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widow-tarot · 1 day

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MINI PAC READING: What Would They Tell You If They Could? (Romance)

GROUPS: 1 - 2 - 3 4 - 5 - 6

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Instruction: Think about your person while choosing a group. Do not use more than 1 group for one person. Just to remind you, this is only for entertainment purposes.

If you don't feel drawn to any group, then this reading is not for you.

GROUP 1

Cards: Ace of Wands, Knight of Wands rx, Wheel of Fortune rx, I Like You, Girl Talk rx, Pond, Archangel Metatron.

I like you. I know it's straightforward, but I cannot say it in any other way that's more meaningful or more direct. It might not sound meaningful but it is to me (I hope it is to you too). I feel there is a spiritual connection between us and it seems no matter what, we keep coming back to each other. Our connection is like a pond; can be insignificant to others but to us, it holds so much life and secrets but it can easily be destroyed if not cultivated. We are so hot and cold; we like each other, then we hate each other over something trivial (we both don't know what exactly annoyed us). I want to move towards you but things are holding me back. There's so much I want to do and say but I'm standing still. I know we will truly come together someday. No one knows about it because I don't share those feelings with friends. It seems too private and sacred.

SONGS:

Eric by Mitski ("Take off my clothes and watch me move; You can come closer, I'll let you hurt me; But how long, how long can we play this way?; I'm tired, I'm tired of not loving you"

Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey ("Ours a love I held tightly; Feeling the rapture grow; Like a flame burning brightly; But when she left; Gone was the glow")

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby by Cigarettes After Sex ("Whispered something in your ear; It was a perverted thing to say; But I said it anyway; Made you smile and look away; Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby; As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine")

GROUP 2

Cards: 9 of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles, 7 of Cups, Noose rx, Mushrooms, The Snake, Hammer rx, Seraphim Seraphisa rx.

You will forever be in my heart and mind, but we can never be together in the way we want. There are way too many blockages and I do think we are not fit to be in a relationship. I am in a committed relationship (or you are) and I do not wish to leave her for I love her. Maybe I am a coward, but I am a practical and cautious one. I will not take reckless actions just to wake up one day and regret it. I think what we have is a fantasy, pleasant make-believe, daydreaming. However, I don't want you gone because you're an important person to me. I wish you happiness but I can't follow you.

SONGS:

Lonesome Love by Mitski ("I call you, to see you again; So I can win, and this can finally end")

Blue Banisters by Lana Del Rey ("She said, "You can't be a muse and be happy, too; You can't blacken the pages with Russian poetry and be happy"; And that scared me; 'Cause I met a man who said he'd come back every May;Just to help me if I'd paint; Now when weather turns to May; All my sisters come to paint")

Flash by Cigarettes After Sex ("I'm a flash; You were blinded by the love I had; I'm a flash; The light could only get in through the cracks")

GROUP 3

Cards: The Hierophant rx, 8 of Wands, The Devil, 10 of Swords rx, Wildflowers, Mirror, Keys on a Ring, Archangel Raphael.

You are the temptation, the chaos in my life, the wildflowers that can still be growing but can also be already taken by someone else while I wasn't looking. You're untouchable, unable to be caught, translucent. One minute you're here only to leave seconds later just to come back and stay for a long time. You're unpredictable, a sin worth sinning for. But I hate to be alone and you make me sad. I love to see you but I hate myself when you leave. I don't know if you have any feelings for me; is it something serious or is it just casual and convenient? I can't do this anymore, I'm trapped and I feel miserable. I wish I could tell you to stay away, to abandon me, to never come back. It would be easier for me to move on then but I am a fool for you. I wish I was strong enough to talk things through but I'd rather have some of you than none of you. Then again, being with you hurts me so what should I do?

SONGS:

Should've Been Me by Mitski ("Relive all the ways you still want me; I haven't given you what you need; You wanted me but couldn't reach me; I'm sorry it should've been me"

Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey ("I will love you till the end of time; I would wait a million years; Promise you'll remember that you're mine; Baby, can you see through the tears?; You went out every night; And, baby, that's alright; But when you walked out that door; A piece of me died")

Ambien Slide by Cigarettes After Sex ("Take my love with some pretend; You said you couldn't help it; Had everything that you wanted; When my love was something yours; But now you're feeling helpless")

GROUP 4

Cards: Death, Page of Pentacles rx, The Chariot rx, Archangel Sammael, Eileen Chang rx, Boat rx, Engagement Ring rx.

I don't want to try to fix this thing between us anymore, it's a fool's errand. We tried and it didn't work, it's time to move on to something else because we are just wasting our time and I'm exhausted. Let me go. Let me leave, peacefully. I don't want to fight but I'm frustrated. I think we tried to escape the inevitable but at the end of the road, we cannot pretend any longer. Relieve me of this burden and don't resent me.

SONGS:

Working For The Knife by Mitski ("I always thought the choice was mine; And I was right, but I just chose wrong")

Bel Air by Lana Del Rey ("Gargoyles standing at the front of your gate; Trying to tell me to wait; But I can't wait to see you; So I run, like I'm mad, to heaven's door; I don't wanna be bad; I won't cheat you no more")

Tejano Blue by Cigarettes After Sex ("We wanted to fuck with real love; Wanted it sweet, so pure and warm; And when you say you want it all, I know you want it all; Baby, take it all from me; I always will make it feel like you were the last one; So get in the waves like it was the first time")

GROUP 5

Cards: The Star rx, 7 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords rx, Glove rx, The Phoenix, Paradise rx, Archangel Haniel.

I wish we could start anew, without any bitter history between us that holds us back and clouds our judgment. We cannot fully be together while all these thoughts are troubling us, making us suspicious of each other and insecure. I know we both lost hope for this connection, yet we are still going and proceeding with it in any way we can. We don't want this to be over but we need to find a solution. I want you in my life and I'm willing to put work into it. Are you? Someone needs to make the first step though and it's the most difficult thing to do. We cannot stay still for much longer though. We communicate telepathically but we also have to communicate in real life.

SONGS:

First Love/Late Spring by Mitski ("Please hurry leave me; I can't breathe; Please don't say you love me; One word from you and I would; Jump off of this ledge I'm on; Tell me "don't" so I can crawl back in")

Video Games by Lana Del Rey ("It's you, it's you, it's all for you; Everything I do; I tell you all the time; Heaven is a place on earth with you; Tell me all the things you wanna do; It's better than I ever even knew; They say that the world was built for two; Only worth living if somebody is loving you")

Goodbye Mr Blue by Father John Misty (" But maybe if he'd gone sooner; Could've brought us back together last June; When the last time was our last time; If only then I knew; The last time was our last time; Would've told you that the last time comes too soon")

GROUP 6

Cards: Page of Swords rx, 9 of Cups rx, 4 of Swords, Sappho, Archangel Chamuel, Cupid's Arrow rx, Separation rx.

Do you love me? You say you do why does your love cause so much pain? Why am I in agony instead of being elated and happy? Is this how you show your love? I feel neglected and manipulated. I feel ignored and mocked. Am I your partner or your pet? Do you even care what I want? Do you care what I have to say? You treat me as a child as if I cannot think or decide for myself. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think so lowly of me? When you're not here, I don't miss you and my mind is at ease. I lost all hope for anything to change. It hurts even more because I love you, but your love is weird and dysfunctional. I feel trapped. I even stopped speaking my mind because it was met with ridicule and anger.

SONGS:

Wife by Mitski ("For if I am not yours, what am I?; I daydream I'd give one a name of my own; For even I am on loan; For even mine is unknown; So let me go towards the morning star; With hope it won't disappear;)

Carmen by Lana Del Rey ("Baby's all dressed up, with nowhere to go; That's the little story of the girl you know; Relyin' on the kindness of strangers; Darlin', darlin', doesn't have a problem; Lyin' to herself, 'cause her liquor's top shelf; It's alarmin', honestly, how charmin' she can be; Foolin' everyone, tellin' 'em she's havin' fun")

Hot by Cigarettes After Sex ("Is it all in my head? 'Cause I keep getting scared; That I'll always be lost forever; But I don't give a shit if I'm too delicate; When you hold me, it's always better")

#pac #pac reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #pac tarot #tarotblr #tarot community #divination community #divination #tarot #tarot reading #free tarot reading #pac romance #pick a card reading romance #pick a card romance

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challenger-fan-club · 1 day

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fwb Art who's absolutely in love with you and obsessed with you and who asked to be your boyfriend many times and taking you on many dates but you kept rejecting until one day he gets to know that you're going on a date with someone else so he tries to stop thay date from happening and showing you who you belong to by having the most passionate sex and finally convincing you to accept you as your boyfriend

you can say you don't want this to be Stanford Art but it is.

You've turned him down so many times. But you can't stay away from him. The way he kisses you, the way he touches you. You're needy for him but you know that you can't be in a relationship with him. He's not good for you, not good for you to be distracted. You're not exactly the dating type and Art is almost ready to be a husband. All your friends think you're insane, you know that they're ready to settle down but we're too young and you want to be carefree for just a while. Art is also so very nice, and sweet and kind and you don't want to hurt him when you inevitable self destruct. You rationalise it to protect yourself, it would be like torturing a puppy. You don't want to waste his time and effort. You're doing this for him.

But you can't keep yourself away from Art. You always end up at his door at the end of the night, and he's so obsessed with you, he'll never tell you no. He just makes you cups of tea and cuddles you and keeps you warm. Giving you everything that you want, whenever you want it. "We're just friends with benefits." You tell him and repeat to yourself and Art nods his head as if to say "i know." He invites you to the bar with him, says Patrick and his new girlfriend will be there but they always seem to mysteriously cancel. Patrick was either the worst friend or just didn't exist. "This is not a date Art." He gets you both drinks. He gives you the "i know" nod, slightly hurt, given you a face, slightly like you've stood on a puppys paw. Art asks to be your boyfriend a lot. And you know that you should cut him off and let him go but you can't help yourself. It's like you and Art are magnets or somehow cosmetically intertwined.

Art walks up to you and your friends standing talking. It kills him because he wants to wrap his hands around you like he did in his bed last night. But because you're just fuck buddies, he can't kiss you. He's not even sure if your friends know that you've been seeing each other for the last while. You try to ignore him as you're continuing the conversation as one of your friends starts speaking to him. "Do you know where youre going? and more importantly, what are you wearing?"

Art's ears perk up at the conversation and you try and ignore him again. "I think we're just going for drinks, nothing special." You say softly. "and then back to his? I'm so jealous, he's so fucking hot. I can't believe he just asked you out." You tried to hold back a wince when she said it. You didn't mean for Art to find out about it, at all. Definitely didn't want him to find out like this. He didn't say anything. You didn't want to look at him and you didn't know when he was looking at you. "You should wear that black dress you wore a few weeks ago... and those boots, you'd look so hot!" Your friend continued but you had already withdrawn from the conversation. You knew that outfit worked because Art wanted to take you to the nearest empty room when he saw you wearing it. "I'll text you later, let you know how it goes." You left the conversation. Art stood, making small talk with your friends.

It was around half past 8 when you were getting ready. You were stupidly nervous. You didn't really go on dates, especially with people you didn't know. And you hadn't heard from Art all day long which made you nervous. You didn't want to hurt Art, you didn't know if Art was hurt. He was sensitive so you could only assume that he was sulking in his room. There was a knock at your door as finished fixing your make up. You looked at yourself in the mirror before answering the door. "Hi Art, what are you doing here?" He looked at your face for a moment before letting your eyes gaze over your body. Your curvy hips and cleavage was on show, dress hitting just above your thighs. Art thought you looked perfect. "Are you not going to invite me in?" Art smiled at you. "uhh... actually I'm just getting ready to go out." You were confused. Had he not heard the conversation earlier? You watched him as he followed you into your room. "Yeah, I know... I just thought I could convince you to stay here." He was being very confident, somewhat dominant which he normally isn't it. "Art, cmon." He sat on the bed as he watched you putting your earring in. "Cmon what?" You stood in front of him as he ran his hands on the outside of your thigh. "tell me, you don't want to cancel on him and stay here with me." You were biting your lip as he touched your thighs. "Art..." His hands rubbed up your body to your hips as he pulled you closer, separating his legs, allowing you to stand in between them.

He starts by kissing your stomach. He looks up at you as he pulls your dress up your thighs slowly, his kiss moving slowly down your body. "You know he can't make you feel as good as I can..." he continued to kiss down your body before placing his kiss on your underwear. Your hands were in his hair, rubbing his head, encouragingly. He started to pull you down your underwear as he guided you to the bed. "Art, he's going to be here soon." He just smiled as he started kissing your neck and his hands started rubbing your clit, dipping his fingers into you as you moan against him. "Good, he can hear how good I make you feel." He started to bite at your collar bone, trying to leave a mark. "Artttt..." you almost moaned. "Thats it, say my name, say who you belong to." He moved his fingers faster until you were begging for him to fuck you. Art was really playing a very good game, making you moan, making you a mess underneath him. "You're so good." He swiftly moved his boxers down and allowed his cock to bounce free as he rubbed it against your wetness. He started to push himself inside of you, inch by inch as you moaned. He kissed your mouth, passionately before moving his kiss back to your neck, down to your chest where he pulled your dress down so your breasts were exposed. He started sucking, licking and biting on your nipples as he slammed into you. "Art, fuck I'm gonna cum." You moaned as he quickened his pace. "That's it, good girl, cum on my cock, cum for me, you're all mines." He moaned as he switched between kissing you and playing with your nipples. "you're so good, fuck, you feel so good." He couldn't stop as he started to fill you the second you let your orgasm go. He continued to kiss you and move the hair out of your face. "You're literally so gorgeous." He whispered in your ear as he held his cock inside of you. "when are you finally going to admit that you were made for me?" he kissed your neck. You sighed. "Art, you know..." Art kissed you again. "Don't do this, whatever your worries are about me, we can do it, together. I want you. All of you and you want me, very clearly." He kept your gaze as he held you. "It's all of me or none of me, I'm not playing seconds." The words hurt you and you got a brief moment to think about this being the last time, that the other option was no Art in your life. "I'm happy to wait." He pulled himself away and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You were alone for just a moment. You didn't want you and Art to be over. But you thought you knew how you felt, what you wanted but everything Art said and did, just made your heart hurt. You wanted him. You needed him. When you thought he was mad at you, you felt weak and now he's here. Saying it's him or nothing. You thought you had the power, always telling him no to a relationship but being faced without Art, you didn't want to do it. The thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Shit. Your date. This was your sink of swim moment.

Art popped his head out of the bathroom. "should i hide in the bathroom or tell him to go away?" Art was topless looking down at you with just his boxer shorts on. "Tell him to go away, then take your shorts back off?" His face almost lit up. "So you're finally gonna be my girl?" You smirked at him and rolled your eyes. "I'm all yours Donaldson."

#challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #challengers #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader

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wttcsms · 1 day

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if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | TWO

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn’t get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn’t just a pro soccer player, but also your ex’s rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

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pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 5.9k chapter synopsis the busier your schedule, the less time you can spend thinking about rin. the only problem is, you see something you can't unsee. nothing a bottle of tequila can't fix, right? (spoiler: tequila isn't fixing a broken heart) chapter contains partying and drinking to cope, diet culture author’s notes i have nothing to insightful to add rn, but send me any asks discussing this fic and i will have a lot to say LOL

From: [email protected] To: [USER EMAIL HIDDEN] Cc: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected] + 3 others Subject: 6/19 — [NAME] [SURNAME] AGENDA Attachments: 📎 [6.19 AGENDA.pdf]

All —

Attached is the PDF copy of [Name]’s itinerary for today. Reminder that these times are STRICT. Stay on schedule.

Fumiko Gima

Get Outlook for IOS

Your first alarm goes off at 4:50 AM to what you assume is the noise they play on repeat in hell (By the Seaside, an Apple classic). After waking up, you roll over in your king size bed (the problem with always choosing to go big instead of just going home is the fact that when you’re all alone, the luxury of extra space just becomes empty space) to promptly hit the snooze button. You’ll allow yourself five more minutes of sleep (as a treat). When the second alarm you set up goes off at 4:53 AM (By the Seaside, once again), you scream into your pillow, and shut it off for real this time. You knew you weren’t going to give yourself the full five minutes, but it felt really good to trick yourself into believing that you would. You always start the day with this tiny disappointment; that way, no one has the privilege of being the first person to piss you off.

At 4:54 AM, you slide your feet into your Ugg slippers, readjust the loose straps of your silk camisole, and shuffle into your marble-floored bathroom. You rub the sleep from your eyes, brush your teeth with your pink electric toothbrush, and wash your face. By the time you’re done with your morning skincare, it’s 5:06 AM. You honestly can’t remember the last time you did your own makeup, but you bring your makeup bag with you anyway. If there’s downtime between shoots, you’ll post a faux-GRWM TikTok where you apply three miniscule dots of concealer on your seemingly already flawless skin and add a fresh layer of the brand new, limited edition Rhode peptide lip treatment that Hailey Bieber’s team gifted you. They also gave you twenty grand to do so, with a personal “hey girlie, would love to catch up with you one of these days!! life has been so hectic, sorry for not keeping in touch x btw, i just came out with a new shade of my…” text from Hailey herself. (You replied back with a “yessss, we need to meet up soon!! Also, LOVE LOVE LOVE the new shade omg 😍” — neither of you have any intention for planning a meet-up, and you don’t “LOVE LOVE LOVE” the new shade as much as you “LOVE LOVE LOVE” to deposit a fat check.)

You’re sliding into the backseat of the glossy black SUV parked in front of your driveway at 5:14 AM. Your chauffeur, Benji, holds open the door for you.

“Good morning, Ms. [Surname],” Benji never drops the formalities with you, except for when he’s lecturing you. Thank God he doesn’t own a smartphone; if he saw half the things Daily Mail wrote about you, his voice would be gone from scolding you so much. Even if he’s technically on your parents’ payroll and is paid to make sure you get to and from places safely, it still feels nice to have someone who cares about you enough to call you out on your shit.

The first stop is an exclusive, members-only pilates studio. If you’re home, you have to work out in the morning, no matter what. You like your routine. Out of all the things online magazines put out about you, it’s kind of embarrassing how the most accurate one is revealing how you stay “fit ‘n flawless even after going out every night.” Most people didn’t believe it. Rin got it, though. Rin would actually work out with you, when the two of your schedules aligned, and— Time to start your workout early! Nothing takes your mind off of matters more than focusing on the burn of your core and arms.

By the time you finish your private session, you’re walking out the studio with your puffy tote bag slung over your shoulders. Your body is still a bit damp from taking a quick shower but not drying off properly, and Benji drops you off at your first business stop of the day — ELLE Japan.

You smile brightly as the team of makeup artists surrounding you shower you with compliments. One of the girls brushing on your foundation tells you that you have really nice skin. When she goes in for a second layer, you almost consider rescinding the thanks you gave her.

The set is hectic, as expected. No matter how long these people have been in the industry, no matter how big the host is, something always seems to be going wrong. Apparently, there’s been a mishap over in wardrobe, and ELLE’s people are not very happy with how this is going to delay everything. With your hair and makeup done, there’s nothing for you to do besides sit down, be quiet, and look pretty.

