck, making his cheeks heat up way more than necessary. Of course Spot would be cocky about it.

Any thought Albert had was cut off by the abrupt feeling of being groped. He hadn’t even realized the shorter man had moved one of his hands. With his focus on the bites, any other action had gone unnoticed.

A stifled moan slipped out of his mouth.

God, this was far better than the spaghetti.

The pleasurable heat that emanated from his groin was enough to let Albert forget about the food. If he could just get Spot to do more-

Wait.

The spaghetti.

Albert’s eyes shot open and he scrambled to push Spot away. The brunette backed off as some as Albert began to push, knowing better than to try and continue. He frowned at the ginger, his brows furrowed with confusion and worry.

“You alright?”

Albert nodded, shifting a bit as he tried to regain any composure he had prior. “Yeah, don’t worry.” He spun around, stumbling a bit as he scrambled to turn the burner off. He didn’t need the pasta overcooking.

Sheepishly, he turned back to Spot. “I just… I didn’t want to keep it on too long.” Spot tilted his head at the comment. “I wanted to cook something for tonight and I didn’t want it to be overdone.” Albert bit the inside of his cheek for a moment before continuing. “I’ve never done this before. Cooking, that is, obviously.”

Realization washed over Spot’s features as the shorter man smiled up at him. That smile shifted into a grin within seconds when his eyes fell onto the pot. “Then let’s eat. We can continue later.”

Albert would’ve been perfectly fine if Spot didn’t wink right after that.

The sheer action nearly kicked his knees out from under him.

“Yeah,” Albert managed to say, swallowing as he tried to form words. “Later. Definitely. Yes.”

Spot smirked at the reaction, a bit too pleased with it in Albert’s eyes.

Maybe it would be a great anniversary after all.

#Newsies #spot conlon #albert dasilva #spot conlon x albert dasilva #spalbert #newsies fic #slice of life #request #heelys gang #prince's writing

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vgperson · 5 years ago

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What Did I Do In 2019?

#vgperson

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aziraphalesangel · 5 years ago

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Special request: where your reply is Hacyon-related, please also give an answer that is non-Halcyon (if possible) B. what’s your favourite fandom to read?E. who is your OTP?F. canon fics or au?G. longfics or shortfics?H. original characters or no?L. favourite fic written by you?P. do you write exclusively fanfic?R. link your favourite fic of all-time.S. link your favourite author.T. when did you start reading fanfic?V. post the last sentence you wrote.X. give a summary of your current project!

B. what’s your favourite fandom to read

So usually I only read one fandom at a time, and any time I read, like, two, is usually when I’m switching over from one to the other. So at the moment, I read the halcyon, but before that was good omens (and a bit of call the midwife, because occasionally I fall back into that, for maybe a week)

E. who is your OTP

adil/toby :P

for non-halcyon, I guess I’d say ineffable husbands, or phryne/jack from miss fisher (I’ve loved them since I was roughly 12 or 13 so...) but I only really have the brain space for a lot of emotion for one paring at a time

F. canon fic or au

generally, I read canon (or canon divergence if the canon is a bit shit) first, because I like reading and writing stuff that fleshes out some of the parts of canon that could have been more in-depth (like toby and adil’s ending feels pretty rushed, so I like exploring that even though it's sooooo angsty) but, au is a lot of fun when going after fluff and just, really funny/random scenarios and figuring out how everyone reacts in completely different situations and whatnot. it’s like a puzzle. so they both have different things that appeal to me :)

G. long fics or short fics

ah, usually short fics at the moment. I’ve had a bit of burnout for the last couple of months (it's so annoying, can my attention span please come back?), and also winter/cold air means I’ve been having more flare-ups, and when I’m in pain I can’t process words at all (soooo boring) but I love a really good long multichap sometimes because you can get completely lost in it and it’s just a lot of fun

H. original characters or no

I really love making ocs up, its fun for practising drawing sometimes. I don’t mind reading it in fics, so long as they don’t take away from the roles of actual side characters, but they can be fun. I tend not to write any in my own fics though

L. favourite fic written by you

ooooooh, I’m still pretty proud of Catch Me which is good omens hurt/comfort (I am a sucker for hurt comfort and I really wanted to read something specific and I didn’t know how to search for it so I wrote it).