Downtime is the last thing you want. You’re used to a busy schedule, but you convinced Fumiko to accept as many projects as possible. If you have to rank at the top of the list for celebrities who emit the most CO2, then so be it. You’ll pollute the whole damn planet if it means you won’t have a single second to be alone with your thoughts.

At 9:00 AM sharp, you go on your phone to inform your manager that the agenda is fucked. ELLE Japan is definitely going to push back this session with you for at least a good hour, which means Fumiko is going to have to explain to Your Style (the YouTube channel name for a famous fashion commentator who’s amassed nearly twenty million subscribers) why you’re going to be late for the Zoom debrief on what you two are going to talk about in an upcoming video. At 9:02 AM, you receive a text.

juli ᡣ𐭩: u know i love u

It’s two in the morning in Paris. When Juliette said she was going to visit her father, she said it was going to be a much-needed vacation — just something chill and lowkey, like going to all the designer stores and eating croissants on a balcony. Those were her exact words.

juli ᡣ𐭩: [photo attachment]

Somehow, from the neon strobe lights, bodies pressed against one another’s, and the way the image is blurry because she couldn’t get her phone to focus, it feels like Juliette’s “something chill and lowkey” morphed into club-hopping all over France. You roll your eyes with affection. You should’ve known her vacation was going to turn into this; as if Juliette would eat bread for pleasure — she’s been quoted for claiming that carbs are a necessary evil. She probably hasn’t even touched a croissant for the past week she’s been there.

juli ᡣ𐭩: showing u before TMZ posts it juli ᡣ𐭩: [video attachment] juli ᡣ𐭩: do not freak out. not worth it. juli ᡣ𐭩: ugh i knew this club sucked ass for a reason

You wait for the video to load. It’s almost as blurry and unfocused as the original image she sent, but you can tell she had to zoom in pretty hard to capture what she wanted. It’s two figures with a minimal amount of space between them. One of them is definitely a girl; she has the build of the usual French models. A thin, leggy brunette who has mastered the intricate art of Just Had Sex hair. Perfectly messy, but could never be considered sloppy. She’s wearing a sparkly, tight minidress. The fabric shimmers when the strobe lights pass by her body. The person she’s practically pressed up against is a man. Tall, lean. He’s leaning down, presumably so he can hear her better. When the video clip ends abruptly (someone bumped into Juliette, and the video ends with shaky footage and a loud “putain!”), you replay it. And replay it. And then you play it again, just for good measure.

Each time you watch the stupid video, you find something new to notice. Her red lips brushing against his ear. The way his hand hovers near her hip. The way you’re certain she’s smiling when she speaks, like the smirk of a victor. The exact same self-satisfied, smug grin you sport whenever you get a guy right where you want him. Upon every rewatch, though, one thing remains the same: you’re constantly fixated on him.

Right now, it’s two in the morning in Paris. You know that when you weren’t in this fucked up headspace you’re in right now, you’d be in bed, snuggled underneath your blankets, by 11:30 PM. You know that when you felt your best, you could be in bed, whispering in the dark to the person you felt safest with, at 10:00 PM (at the latest, because you both would have a busy day ahead and needed the rest). He likes sleeping early because he likes being well-rested.

So why the hell is Rin Itoshi at a club right now?

At 9:39 AM, ELLE Japan gets right back on track. Before your editorial shoot for a special anniversary edition of the magazine, they get you to sit down to do a video interview that they plan on posting all over their social media.

“This is a very special edition that will be coming out, and you are not only having the biggest spread dedicated to you, but you’re also going to be on the cover. Knowing this, how are you feeling right now, [Name]? This might be the most high-profile photoshoot you’ve done so far in your career, and that’s saying something. You have quite the impressive resume.”

The ring lights are shining directly in your eye. The stool they have you sitting on for this interview is uncomfortable, and you have to focus on remaining balanced. Your back is perfectly straight, and your hands are folded in your lap. You blink, and you see the video playing in your mind. You have God knows how much makeup caked on right now, and you still have a long day ahead of you. Rin is at a club right now. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl, and they’re basically grinding against each other, and he might just have forgotten all about you.

You smile brightly. At 9:40 AM in Japan, you let everyone know,

“I honestly think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been before in my life! This is a great way to establish a sort of, I guess, new era of my life and my career.”

You turn to face the camera directly, giving them a dazzling view of your pearly whites. “Not trying to rush the process or anything, but I am definitely looking forward to seeing how this will all play out in the future.”

You’re operating on autopilot for the rest of the day. The ELLE shoot wraps up close to noon. You forgo lunch, but knowing you and your tendency to skip meals, Benji refuses to start the car until you eat the lunch his wife packed for you. It’s light and refreshing — they want you to eat well, but they’re not cruel. Even if they want to bring you a feast of a nice, hot, home cooked meal, you’ll eat it out of obligation and then suffer the consequences on set when everyone asks why you’re so bloated. You don’t even taste what you’re consuming.

At 12:30 PM, you hop on the Zoom call and pretend to care about discussing matters such as the lack of personal style affecting the younger generations. Every topic is a trivial topic to you. The only thing worth dissecting is that damn video. You should’ve asked those twenty million subscribers to help you analyze that, instead of nodding along when the YouTuber starts going on a rant about how Shein and other fast fashion brands are ruining everything.

Late in the afternoon, you get another text.

kenyu: So the team wants to host a belated birthday party for me lmao. Team’s planning on having it at 10 tonight kenyu: Sending you the address right now

A party is exactly what you need right now. Endless drinks, no need for rational thinking, and you’ll be (mostly) surrounded by people who think models are all vain and vapid. No one there is going to expect a decent conversation from you, and with the state you’re in, it’s a wonder how all your sentences are even making sense.

You give Kenyu’s next message a like in response. You were expecting a club, but when you click on the address, Maps reveals that it’s residential. Rin is gallivanting around European nightclubs, and meanwhile, the best you can do are house parties. This is how the future is playing out?

At least even at your worst, people still think you’re on top of the world.

Maybe life without a man dragging you down and invading your space is for the best. After all, once you got done with all your professional obligations, it’s only eight at night. You’re used to going out with whatever makeup they did for you on set at your last shoot of the day, which is a shame. You have shelves full of makeup that’s been sent to you by different brands, and one of these nights, you plan on just messing around at your vanity.

You like living alone, you decide. You can leave all the lights on if you want, and no one complains about it hurting their eyes. You have full control of the thermostat. You don’t have to fight for counter space in the bathroom. Plus, no one can see how you’re living.

At 9:13 PM, you’re sprawled on the cool marble floor of your bathroom (squeaky clean thanks to the housekeeper you have come once a week), and instead of rewatching that dreadful video and subsequently crying, you had a quick retail therapy session. Your new Prada heels should be coming within the next two days.

You don’t get Benji to drive you. Nobody bats an eye at a rich girl having a driver, but it does seem kind of weird to have him drop you off at a party as if you're a tween girl getting taken to the mall. If the house is owned by one of Yukimiya’s teammates, surely it won’t be too awkward if you had to leave it there because you got too drunk to drive yourself back home?

Because — no offense to Yuki, you’re happy he’s getting another birthday celebration — the whole point of even going to this party is to get fucked up. You already know that Juliette had a point — if not TMZ, then at least Daily Mail will be all over Rin and that girl in the club. If that gets leaked, then you might as well have your own headline to combat his. Sure, lately you’ve been out partying, but that was with other models so it doesn’t raise too many eyebrows. Rin being caught at a club is basically him hard launching the breakup. You need to raise some speculation on your side of things, too.

you: can you get someone to pick up my car from this address tomorrow morning? you: please :)

When you see three dots appear, you smile for real. You can practically hear her sigh and see the shake of her head.

Fumiko Gima: Yes. Fumiko Gima: Be safe.

Aw, maybe your manager does have a heart. Right before you can send her a heart, she adds:

Fumiko Gima: Don’t stay out too late. You have your first shoot at 8 AM.

This is the message you give a heart reaction to. Maybe everything really is just business with her.

You suppose you can’t fault Fumiko for always seeming cold. She’s your manager, not your best friend.

In this industry, her honesty is refreshing. You normally find this to be the case, but you really feel it now when you step into the mansion and hear a cacophony of laughter swarming you from all sides. At every turn, there’s a celebrity with a drink in hand. Everyone’s leaning towards each other, as if they’re so captivated with the other’s words.

You see an actor leading a stumbling model up the spiral staircase. To your side, you see a baseball player chatting up the daughter of one of the baseball league’s board members. Upstairs, someone’s probably snorting a line off Yukimiya’s teammate’s bathroom counter. There are only three reasons why people in your social circle attend these parties: to get fucked, to get fucked up, or to make business deals. Considering the fact that you’ve been here for nearly five minutes and have yet to see a birthday cake — or the belated birthday boy himself — you’re pretty sure everyone here has lot the damn plot for the original celebration.

When you venture some more, you end up in the massive backyard. Some people are drunkenly making out in the pool, some people are watching them, and in a table in the corner, you spot a group of girls giggling and cheering as they all do shots. Perfect. This is exactly where you need to be.

One’s a model; you’ve seen her on a couple pages you flipped through in Harper’s Bazaar. You go up to the table and give her a bright smile.

“Hey, girl! Or should I say Miss Bazaar?” You greet her like how you think people would tease a friend. She’s not your friend; you don’t even know her name. You know she knows your name — everyone here does. And it’s because of the fact that everyone knows you that she lights up when she realizes you’re speaking to her.

A photo op with you guarantees that even if the headline coming out tomorrow is centered on you, she’ll still be in the frame. Daily Mail will add a caption naming everybody from left to right, and she’s planning on being the one captured right next to you.

“[Name]!” She squeals, giving you a quick side hug. “How have you been?”

All your friends, the grand total of exactly two people, know how you’ve been. You grin, pointing to the bottle of tequila they have on their table.

“After how this day has been, I honestly just need a shot.” You play it off like a joke, and as someone pours you one, you add, “Or maybe like five.” They all giggle before throwing back the tequila straight. They might think you’re joking, but this table full of strangers are the first people you’ve been honest with all day.

At 12:15 AM, they aren’t strangers anymore. In fact, you think they might be your best friends in the whole world. You don’t know the lyrics to the rap song blaring through the bass boosted speakers, but you’re laughing as you take another shot. The Harper’s Bazaar girl is doing another shot with you, but she has her phone in her other hand. She makes sure that the both of you are in the frame together, and a second later, she’s tagging you in an Instagram story you don’t bother to view. You’re not even following her.

“Okay, so out of all the guys here, who looks the most fuckable?” One of the girls leans on the table for support as she asks this question. You can’t help but notice how glittery her lipgloss is. Wow, even after all the shots she’s taken, there’s no transfer. Impressive. “I say Theo Sachs.”

“Who the fuck is Theo Sachs?” Harper’s Bazaar asks, and the whole entire table giggles. Honestly, at parties like these, laughing comes easy. In fact, you’re giggling right with them, even though you also have no fucking clue who Theo is. There’s just something so freeing in tequila-induced joy.

“Um, the host of this party?” Glittery Lipgloss says. “Oh my God, girl, he’s like, one of the players for Bastard.”

“The fuck is Bastard?” Another girl asks, adjusting her blue minidress.

“The soccer team!” Glittery Lipgloss is too drunk to be fed up, but you’re sure she would be rolling her eyes if she could.

“I didn’t know we had soccer players here. I only saw baseball players.” Blue Minidress frowns, before adding, “I would totally fuck one of the baseball boys, though. No preference whatsoever. Matter of fact, I could take the whole team.”

Harper’s Bazaar laughs. “What about you, [Name]? Who are you taking home tonight?”

Before you can think of something to say, Glittery Lipgloss groans. “Oh my God, she has a boyfriend.” She looks at you for confirmation. You don’t give her any, but thankfully Blue Minidress has her own insight to add to this conversation.

“So what the fuck does that have to do with her question? [Name], who are you taking home tonight?”

Nobody. Out of every party you’ve gone to this past month, you went back home, completely and utterly alone each and every time. It’s not even because nobody offered — they have — but because no matter how lonely you may get or feel, you don’t like strangers in your space. It took you three months of dating Rin to let him into the penthouse you were originally staying in, and that was with you being in love with him.

Once again, you’re saved from answering when someone behind you goes, “[Name]?”

You turn around, only to come face to face with Yoichi Isagi. On second thought, maybe this isn’t the rescue you thought it was. Drunk You can’t hold back your frown when you see him. He’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt and chinos. He looks perfectly business casual and could pass off as an off-the-clock investment banker instead of the world class athlete you’ve heard he is. Then you let out a little snort of laughter, which only makes him look more confused. You don’t want to tell him that it’s kind of funny how normal he looks.

Not in a bad way. You’re surrounded by models for practically the whole day. Looking unattainably hot or having ethereal beauty is the one non-negotiable job requirement. Even Rin, with his stupidly long lower lashes and impossibly high cheekbones and his pretty boy resting sulking face, is serving standards some male models can’t achieve. Isagi looks like the type of guy you would have a crush on if the two of you were completely normal and attended regular high school together.

But that’s not the reality you’re living in. Right now, you’re getting drunk with girls you don’t know, and every night, you’re making headlines. He’s a professional athlete that everyone at this table would gladly fuck just for a chance to be declared social media’s favorite WAG of the Week. The both of you could have your pick of anyone at this party, but you refuse to let anyone in, and you think Isagi might be one of those intense athletes who only care about their sport.

If that’s the case, he’s doing every girl a favor by not pretending he can commit to anything but soccer. You know someone who could use a few pointers.

“Hi,” you mumble, and then you want to slap yourself because why the fuck are you acting like you’re nervous? But for some reason, you feel like you're a kid caught with their grimy hand in the cookie jar, like you’re doing something wrong.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Well, it’s Kenny’s birthday party. Of course, I’d be here.” You cross your arms against your chest, feeling like you have something to prove. Before Yukimiya became his teammate, Kenyu was your friend first. Like, real friend, not just someone you leave supportive comments on their Instagram post type of friend.

Isagi actually smiles when he hears that. “Funny. I think everyone but Yukimiya actually wants to be here.”

You sober up a bit when you hear that. “Yeah, I couldn’t find him anywhere.” Not that you looked very hard. The minute you found this table of girls, you didn’t bother exploring the rest of the mansion.

“He was upstairs with some of the guys. You know that he, uh, doesn’t really like these types of parties.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You don’t seem like the type to like these parties either.” If he was anyone else, you’d be saying this to flirt. You’re honestly not sure what your intention behind this comment was, either. You’re too drunk to decide if you wanted it to be an insult (some way to defend Yukimiya’s behavior?) or just you trying to make conversation for once (you’re not normally one for small talk).

“Caught me.” Isagi smiles easily. From now and thinking back to Yukimiya’s birthday lunch, Isagi is rarely not smiling. You wonder if he means it. Surrounded by people who only let you drink with them because being seen with you elevates their own status, you decide that the answer to that is a probably not. “I was about to head out before I thought I saw you, and I wanted to come by and…” For a second, he pauses to choose the right words to say. “Just wanted to see if it really was you.”

“Well, you saw me. Guess your business is done here.” Then you swiftly turn your back to him, as if to abruptly end the conversation. Instead, you’re drunker than you realize, and your heel ends up being wedged deeper into the grass than you expected, and you lose your balance. You think you might fall, which would be so embarrassing, but maybe not as embarrassing as what actually ends up happening.

What actually ends up happening is that Isagi is quick to wrap his arm around your abdomen, pulling you close to him as he attempts to keep you steady and upright. The girls looked shocked, but then they burst into another round of giggles, and since you’re not joining in the laughter, all you can think about is how annoying they are. You squirm around in his grasp, ignoring the whiff of fresh laundry you get from being all up in his personal space (not by choice!!!; he’s the one that pulled you in, after all!), and he releases you.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks you. It’s hard to glare at him when he looks so genuinely concerned.

“Never better.”

“Do you have a ride home?”

What does it matter to you? Is what you want to say.

“I’ll call an Uber.” You lie, hoping that this will end the conversation once and for all. Seriously, Isagi just killed the whole vibe of the party for you. You want to go back to drinking.

“But I thought you didn’t do Ubers.” When Isagi calls you out on your bullshit, you soften momentarily. You almost forgot that he heard about your weird thing of having strangers know your home address. Then, you go back to giving him the cold shoulder. Sometimes, it’s a warm and gooey feeling to be known. Right now, you want to drown your sorrows in tequila and be showered with fake affection by girls who probably don’t even like you sober. You didn’t come to this party to be known. You came here for revenge.

(You’re not going to acknowledge how drinking your sadness away isn’t necessarily showing up Rin, but for nearly an hour straight, you hadn’t thought about him, and that’s good enough.)

When you have no response to that (wit doesn’t come easy when you’re in the condition you’re in right now), Isagi looks at you imploringly.

“Let me take you home.”

You shake your head childishly, almost saying nuh-uh. “Just because you don’t like this party doesn’t mean I don’t like it. I’m staying right here.”

He finally frowns. “Fine. I’ll wait for you to finish up here, then I’ll take you home.”

“I’m with my friends right now. Leave me alone.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Which friend is going to make sure you get home safely? Yukimiya already left early.” Despite the two of you not knowing what the other is thinking, you both give wry smiles about that statement for the same reason. The party is still going on strong, despite the guest of honor not wanting to show his face and leaving early.

“These are my best friends.” You gesture to the trio of girls you know nothing about, besides the fact that they can keep up with your drinking habits. They all smile at Isagi, who waves back before turning his attention back to you.

“Really?” He asks. “What’re their names again?”

No one has anything to say to that, especially you. When the silence gets too awkward, Isagi clears his throat and also puts his foot down.

“I’m taking you home, [Name].”

You look at the trio of strangers you just spent hours with. Harper’s Bazaar shrugs, and the other two look away. The sting of not knowing who they are, despite them obviously having enough notoriety to be invited, makes your “best friends” not your friends anymore. Whatever.

“Fine.” You grumble, following Isagi to his car.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Is what he asks you as he signals to make a turn. The clicking of the turn signal is the only thing that fills the silence in the car.

No.

Sometimes, it’s fun in the moment, but that’s only when you’re drunk enough to trick yourself into thinking you’re having a good time. You’re more like Yukimiya (and — gross — Isagi) than they know; the whole “It Girl dominates the party scene” vibe you’ve got going on… It’s just bullshit that your PR team mixes together to get people talking. The high of being adored by everyone in a room vanishes almost immediately the minute you go home and wash off your makeup. In the bright lights of your bathroom, you stare at the sad, lonely girl in the mirror. It’s too dark outside for you to see anything out the window, but you lean your head against the cool glass, and before you know it, you’re waking up…

To Isagi groping you?

You’re groggy and confused and trying to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes, but Yoichi Isagi is definitely all up on you. You’re shocked, honestly. He looks like such a sweet guy! No wonder he was so pushy in getting you home.

He’s holding you in some awkward side hug, and he’s patting down your waist, trying to slip his fingers through the fabric of your dress, and finally, because he must be a novice-level pervert who doesn’t know the first thing about female anatomy, you speak up.

“Gross! You can’t even feel up a girl properly! No wonder you take advantage of drunk, vulnerable girls!”

“Ah!” He jerks back, shocked that you’re awake. Serves the pervert right. He should be backing up. You took a month of kickboxing classes (your modeling agency thought it would be the next big thing, since all the Victoria Secret models kickbox — they were wrong). “I-I wasn’t feeling you up!”

“Then why were your hands all over me?”

“I was looking for your key! You were asleep, and you looked like you needed it, so I just carried you to your door, but it’s locked.”

Oh. Likely story. You’re not letting him off the hook just yet.

“Obviously my front door would be locked, dumbass. Who doesn’t lock their house?” You point to the perfectly trimmed hedges by your door. “Key’s in the bushes.”

Since you’re making no moves to get down on your knees and rifle through the bushes, Isagi sighs and does it himself. When he holds up the key, you nod in thanks, take it, and then proceed to unlock the door using your fingerprint.

He blinks. “What?”

“What?” You repeat back, innocently.

“You didn’t even need the key to unlock the door!”

“Yes, Isagi. Modern technology is something, isn’t it?” And because you feel kind of bad, you offer him the chance to wash up before driving back.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Isagi says from the kitchen sink. You’re sitting on a stool by the counter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing bad.” He clarifies. “It’s just… Rin’s a pretty private person. We always wondered what his girlfriend must be like. Sorry.” He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands. “Ex-girlfriend, I guess.”

“How do you know that?” You’ve been racking your brain, wondering if Yuki spilled your secret accidentally. Or — even worse — Rin himself confirmed it. Rin never even told anyone explicitly that the two of you were dating, so it’s not plausible that he would go blab about the breakup.

“Well, I didn’t really know for sure until I drove you home that first time.” He admits. “I just thought you made a weird face when I mentioned Rin during lunch, and then you started acting funny afterwards. Just had a hunch, that’s all.”

Great. So, Isagi, who’s basically a stranger to you, could read you to filth. Is there anyone else that you haven’t been fooling? How embarrassing. Being perceived sucks.

You don’t say anything else. You can hear Isagi mumbling about something, and you make a half-hearted noise in reply, but you’re sleepy and drunk and coming to the realization that you can’t keep fooling everyone around for long. There’s no point in dancing around the topic of your breakup. It’s getting tiring, anyway.

It is pretty exhausting to be pining after someone who’s not coming back.

Because that’s why you’re trying so hard to keep the breakup a secret. Partly for pride, but mostly because… You’re hoping that after learning everything there is to know about you, Rin Itoshi wouldn’t go so far to cut you so deeply by leaving you. Right? He understood your level of loneliness like no one else, and he related to it. For the first time in both of your lives, the two of you suddenly found the right person to fill in all the empty spaces.

And then he left, and the emptiness just continues to grow in infinite amounts.

You groan as you move around, only to find that you’re moving on top of your bed. You’re tucked into your sheets, and your hair is splayed across your pillow. You turn your head and see a shadowy figure exiting out your bedroom door.

“You’re leaving, too?”

Your throat is dry, and the words come out small. You hate this feeling of hopelessness and vulnerability, and the figure pauses in his steps.

He hushes you gently. “You should go to sleep. You’ve had a long night.”

“Fine. Don’t stay. I don’t care.” You burrow yourself further into your blankets.

“Do you really want me to stay?”

At one in the morning, covered in the darkness of your bedroom, you turn every shadow into Rin Itoshi. You don’t know what you mumble in response, but you know that whatever you said, it’s directed towards him.

#yoichi isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x you #isagi x reader #one shot #fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #rin itoshi x reader #smau #series: if you feel like falling

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a-spes · 2 days

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Hi I was rereading devious lies and I was thinking ab if nat and yn were to meet again and everything, yn would have the biggest trust issued ever. First her best friend took advantage of her and ruined her life, then the ones she considered family turned their backs on her without even letting her explain her side, and ofc how her lover shouted in her face that she's not welcome there anymore and how yn shouldn't even talk with her anymore ever. How the last time the team looked at her it was with anger and dissapointment That and also from the first part where she herself admitted to feeling like a stranger amongst her once friends and family.

Idk what you have in store for us for when you're feeling better and out of the writing block that you're currently experiencing, but I can't wait to read it. Take as long as you need, we're here!

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ₊ ⁺ ✦ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 ₊ . 　 ˚　. ✧ ⁺ ✦ ₊　　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　 ˚　 ⁺ ₊ ˚

₊ ⁺ ✦ ₊　　 ☁ 　˚　 . 　⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　　 . 　 ˚ ˚ 　. ☁ ˚ 　. ˚ 　 ✩ ₊ ˚ . ☾ ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧ 　　˚ ⁺

˚　 . ⤳ DEVIOUS LIES — Bonus part, 'the scars in our hearts' (6.280 words).

⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧ ⤳ SUMMARY — Anon request — “ It has been years since the events, and when you eventually got the chance to go back with them, you thought everything would be the way it used to be. except it wasn't. three years, almost four, is a lot of time, and the people you used to know and the building you called your home do not feel the same anymore. Maybe you've been gone for too long to hope to find a place in their new life. ”

. ☁ ˚ ⤳ TAGS & WARNINGS — Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Avenger!Reader, Female!Reader, Other Avengers x Reader (brief mention of them). Bittersweet, (kind of) angst with comfort. Self-doubt, mental health issues, mention of bad coping mechanisms, toxic relations.

˚ . ⤳ MOODBOARD ⊱⋆⊰ MASTERLIST ⊱⋆⊰ TO SAY SOMETHING ✦ Part one. Part two. Part three. ⊱⋆⊰ the scars in our hearts.

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⁺ ✦ ₊　　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　 ˚　 ⁺ ₊

You’ve been told that you just needed a bit of time to adjust, because you come a long way, but they didn’t say how long ‘a bit of time’ was. So the months passed, they soon became years, and if you’ve still made no progress, you kept hoping. Every day, you repeat yourself that you only need ‘a bit more of time’ and that, soon, with just a little extra effort, everything will eventually be fine.

Except that you’ve never been a patient person.

They made it sound easy. They made you believe that everything would go back to the way it used to be in weeks, and you’ve fallen for their sweet words because you were craving for them to be true. You have dreamed of that moment, and every day you’ve spent far from them was spent thinking about the day they would ask you to come back. It is a little fantasy you’ve been holding on to for the past few years, but the tears, hugs, and excuses you’ve spent hours to imagine never became a reality. No, you only got silent glances.

It has been almost three years since you came back, and it still wasn’t enough. Sometimes, you think about letting go of that dream of yours, the one that makes you believe that things could still get back to normal, even when nothing was —; but how could you do something like that? How could you possibly think about abandoning them again when they’ve been willing to give you a second chance? You weren’t ready yet to accept that the home you’ve been longing to return didn’t feel like it anymore, at least not without first trying your hardest to make things right. Thus you kept pushing yourself a bit more everyday, at the cost of your health — which seemed a very small price to pay in exchange for the feeling of being at home again.

Two years is not a lot of time in a human life but these years still felt like an eternity to you, and you’ve never been so aware of how long they have been as when you came back, realizing the gap that had opened up between you and the others. Your life has fallen apart that day, leaving you with such small pieces of yourself that you weren’t able to rebuild on your own —; but them? It is as if they’ve lost nothing. They’ve spent those two years building a life in which you’ve never existed, one that you are now supposed to find a place in. Every day is just a painful reminder of what you have lost, and will never get back despite your hopes. Your dream slipped away just when you touched it with your fingertips.

You have to accept that you are not a part of the system anymore, you are just the pebble that derails the machine, and that ruins everything —; but you should be used to it, shouldn’t you? To that feeling of shame and sorrow that your heart has been carrying for years, that feeling of failure and permanent disappointment.

Some nights, out of habit, you push the wrong door, and you find yourself in the room you used to share with Natasha. Once full of life, it had now become austere. Yet, there is something comforting about being in that room full of old memories, it is a bittersweet feeling that’s both like a heartbreak and a warm hug. You've never been much of a drinker, or at least you've always been careful enough not to get wasted. But you’ve made an exception tonight, because everything seemed to be too much, and you wouldn’t have survived the party if you hadn’t drowned everything in alcohol.

It is the way they kept laughing that got on your nerves, jealousy rising inside of you every time a new joke was told that you couldn’t understand “because you weren’t here” —; but Wanda wasn’t here either, and yet, she laughed along with them, why? Because she hasn’t lost her place with them, she is still a part of the family. They promised that they would tell their stories and explain their jokes later, because it was too long to do it now, but you were aware that it was just a lie to give you the impression that you weren’t on the sidelines.

It wasn’t very effective.

They spent the whole night telling stories that you couldn’t understand and sharing jokes you couldn’t laugh at, and while they remembered things that you didn’t have a chance to live by their side, giving you an overview of all the things you’ve missed, you were silently sitting on the couch, trying to ignore the knot in your throat. You didn’t even try to take part in the conversation —; what could you possibly have said anyway? You are not sure they would have wanted to hear about how miserable your life was when you were gone, how lonely and desperate you’ve been during these years. It would be an admission that you missed them, needed them.

Instead you kept your attention on the bottles of alcohol, at least they would never let you down —; that’s the advantage when the parties are organized by someone like Tony: you will never run out of booze. You were so uninvolved in what was going on around you, that you missed the worried glances that Natasha and Wanda shared, and they didn’t need to talk to understand each other, to know that they both had the same concerns.

Everyone does, but you’ve made it clear in your first few weeks back that you didn’t want their pity. There was no comfort in the way they looked at you and, quickly, their presence became too much. They were always there, never letting you completely alone despite the appearance and trying to meet your needs before you could even ask, pretending that they knew better than you do —; but they don’t. They have no idea of what you need, because how could they when you’re not even sure yourself?

The loneliness you’ve asked for isn’t more comforting, but at least it comes with familiar feelings, some that you’ve learned how to deal with the past few years. On the contrary, you still hadn’t gotten used to their presence, and you had no idea of how to deal with these contradictory feelings that were starting to grow inside of yourself. While a part of you wanted to lean in their embrace, the other rejected their overwhelming affection. A way of protecting yourself that won out, taking the form of uncontrolled anger and, after days of being yelled at and random objects being thrown at their faces, they’ve eventually got the hint that they should let you alone.

They’ve given up on you —; but that’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?

You can’t be sure, but you are trying to convince yourself that it is better that way. You’re not worth the trouble, and they definitely can’t spend all their energy trying to save you when people are actually dying outside. You would be fine, you would get through it —; right? Because that’s what you’ve always done, and there is no reason that this time would be any different —; you are strong, with or without them by your side. You just need a little bit of time for your scars to heal and then, everything will be back the way it used to be.

Except that, despite the appearances, those thoughts never really left your mind. Sometimes, you think about your return and what would have happened if they hadn’t found you that day —; maybe everything would have been easier. For you, sure, but also for them. You are not even sure they would have accepted your return if they had a choice —; you wouldn’t have. At least when you weren't there, there wasn't that constant tension that now reigned over the tower, one that followed you into every room you set foot in.

So you’ve made a decision —; you would rebuild yourself without them. You would make a new name for yourself, a new life, even if it means leaving them behind. There is this growing will deep inside you, the one that feeds off your anger and jealousy, and it’s the one to get your revenge. You want them to suffer as much as you have, to realize what they’ve done, and regret every of their actions. You want them to crawl back at your feet, begging for your forgiveness because you are tired of being the only one to make efforts.

You have waited so long for them to say or do the right thing, but the moment has never come because they can’t possibly understand your situation, let alone knowing what you really need to get better —; how could they when you ignore it too? Nothing feels right anymore. You have tried a lot of things but nothing works. Your life is now like a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces refuse to fit together. There is no way to make things go back the way they were, you could only keep on pretending.

And so you did, locking yourself into a routine. Each day you alternate between training, going on missions or attending meetings, leaving yourself little free time. This hectic schedule has the advantage of allowing you to avoid the presence of others and keeping you from thinking too much while making you more efficient —; it is perfect, isn’t it? It is, most of the time but, some days, the illusion falters, and the facade you’ve built shatters, revealing the truth you are trying to hide.

That’s how you found yourself stumbling into your old bedroom, the one that now smells of dust, desperate for some comfort and familiarity. You didn’t even make it to the bed, falling miserably asleep on the carpet —; you didn’t have the strength to get up when you tripped over your own feet, too drunk to take more than a few clumsy steps.

⊱ ★ ⊰

There is only one person in the team who is willing to give you the space you asked for without agreeing to give up on you yet —; and it is Natasha.

You may not notice it, but the woman has always been here for you since you came back to live with them. It must be said that her gestures are minute, almost imperceptible, but they always manage to draw a slight smile on your lips without you realizing it —; she was perfectly aware that if you knew it was from her, you would start hating on those little things that made your daily life at the tower a little sweeter.

She is the one who always accidentally cooks more food than she needed, making sure there was always a portion waiting for you in the fridge. She is the one who makes sure that your favorite cutlery is always clean. She is the one who buys your favorite flowers to put them in the common room’s vase and never lets them fester. She is the only one who has taken the time to make you feel at home with a bunch of details that are so insignificant that you’ve barely noticed them.

But at least it helped soothe the guilt her heart carried, because these actions are proof that she was fulfilling the promises she had made to you a long time ago, in the secrecy of the night, under a starry sky, whispered words that has been immediately blown away by the wind —; “I’ll always be there for you,” she had said. “Promise?” you’ve asked, your eyes full of hope. “Promise,” she had replied before your lips touched, sealing the contract.

One she broke years ago, when she dragged you out of the tower without letting you a chance to explain yourself. The woman is perfectly aware that flowers and some meals won’t be enough to earn your forgiveness, but she still made it her mission to look after you from afar —; because if she doesn’t, who would? You don’t let anyone get close to you, and the others haven’t looked any further, giving up at the first sign of trouble. She doesn’t blame you for not trusting her, or the other members of the team, she just wishes that you would accept at least one of their helping hands.

But you’ve rejected everyone.

Even Wanda, with whom you seemed, at one time, to be getting on well which had given the redhead hope. Those hopes had been shattered the day you violently pushed the witch away without any clear explanation, and the woman blames herself for that, for not knowing what to do in order to help you —; because she should know, right? That’s her role, the promise she had made years ago.

If she can’t, if no one can, what will you become?

You may be able to fool everyone, including yourself, into thinking that you are fine, but you won’t get her to fall for your little tricks. She knows the truth. She can see it in your fake smiles, she can read it in your tired eyes. She knows you by heart, she hasn’t forgotten those years spent by your side, and she has become a master at spotting your bad habits and the sublet signs that accompany them.

So, tonight, she couldn't have possibly missed how firm your grip has been on the bottles of alcohol, nor how quiet you've been the whole time. But it is only when she saw the door to your old bedroom ajar that she understood the extent of your pain. You were hitting rock bottom, you would have never set foot in this room full of memories otherwise. She knew this because she, too, avoided it like the plague, and hadn’t dared return in it since that day, not even to empty it. For five years, it had remained the same.

The woman is willing to give you the space you asked for as long as you are taking care of yourself, it is the silent promise she made, but it is obvious that you have failed to do so lately as she has seen you slowly falling back into your old habits. The ones she thought you had left behind, the ones she had helped you to overcome years ago. She is ready to accept that you could build a life without her, it is a cost worth paying if it’s the one to your happiness, but you haven’t built anything lately. Nor have you been happy, and she couldn’t bear anymore the sight of you destroying yourself, again.

The redhead is tired of the situation. She is annoyed that everyone is playing your games by pretending that everything is fine because it only encourages you down this dangerous path, one that may cost your life one day. She is angry with anyone who takes the easy way out, because it is obvious that it is easier to act as if all that history belonged to the past rather than acknowledge their mistakes.

At first, she had agreed to play along, but it was only because she thought that it was what you needed and that, when you were ready, you would talk to them. Except that it has been a bit more than two years, almost three, since they brought you back, and you still haven’t told a word about it. The woman didn’t know how long she would be able to put up with your silence on this story and your obvious discomfort.

But it seems that the sight of you asleep on the dusty carpet of the room you once shared was the last straw for the woman who decided to step in. You are probably going to hate her tomorrow, but she doesn’t care —; she is not even sure you could possibly hate her more than you already do. She would rather know that you are safe, even if it means losing you a little more so she decides to call your name multiple times.

It is the sound of her voice who wakes you up. It doesn’t matter how deeply asleep you were because you can’t ignore her when she practically screams out your name, and you are inevitably roused from your slumber. When you opened your eyes, a growl escaping your lips to signal your displeasure, all you could see was a blurred figure with red hair that could only belong to one person. One you could recognize anywhere.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, a mixture of annoyance and concern tinged her voice, but you weren’t aware enough of your surroundings to notice it. Maybe if your hand hadn’t been so heavy on the alcohol, then you would have noticed the tone of her voice.

‘I am sleeping, can’t you see?’ you grumbled, but as soon as the words escaped your mouth, the frustration was replaced by a laugh —; this question was stupid, you realize. Isn’t she supposed to be a trained spy, and one of the best, too? Then why couldn’t she see what was right in front of her? Something that obvious?

Maybe she doesn’t know either because your question is followed by silence. Her only answer has been to sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose. It was going to be a long night, she already knew it, but wasn’t sure she had the energy to deal with that.

‘Come here,’ you said when the woman didn’t react. Your words were accompanied by the gesture of grabbing her arm in order to pull her toward you, the woman losing her balance because of the surprise.

Since she had found you, you had never asked for her presence. On the contrary, you had rejected and hated her. At best, you would tolerate her presence, but only when your job didn’t give you a choice, and so this sudden change in your behavior disconcerted her, especially the laugh that escaped your lips when she fell on top of you —; it is a sound that she has never thought she would hear again. So pure, so sincere.

‘Get up,’ she coldly says, not amused at all by your little games. If circumstances had been different, she probably would have found your attitude endearing and stayed a little longer in your arms. Except there was nothing healthy about this sudden closeness after months of hatred, so the woman immediately got up, inviting — ordering — you to do the same —; the sooner she puts you to bed, the sooner she can get back to hers.

Tonight, she had no patience. The woman was exhausted, and frustrated —; you weren’t the only one to suffer from the situation. She knows that your clinging state is just an illusion, the result of the alcohol you’ve ingested, and that the very next day you’re going to hate her again. If she wanted nothing more than to believe everything would be okay now, and to find comfort in your arms, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not when she knew she would lose it all again at sunrise. This scene is only a chimera, a reminder of what she had lost several years earlier as the result of her own actions.

If anything happens tonight, you would both regret it. Nothing can come from the actions of two tipsy and exhausted people. Except that your mind wasn’t clear enough to realize it, and all you could think about in that moment was how you were craving for Natasha’s attention. You wanted her to wrap her arms around you and whisper that everything will be fine now, because she is here. You wanted her to promise to never let you down, again. Even if it is a lie. Even if, one day, she will abandon you again —; because that’s what they all do despite the promises, isn’t it? At that moment, you didn’t care about the lies, you just wanted something to hold onto, just an ounce of comfort.

‘I caaaaaan’t,’ you whined, but you didn’t even try to do so. When you stretch out your arms towards the redhead, she gets the hint that you’re expecting her to help you, which she does. The woman knows how stubborn you can be so she grabs your hands and pulls you on your feet, sighing.