I also kinda love Tell me a Story, Tell me a Lie because writing that reminded me a lot of the really experimental writing I did for extension english (literacy/writing etc.) in my last year of high school, and it was really fun to write, but I genuinely was not expecting anyone else to like it because I know second person can be a bit hit or miss,

P. do you write exclusively fanfic

I actually wrote oc stuff before I discovered fanfic was a thing (I would have been maybe 12 or 13), but it got very very dark, and honestly wasn't very good (again, i was like 12 lol). I have written story outlines since, usually for fic ideas that don’t fit a fandom/pairing so I made characters up, which I’d love to flesh out properly, but I’ve never actually written any original stuff at properly since then. I like writing fanfic more though. bonus content!

R. link your favourite fic of all time

I don’t have one???? There are certain fics I come back to first when I fall back into a fandom, but generally I barely have one favourite per fandom, let alone of all time across all of them. like, when I started reading fic for the halcyon again I started from top to bottom until I ran out, because I was mostly just excited that there was actually new fic (and writers!!!)

S. link your favourite author

I DON’T KNOW everyone’s writing style is slightly different, and some days it might be exactly what I want to read and other days I can’t process it at all, which means it changes all the time, but I’ll try not to be a massive baby about this and pick a few...

you (@szonklin) obviously, especially when I need an au fix :P (ao3)

@merefactsandlogic (ao3) who I seem to reread a lot without realising

@santiagosnart was someone I remember from when I lurked back in 2017, and I still really love their fics, and if they ever wrote halcyon fic again I might cry (ao3)

also I’m a massive coward about commenting, I’m trying to be better at that

T. when did you start reading fanfic

I think I was maybe 13? possibly 14? I read shitting hunger games fanfic on wattpad. I discovered ao3 when I was 15 when I got tumblr

V. post the last sentence you wrote

“So he goes up to Toby’s room the next morning, with an apology, an explanation, and a single blood drenched flower.”

(it’s another au I’m not gonna actually turn into a fic, but it accidentally got a little bit too detailed because I decided I was gonna rewrite it oops.)

X. give a summary of your current work

I have maybe 4 or 5? that I haven't touched in months?? (oh fuck the mermaid au) but okay;

so the one (that’s actually gonna be a fic, hopefully, eventually) is another post-canon fic, that sort of focuses more on reactions and processing of what happened in the last ep of the halcyon. I know this has been done a million times before, but like, rather than skipping ahead a few years and then confronting each other, its more about those years that usually get skipped. and they’ll get a happy ending this time (more angst though sorry!)

the not-gonna-be-a-fic thing from the previous question is a hanahaki au, and I’m not turning it into an actual fic because it’s just normal canon except adil has hanahaki. that’s it. just extra drama

(I also have good omens wips which I’m pretty sure I’ll never touch again. I think I might have a couple of marvel ones which I’m definitely never touching again because I’m just not interested in writing them anymore rip)

#ask

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faejilly · 5 years ago

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Fic Writer Game

I was not technically tagged by @firstaudrina but I’m blaming her anyways

YAY

tagging: uh... anyone who hasn’t done this yet? @alxndrlightwoods, @beamirang @elfyourmother @gingersnapwolves @janoda (I randomly picked letters and let tumblr mention people on its own, PLEASe don’t take this too seriously... 🙃😅) PLEASE DO THIS IF YOU’RE REMOTELY SO INCLINED, even if I haven’t tagged you, AND THEN BLAME ME, I love seeing these things.

Fandoms: BioWare, historically, a pretty even mix in my head of Dragon Age & Mass Effect but clearly I mostly managed to write for DA2. Currently, mostly Shadowhunters, though I’m working on an Inception crossover and I dabble in a lot of things... mostly still video games tho, there’s just something about the framework of a good RPG protagonist just waiting to be filled in. #7kpp and Code: Realize and Cinders! Some day maybe I’ll finally do something with Jade Empire since it’s my favorite...

I write a lot of random prompt-fills & yuletide randomness, just a few little stories for fandoms I never really got lost it but still enjoy, like a Georgette Heyer regency epilogue and a Firefly/Serenity thing because I will apparently never be over Zoe/Wash ever.