Except that you seem to find the idea of testing the limits of her kindness particularly amusing because you make no effort to pull yourself upright, or to stand on your feet —; or maybe you were just that wasted. You’re barely standing when you fall forward, leaving no choice to the woman who has to catch you before you hit the ground.

‘Got you,’ you whispered, a grin on your face, when you felt her arms around your waist.

The thought of dropping you crossed her mind, but all she did was to playfully roll her eyes. The woman should be annoyed by the situation —; right? But how could she when you are so adorable? It has been a long time since she last saw such a peaceful expression on your face. Your eyes were half closed, you looked as if you were about to fall asleep in her arms, and there was a faint smile on your lips. You seemed so content, nestled in her arms with your cheek pressed against her chest, that she hardly dared to move, fearing to break this well-deserved moment of peace. For a moment, it was as if nothing had happened, and the sorrow on your face had dissipated, giving way to a childlike insouciance —; a sight that made her heart melt.

You are the one who broke the silence first.

‘I’ve missed you..,’ you whispered. A confession so unexpected that the woman is not sure if she had understood your words. When her eyes looked down, searching for yours, you hadn’t moved, your eyes still closed. It was almost as if you hadn’t spoken, and that the words had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

‘Me too,’ she softly replied and, maybe, if you had opened your eyes at that moment, you would have noticed the tears that clouded hers — but you couldn’t do that, because you don’t want her to see the tears that you are trying to hold back, right? The one that would just run down your cheeks the moment you open your eyes.

‘Please, stay with me tonight,’ you asked —; no, you begged. You’ve lifted your head until your eyes finally meet hers, both were shining with the tears that threatened to fall —; you are the first one to give in.

The mere thought of Natasha leaving you was enough to shatter your last ramparts. You have just regained her embrace, you don’t want to be forced to leave her now, not after so many years of hoping to regain the comfort you thought you had lost forever. You have been too stubborn to admit that you needed help, and so you’ve spent years pushing everyone away, thinking that you didn’t deserve their affection. It has been so long that you can’t even remember the last time someone held you this way, with such delicacy and care.

It gave you hope. The one that, maybe, for at least one night, things could be the way they used to be —; just tonight, or even just a few hours. You just want that moment to last a little longer, you don’t want to spend another night alone in your bed, in your cold and austere bedroom with a depressing atmosphere. You want more than that, you want a reason to stay, a reason to try again, and to get up tomorrow —; you want Natasha back. You want your old life back.

Except that the woman won’t give in. It is not that she doesn’t want to, on the contrary, she shares the same wishes that you, but her mind is clear, and she knows that nothing good would come out of it —; you can’t get back to what you used to have. You can’t change the past, nor can you pretend it doesn’t exist.

‘I can’t..,’ she softly replied after a second of silence that marked her hesitation, ‘you know that baby, we both,’ she added, the nickname naturally escaping her lips when she noticed that more tears were threatening to fall from your eyes.

She wants to say yes, you can read it in her eyes, hear it in her silences —; then why doesn’t she say it? Why does she keep pushing you away when you are eventually ready for her to be back? Isn’t what she has wanted when she spent all those months begging you to accept her help? It is, but she didn’t want it that way, she didn’t want to take advantage of a moment of weakness on your part. She wanted to earn your forgiveness, to show you that you could trust her again, and if she had to work every day until she dies to achieve that goal, then she would do it.

‘Why not?’ you immediately asked back, ‘you are here, and so am I, and- and our bed is waiting for us,’ you started rambling. You couldn’t speak clearly, the words racing through your head as you tried to convince her, but you knew it was a losing battle. You were so desperate that your hands clung tightly to the fabric of her shirt, as if it could be enough to stop her from leaving. ‘Please,’ you begged once more when she didn’t react. At this point, your voice was nothing more than a broken whisper, ‘just for tonight, we could pre~’

‘Pretend that nothing has happened?’ she softly asked, finishing your sentence, and all you could do was nodding. ‘But you know we can’t do that baby,’ she said, hating the way you were looking at her with so much hope, as if you thought that one night in her arms could ease all your problems —; but it can’t. It won’t.

As she talks, one of her hands tucks a lock of your hair behind your ears. The touch is so gentle that you can resist, and lean into her embrace. The feeling of her hand caressing your head leaves too soon for your liking.

‘Sometimes, I wish that we could,’ you replied, ‘that I could either forget everything, or go back in time to make everything right,’ you confided in her, sharing your thoughts with someone for the first time.

The words have barely crossed the barrier of your lips that you crumble, because you realize that this wish will never come true. You can no longer hold back your tears, you can only hide your face in the hollow of her neck, hoping she won’t see those. Only, each of your sobs shakes your body so violently that anyone could understand your state in one glance. The woman doesn’t know what to do so she cautiously wraps her arms around you and cradles your body in an attempt to sooth your sobs —; it’s the least she can do.

‘You’ve done nothing wrong, love, nothing was your fault,’ she whispered, and you can hear that her voice is feverish —; she, too, is holding back tears. She can’t bear to see you like this. ‘I am sorry, so sorry,’ she added while she rocks you slowly. Those words weren’t for tonight, and how she had to refuse your proposal, but they were for everything that has happened since that day. Those excuses were for all the things she has done or said since but, most importantly, for all the things she didn’t have the courage to do and the ones she couldn’t.

⊱ ★ ⊰

The following morning, you’re woken up by Jarvis, his voice echoing through the room, terribly loud and impossible to ignore. A grunt escapes your lips, you were hoping for a few more hours of sleep —; or best, for an eternal slumber. The night before, like the rest of the team, you went to bed late, and the quantities of alcohol ingested are definitely not helping with your condition because you were the victim of a terrible headache. Only, it is impossible for you to ignore Jarvis’ voice. He has been calling your name over and over again for several minutes now, trying to get the attention you are trying to not give him —; but even with your hands covering your ears, his voice would pierces your eardrums.

‘You are not answering me, miss y/n,’ he stated the obvious, ‘do you want me to warn the others that you are sick? My sensors indicate tha~’

‘Please, Jarvis, shut up,’ you mumble, still managing to be polite despite the rising frustration, and you really hope it will be enough for him to leave you alone —; but anyone who knows the AI knows that these hopes are in vain.

Nonetheless, you have to admit that he is right about one thing: you are not feeling so good —; but who would after attending one of Stark’s parties? He always says that if your head is not sore and your throat is not burning the next day, then you haven’t enjoyed yourself enough. Surely you have enjoyed enough to last a lifetime, although you are not naive enough to swear to never touch a bottle again in your life. Yet, you’ve thought of it for an instant, the lingering nausea making you regret your actions because it gave you the unpleasant feeling that you might throw up at any time.

God, you were weak. So weak that everything was feeling too much right now, even the faint sunlight making its way into your room —; it makes you want to bury yourself alive to avoid all these sensations, and to die. Except you can’t because you have a mission that is scheduled for today and, if you don’t show up soon, they will come looking for you, which is the last thing you want. You have spent weeks preparing for that, you definitely can’t let them down now, especially not because you are just too stupid to know your limits.

You have abandoned them once, you won’t make the same mistake a second time. They won’t be so forgiving this time, no one forgives someone who does the same mistake twice —; no one gives a second chance to traitors. It has been several years since you came back, but you still feel like you are on probation and you need to prove to them that they can count on you. You can sense their hesitation to trust you, even though they insist that everything is fine —; pretending that everything is the way it used to be. It is their new favorite game, but you hate it. Y

et, you don’t have much choice but to play by their rules.

‘Are you sure? Becaus~’

‘I said, shut. the. fuck. UP!’ you yelled, not giving him to finish his sentence, already reaching the limits of your patience, ‘what’s so difficult to understand in those two words?’ you growled in frustration, and you can’t help but throw a pillow at the walls. The gesture is useless because it doesn’t even manage to ease the tension you feel, nor does it convince Jarvis that he needs to stop talking because he starts lecturing you about your actions.

Actually, the only way you have found to shut him up was to get up and join the others for breakfast. Fortunately, only Tony and Steve were there. They are the ones you are going on mission with today, and that’s what they were talking about before you entered the room. Even though you would rather stay alone, talking about missions is something you can do with little effort because it is easy. You need your brain, but you can turn off your emotions. You do not have to worry about saying the wrong thing or how to avoid an uncomfortable silence. It is familiar, and comforting. It has been a while since you've been sitting at this table talking about something else —; when you are not talking about work, you stay silent. It seems that you have forgotten how to interact with them during those years.

As they go through the details of the mission one last time, you are playing with your breakfast, not interested in the oat flakes floating in your milk, nor in their voices that forms a dull hum in the background, their words not even reaching your ears —; because you are thinking, your eyebrows furrowed with worry. Except that your state isn’t caused by the reasons they think it is, neither the alcohol nor the mission are in your mind, only a certain spy with whom you shared a moment last night. One you would rather forget because the simple thought of the thing you have said, and done, is enough to fill you with rage and embarrassment.

‘Hi to the moon, here the earth,’ Tony said, snapping his fingers in front of your face to get your attention, ‘were you even listening to us?’ he sighed, but you don’t notice any annoyance in his voice. Only a sickening worry that you can read in his eyes, a feeling that he doesn’t share and doesn’t hide very well. You hate it, when they look at you that way, as if you could break at any moment, as if they needed to be careful —; but you can take it. You can take everything, and you definitely do not need their permanent protection.

‘No, sorry, I was lost in my thoughts,’ you admitted, giving him a smile that I hoped to be convincing enough to reassure him.

‘Do not worry, everything is going to be fine, okay? We will be here to make sure of that,’ Steve intervened, trying to reassure you about what he thought was the cause of your worries, but his tone didn’t feel comforting to you. If anything, it made you grit your teeth and clench your hand harder around your spoon, increasing your irritation. You don’t really know why, but Steve has been the hardest to get along with since you have come back, maybe it is because of his seemingly false sympathy.

‘Thank you,’ you managed to mumble, even though you don’t really mean it —; it was still better than the snide comment that made its way in your mind. You even made the effort to smile, one that anyone could see as fake, but not Steve, because he never really pays attention to the others.

The words burn on the tip of your tongue, and you have to bite it to not shout out to him what you are really thinking. You want nothing more than to tell him that you are as capable as anyone around this table. You have proven yourself over the last few months, succeeding in every mission they have given you, what more do you need to do for them to have faith in your abilities again? Reach for the moon? Because you are ready to do it if that’s the price to pay. You are desperate enough to do anything they would ask.

In reality, you are not worried at all about the upcoming mission because that is not a possibility. You don’t fail, ever, and if you need to give pieces of yourself and mind in order to complete a mission, then you are ready to do it without flinching.

No, your thoughts were occupied by something else —; or someone else. Something that was more difficult to manage because there is no guide to follow. This person is Natasha, and the cause of your worries is the moment you shared last night because you have no explanation for what happened —; you thought she hated you, and that you hated her. Aren’t you both supposed to despise each other for the pain you’ve caused? Then why do some of you still yearn for her presence? Why didn’t she reject you and, instead, decided to take care of your mess? This even wasn’t meant to be. The redhead is the last person that should have witnessed you in such a vulnerable state, and yet she is the one you have sought attention from, the only one you needed last night —; and you hate that. You hate how your feelings are still the same even after so many years.

That is exactly why, the second the woman that is haunting your thoughts stepped in the room, you left it, pretending that you needed to get ready for the mission. There is no way that the way you walked out of the room, leaving your untouched breakfast behind you, didn’t bring questions to their minds but you were long gone before any of them could say something.

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⁺ ✦ ₊　　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　 ˚　 ⁺ ₊

˚ . ⤳ MOODBOARD ⊱⋆⊰ MASTERLIST ⊱⋆⊰ TO SAY SOMETHING ✦ Part one. Part two. Part three. ⊱⋆⊰ the scars in our hearts.

. ☁ ˚ ⤳ TAG LIST — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @escapereality4music, @fxckmiup, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

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kodared · 2 days

Text

✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰

fears not enough they have to tear him apart.

Chapter 3/?

Wordcount: 2,557 / 7,296

➤ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★ ★ - Also on AO3! - ★

!!! CONTENT WARNING FOR VIVID DESCRIPTION OF PANIC ATTACKS. !!!

...

More than anything you wanted to get away from this human. Your hands finally weaseled their way out of his vice grip as you pushed at his fingers that held down your body. His thumb still pressed across your shoulders painfully as you tried to pry him off.

“Let GO!-“

Ignoring his question you let out a strangled cry, if you weren’t so frantic and lightheaded you might have believed the expression on his face to be pure shock and awe.

“I'm afraid I can't do that, you'll just take off running and I would like to ask you a few questions,”

That was the point of being put down you quipped back in your head. Your voice lost among your emotions as you screamed internally, not wanting to give this scientist the satisfaction of a response. Your hands still pushing at his digits that curled uncomfortably around you. It was pathetic really. Being able to be pinned by the simple act of being held. His grip wasnt even all that tight anymore, adding insult to injury.

The sheer power the human held over you just by existing made you dizzy and nauseous.

He seemed to be lost in thought as he watched you push and practically claw at his pointer finger. He made no move to pin your hands down again so you assumed you weren't doing much damage to your dismay.

That damned jar once again was lifted and set on the desk, before you could stop it you felt his hand tilting so your legs faced the opening.

You tried to stop it by pushing a foot on the rim, but it was no use. All it took was Ford letting go and gravity pulled you down into the glass with a small thud.

Your injured ankle took the brunt of the force, making you stifle a scream as you landed painfully into the glass. All the while the human just pulled his journal closer and wrote.

Stumbling on your feet you leaned against the front of the glass, your hands balling into fists as you hit the thick and cold glass.

“There, now that I'm not holding you does that help?”

It almost made it worse. Atleast he wasnt picking up the jar and taking you down into his lab.

He wasnt speaking, keeping his eyes trained on you and your heaving form. You could feel the beads of sweat practically rolling down your face.

You were stressed. You could feel the buzz of a panic attack under your skin, your fists no longer hitting the glass as you tried to calm your frantic breathing.

Standing was too much to ask of your body too it seemed as your knees buckled and you fell into the cold floor again.

You only realized Ford was still speaking to you when you finally looked back up and saw almost a panicked expression on his face. Your ears rang painfully loud as you tried so hard to focus on what he was saying.

Ultimately it didn't matter because right as you started looking up at him he seemed to panic more. Helpless to stop him you watched as he stood from his desk and you physically recoiled. Half expecting him to pick up the glass and take you down to his lab the moment you stopped being useful.

He didn't do that though to your surprise. He just left the room. You thought that would calm you down but it didn't, the panic in your chest still raged on.

The once uncomfortable buzz under your skin had now circled its way to your lungs. Your breathing was labored and frantic, the only comfort coming from the freezing glass walls of your prison as you pressed against it.

Small droplets of tears glided down your face, leaving an uncomfortable dryness in their wake. You curled up as small as possible, your knees pressing to your chest.

You had been caught.

Your fate was sealed.

He would drop you off at some lab for more testing if he didn't do it himself. He was probably calling someone to get you now.

Unbeknownst to you at the moment he was making a call, but not a call to any scientist. He was making a call to the most brilliant mechanic he knew for help.

…

It felt like it took forever for the human to come back. You didn't exactly trust your time perception at this moment though, he could've only been gone for a few minutes for all you knew.

You stayed curled in your tight ball as you heard him sit back down at his desk. Your body is tense and awaiting him to do something. He was most definitely looking at you, no doubt writing whatever he could into his journal.

You didn't look at him. Straining your still ringing ears to try to pick up anything that could clue you into what he was doing.

You could most definitely hear his pen scratching away at a page in his journal. He wasnt speaking to you directly which wasnt as big of a relief as you thought it would be.

Why did he leave the room? That was your biggest question in all honesty.

A few more moments of silence passed between the two of you. The only sound was your strained breathing that you doubted the human could hear anyway.

Your shoulders tensed as his voice was once again reverberating around you. Still in a whisper despite how loud it was regardless.

“...It didn't seem to have any claws, how would It have survived in the wilderness.. Does it have some sort of venom? No, if it did-”

…Ah. Muttering to himself. Honestly, the mark of someone who was completely sane was when they mumbled to themselves.

You screwed your eyes shut as you blocked out what he was saying. Especially when he insisted on referring to you as an ‘it’.

You were about to yell at him, to tell him to shut up when your ears heard a loud knocking coming from the front door.

So he had called more scientists after all.

The creaky wooden chair he sat on squealed against the hardwood floor as he stood. Your hands clamping over your sensitive ears before the panic that had just begun to dissipate picked back up tenfold.

His hand reached for the jar.

Denial.

There was no way he was just going to turn you into the others so quickly. He had only just discovered you. Surely he hadn't taken enough notes yet to be satisfied.

You reeled backward, your ankle screaming its protests as well as your lungs. The oxygen your brain craves so much is being exhaled much too quickly to be fully processed.

His hand closed around the Jar. Making your body sway unsteadily as you saw the desk below you rising. The glass flooring heavily disorients you.

Anger.

What reasoning did he have to uproot you from your life? You weren't harming anyone. You were being turned into some scientist to experiment on you just for being born. You hadn't asked for this.

You had just as much control over being born a borrower as he had being born a man. You didn't choose this life.

Your hands hit against the glass as more tears began to go down your face. Hitting the floor of the jar with a faint clink.

The human seemed none the wiser to your protests. His other hand going to cover the top of the jar as he swiftly left his room.

Bargaining.

Your whole body was shaking. The desperation finally made you find your voice as it cracked.

“Let me out!- I'll talk!- I can-... I can tell you more! Don't you want answers? I can give answers!-”

You rambled to yourself through choked sobs. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks.

The human didn't stop walking to the main room. You both were now at the stairs when he finally acknowledged you.

“We can all talk in a moment,”

His voice was smooth as if he was zoned in on one task and one task alone.

Depression.

The realization that you couldn't stop him put a new weight on your chest as you fell into the glass wall. Not from your shaky legs surprisingly. The human just wasnt holding the jar with the most care it seemed.

You tried to put on a brave face as he set your glass prison on the kitchen table. You were back where it all started.

You should've been more careful that night. He should have never seen you. You should have never moved into this cottage. More than anything you regretted not being able to see your family again.

You could hear the front door open as a second pair of footsteps joined Ford in the kitchen.

You prepared yourself for the worst. So when you looked up and met the eyes of his colleague you stilled.

“...You put them in a JAR?-”

You hadn't expected that.

Ford seemed shocked at his assistants' outburst. Floundering for an excuse.

“It was the best option! It didn't want to be held and if I put it down it wouldve-”

You could only imagine how rough you looked based on how the other human's expression softened when you flinched at the humans raising their voices.

The other scientist Ford invited over had a very thick Southern accent. You never really heard an accent like his unless you counted the shows Ford occasionally played much too loud.

Thinking back on it this human might have made him watch said shows.

He took his thin-framed glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. Agitated with his companion.

“You called sayin’ they looked ill, it's not hard to see exactly why.”

It clicked in your head now. Ford must've seen your panic as some sort of illness rather than the emotional trauma he was inflincting.

“I wasnt causing it any harm! It even understands English, do you know how big of a find this is!”

Ford was trying his hardest to explain his reasoning to Fiddleford. He only wanted answers from the smaller being. Fiddleford put his glasses back on and directly addressed the creature in the jar.

You watched as he crouched down by the table, causing you to push yourself backward. Pressing against the glass as hard as you possibly could to put distance between the two of you.

“M’terribly sorry for all this. Do you have a name? Mines Fiddleford. Fiddleford Mcgucket,”

He didn't reach for the jar, he didn't even get closer to examine you. He just sat still, patiently waiting for you to respond.

Ford interjected.

“I already tried talking to it directly, but it gave me no response apart from when we were on the stairs and it was just babbling-”

“y/n.”

Both the humans in the room froze at your weak voice. Of course, it was rough and scratchy from your prior sobbing, but they heard it regardless.

“Thats.. That's my name.”

You could see the way Fiddlefords mouth pinched into a small smile. Almost one of pride at being able to get a response from you.

Ford didn't look upset, but he most definitely wasnt pleased at the thought of the creature preferring Fiddleford over him. After all, he had been the one to discover it, it should want to talk to him.

“Pleased to meet ya, I would offer you a handshake but… Well, I doubt you'd be able to shake more than my pinky”

His chuckle soothed you slightly. Your chest still felt tight, reminding you of just how terrible you looked probably as you wiped your tears away finally.

You even caught yourself trying to smile out of politeness before resting your shaking hands in your lap.

You could see the way Fiddlefords eyebrows pinched together in concern.

“Do ya need any water? How long have you been in there?”

“I uh-”

Neither of the humans heard you as Ford stepped forward again and let out a sigh.

“I’ve only had it in there for an hour or so, if we let it out it could run.”

It most definitely felt longer than an hour. Time must’ve been moving faster since you were in such a panic.

Your body instinctually tensed up as Ford stepped closer. Making Fiddleford finally snap as he stood from his crouch.

“I need a word with you alone,”

He didn't even wait for Ford to respond before yanking him by the sleeve out of the room. Leaving you alone once more as you heard the front door slam.

…

“Ford. Ya can't just trap someone in a jar and expect them to be okay. Mentally and physically speakin’.”

Ford was being actively chewed out and by his assistant no less.

He crossed his arms across his chest defensively. His hands tightened on his forearms.

“I never hurt it! I only asked it a few questions, even the Gnome was calmer than it!”

“The Gnome was an entirely different situation! You asked him if he wanted to come with you! You just found this… What did you call them?”

“Parva persona.”

Fiddleford ran a hand through his hair before reaching into his jacket and pulling out his tobacco. Ignoring the way Ford groaned to himself as the mechanic put a bit in his lip.

“Whatever. Not their name anyway. And while yer’ at it quit callin’ them an it. It's dehumanizing.”

Ford unfolded his hands and threw them in the air before gripping the railing of his porch.

“Exactly my point Fiddleford! They’re not human! It's abnormal! By all rules of science, it shouldn't even be possible for something as small as it to exist!”

Fiddleford spit a bit of his chewing tobacco off the porch before slowly getting more agitated with his partner. He could be so smart but so dumb most of the time.

“What makes something deserving of basic decency Ford? Because ill tell ya’, its normally when they look human but smaller and can speak English. I think you even treated the Gnome with more dignity! You didn't trap him in a jar!”

Ford didn't quip back saying he did put the gnome in a cage after questioning it for a few days to research it. He just sighed and looked off into the woods.

“...I just don't want my discovery to run off if we let it out. If it runs I don't think ill get another opportunity for answers.”

“Why not just talk to them? M’sure you could get them to hang around, you’d just have to accept getting answers slowly. An while yer at it stop puttin’ em in jars.”

…That might work. If Ford could make some sort of connection with it he could get more answers than just interrogating it in the jar. Ford could see the look in his eyes and before he could stop it the other man was already going back into the cottage.

With a heavy groan, Fiddleford spat out the last of his tobacco off the porch into the grass before following him.

He had a feeling this would be a long night with no sleep. For both him and the creature in the jar.

. . .

TAGLIST: @i-am-tiredd

Thank you so much for reading!! More updates soon :)

#gravity falls #stanford x anomaly reader #stanford pines x reader #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket x reader #g/t #borrower reader #size difference #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #giant/tiny #stanford pines x anomaly reader #young stanford pines #chapter 3

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l0stfoster · 2 days

Note

I desperately want to know more about the cursed tulsa au! Is it ok to ask you for more headcanons about it/details from the au?

Anon you have probably asked me the question that’ll give you the longest post I’ll ever have on my account because I was born to yap about this. Nothing super detailed or written out, but a lot of little things about the characters and the world around them! Take some of my written 'headcanons' with a grain of salt!! Although I'm kinda one of the writers, I don't want to call stuff canon without input from the others.

You can VERY clearly see who we talk about the most. Any additional fun facts or info will either be mentioned in reblogs or put in a new post and linked here!!

TULSA

200 years ago, the area of Tulsa was cursed by a witch. This witch stated that the poorest born will be shown just as the rest of society views them. Freaks.

A majority of, if not all, of the greasers are cursed. They have to be born in Tulsa for this effect to take place. There are very few socs who are also cursed, but it's a very spl

Those born in Tulsa can leave, but their powers are weakened (or they lose them in full until they return)- this may not be an issue for the human passing ones who just want to live life normally, but folks like Fae and Harpies will likely be hunted down by the government, as their kind isn't seen around. (At least, not to the public eye.)

(Already stated this but I'll say it again) Follows the canon plot excluding Johnny and Dally’s deaths. Johnny ‘dies’ (heart stopped, declared clinically dead— gets resuscitated though) and Dally still snaps and loses it, bolts the second after he ‘died’. Dude gets shot (non-fatally on contact) by the cops, but the gang gets him to the hospital and he lives thank god.

Animalistic traits are pretty common amongst the cursed. Some have horns, others have tails, the harpies have wings, fae have pointed ears and tails, and many of them have sharp teeth.

DARRY

Fae, his power is Emotional Augmentation/Negation & Mind Manipulation. - He can calm people down, elevate their emotions, or clamp down on people's power if they're getting too out of hand. This makes it really hard for him to identify his own emotions. He also has a bad habit of using his power when he's upset, which means it pretty much rubs off on others. He's usually pretty good at keeping it down, but he struggles. - His manipulation is pretty much a workaround for the fact that the fae cannot lie. It pretty much makes him VERY convincing, mind manipulation does that. He'll tell someone something and they'll believe it. Master Gaslighter. That comes with its own issues-- he can't tell if the relationships he's made are authentic due to his manipulation, meaning they might just be telling him what he wants to hear. It bugs him really bad, and he worries that a lot of his friendships aren't as solid as they seem to be.

He had a very messy situationship and falling out with Paul. One-sided crush on Darry's end for a while throughout their friendship (Paul was in HEAVY denial of his own feelings, while Darry knew damn well he loved Paul.) Paul, being the soc he is, didn't like that Darry was "one of those freaks". That was sort of where their friendship shattered, and everything that happened after Bob's death made it beyond repairable.

REALLY hates being fae, and has done a lot of shit to try and prevent himself from being easily identifiable as something not human. He tried cutting his ears off ((due to paul's comment calling them freaks) got caught, and one ear is fucked up now), continuously tried to get his tail injured enough to be amputated (that also didn't work, but now he's got a disabled tail that hurts to move too much), and even gave filing his teeth down a go (also didn't work- made them sharper if anything.)

He doesn't wag his tail, and the gang can’t tell if it’s because he’s never happy or because the range of motion is limited due to his injury. If you’re lucky the tip of it will flick around but he also does that when angry so you can’t tell what the fuck dude is actually feeling

Fucked up his vocal cords growling all the time as a kid when trying to be intimidating, so now his growl sounds like a broken wolf's growl; he can't do it for too long or it fucks up his voice and he'll sound like a chain smoker. (Speaking of, I headcanon he used to/does smoke, just hid it well from Pony n Soda)

Purrs very rarely but when he does, he purrs like a motherfucker. Whole ass jet engine. It is LOUD and you will vibrate if he's hugging you.

His boss is the only one unaffected by his power. "You should give me a raise" 'Not gonna happen, Darrel' "FUC-"

Stole Darrel Sr's name. It's why he's junior /silly

Literally just anxiety personified, tbh. He cannot catch a break and hates himself so bad. He's equally as feral as his brothers but is just VERY good at keeping it lowkey.

All the fae are nature-linked in some way. Darry really likes the sun and warm weather. He's got Disney princess energy too, and animals adore him. (hence Two being drawn to him as a perch /silly) He gets followed home by neighborhood strays and keeps having to tell Soda that no, they can't keep them.

Not even specifically an AU headcanon but when he cracks any bones they pop like forty gazillion times. Cracks his back and it's just a solid 5 seconds of snapping.

Speaking of, he's one of the only people who can hold Two's weight because his wings are heavy. Dude's strong as fuck here for obvious reasons, he's also a little too fast compared to a human, so.

Bites his nails to high heavens. He stopped doing it for a while trying to break the habit but accidentally clawed up someone in the gang wrestling and hasn't let them get long since.

Likes to preen Two's wings, it's the repetitive nature that calms him down. If he's stressed and Two notices then he offers.

Like all the other power havers, he gets super fucking weak and a bunch of other drawbacks when overusing his power. Still developing said drawbacks but I personally imagine he either just gets overly emotional or goes completely robotic and stoic.

Jumped Paul with Dally once bc they were trying to get back all the feathers stolen from Two-Bit. Dally didn't even finish asking who was first before he answered a very flat "Paul."

He's very friendly with Ms. Mathews. She helps them a lot throughout the years and he deeply respects her-- he also finds it very funny to see all the photo album bullshit she's got for her kids. Laughs his ass off at the stupid baby photos of Two n his sister.

HE WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE ON HIS BIRTHDAY. This will be further explained in Johnny's little section but long story short, they were supposed to get into a car accident before the train tracks and Darry would've died. He's got survivor's guilt, to an extent, as his parents wouldn't have died in the crash. Only him.

Had heightened Pony's anger during their confrontation. The guilt still eats him alive.

Unlike the other greasers who's powers weaken while they're sick, Darry's power gets very unstable due to how he's commonly repressing them. The gang knows he’s sick no matter how hard he tries to hide it physically because they’ll be around him and suddenly they’re weirdly emotional, or he’ll say something and they’ll believe him even if they know better.

In alliance with my headcanon for the normal story, I personally imagine he got jumped after his friendship with Paul ended before their parents died (since that friendship breaking apart kinda ruined his alignment with any socs)

Generally just a normal hc but he's got Autism, BPD, PTSD, and a few other things like anxiety, major depressive disorder, and sensory/eating issues. Very financially insecure too.

Used to bite as a kid. That's it. Send tweet.

SODA

Fae, his power is pretty much just a Siren Song. - He can get people to do what he wants with his voice, it's as simple as that. He used it to get Sandy to confess to the fact that the baby wasn't his, uses it to get Darry or Steve to take breaks if they're working a little too hard, etc.

Used his power to get extra cake after dinner or to get teachers to lighten up on him or his friends when they got in trouble. It works very similarly to Darry's manipulation, only Soda's is physical and makes them very compelled to follow what he says. In certain circumstances, people can tell if he's caused them to do/say something. That doesn't stop him, though!

When their parents died, everyone's powers went haywire. Soda had to either scream himself mute or force himself to be quiet so he wouldn't accidentally make anyone do something. He didn't want it to be fixed.

If he overuses his magic then he can't talk for a good few days without it hurting, voice gets very raspy.

Thinks he's a bad person due to the nature of his power. I personally like to think the only time he doesn't mind using them is when it's for the benefit of his friends. He's had to coax Two down from the roof after his jumping because watching all the harpies fly just makes him feel worse. He's stopped Steve from overusing his telekinesis after too many close calls with dropping a car.

Absolutely LOVES his ears and tail. Has a ton of piercings and tries to accessorize them a lot. The polar opposite of Darry in that regard. Likes his sharp teeth too.

His claws are probably the second sharpest, as they get sharper with age IMO.

He's probably the most expressive of the fae; constantly doing stuff since he can't sit still for the life of him. Tail's either swaying, tapping, wagging, or doing something.

Has the growl of a leopard. it is terrifying, when he growled at the socs during the rumble they almost pissed themselves. It scares the shit out of Two-Bit LMAOAO.

Soda has arguably the most average purr out of his brothers, it's basic, simple like a cat's is. He purrs super hard and at pretty much any physical affection sent his way.

When asked for his name by Mr and Mrs. Curtis, he pointed at a Pepsi bottle. Eventually, he swapped it for Soda.

He was jumped by the socs once, and they gagged/muzzled him so he couldn't use his power against them to defend himself. The gang was fucking destroyed when he came home with it, they knew they weren't perceived as equal, but that's beyond cruel.

Also slightly nature-linked. I like to think bees flock to him <3 He's also very good with botany, pretty tied with Pony.

He makes little healing pastes/oils for Darry using Pony's plants when he massages his back.

Soda learned many of his extending-the-truth-to-avoid-lying tricks from Darry, so he's very good at it. Darry is one of the only people who doesn't fall for Soda's shit. Steve doesn't either, just because he feels too bad lying to his best friend.

Soda pretty much gets zoomies. He'll be practically bouncing off the walls and going batshit bonkers. It's insane. Sometimes he's on all fours too, no one knows how he can do it so well.

Arguably the most fae-linked of the brothers; a lot of the little things that don't affect his brothers get to him. All three of them are properly burned by iron, though.

Doesn't like being thanked, as it not only implies being owed something, but he also just feels that he shouldn't be thanked for being kind/having basic empathy.

He absolutely hates salt. Too white for it /j (It's another fae thing, Soda's just most impacted by it)

He's weirdly flexible and moves in super uncanny ways sometimes. No one's sure if it's a fae thing or if he's just.. built like that.

Soda's a smooth talker when using his magic but cannot for the life of him start a conversation without it.

When he found out that Steve's dad was abusive, he nonstop asked for the fucker's full name for DAYS because he was so upset that someone was hurting his best friend.

Stevepop is canon in the writer's eyes, but if you want to you can absolutely read their dynamic as platonic (won't stop us from drawing ship art of them so whoops). I try my best to keep most of the dynamics/relationships open for interpretation (On that note, no shipping the mfs who are family coded I'll actually maim you)

When he snores it rumbles off with a purr. Also sleeps halfway draped over Pony like a bigass weighted blanket.

Yet another normal headcanon thing but he's got ADHD, Dyslexia, PSTD, and DPD. Yeah all of them are a little fucked up.

He collects rocks and crystals. It's a stash he can't bring around Two-Bit because it WILL be stolen.

PONY

Fae, his power is Nature Manipulation - It's honestly just what it sounds like. He can create plants, manipulate them, etc. He's very commonly using them, and they're heavily emotion-tied. Cacti and Venus fly traps when angry, wilted plants and dead bushes when sad, etc etc. The plants he grows most are vines, as they're super useful for him. He can use them offensively or defensively as needed. They have a huge tree in their backyard that he grew.

He's benefited positively from bright sunlight and water. He's incapable of drowning, so when Bob tried to drown him in the fountain he was kinda just,, chillin'. (Unfortunately for these fuckers, Johnny did NOT know that.)

Alternatively, he gets super weak and sluggish during the winter and cold seasons. It's misery for him, he thrives on sunlight and warmth. He's got these greenish-grey eyes when it's the summer/spring and they get super dull during the colder months. Groundhog Day is for losers, the gang knows when spring's coming once Pony starts perking back up.

Plants grow in his hair, mostly little sprouts and flowers like that. Magical flower crowns!! He makes them for Johnny every now and then.

Gets followed by bees and bugs. He both enjoys and despises it because what the fuck dude why are HORNETS chasing him.

Liked to grow flowers to give their mom as a kid, he was a little gift giver to her.

On that note, a motherfucking GOBLIN as a child. Literally, chaos incarnate, absolutely horrible to try and raise because he was so fucking wild.

Does not have spring allergies, lucky fucker.

When their parents died, the house was wrapped in vines for days. Sometimes they still start to overtake and infest due to how many there had been, but Darry usually trims them down went he notices (or when he's got the free time, busy ass)

Has the fattest beef with Steve still. Will trip the guy with his vines and he bites.

He's got a squeaky purr and a squeaky growl due to being young. He growls like a snow leopard cub.

Responds really well to physical affection just like Soda, doesn't always purr to it but does really enjoy it. Avidly avoids it from Two bc the stupid bird will try to preen him and he thinks it's goofy /silly

QPR with Johnny. Pony represents life and Johnny represents death. They hold hands, are the besties ever, and are extremely codependent. Do not romanticize their relationship I'll eat your knees.

Pony knows a lot about flower meaning, as he should. He's also very good with botany too.

Instead of Tim stepping on him in the rumble, he ate shit and got smacked really hard by harpy wings. Two and Tim still aren't too sure which one of them did it.

Very little thing but he has a tooth gap.

Pony tried doing a Darry n attempted to cut his ears to look more human while at the church. It didn't work, so now he's got two little rips that look similar to if you had a piercing torn out. He's generally got mixed feelings about his features.

Tries to keep his emotions on the down low for the sake of looking like a tuff adult, but his tail is constantly giving him away.

Pony made them a fairy around the house with his plants, and it serves as a little thing that lets any of the Curtis' know if someone enters the hours whether they're at home or not. If Pony doesn't want someone at the house while they're away then his vines will yoink them out.

Choosing his name was just him saying a random word in a very ominous voice. Darry added the 'boy' to the end of it.

He makes flower crowns for the hell of it, just likes having his hands moving. Either the gang gets them or they get tossed in a misc pile.

He is SO fucking bad at trying to extend the truth, absolutely miserable at it. He cannot gaslight at all.

Due to his power being weak at Windrixville, he had tried and failed to save Johnny with his vines. Instead, they were pulling him back in a subconscious effort to save himself; plants don't go well with flame, after all.

Had to quit smoking post-Windrixville because the smell bothered him really hard. His voice was kinda fucked up after too due to the smoke inhalation as well.

He's got little burn scars on his hands from grabbing the iron gates at the cemetery where their parents are buried too many times. Darry thinks he's a moron for it.

Clings to Ace like a motherfucker during the winter because she's naturally VERY warm.

Darry has to hold this bitch down to cut his nails when they get too sharp because he'll scratch a bitch while wrestling and play dirty.

Mental stuff again; Autism, PTSD, and Sensory Issues. Also kind of an addict.

He hasn't reached the full potential of his powers because he's still going through puberty.

Poy thrives off sugar, being plant-based and all.

STEVE

Human, but his power is Telekinesis. - It's very simple to explain. He's capable of lifting this with his mind and little physical action. There technically isn't a weight limit, but if he lifts something too heavy for too long it'll drop and he'll be REALLL fucked up, it's exhausting to use too much. Alas, that doesn't really stop him. If he gets pissed off things start floating around him.

REALLY likes to throw cars. It's just showing off honestly. He likes doing little things like that for the hell of it.

His dad makes him float beers to him and he'll very bitterly do it. One time he did it a little too fast 'on accident' and held back smiling as his dad bitched about getting covered in beer.

If substitute teachers are unaccommodating assholes he hucks desks at them. Detention is very worth it.

His telekinesis makes him seem physically stronger than he actually is. When it came to Two-Bit perching on the group, the people who could do it were Dally, Darry, and Steve-- until they found out that Steve was just using his telekinesis to hold him up. He dared to do it once without and long story short they ended up on the floor.