Number of fics: A lot of my fic is ficlet collections, so I’m not sure how you want to count this, (and I’ve lost a decent number of things over the years too, whoops), especially since a couple of my “fics” on AO3 are actually fanmixes that I put on there so they’d link properly to the fics they accompany, and there’s a collab that’s not just me, but uh... depending on the math, anywhere from 145 to 500-ish? (AO3 says I have 152 published.)

Fic I spent more time on: I start a lot of fic and then may literally let it lay dormant for years... I’m not necessarily working on it all that time though. SO uh. Cruel Intentions sat for five years between the kink-meme prompt that started it all and me finally writing a conclusion? *shrugs* IDK.

Fic I spent less time on: A lot of the ficlets are just sort of dashed off whenever I managed to get inspiration. In terms of a proper fic I’d have to say Impossible kind of wrote itself in one or two sittings. (priest!kink is clearly something I should indulge in more often 😅)

Longest fic: The 3-Shepards Collab (on borderline permanent hiatus? we may get back to it some day) Persephone Rising at almost 200k words. In terms of “I actually wrote the whole damn thing” we’ve got Lost for Words at just over 62k. (Yay Mass Effect?)

Shortest: erm. I write a lot of like, 3sentence prompt fic and everything? But in terms of: stands alone as posted, it is apparently... Fools, about Brosca & Leske in DA:O. 😭

Most hits/Most kudos/Most bookmarks: ALL FOR i am for you (14871, 868, and 282, respectively)

In second place for hits is I like the thrill of under me you (because porn usually does get more hits and less of everything else), for kudos & bookmarks it’s two are halves of one. Because SH fandom likes fluff to counteract the melodrama of canon? Only maybe not since next is the one where I kill Alec and everyone’s sad... SH fandom likes fluff and Magnus whump disguised as torturing Alec? We’re apparently all terrible people.

Total words combined: published, I have 1,088,995 words on AO3!

Which obviously doesn’t count all the bits and bobs that never made it there and all the WIPs that I’m trying to finish before I start posting again. I don’t have the faintest idea how to figure that number out tho 😅

Fic you want to rewrite or expand: Generally, if it made it to AO3 I at least enjoyed writing it, and even if I wouldn’t write it the same way now, I had fun then, so I seldom re-do things. (With a notable exception of the one introducing Theia Hawke (and killing her) which I rewrote to have less sex and more manipulation to fit all the stuff I wrote later... and retitled to fit all the rest of it better, too. I didn’t think she’d get so much fic when I started with her dying. Shows what I know.)

That said! If we’re expanding, I would really like to write sequels/continuations to several things, most notably Regency/Persuasion Malec, mer!alec, The Forest That (sometimes) Eats People (but is mostly very nice once you get to know it) & how do you recover from dying aka the s3 canon divergence fic for Shadowhunters.

Fav fic you wrote: erm. That’s an impossible question, and I’d give you a different answer almost every day.

Today uh... warm as silk because the #7kpp discord was talking about Code: Realize yesterday, and it’s very soft and pretty and I almost didn’t write it but then I finally managed it, and that’s always an excellent feeling.

Share a bit of your WIP or idea if you have anything planned: I have like 14 which one should I share?

SOME DAY

I may actually post some more of that top hits/kudos/bookmarks/comments fic i am for you with a Catarina POV chapter:

Alec Lightwood is a revelation.

She's seen Magnus fall too hard and too fast before, but she's never seen him like this, never seen him look lighter for it rather than just more intense, never seen the person he'd fallen for look just as far gone just as fast. Alec's expression when he looks at Magnus is sublime, it's like he's smiling all the way to his fingertips, and she has to look away.

OR, I may even finish that one lingering DA2 WIP from a million years ago...

Adelaide woke, held in place by the comforting weight of Sebastian's arm draped over her. She kept her eyes closed and breathed in the faint whisper of incense that never quite faded from his skin and hair, and settled herself just the tiniest bit closer, felt his arm tighten a little, even in his sleep, to keep her there.

aaaaand, it just gets sappier from there 🤣

#writing memery #firstaudrina

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shadowfae · 6 years ago

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Hi im pretty sure I'm kin but I have doubts and shit because I have multiple kintypes. How do you know you're kin?

Okay, I’m home, time to jump right in. So, we’re gonna do this in two parts like we did the first guide I did on this. Part one: What Is Otherkinity, What’s Related To It: A Crash Course To Terminology. This is gonna be so we’re clear from the getgo on things. Part two: A Few Methods That May or May Not Work To Figuring Shit Out. This is some of the ways I know - but your experience will be deeply personal and unique, so don’t worry if you don’t stick to any one method, and it’s not about following the method so much as it is finding the answers and being satisfied with what you know.

This guide, however, will not go over most community things, like history and culture. That requires [groaning noises] sourcing things, and I hate doing homework. That you can hunt down from folks who have been here much longer than me. It also isn’t a comprehensive guide on experiences, because trying to mention everything would quite possibly kill me and requires a lot more teamwork and surveys and interviews and chasing down books that are no longer in print. So yeah, don’t expect everything.

I could just link the first guide I made, but it’s good to make a new one a few years later. Under the readmore, but let’s go!

Part One: Otherkinity, Related Experiences, and A Quick Guide To Terminology.

Side note - this is not a comprehensive guide of the terminology, there’s far too many terms and I am literally writing this entirely off the top of my head. If I forget stuff, don’t @ me unless it’s a glaring issue. :p

Otherkinity: An ontological experience in which a person identifies wholly or partially as a nonhuman or fictional entity, on a nonphysical, involuntary, and profound level. Every one of those words is important. It is not necessarily spiritual or psychological, though it can be. You ID as the thing, not with it. It is you. You are the thing. It can be nonhuman or fictional or both, but not neither because that just leaves humanity. Some identify partially, and some identify wholly as nunhuman/fictional. I don’t ID entirely as nonhuman, but I do identify wholly as fictional, for example. (I’ll get into that later). It’s nonphysical, you can’t physically shapeshift, obviously. It’s involuntary, you don’t choose it. This isn’t a roleplay, this is identity at its base. It can be changed, but not easily, and not really voluntarily. It is also profound. It is a part of you, it’s never going away, you aren’t exactly who you are without it.

Therianthrope: An ontological experience in which a person identifies wholly or partially as a nonhuman, physically real Earth-based animal, on a nonphysical, involuntary, and profound level. Otherkin, but for Earth animals, like dogs or dinosaurs or bugs.

Fictionkin(d):An ontological experience in which a person identifies wholly or partially as a fictional entity, on a nonphysical, involuntary, and profound level. Often considered the other side of the Venn diagram to therianthropy. This is where you’re a fictional character or entity or member of a fictional species. Harry Potter or a Pikachu, it’s all fictionkin.

Fictionkind is a bit of an older term, and there has been a push to use it more as ‘fictionkin’ has seen more use amongst those who think it’s a form of roleplay, trading cards, or who have figured out that they can misuse community terms into their purity cults in order to control others. As well, otherkind was one of our first terms, but you’ll rarely see it used. They both share an ending of -kin, which is not from ‘kin as in your blood family’ but -kind, as in mankind, elvenkind, so thus otherkind, fictionkind. It’s not a relating to, it’s a being of.

Theriomythic:An ontological experience in which a person identifies wholly or partially as a mythical nonhuman animal, on a nonphysical, involuntary, and profound level. This is for those of us who are unicorns, griffons, dragons, etc, all the nonhuman animals that do not physically exist but are not necessarily under what’s considered fiction. It’s one of the prettiest words we have, in my opinion.

Phytanthrope: An ontological experience in which a person identifies wholly or partially as a plant-based lifeform, on a nonphysical, involuntary, and profound level. Otherkin, but you’re a plant. I’m including it here because it’s a very pretty-sounding word, and although not as common, certainly real and not something you might recognize. It’s completely interchangeable with ‘plantkin’, but it sounds cool, so.

Otherhearted: An ontological experience in which a person identifies wholly or partially with a nonhuman or fictional entity, on a nonphysical, involuntary, and profound level. Like otherkin, but you are not the thing, you ID with the thing. It is close to you, it is what you’d be if you weren’t what you are. The difference, to put it in layman’s terms, otherkin is #me and otherhearted is #god i wish that were me. But like, way more profound. Are you the thing, or is it just incredibly close to you? Both are a part of your identity, just slightly different.