Steve isn't super affected by Soda's magic, but he does stuff for him just 'cause Soda's his best friend.

He uses his telekinesis to fly around with Two sometimes. That sort of stops after Two's wing ends up fucked. Every now and then, though, he'd use his power to give Two-Bit the feeling of flying again. They both go home bummed, Two because he’s no longer ‘flying’ and Steve because he hates knowing he can’t actually help

He did most of the work making a prosthetic for Two, and Soda helped a hell of a ton too.

He can't lie to save his life, just 'cause. He also can't whistle.

Arguably even more autistic for cars like this because of how easy working on them becomes with telekinesis. Floats them up himself to work under them.

Speaking of that, he'll float Soda up to the ceiling if he pesters him too much while he's working on a car. Needs to be absolutely locked in and Soda interrupts that.

He may be human passing but he doesn't... look right. His limbs and fingers are too long for a person.

Was STRUGGLING after the rumble. Had to deal with the pain of bones being too stretched plus broken ribs and fucked up knuckles.

He's got a complex that he's only good for his powers. It's a big sense of insecurity for him. It doesn't help that his powers tie to his mood sometimes too. He's had too many close calls dropping a car he's underneath and almost crushing himself because something gets to him. "You good, Steve?" (literally shaking) "Yeah I'm great"

Soda has to use his magic to force him to take a break, cause Steve doesn't want to stop because he thinks they're all he's got that makes him good at what he does.

His dad was born poor and in Tulsa. Steve isn't too sure what his curse is, but he doesn't want to find out.

He's got a crush on Soda that he, for a while, keeps mistaking for a heavy amount of admiration. You don't want to be him, Steve, you want to be WITH him.

He's got fragile bones like the harpies, the only difference is that his isn't biological and is due to his telekinesis stretching his bones out.

Yeah also mentally ill. Autism, PTSD, and CDD.

Idly floats himself for the hell of it sometimes. If Soda calls him short he'll bitterly float up to match his height or be taller.

TWO-BIT

Crow Harpy. No power besides that I think

He's got all the mannerisms of a crow and of birds in general. He likes to give his family and the gang shinies; flies by and drops bottlecaps or random little trinkets and dips. Sometimes physically throws them at people.

He dives at people in the street sometimes if they have something shiny. He’ll also dive-bomb friends and just pick them up like a claw machine. Dally’s the most common victim of this.

He's very intertwined with the bird instincts too. Nests, preens, chirps, whistles, etc. Very fucking loud and will not shut up. Clicks when he's all angry and shit.

Two’s mom is a harpy and his dad is human. Neither of them took after him, and he wasn’t happy about that. Two-Bit constantly had his needs and habits as a harpy repressed by his father; this included having his feathers clipped and not being allowed to preen or nest. His mom wasn’t able to do anything about it for a while, as she was too busy working to keep a roof over their heads.

He knows she is doing her best, and he doesn't blame her for not being able to protect him from that. Two's a huge mama's boy. he used to hide in her wings when he was little.

He taught his sister to fly and had taught himself by jumping off the roof. It’s why he’s got his tooth gap.

His mom has a photo album of him and his sister as they grew, including their feathers as they molted. "Baby's first molt!" and he looks like a blended-up cotton ball. Darry loves these photo albums.

Dally calls him Songbird and Freckles. Two calls him Dimples

He likes to bleach the tips of his feathers and dyes them with his sister, since her feathers are still light enough to dye without bleach.

He preens with the gang and will also try to preen the gang. It’s a bonding activity but bc they don’t have feathers it’s usually just him fucking around with their hair. It usually ends with them wrestling a pissy bird that by god NEEDS to get that knot out of your hair or he will tweak. Pony hates it the most, Darry and Soda are the only ones who don't resist.

If Darry whistles around him he'll shoot over and perch on the guy.

Even bigger kleptomaniac in this. Always has something, Dally's been given at least six switchblades over a week.

He can mimic voices and sounds really well. Uses Johnny's voice to get Pony's attention once. "Oh so you'd get up the second Johnny calls BUT WHEN I DO YOU IGNORE M-"

Horrible flier when drunk, it's hilarious to watch.

If you throw a piece of cloth thick enough to block out light over his head, he falls asleep.

Cannot for the life of him get through doors on the west side because they aren't friendly for wings.

His heart beats like 200+ times per minute. Everyone thinks he's having a heart attack or something when they first hear it.

Alternatively, he thought Dally was dying when he first heard how slow his heartbeat was.

He goes into torpor during really cold winter days or if he's super fucking exhausted. Went into torpor right after his jumping and Dally was convinced that he was dying.

Two gets very territorial and defensive of the gang because they're "his flock". Gives people death stares if they're getting too close. He looms threateningly over the shoulders of his friends if he doesn't like the person they're talking to. It usually scares them off.

He likes to take the gang and his family for flights. Scoops em up and just goes, most of them enjoy it, the ones with a fear of heights? Not so much.

If the younger members of the gang get sick he WILL shove them in a nest and pretty much hover over the person. He gets mama-bird traits from his mom.

Alternatively, even if Darry gets sick Two will hover over that motherfucker. He will wrap that man in a blanket and not let him leave. Just swaddles all the fuckers.

He's got good timing with dive-bombing people. Darry fell off a roof once and BAM suddenly he's in the arms of a very energetic harpy.

Was a really small kid and just shot up overnight. One day he was up to Dally's chest and the next he was at his nose. Dally hated it.

He's docile by nature but when he gets violent it's HELL. He's got sharp claws and talons along with sharp teeth, my guy can do some damage.

Two hates cats and has absolute beef with them. He and the rest of the harpies are scared shitless by Soda's growl too, if Soda growls he whips his head around 180 and looks around frantic. Soda both feels bad but laughs his ass off.

Two (and the other harpies) can't see glass. He's walked into the glass at the DX and slams his head against car windows trying to look outside. He's absolutely mesmerized by glass cups because why is the water FLOATING?

He has to sit in the bed of Darry's truck because his wings don't fit.

The gang went to a mirror maze once and Two got stuck in it for 2 hours. Came out with a busted nose all pouty because those mfs left him in there how dare they.

The Curtis boys can mimic bird sounds really well, they whistle at Two-Bit and his head shoots up at attention.

He's afraid of ceiling fans.

Harpies generally don't like eating bird meat due to etiquette and cultural stuff, but Two's dad would force him to eat chicken as a kid.

He adores seafood and goes fucking bonkers for it.

He got struck by lighting once. Walked into the Curtis' house singed and just went "So I might've made a mistake." Somehow he wasn't too hurt.

He tries to puff up to look intimidating but people just laugh because it's fucking cute. If he wants to look scary all he has to do is smile, yet he doesn't.

He emotes a lot with his ear feathers, they're constantly moving.

Like most birds and other harpies, his bones are hollow. They're arguably made of stronger bone material but the insides are hollow so you can snap 'em with ease if you put enough force behind it.

His neck is like a chicken's, if you move his body his head will stay in one spot if he wants it to.

He liked to just sit and linger on Dally's shoulders when they were kids. Dally didn't mind.

His feathers travel up to the back of his neck and hair; the ones up top closer to his hair are a bit curlier.

The gang can play one-sided fetch with him if they want to. Toss a shiny and he dives after it; he just won't bring it back.

He's got a whole drawer that's just full of the shit he collects. Bones, bottle caps, coins, broken jewelry, glass, etc.

He gave everyone in the gang one of his feathers. All of them wear it on their person.

There's a rumor going around in soc society about Mothman. It's just Two-Bit in really bad lighting. He got moth man status because a soc was closing a shop one night and turned and just saw these BIG ol glowing eyes staring through the window in the darkness of the evening.

He goes after rodents and small bugs. His mom used to have to wrestle mice out of his mouth and he'd cry after.

His baby photos are 90% blurs and heaps of feathers because he ALWAYS had zoomies. The only photos he's peaceful in are the ones where he's snoozing.

If they were invented in their time, Darry would put claw caps on Two if he's resisting having his talons cut. They'll watch him try his damn hardest to just tolerate them before eventually relenting like "oKAY FINE I'LL CUT THEM."

In terms of a specific species, he's a Fish Crow.

TWO-BIT CONT.

His jumping went REAL fucking bad in this. Bev took a lighter to his wing and put her cigarette out between where they met on his back (alongside still burning his face). They didn’t go for both wings, because something was much more cruel about taking one rather than both.

That shit fucked him up for so long, not only was he unable to fly, but there was all that physical and psychological pain that came with having his freedom torn from him. He was made for the skies and now he’s forced to wander the ground with the same people who hurt him.

He self-isolated up until the rumble because he couldn’t stomach the idea of the group seeing how ‘gross’ his wing looked. His mom cried her eyes out when he came home after being jumped, even though he tried hiding the damage from her.

She tried to preen him to make him more comfortable but they couldn't get more than halfway through before he broke down sobbing. “Why couldn’t I have just been normal like dad” when his mom’s preening him bc he doesn’t want to keep feeling the pain in his wings. For a few days after he hesitated even letting her near just because the pain scared him.

HATED Marcia for a good bit after his jumping. She didn't partake in it, sure, but she watched and did nothing. It took months before he could even stomach looking at her.

When his wings recovered, he used to climb on the roof and watch the other harpies fly. He'd feel the breeze through his feathers and against his face and try to convince himself that just maybe, he was up there with them. Soda has to coax him back down with his power because he is only making himself feel worse. Two was bitter at the other harpies for a very long time.

Can't handle the smell of smoke from cigarettes, though. Fire itself in some cases (mostly Ace's fire) is fine, it's cigarettes that bother him.

School was hell on earth for a good while because tight spaces and sensitive wings don't go well. He usually ended up late to classes bc he had to wait for the halls to clear to leave. He would've dropped out over it if he wasn't afraid of upsetting his mom.

His balance was fucked up for a good while due to the difference in weight.

Steve and the rest of the gang made him a prosthetic for his wing. He cried, and it fit like a glove.

Despite getting that freedom back, though, he kind of hates it. He has to relearn to fly, and it's frustrating it causes a lot of resentment because he used to be able to fly perfectly and now he struggles. He hates that he needs to rely on this prosthetic to be free.

Two-Bit and Johnny bond over having had a part of their freedom taken and now needing aid to regain it.

There's no canon ship for Two in this but the writers fuck with Dar-bit and Mar-bit hard lmao. I'll probably be doing a lot of Dar-bit stuff for them.

AuDHD and PTSD, send tweet. Maybe ODD but I'm still thinking about that one. Major separation anxiety.

JOHNNY

Human, he's what we've been calling Death Tied - He's got a sixth sense where he can tell if, when, and how a person will die. If a person's death is coming up, he'll get flashes of the event; what killed them, their corpse, etc. It freaks him out sometimes, depending on who it is. I like to imagine he gets ‘death chills’; which is a similar thing to impending doom, only he feels it for others.

His curse was NOT biological. As a kid his parents almost killed him; Death saw this, decided it was fucked up, and decided to take in this small child as its own.

Johnny's teeth are just a little too white and his eyes a little too black sometimes. He’s got something akin to vitiligo after he received death’s blessing, and it outlines and mirrors the shape of his skeleton.

Butterflies follow him since he's death; unlike Pony, who has beef with the bees that follow him, Johnny enjoys their presence.

Doesn’t like to use his power much but (pre-jumping) absolutely will tell a soc with a flat expression when and how they’ll die.

He’d saved Darry from dying at the cost of Mr and Mrs Curtis’ lives. Initially, Darry had been planning to join their parents on the car ride to get the chocolate frosting; and Johnny had come over early to get away from home as they were getting ready to leave. He’d barely gotten to walk past the fae when he got the flashes occurred. Johnny watched everything— saw the crash, the way windows broke and metal crumpled inwards; watched the life drain from Darry’s eyes— and it freaked him out. He couldn’t for the life of him explain what he’d seen, but he wouldn’t let Darry leave; clung to him and wouldn’t let go.

Darry tried using his manipulation to get Johnny to let go, but it didn’t work, and that’s what stopped him from leaving. Their parents went alone, and it was the delay in waiting for Darry to come to the car that caused them to be on the tracks that day.

Johnny hasn’t forgiven himself for it. He thinks that maybe, he could’ve done something different and saved them all. He apologized for weeks— and still apologizes sometimes nowadays.

Johnny has never feared death, it’s hard to when you’re related to it yourself. When Bob died, he didn’t feel remorse until a few minutes after he was stuck there with the corpse. He's the boy of death, this is his normal- it’s only when his humanity returns that he realizes what he’s done.

The only time he's feared death was during/after the church fire. His power practically disabled itself due to how weak he was, and he was terrified. This was going to be it, he was going to lose his life at 16-- and then he woke up in the hospital.

While he was clinically dead, he spoke to Death. It was a simple interaction, just a reassurance that it was not his time to go yet. There was a feeling of comfort in their words, too.

Sometimes, when he sleeps, he sees Death again. One of the first times they'd spoken was when Darry was supposed to die. "Hey bud, that fae was supposed to die-" "No."

Before they could afford to get him mobility aids, Steve and Two helped him get around.

He's got a really uncanny feeling about him, people do not usually like it- Dally enjoyed it, though, 'cause he's fucking bonkers. It doesn't help that he doesn't blink.

He can easily float on the surface of bigger bodies of water because corpses float in water after they begin to decompose.

He's unnaturally cold like a corpse, the cold doesn't bother him because of that, but he does like feeling warm.

GAD, C-PTSD, and Autism. He's also selectively mute but is very vocal with the gang

Johnny still smokes, but being around the smell of smoke for too long makes him panic.

DALLY

Human, he’s the only one of the gang without a curse. However, he’s recently discovered a bit of an,, unsettling change to his daily life.

Dally's been seeing things. Apparations, spirits, whatever you want to call them. He'll see them in the corner of his eye and in certain circumstances can engage with them directly. He's not a fan of it.

Born in New York, moved to Tulsa when he was around seven; Two-Bit welcomed him with a stupid amount of enthusiasm and they’ve been buddies since.

He doesn’t talk about his birth family, no matter how much prompting there is. As far as he’s aware, Buck’s probably the closest thing he’s felt to an authority figure— at least until he grew older and colder, ignoring the role the adult had in his life.

He’s only capable of holding Two’s perching weight because he’s been doing it since they were kids.

He's very good at coping with his chirps too. Likes to whistle and watch that bitch shoot up and stare.

Dally tries his damn hardest to downplay how much Two (or any of the other greasers) mean to him. Vulnerability like that makes him feel too weak, and after having shown that weakness once, he doesn't plan to do so again.

Met Death while unconscious after being shot by the cops. The only reason he's alive is because Johnny would've been destroyed, and Death didn't want to deal with that shit.

Sometimes he feels a little weird about being the only human, but it's more out of a sense of not necessarily belonging there. It's an unconscious thought, one that only manifests in the rare moments when he realizes he feels just as out of place as he did in NYC. Dallas Winston is merely a boy who has never felt at home.

Dally, funnily enough, doesn't pass well as a human. Everyone outside the gang is convinced he's a vampire because he's so pasty and his canine teeth are naturally sharp.

He successfully convinced the gang that he could talk to and control rats. Two is the only person who knows he lied because he bought him a rat once and nothing happened.

He finds out through Two-Bit and Ms. Mathews that Fae can't lie and uses it to blackmail the Curtis bros, since nobody else knows that.

Yknow how he can see ghosts? One time he woke up on the Curtis' couch to Mr and Mrs Curtis in the living room. It freaks him out so bad that he unconsciously blocks them out right after. Blinks really hard a few times until they're gone.

He's the most feral of the gang. It's the New Yorker in him. He's not supernatural, sure, but he will fuck shit up. Absolutely off his rocker, launches people, and rocks their shit.

Dally's the one who found Two-Bit after he got jumped. He's so pissed ab what happened with Pony n Johnny that he wants some sick gratitude by seeing exactly where Bob took his last breath, so that’s where he finds him. He didn't know how to react, panicked HARD.

He's arguably the closest with Johnny and Two-Bit, he's just more open about that connection with Johnny. He's also pretty good friends with Darry, as there are a lot of little things they've found mutual ground on.

He's got claw scars littered around from the harpies. The ones from Two are due to the fucker dive-bombing down to grab him with his talons a little too fast, and the others are from fist-fighting Tim.

He called Ms. Mathews mom once and has not walked physically into the house since out of pure embarrassment. He doesn't even stand on the lawn that's how embarrassed he is by it all.

More general headcanon stuff fuck you but BPD, PTSD, intermittent explosive disorder, and ODD too.

Also a general headcanon but Two-Bit convinced him to get a tattoo during one of his own sessions for his sleeve, so he's got a little switchblade on the back of his leg.

He thought Two-Bit was having a heart attack the first time he heard how fast his heartbeat was.

Non-Canon but a fun fact. If he did die to the cops, he would've come back as a ghost.

ACE

Human, arguably the least passing as one, and she's got pyrokinesis - As usual, it's very self-explanatory. She can create and control fire with the mind, but there are a few limits to it. She can't produce large flames from her hands, and so she usually has to carry a lighter to kickstart her power if needed.

Ace can make very small fires on her fingers but they're not usually big enough to be manipulated. She can go larger as needed, but it'll drain her out. Likes to just light people's cigarettes and make the flame jump from finger to finger.

When she gets super pissed off, her hair sets on fire. The gang uses her to roast marshmallows sometimes.

Ace is unofficially adopted by Mrs. Mathews. The general idea is that she found her coming home one day, assumed this was a lost child, bought her home, and the kids bonded while she tried to get information about the girl's parents. At dinner was told some shit like “Mommy n Daddy dropped me off n said to wait :) That was two days go!!” and. Safe to say Ace hasn’t left since.

On that note, has a very familial relationship with Two and his sister. They grew up together, how could they not be? They're absolute fucking chaos when paired, though. She likes to call him any bird other than a crow to see him puff up all annoyed.

She used to threaten to turn him into Thanksgiving dinner if he kept pestering her.

Absolute fucking goblin. She has tried so hard to convince Cherry to help her burn half of the soc's houses down. "We'll spare yours don't worry!!" "N..No."

She can't really swim and it could arguably kill her if she's in water for too long, but if she's mad the water will boil away.

VERY warm by nature for obvious reasons, literally a space heater. Pony flocks to her in the winter because she's so warm

Looks the least human of the humans. She's got horns underneath her hair that are still growing more, and her hands are coated pretty permanently in ash. She gives off a subtle glow and her eyes/teeth look way too bright in the dark. Her eyes burn brighter when she's upset.

Normal headcanon but arguably has the second-worst criminal record in the gang.

She feels very guilty about her power due to how much trauma the others in the gang have gone through relating to it.

Unrelated to the AU itself but she's a lesbian. IDGAF what anyone says.

Ace infatuates Two-Bit by putting on a ring and waving her fire fingers in front of his face. The fire's light bouncing off it makes it look extra shiny, she uses it to get him to do stuff for her. "Oo oo you wanna buy me a Pepsi soooo bad"

Literally just bullies him. They have no clue who's older because Ace doesn't know her birthday but she's self-titled him as her little brother.