Synpath: Like otherhearted, and was made by someone who didn’t know the word for otherhearted. It caught on and the difference is mostly accepted as linguistic: if it’s a general noun it’s a hearttype, if it’s a proper noun and thus is a name or requires a capital, it’s a synpath. Tl;dr: you can be unicornhearted, but you’re a Harry Potter synpath.

Otherlink: An ontological experience in which a person identifies wholly or partially with a nonhuman or fictional entity, on a nonphysical and voluntary level. This one’s a little more recent. It is like a kintype, but it is voluntary, you can choose it, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be a Big Thing like otherkinity. You will also see ‘copinglink’, which actually came first - that one’s an otherlink made to cope with something. (Both terms were made by @/who-is-page, aka a person you Need to be following if you’re gonna be on the tumblr community with us.) Otherlink and copinglink are incredibly handy terms, and when you need ‘em, you’re glad they’re there.

Shifting: An experience in which something ‘shifts’ in the mental or emotional shape to a different state of being, related to otherkinity and/or any related experiences. This one is such a common term, and hard to properly define without going into nuances. Mental shifts are when your mental state shifts to align better with a kintype, aura shifts are when your aura does that, shadow shifts are some sort of astral projection, astral shifts involve the astral realm, berserk shifts are extreme mental shifts that typically involve violence or loss of reason, etc, etc. Most of the time, if someone says they’re in an X shift, they mean mental shift.

Multiplicity: An ontological experience in which a person is not alone in their body. Before someone @s me, I know it’s badly worded here. This is DID, OSDD-1, and endogenic systems, alongside a few other things. A kintype is you, a multiple is not you but also in your body. I won’t be going over this much as I am not multiple, but it’s good to know about. It’s not otherkinity, nor really related, but if you’re gonna learn about otherkinity, it helps to know about multiplicity. Also see soulbonding and tulpamancy.

Alterhumanity: An overarching community term for all those who do not feel completely, 100% human; or rather those who feel an altered version of humanity. Basically, someone got really tired of saying ‘otherkin, otherhearted, otherlinks, OSDD-1 and DID, endogenic systems, etc etc’ and made a term for everyone. It’s controversial on just who it defines as it also includes transhumanists (those who wish to physically become nonhuman, even if they ID as human) and many other things in a gray area, but as someone who’s gonna be typing otherkin, otherhearted, otherlinks, systems, etc etc a whole lot in this post? It’s handy.

Phantom Limbs: An experience in which a brain maps out limbs that do not physically exist. This is originally a medical term, but it’s also incredibly useful. It refers to all limbs that don’t exist but you’re still pretty sure are there. Amputees experience this, and you know the rubber hand experiment where they hide your arm and trick your brain into thinking a plastic arm is your arm, and then hit the plastic arm and you feel pain? Yeah, phantom limbs. There’s also supernumerary phantom limbs, which is the Extra Bits like fangs and wings and horns and tails. Astral limbs, however, refer to the astral realm, and that’s a magic and spirit work thing, not an otherkin thing.

Paratype: An identity that is related to one’s alterhumanity but does not precisely adhere to any known definition. This was made by @/aestherians as a ‘fuck it you’re related and I don’t really know how but you’re worth mentioning’. It’s a ‘misc’ term, when you’re not sure if it’s a hearttype or something else but is important to your identity. It doesn’t always mean you’re questioning it, but it’s there. It’s new and does need to catch on, but it’s pretty handy.

ID: Short for ‘identity’ or ‘identify’. Occasionally used as shorthand. Be wary of someone who insists that an ID is ‘more you’ than a kintype. A kintype is an ID. So is a hearttype, or a linktype, or anything else. ‘ID’ is just an umbrella term that has been occasionally misused.

Kintype / Theriotype / Fictotype / Hearttype / Linktype: The noun versions of being otherkin, therianthrope, fictionkin, otherhearted, and otherlink/copinglink respectively. You are otherkin, you have a kintype, you are fictionkin, you have a fictotype, etc. If I catch you using ‘kins’ after this I will eat you.