Couldn’t control her powers as a kid, the gang is quite literally the first group of people who understood that and didn’t isolate her because she kept accidentally burning them when she got too excited (its emotions tied to an extent, hence why she’s started only channeling it by bottling up her anger until she needs to burst)

If Ace uses her power too much she quite literally burns out. Can’t use any part of it for days and is super fucking exhausted. Winter is her absolute beloathed because it’s a pretty similar feeling she gets. She's very susceptible to frostbite.

She used to make jokes about burning Two’s wings off whenever he’d bother her. For a good while she’s way too afraid of even being close to him after his jumping because she doesn’t want to hurt him with her flames. Two trusts her in full even after the accident but her ass is NOT taking any risk, he thinks he pissed her off somehow for a while until it clicks when he watches her extinguish whatever little flame she’s fidgeting with on her fingers the second he walks in. “I trust you." (wearily) “Should you?”

PTSD and ADHD, along with some pretty bad sensory issues & maybe Pica.

Had a really toxic situationship with Bev. She couldn't see the red flags until Bev harmed one of her own. Their relationship was broken off the mere second she found out who hurt Two. Literally blew up at Bev and burnt herself out due to being so fucking angry. It parallels Paul's "Why would I like a freak like you" towards Darry with Ace telling Bev "I can't believe I loved a monster like you."

Rarepair/Crackship time. Ace x Cherry is canon. We call them Fireworks. They're very slow burn. Cherry needs to come to terms with her feelings and Ace needs to trust another soc again after what happened with Two n Bev.

OTHER CHARACTER THINGS

All of the Shepards are Vulture harpies.

Paul and Cherry of two of the only socs with powers. Cherry's got something akin to electrokinesis and makes little sparks with her hands similar to the way a bomb with a lit fuse would behave. Paul's a witch, but his manifested pretty late; probably post-rumble.

Cherry's fingertips are calloused from her sparks, and she's got a bit of resistance to fire. Her hair sparks like a bomb/fireworks when she gets super pissed off. Ace has tried to weaponize this for the silly.

She tries to hide her sparks. Wears gloves to keep them down and if she has to have them off will clench her fists, even if it burns her.

She's desperate to be good enough to her parents. They're ashamed of her due to her sparks, and all she wants is their approval.

Cherry's got major internalized homophobia for a while, very comphet. Eventually, she comes to terms it.

Paul tweaked the fuck out at first and had a panic attack before realizing he kinda fucked with it. Still has a huge bias against the greasers, though. It's something close to a god complex, but he just thinks he's superior due to his financial status as well. He's just got basic shit like rituals and spells.

Was convinced Darry was using his power on him when he confronted him about the Fae having loved him, cause he cried. It wasn't a heavy cry, just a bitter stare, "Why would I like a freak like you?", and silent tears. Darry still doesn't know how to feel about that.

(9/18 Edit: Take the Paul stuff ab his relationship to the greasers with a grain of salt, we’re changing stuff)

The only reason it's tolerance and not raw hate is because Paul was NOT in on Two being burned 💀Turned around to see Bev with her light and was just like "Well I guess we're cooking chicken tn????"

The socs who jumped Two wear his stolen feathers. The only socs with neat feathers are Cherry and Marcia.

Two's little sister (who I call Molly) once asked their mom (who I call Carolyn) why they couldn't give Two-Bit their molted feathers to 'fix his'

Ms. Mathews has pretty much adopted the entire group emotionally by now. She tries to help Darry with financials but Darry is. Darry.

MISC STUFF

Two-Bit used to get caught in and fly around tornados and Pony always caught sight of that shit. They liked to play a game where he tried to catch him while Two avoided his vines. If they couldn't get him down, Pony would get Soda to ask Steve to use his telekinesis bc Steve would say no if Pony asked.

They also play a game where Steve will fling a member of the gang as far as he can and Two dives after them. It's like fucked up football; Dally offered to be thrown and it was the most fun the three have had-- until they had to stop 'cause Darry caught them and almost had an aneurysm.

The DX windows used to be blank and empty but Soda and Steve started putting stuff up on them so the harpies don’t slam into the glass.

Steve puts Two-Bit in air jail if he tries snatching anything shiny from himself or Soda.

Two, Johnny, and Steve bond over having shitty fathers. Two n Steve do it the most since Johnny doesn’t like to talk about it, but Steve and Two will bitch to hell and back. Johnny's a part of the conversation but just nods and listens. If they have a rough day with their dads, the three of them end up hanging out together.

Johnny, Dally, and Two make people the most uneasy. Johnny's got these blank, dead eyes, Two's smile feels predatory, and Dally's Dally.

All the greaser Harpies look out for one another. It doesn't matter if they're not from the same gang, or if their gangs have tension; you look out for one another. They may necessarily not be each other's flock, but it’s natural for them to stick together.

The harpies love to play fight. They will absolutely beat the shit out of each other and then grab lunch as if nothing happened. All of the harpies have bird habits. Most of them sleep on their stomach.

Dally took something shiny out of Two's hands when they were kids, and Two cried.

Ace makes fun of Two-Bit's choice of men because they're lesbian and bisexual solidarity. "Thoughts?" "And prayers, you'll need them." The only time she ever was like ‘Wow you made a good pick’ was when he jokingly said it about Darry. "Thoughts?” “Your only good pick, He’s got my blessing.” ">:0"

During the real cold months when Darry has to decide between heating or food on the table, Two and Ace practically move in bc a walking blanket and space heater.

{ Tags List: @nova-drawzz @timewing06 }

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gia-d · 4 hours

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Back in October last year, I started reading This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja.

By the time I had made it to chapter 5, I had already started typesetting this story as I read because I knew this would be one of those stories that I needed to have on my shelf.

When I finally caught up to the story at chapter 31, I begged the author to let me bind this when it was finished.

Nearly a year later, and what is probably the most important bind of my life is finally finished. Check out these glamour shots, and if you want to hear more about the actual binding process and about how this fic actually changed my life, see below.

So funny story, before I get into the technical side of this bind, but this fic actually changed my life. Not as in I was greatly emotionally moved by the story, though don't get me wrong I absolutely was, but genuinely this fic introduced me to some of the best people I have ever had to privilege of knowing (Hello Class, you know who you are 🩷), and also, it introduced me to Freyja, the incredibly talented author, who, as I type this, is curled up in bed next to me fast asleep after flying half way around the world to go on a two week long date with me.

Moral of the story folks is comment on the fics you like. You might accidentally meet the love of your life on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, AO3.

Anyways, about the bind!

This bind was a challenge from day 1. I had to do the typeset for this 300k word fic 4 times, and had to split it across 2 volumes. This was the longest fic I have ever attempted to bind, and it was so thick I couldn't get it in the paper trimmer.

To make this book as durable as possible, I attempted a few techniques. I secured it with 3 tapes, I made an Oxford hollow, I rounded the spine, I made a slipcase and I used 2.3mm boards where normally I use 1.8mm.

The slipcase is covered with embossed faux leather, buckram and plain ribbon, and lined with gold satin fabric. I've never made a slipcase before so this was an experience.

The books are covered with an emerald green silk finish bookcloth which really gave the books the luxury they deserved. I foiled custom end papers as well as every chapter title page using heat reactive transfer foil on toner ink (never again I am never doing that again omg it took days). Huge thank you to @la-sera for letting me use her artwork which helped inspire this fic!

The grey flashback chapters I had to use HTV for the border decoration and I'm very happy with how that turned out because it was so easy and straight forward, unfortunately it just wasn't viable for the whole book.

It feels weird to finally have these books done. They have my blood, sweat, tears and my heart poured into them, and I've been working on them for so long that it's odd to actually have them finished. I'm so proud of this bind, and feel like I've grown so much as a fanbinder by making these.

Anyways, if anyone has any questions about the process, please don't hesitate to ask!

(and if you are an Linked Universe fan and haven't read Adjuration yet, this is your sign!)

#linked universe #bookbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #this is an adjuration #my binds #ivyring bookbinding #hi freyja!

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stanpinesdykewife · 1 day

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something really really self-indulgent because september makes me mentally ill. this is mostly just for me but figured i'd post it anyway :) enjoy

birthday month

stan/reader (enby)

pre/during/post-canon/unspecified

fluff, 1423 words

“You got me flowers?” you ask, equal parts excited and confused. It's the first thing you say when you open your front door to Stan, the sweetheart, holding a bouquet of bright, gorgeous flowers in front of his chest. You're smiling, a surprised laugh spilling out of you as red crawls up Stan's shy expression. “Stan, what's this for?”

“What, I can't give my favorite person some flowers?” The flush on his cheeks, the awkward way Stan rubs the back of his neck with one hand, betrays the gruffness of his voice. He shoves the bouquet closer to you and you take it with a careful grip, immediately bringing the flowers to your face to smell them. “They're because I like you. How's that?”

“That's a good reason,” you chuckle, stepping back and nodding towards your apartment. “Come in. I have a vase lying around, I think. Thank you, really, you just made my whole day.”

“Mission accomplished,” Stan says, like a dork, and you laugh as you lead him inside.

The next week, he's at your door again. You bark out a laugh when you open it to a familiar sight: Stan, with pink cheeks and a shy smile, holding a bouquet close to his chest. This time, he has a box of chocolates tucked under his arm.

“Another one?” you ask, accepting the flowers when he gives them to you. You give them a whiff, sighing softly at the fresh scent. “Okay, what's this one for?”

“I still like you. Congratulations,” Stan says proudly, showing off the chocolates. They're your favorite kind. You laugh again, your face warm. You step aside to let him in and he accepts the invite, touching lightly at your bicep as he passes by.

“I'm honored,” you say, and reach up just in time to grab his elbow and turn him around. You press a kiss to his chin when he does, smiling at the way he blinks at you afterward, taken aback, like you haven't been dating for as long as you have. “Thank you, Stan.”

“Don't mention it,” he says, his grin crooked, and he grabs your hand without looking to tug you into your own living room. “Come on, these sweets aren't gonna eat themselves.”

“You're sweet,” you say back, teasing, and Stan laughs loud at that, but even from behind him you can see the tips of his ears turn pink.

The next week, you're still surprised. But now you're a little suspicious.

“Okay,” you say slowly, hesitant in accepting Stan's third bouquet. He has a six-pack of your favorite beer in his other hand, and your tone makes him tense. He shifts awkwardly in place. “Now I'm starting to think you’re pulling a long con. What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Stan says, a little too quick to be believable, and you raise a brow in doubt. But you smell the flowers, and a smile crawls onto your face despite yourself. Stan continues, more casual this time, “Just thought I would spoil you. Is it wrong for a man to spoil the love of his life?”

You know the sentiment is strategic, meant to lower your guard and get you gushing over him instead of prying for an answer. But you chuckle anyway, effectively wooed, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Seriously. This isn't gonna be a long-term thing, is it? Bouquets like this are expensive, I know that much. I really appreciate it, but…” You trail off. Stan rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“Uh… well, it was supposed to be a secret. On the low, y’know,” he admits. You perk up—You love knowing secrets.

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” you say, smiling. But Stan doesn't smile with you. He stares at a spot on your doorframe, his mouth screwing up in thought. When he doesn't answer, you laugh nervously. “Stan?”

“Listen, I, uh… I know it's your birthday month,” he starts, and your smile falls. Stan notices and immediately holds his hands out in front of him, placating. “But, but! I also know you don’t celebrate. I wouldn't spring a surprise on you even if I knew the date, which I don't, but… I dunno. I wanted to do somethin’ nice for you anyway. To show you I care about you, or whatever. You know.”

You do know. Stan's brown eyes are earnest and open, almost pleading, hoping you'll understand. You stare at him for a few moments, mouth parted, your grip tight on the bouquet and crinkling the nice wrapping paper holding it together. Your birthday month isn't exactly top-secret, but you didn't expect Stan to… You can't believe he…

“That's… really nice of you,” you say quietly, something tightening in your chest, something raw and emotional rearing its head behind your sternum. You're a little mortified, and you hate celebrating your birthday for a reason, and the intense, all-encompassing, fluttery feeling in your chest isn't funny at all. But it forces a giggle out of you, more flustered than anything else. Stan perks up at the sound. You think for another moment, but the look on Stan's face makes you come to a quick decision. Hesitantly, you assure him, “I'm not upset. This was a really sweet idea. Thank you.”

“Really?” he asks, and he looks so earnest and kind and warm that you can't help yourself from stepping forward and hugging him, pressing the side of your face into his broad chest. You're definitely crushing the bouquet against his spine, but evidently, neither of you care too much. Stan's arms come around you immediately, the six-pack digging into your lower back. He chuckles, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. “Heh. Glad it turned out okay.”

“Only because I like you so much,” you say, squeezing him tighter for another moment before pulling away. Stan lets up on the hug, but only enough to see your face. You don't know when you started smiling again, but you are. Stan registers it for less than a second before beaming at you, self-assured and affectionate, and that feeling in your chest only gets stronger. You don't know how to put it into words, but you try. With your hand not holding the flowers, you cup his face, keeping his gaze. You try by saying, “Thank you. Really. This… You mean a lot to me.”

If there's one thing Stan can't take, it's a genuine compliment. He laughs awkwardly, breaking eye contact, looking above your head somewhere. You let him, grinning as he shrugs and waves his free hand around as if to dispel the heat coming off his face.

“Yeah, yeah, well—It’s nothin’, really, it's not a big deal,” Stan rambles as your hand drops from his face to rest on his chest. “It took zero effort. Negative effort, in fact. Actually, I paid a guy to come up with the idea for me.” You laugh at the excuse, and suddenly all seriousness has left the air around you two.

“Oh yeah? Maybe I should be thanking him,” you tease, leaning up, closer to his face. Stan finally looks back at you, his eyes flickering to your mouth. “How much?”

“For you? Forty bucks,” Stan says, a smile tugging at his lips. You laugh again, right in his face, and he acquiesces, “Okay, okay! Twenty.”

“I'll give you a kiss and a beer, on me,” you say, reaching behind yourself to grab the six-pack from his hand. Stan's grin is wide and toothy, and with both hands free, he places them on your waist.

“Deal,” he says, and before he goes in for the kiss, you take a mental snapshot: Stan, smiling, a fading flush on his face, framed by beer and flowers. Emotion wells up deep inside you, too-warm and overwhelming. You imagine your heartstrings knotted together, tangled tightly in an overheated mess of affection in your chest. You don't know how else to describe it.

Stan kisses you then, and you melt into him, hooking an arm around his neck as his hands slide around your waist. The bouquet is held tightly in your hand, the wrapper crinkling further behind Stan's head. You're sure some flower petals have fallen off, landing gently on his big broad shoulders, getting caught in the soft gray of his hair. You don't pull away to check. Instead, you sigh, content, into the plush of Stan's lips, under the slow glide of his wandering hands.

The feeling doesn’t go away. Whatever it is, it's good.

#inspired by my lovely girlfriend #who makes september easier #gravity falls #reader insert #stanley pines x reader #my writing

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valerie-is-in-the-cupboard · 3 days

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Am I the only one that thinks Alastor might like women with a fuller figure cause it's so different from what he was around in the 1930s? Like, I can just imagine him, as the skinny man he is, gravitating towards a curvier women.

Oh, honey, let me tell you—I am completely into this idea!!!

Warning!! small drabble ahead

I've always felt that Alastor has a bit of a soft spot for women, though filtered through his own strange moral compass. It might be because he's a certified mama's boy, but I do see this man adoring women.

But I also believe he's the kind of man to put personality over looks, rather than anything else. A woman with charm, elegance, class, and sharp wit? He's already drawn by this. Now that he's a demon, make her a bit dangerous too and he's all over her already.

Now, what if besides all these traits, said woman would be a bit curvier? Instant death for our deer boy. I think he'd totally be into someone who has something like a mother-type body because it gives off that warm, motherlike energy to him.

He'd especially love to see that body in outfits that accentuate every curve but leave a bit to the imagination. And if that outfit is a dress he personally bought for her, oh man he'd beg her to wear it every time the occasion arose.

"But my love, that party is quite important. Perhaps you should wear that lovely dress I bought you again." "But... I wore it last time too? I thought I might change it." "Why change perfection, darling? You were the talk of the evening, after all. Ah, but if you insist... I suppose I’ll have to spoil you with another one. One even more... irresistible."

I think a part of him would die every time she says something bad about her body because he honestly sees nothing wrong. Does she have some fat on her stomach? Lovely. She doesn't like her legs? Why? They look perfect wrapped around him.

And good God, the feeling of that soft, plush skin whenever he touches her? Divine.

And even if it would take him months to give in, he can't help but think how it would be to sleep wrapped in her arms, feeling like a small child again. He'd just think because it would be silly to express such feelings... But when he finally does... oh boy, he could die right there and he'd die happy.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor fanfiction #hazbin alastor #alastor discussion #discussion #chats #thoughts #random thoughts on alastor #love this one #valerieisinthecupboard

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qin-qin16 · 1 day

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Don't click on weird ads!

Summary: When some of your work in progress goes missing, you decide to start investigating whether your computer has a virus. That is until you realize that the few remaining works are of one character: Error Sans. cw: comedy, kinitoPET and creepypasta vibes, Error is an asshole and Reader is stressed, gn!reader, dark jokes about suicide, but nothing serious, we have a bit of jealousy Error, writer Reader… note: I finally wrote down this idea from weeks ago lol This is part one!

You would never forgive yourself.

Five hours of work. Five. And it all vanished with a simple power outage. The entire neighborhood was in the dark for hours — and when the power finally came back, everyone heard the lengthy stream of insults and curses you hurled at yourself when your computer screen went blank; there were no files saved in the cloud and no trace of everything you had written.

Your body glides over the wheeled chair as you slowly spin in circles, “Eu quero me matar…” You murmur, without any genuine or serious inflection in your words, even though deep down in your mind, there’s a certain desire to end the emptiness that lingers from your anger.

“Three pages… three damn pages…” You run your hand over your face, resting it on your mouth as you feel your eyes sting from the static white of the computer screen. “I can’t believe it.” You finish, still in disbelief over the unexpected blackout.

You know that old saying, “I’ll believe it when I see it”? Well, the problem was right in front of you: a completely empty Word document, except for a few notes saved before everything was lost. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe what you were seeing.

“I’m not going to write all that again! I can’t even remember the last thing I wrote!” you rant to no one but the lifeless machine in front of you, running both hands through your hair and tangling it with unnecessary force — leaving only irritation in certain spots on your scalp and strands of hair sticking out in every direction.

Settling into the chair — legs crossed and leaning forward like a shrimp — you start closing all the tabs left open on the computer, not caring at all about what’s saved or not. All you want to do right now is shut off that old piece of junk (that can't even handle an internet outage) and go grab something to eat. Maybe that would help you relax and distract yourself from this mess.

However, the large ERROR 505 flashing on the screen interrupted your ongoing stream of frustration.

The damn title, accompanied by a series of codes that made no sense to you, was plastered on the last tab of your browser, just waiting to be closed. But even after you clicked the little red box three times — eager to shut the window as quickly as possible — the page stayed open.

It felt almost as if it were mocking you. Almost…

“Perfect! Just what I needed!” You don’t hesitate to slap the monitor, taking out all your anger on the old machine. “Now even the damn Google isn’t working!” Your grunt is muffled as you bury your face in your hands, holding back the scream that desperately wants to burst from your throat.