Awakening / Questioning / Kinfirmation: A few terms to describe one’s journey through understanding their alterhumanity / otherkinity. Awakening is generally the moment you start feeling alterhuman or otherkin. For some of us, we’ve always been like this, for others, we just suddenly notice it. Questioning is whole journey from awakening to understanding and being sure of things. You’re never really done questioning, but when you’re happy with it, technically you’re done. Kinfirmation is a controversial term, sure. It’s otherkin + confirmation. Basically it means the opposite of awakening - the moment you’re sure, you’re done questioning, you’ve confirmed that this is a kintype. Awakening is how you start questioning, kinfirmation is how you finish. It’s controversial because it sounds stupid. But I like puns, so I’m keeping it. (You can slap ‘kin’ into any word and make it hilarious. That’s why I use a ‘kinformation’ tag. :p )

Banned / False Terms: kinning, kins, kinnies, etc - just don’t. Please, just don’t. This is how you make sure nobody takes you seriously and you get dismissed as a troll. ‘Kinning’ as a verb implies that otherkinity is a choice, which is prevalent and dangerous misinformation, and most of the community says burn it with fire - and for good reason. ‘Kins’ is just what people say when they don’t know the word ‘kintypes’, and implies you know very little about this. ‘Kinnies’ is a term made by antikin that’s quite controversial. On one hand, it’s hilarious to use to spit back at them, on the other hand it’s rude, on one foot like ‘kins’ it makes you look stupid, and on the other foot for a fair amount of folks it looks too much like ‘tr*nnies’ to give anything but a gut reaction of horror. (‘Kinnie’ is not a slur and does not hold the same societal weight, but as a gut reaction if you’ve had ‘tr*nny’ thrown at you, ‘kinnie’ isn’t going to make you feel all that great either.)

Part Two: A Few Methods That May or May Not Work To Questioning Kintypes and Related Alterhumanity.

So we’ve learned terms, and now there should be little confusion in what we’re talking about here. If you were expecting a step-by-step list, you will absolutely never get one, not from me or from anyone else.

Your journey through awakening, questioning, and ‘kinfirmation will be your own. It will be unique. You will never start in the same place as someone else, you will never finish in exactly the same way. The questions you ask will not be the questions I will ask. You do not need to justify it to me. You only need justify it to yourself. A second opinion always helps, sure, in case you missed something, but it’s not my job to tell you what you are. That’s yours.

So let’s take a look. At this point, one should hope you’ve awakened. It has occurred to you that you’re not quite human, you’re not quite what you physically are. You are aware that this is not a common experience. There are lots of things that could draw you to this. Homesickness is the big one. Memories, sometimes. Habits you shouldn’t have. Methods of thinking that don’t have a reason that makes sense. A feeling of belonging, of hiraeth. Your identity is not entirely your experiences in this life, this moment. Shifts are also a pretty big indicator. And so, so much more that I can’t possibly put a name to.

You know you’ve got Stuff going on here, but you don’t know what, it may be multiple things, it may be one thing. You said it may be multiple things, and fuck, it sure might be. It is for me, and lemme tell you, when those things like combining that makes it harder to sort them out. But you kind of have to, if you’re here and asking these questions.

You’re done questioning when you’re happy. You don’t need to know everything, and tbh you never will know everything. That’s okay. You just need to be happy with what you’re sure of.

So you’re not entirely human, or you think you might be fictional. Shit happens. But you’ve got to figure out what you are, if you’re not that. For some of us, it’s obvious. For some, not so much. I’m the sort of ‘stare it in the face and not recognize it’ person, because I’m stupid, but that’s a way to do it.

Your first step, of course, should be to take every sign you’ve got of this, every indicator that makes you think the craziest thing of all, ‘oh shit I’m not human’ / ‘oh shit I’m fictional’. Because kid, this isn’t a conclusion you immediately come to. Think about it, for a moment. If you’re actually here, with this conclusion in mind, there’s a reason you think that this is it. So gather all the reasons you’ve got, notice a few more and grab those too, and stick them in a box. Or write them down. Just put them somewhere and take a look at what you’ve got.

Now figure out if X habit here is related to Y homesickness of Z aesthetic, if that’s a Normal Human Thing or a Odd Alterhuman Thing. The lines will blur. You will have something that’s a Normal Human Thing, but in context is possibly an Odd Alterhuman Thing. Note that it’s both depending on perspective, and continue.

Try not to define stuff too much. Before you say you’ve got wings as supernumerary limbs - do you have wings, or just a weight on your back? Because those ‘wings’ might be wires, or a saddle, or gods know what else. Note that it’s a weight, check to see if it’s not a normal human thing medical issue, that you think it’s wings, what it feels like other than a weight, if it’s just there like clothes or if you can feel through it like your hands, and whatever else you’ve got.

You should probably figure out what you’re working with before you start putting it together. If you’re sorting by colour or by shape, essentially. Question things. Do you know it’s this because that’s just your first reaction, or do you know because that’s what it is and you’re not arguing the sky is blue?

Do not, and I repeat, do not overkill it. Keep questioning to a quiet thing, if you must sit down and dedicate time, do not do more than an hour or two. Brains do confirmation bias. You’ll see shit that isn’t there, or make things up to fit the puzzle you think you just solved. When you do sit down to question, write down exactly how you got from point A to point D. Take some time away after, and revisit it, see if point C still holds up on its own.

Try not to question too little and assume things, try not to question too much and make yourself full of doubt. Some things just are, okay? You don’t have to convince yourself it’s not That, that you aren’t sure, that it can’t possibly be. Sometimes it’s just like That, and that’s okay. It’s all right to accept the impossible. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be here. If it wasn’t, you’d be dismissing me. Don’t take things at face value, but sometimes, what they are inside is exactly what it says on the tin.

This is going to be long, and great at times, and sucky at times, and downright confusing. If you turn to divination like tarot and pendulums, ensure they work before using them on this, and like all things, take with a grain of salt. Tarot that someone else does on you? Yeah, okay, it’ll work. Asking someone on the internet to use a pendulum for you? No. Do not. That is not going to give you a good answer on anything.

If you can do it for a different part of your identity, you can do it for this - as a decent rule of thumb.

You may want to ask why you’re like this, if it’s spiritual or psychological or how it happened. Key word may. A lot of us do ask why, and sometimes find answers, but if you’re “Idk, I’m just an elf, don’t ask me,” then that is also completely fine! So long as you’re happy with that answer.

Multiple kintypes can make questioning an utter nightmare. Tackle them one at a time, use elimination methods, check if X is a symptom of Y kintype or Z hearttype or gods know what else. Don’t be afraid to admit you don’t effin’ know, and deal with it later. You won’t get this overnight. You’ll be questioning for at least a month. Anything less and ehhh, you sure, buddy? You might be right, but under a month and you might’ve missed something critical - it just isn’t enough time to be absolutely sure. Like marrying someone, this takes time to understand and learn. Bad example, but it works.

You may be questioning for years. Happens to the best of us. My friend Gryph spent five years asking ‘is this a hearttype or a kintype’ and was only sure after I used the ‘#god i wish that were me versus #me’ comparison and it made enough sense that they figured it out on the spot. That was like, three years ago. It was actually kind of funny considering Gryph was like, twice my age at the time.

Point is, this takes time, sometimes you just know, sometimes you really don’t. It’s weird, it’s unique, it’s personal, it’s an adventure and if you’re here you’ll probably be glad to go through it. Some of us are actually not happy with being otherkin, and would trade it away if they could. This is also normal. Not as well-spoken about, for obvious reasons, but it happens.

The key is introspection. It’s not divination, it’s not what someone else says - though that can help. It’s introspection. It’s about you, it’s what you are. It’s what’s right, what is true to your story. It’s a truth of the world, something you understand a split second before it defines itself, something that really just doesn’t give itself easily over to words.

There’s no step by step guide to otherkinity, to alterhumanity. Nobody could make one. But if you’re sure that this rings true, that this is the key to a part of you, then to you I say only two things.

Welcome to our subculture. I hope you find what you’re looking for.

Luteia 💚

#otherkin #fictionkin #alterhuman #luteia laments #kinformation #idk what other tags i need?#lmk if i forgot something important lmao #i wrote this in two hours in one go #Anonymous

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