“God, if you exist, why are you punishing me like this?” Your murmurs are heard only by the computer as it continues to mock your suffering with the bright white screen — and that damn ERROR 505 displayed at your face.

“Know what? Screw it, I don’t care.” With your hands thrown up in defeat, you finally surrender, tired and out of patience to battle this cursed error.

This is worse than when the Ao3 is down—no, I can't exaggerate like that, you think to yourself as you crouch in your chair searching for the charger’s plug. If this page won’t close on its own, then it’ll have to be forced; nothing beats unplugging the old computer directly from the outlet.

Which turned out to be a challenging task, not only because of your awkward and uncomfortable position in the wheeled chair, but also due to the mess of wires and cables under your desk. You didn’t even know which one belonged to your computer, let alone where the outlet was.

“Maybe it’s best to just yank everything and hope the outlet comes with it.” You go back to your original position, stretching your spine and letting out a quiet grunt as a pop resonates from your back. “I need to stop spending hours sitting in front of the computer.” Your grumble is nothing more than a hollow promise, unlike your spine, which was definitely promising to develop some kind of scoliosis.

“Okay, here we go— what the hell is this?” you exclaim, and even though your voice lacks any emotion — probably exhausted from all the shouting earlier — your jaw drops, matching the widening of your eyes as you see that the once flashy ERROR 505 screen has now changed to a completely different tab.

What had once been a white background filled with bold text was suddenly replaced by your Tumblr homepage... featuring countless fan arts of Error Sans scattered throughout your feed.

It wasn’t unusual for you to search for fan art and fanfics about him; in fact, the number of tags you followed with his name was far too many to count on both hands!

It doesn’t matter, I’ll just close this tab and—oh my God, what a gorgeous fan art! You quickly get distracted by the artwork on your screen, and without hesitation, your finger starts clicking rapidly on the mouse, liking and reblogging as fast as you can.

However, today was not one of those days. In fact, you had been trying to set aside your obsession with the glitchy skeleton to focus on other Sanses. Those three pages you lost forever were actually part of a fanfic about Cross x Reader that you had been working on for a few days.

So… why did the page load with this theme that you had been ignoring?

You must have been very tired not to notice the muffled sound coming from your computer — different from the noises it made when starting up or running a virus scan. No, no, this sounded oddly like a stilted laugh, as if the audio had been chopped into pieces.

But why would you pay attention to that? Computers couldn’t laugh, especially not at your half-closed eyes and the sentences you’d written incorrectly because you were sleepy…

Right?

Tagging the people who wanted to see a fanfic of this:

@snastheskeleton64, @moonpieandfries12345, @lostsoulsofdragon, @mrcatmario, @something-random1-1-blog, @joonebugg, @crunchontoast, @honeybubbletea33, @what-have-i-unleashed, @leafwateraddict, @sweethoneybear, @sleepy-batz

If you want to be tagged in part two, please let me know :D

#error sans #error sans x reader #error x reader #error x you #utmv #utmv au #qinqin stuff 💖#sans x reader #sans x you #sans x yn #utmv x reader #divider by #@aquazero

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lialox · 2 days

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Do you remember this part!? He asked her if she was tls123, why would she write the story/create this world

And she's looking at him LIKE THIS

Like someone who knows the truth, but hiding it, like someone who in the back of her head, has some idea but can't exactly remember it

Look at the look on her faccccccccccccceeeeeeee

I had to rewrite this since Tumblr glitched out and wiped out my super long response.

My one paragraph of thank you for blessing my eyes with Doksoo.

My delusional response of linking this moment with the epilogue.

Tumblr deleted it all 😭 and I lost the will to retype it for so long LOL

ANYWAYS. I was gonna say I read the Webtoon first and picked up the novel where it left off and I had TOTALLY MISSED the significance of those panels!! The foreshadowing! The eyes!!

I like how they used a completely white backdrop for this. It reminds me of ‘the snowfield’ (refer back to my meta about the whole universe being just a conversation between them both). If that was intentional — GENIUS.

But what I really wanted to get into was the concept of HSY writing ORV in the first place. She was certain every fragment of him would recognize her hand in a story somehow.

And because Kim Dokja could recognize her, in any life, in any universe, that was how he could come back. (Love is real!!! Doksoo is REAL!!!)

So now we get to this part of the story.

KIM DOKJA RECOGNIZED HER.

In the same way every fragment of him would look for every trace of her!!

Their universe is a cycle. There’s enough foreshadowing present in ORV to indicate that KDJ has already gone through this scenario before in some way plus 1863rd HSY also believed that her life operated in a cycle where she would ultimately live through the scenarios, give up her life to write TWSA, forget it all, and go through the scenarios to write it again. (somepartofhimknows)

To have asked if she’s tls123. (I do not remember this part of the novel, it’s been a while!!)

Can you imagine what even insinuating this means for him? HELLO!!? Tls123 has been his long time online friend!! His only one! They’ve been yapping over DM’s since he was 15! They talk everyday due to WOS’ daily updates!! KDJ says “the fandom of TWSA calls it Ways of Survival” but he actually means just him and tls123!!

This is like the equivalent of asking, are you the only friend I’ve had growing up? The one person who gave me every reason to survive in my own ruined world?

Are you the reason I still exist?

Some part of him knows. This is the woman who wrote a story only for him!!

“I can’t explain it, but it feels like I’ve known you forever” <- the kind of pure love that is Doksoo 🥹🥺

#I’m going to CRY and then DIE #Doksoo save me #This time I was smarter and wrote it on my notes app first #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #han sooyoung #doksoo #hankim

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izzyspussy · 21 hours

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anyway so seasons 1-early 3 mickey is a pessimist with a dash of nihilist (miserable), and because of that ian looks like an optimist verging on idealist to him.

the fact of the matter is that ian is not an optimist and he certainly is not an idealist. he's a little naive, sure, but less than what would be appropriate for his age. he's also not a pessimist or a nihilist (either kind). or a realist or a pragmatist or any of those.

no, ian is quite simply. unfathomably stubborn. and that is all.

he'll get into west point. he's absolutely certain of this. why? because he fucking said so.

he'll have a real relationship with mickey. they are in love and they are going to be together. this is true. how does he know? because. he. fucking. said so.

he doesn't have hope. he doesn't want things. that's pussy shit. there are precisely three types of things in this world: things ian isn't interested in, things ian already has, and things ian will have. that is simply that!

(which is obviously its own very specific mindset and is at least as extreme as pure optimism and pure pessimism, and is almost certainly just another fun little factor when the force of his will alone is not enough to change the reality of an ongoing traumatic event that contributes to the somewhat early onset of his bipolar disorder. but that's tangential.)

now. once again, disclaimer, these characters cease to exist past early season 5 for me, so there's every chance this next bit is exclusive to MY mickey and ian. there's just no way to know ❤️

that said. ian matures into a nihilist (carefree) - and i would say he's here-ish already in season 4, but in a maladaptive way at that stage - and then eventually matures further into a nihilistic (carefree)-leaning pragmatist.

mickey on the other hand - after a period of having no particular mindset of this type of thing at all which in effect amounts to a months-to-a-year long panic attack where his every action is fueled by emotional desperation and he has no solid concept of his own wants, needs, values, or future beyond the ever-present but totally incoherent certainty that he can't live without ian but ian can and will leave him with ease for even the slightest infraction or failure that terrorizes him like a weasel terrorizes a hen in his every waking moment - um. what was i saying.

oh right. mickey on the other hand, after All That, matures first into a sort of quiet idealism (kind of a pendulum swing maybe, but not quite not also progress, iygiygi), and then. into a less naive version of the old ian's way lmao.

there is no "that's how things are/go" or "that's how the world works" or "life is/isn't fair" or any fundamental human nature or any purpose or lack thereof to life or possible and impossible or likely and unlikely or anything else along any of those lines. there are only two types of things in the world: things that don't matter and mickey's next achievement. and that's that, baby!

and then eventually, mick finishes out at a relatively stable and sustainable realist-leaning optimism, heavily informed by romanticism of the Certain Things Are Meant To Be kind. like, he wouldn't necessarily express that or think of it in those terms. and he doesn't think it's a common thing, in fact it's rare and special and he's very lucky, and even if something is like that it still doesn't mean you don't have to put the work in for it to go well and end up Right. and he doesn't believe in a higher power or in Fate quite as such or in the will of the universe or a cosmic balance or anything like that really.

it's just, you know. sometimes. every now and then. there's just this one little thing that will continuously keep trying to happen without any heed to sense or logic or the incredible odds against it. just something in particular that will forever and always find a way to happen.

like say. for example. there's this gay kid, right? and he gets in this fight and he wins and he's about to bring down a tire iron and ruin this other idiot's pretty face and - for no discernible reason whatsoever - he just... doesn't. and maybe he'll think about it half a dozen years later and wonder why. that one tiny little thing that changed his whole fucking life, why did he do that? what was the reason? and there just. isn't one.

and that's not even all. see, these two dumbasses have no idea the other one is gay too, but some-fucking-how they don't have to say a word or even make any opening moves to just Know they want each other. it's like they read each other's fucking minds, even though he knows, he remembers, he didn't sense anything from ian. but for Some Fucking Reason he just never for a second considered ian wouldn't want him, and ian was in perfect time with him. and maybe he'll think back and try to find an explanation for this part too. was there some body language he read? was there some look in ian's eyes? but the answer is no every time.

and then after that, these two gay kids just can't be kept apart. they just can't. and it's not just that they inexplicably can't resist each other either. every time they're separated they find each other again, no matter what. even when they're the ones to separate themselves, situation after coincidence after happenstance after necessity keeps putting them in each other's orbits. secrecy and jealous exes and gun violence and imprisonment and infidelity and a fucking pathological fear of intimacy and conversion therapy and genuine threat to their lives and marriage to someone else and permanent life-altering illness can't break them up. at least not for long.

and then. somehow. SOME fucking how! after all that, and with the absolutely shit chances that they ever even hooked up in the first place, they actually fucking make it? they don't just get to be together, they get to be happy??

so no, he doesn't believe in god or destiny or soulmates or whatever the fuck. but at the same time, i mean. what other explanation is there?

#jack facts #damn this post really swerved huh #me thinking i'm going to just jot a lil thought down: 😊#me fuck knows how long later having done This instead: 🧍🏼‍♂️#shameless #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #gallavich #hc

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cleo-writes · 2 days

Text

ﾉﾉ Training with Percy Jackson xx

A/n: I swear I accidently started writing like it was a fic ... oh well

Warnings: none!

Enjoy!

He would looove training with you

Just getting to help his friend

(His friend that he so dearly loves)

Percy is head over heels in love with you

But that's not the topic right now.

He's just gonna help you train bc the dummy's are literally just loose hay in a potatoe sack

And you need a moving target to get any real practice in

He'd love it, though

Him teaching you what stance you should be in, gently guiding you with hands on your waist

It make him so flustered on the inside

Of course, he'd be asking if you were okay with this

Constantly.

He puts a hand on your waist

...

Just to get you in the best fighting position for upclose combat, of course

He would say something along the lines of:

"Is this ok? You're sure?"

( Consent is key guys )

( our man gets it )

He's also kinda scared to hurt you :(

He goes pretty easy on you at first

Stiff movements, slow reaction times, etc.

He's just so so afraid

He can't hurt you!! He'd be blaming himself for an eternity!!

But once you guys warm up to it, he's not as restrained

There's a little more flow in his movements, feeling like this is a real fight

He's still careful with you

But he's having a little more fun once he loosens up, and he's smiling

At some point during your training, you end up on top of him,

straddling his lap with the flat of your dagger/sword pressed against his throat

You could practically feel the heat from his cheeks, the cold from your blade heating as soon as it laid against his neck

Both of you panting, breaths dancing together while you held his gaze

He didn't mind that you had beat him,

He would've let you kick his ass a million times just to end up like this

He was so flustered.

It was like he couldn't move, or see

Like all of his sense had gotten distracted,

Focusing on you

This boy is so in love with you

Percy wouldn't have it any other way

Gods, you looked so hot above him

Although you were sweating, out of breath, tired

He didn't care.

It was all so lovely until you got up and demanded another round.

He would be ready this time

(Percy purposely ends up in the position again)

He definitely teases you.

Smug smirks,

the little 'come and get me' gesture with his hand,

Obnoxious comments on how your stance is messed up,

(It's not)

The boy just loves getting in your head.

He says it's just a part of the training

Obviously, monsters are gonna tease and pick at you by saying how you look so pretty today

That's definitely how they're gonna distract you so they can attack

Definitely.

...

Anyways by the end of it, you send a full wave of anxiety through him by saying with a smirk:

"Next time, I'm getting someone else to train with me."

His answer was ..

...

Well, unusual for him

"... did I do something wrong..?" He asks in a quiet voice

Ngl you kinda expected him to say something snarky

Either scoffing and rolling his eyes with a comment

Or overdramatic begging and pleading for your next training session to be with him again.

But he was all out of it after you straddled him like that.

It took a while of convincing and soft talking on your end for him to really believe he didn't do something wrong.

Guess what yall I have a mini taglist now. :)

@thementallyillapollochild @daonedaonlyskh

If you want to be added or removed pls let me know<33

#cleo.post #percy jackson #annabeth chase #jason grace #leo valdez #piper mclean #hazel levesque #frank zhang #nico di angelo #will solace #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo show #my fic #percy x reader #percy x y/n

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mrs-kodzuken · 2 days

Text

hard to desire ⨟ kenma k.

chapter two

babydoll ari abdul

❝Oh, Father, forgive me for all my sins

When I meet your eyes, the Devil, he wins

Blinded by your lies, but I play pretend❞

previous chapter next chapter

"We're going to miss you so much sweetheart," Your mom hugs you tightly, tearing up a bit.

"Call us if you need anything at all, sweet pea." Your dad says, giving you a sad smile over your mom's shoulder.

"I will, I promise. I love you guys so much." You tried keeping the tears at bay because you knew you wouldn't be able to stop. They had packed everything you'd need into your small car and then, of course, sent you with extra money for the things they couldn't fit.

You were going to live with Kuroo in an apartment so surely there should be basic things like a refrigerator or microwave?

"Be safe, sweetie." Your mom said as you were leaving out of the door. You could only nod and wave bye, you'd never left home on your own like this before, so it put you through quite a few emotions.

You hadn't mentioned the part about Kuroo's roommate, Kenma, yet to your parents. They trusted you under Kuroo's care as if you were still a child.

Starting the drive to the town you would be spending the next few years in made you a little nervous. You decided to hook up your playlist and play some of your favorite songs to help with the nerves.

You had also wondered if you would ever see that strange man again, maybe that would be your first ever attempt at romance. Never being in a romantic relationship before meant that you relied on fictional characters from books to fulfill that part of your brain.

You just hoped that Kuroo wouldn't snoop to your bookcase that would be put up in your room to hold all of your books like trophies.

In the time that you had been driving and spacing out to the music, you had magically appeared in the town you kind of remembered.

Quickly, you called Kuroo because he didn't even give you the address to the apartment you would be staying at yet.

"Hey, I'm in town now. Could you send me the address?" You asked into the phone call connected to your car's radio.

"Uh, yeah sure," Maybe a minute went by. "There you go. I'll go let Kenma know you're on the way here, little one. See you in a bit."

Whilst you were trying to figure out the weird directions to get to the damn apartment, Kuroo was trying to get Kenma to come out of his room.

"Kenma, she's on her way now. Make sure you're nice to her, just what I had spoken with you about a couple days ago." Kuroo reminded Kenma, leaning on his door frame.

Kenma had been still trying to sleep even though it was almost 11:40am. That's always a tell-tale sign that he was up late on one of his many consoles or editing his Youtube channel.

"Kenma." Kuroo called once again.

Something stirred within the pile of blankets on Kenma's king-sized bed. Then a grunt was heard and Kuroo decided that it was enough for him, he'd have to actually say it again when Kenma would be up later. Kuroo shut his door and sighed, hoping this would go great for everyone involved.

Soon after, you sent him a text message saying you believe you had gotten to the apartment.

Kuroo came jogging down the apartment stairs to meet you exiting your car.

"Hey, little one. Was the drive okay? You need some help getting all that up the stairs?" He asked, giving you a hug. He'd be mindful of your feelings later when you've settled in so you can spill about your sentiments of being here, like you used to.

"Hey, yeah the drive was fine. Nothing but a bit of music and singing can't help," You chuckled and broke the hug.

"And yeah, it would be great if you could help me." You eyed your car, the backseat seemed to have been spilling through the windows based on everything your parents had insisted on packing.

"They sure do love you; you know that?" He mentioned opening your trunk so he could start with whatever is back there first.

You swallowed your feelings, "Yeah, I know. Let's get this stuff hauled in there." You said, changing the subject so you didn't have to think about that right now.

"I've taken the liberty to give you a queen-sized bed. I assume that you would bring your own sheets because I know you like particular 'aesthetics'." He made finger quotes around the word but that didn't take away how thoughtful it was of him.

"You didn't have to; I could've bought my own and put it together. I'm a manly man, you know?" You joked, enjoying the nice moment between you two.

"Yeah, yeah whatever you say." He grunted, hauling a box over his shoulder up to the apartment. After a couple trips, he told you he'd get the rest and lock your car for you so you could get things organized in your new room without being overwhelmed.

Heeding his instructions, you got to work.

By the time you were done, your room kind of resembled the one at home but this one spoke to you in a way that one never did. It signaled a new era for you – a new you.

Your bookshelf stood tall and proud with plenty of colorful books on it. Your bed had a pink and white theme, a fluffy rug in the middle of your hard wooden floor, and a door mirror were your favorite touches so far.

The apartment itself wasn't so bad. You didn't really get to take a look at it due to unpacking but you definitely wanted to now. Exiting your room, you find the bathroom and you guess the bedrooms where Kuroo and Kenma sleep.

The kitchen wasn't spacious, but it wasn't crowded either. It doesn't take a genius to realize that Kuroo probably meticulously placed the barstools and counter items like the tea, coffee, and toaster machines in specific places.

He was such a geek sometimes.

You looked through the cabinets and tried to stick everything to memory of its place. You, however, brought some of your own favorite dishware that had cute pink ribbons imprinted on the glass. You definitely were going to make your presence known with that.

That happened a lot more throughout the apartment too. Your little decor items like a specific throw blanket and pillow on the couch just for you. Small decorations on shelves here and there. Your toothpaste and toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.

You were popping up everywhere in their lives. In his life. And for some reason, it got under his skin. Even covering his head with a pillow, Kenma could still hear you bustling about in the apartment, talking to yourself about where something should go.

You'd occasionally ask Kuroo, and he'd just say, "Whenever you want to put it is fine with me, little one." Not taking into account Kenma's thoughts and that kind of pissed him off.

Not that it was his fault anyways. It's not like he got out of bed to say hi and greet you. Or it's not like he's pretending to be asleep so he doesn't have to conversate with you.

Kenma doesn't know why exactly you're getting under his skin so much, but it bothers him. It bothers him so deeply.

"Want to come with me to help you set everything up for school? I can show you the main buildings and once you get your class schedule, I'll tour the buildings with you, so you won't be late on your first day?" Kuroo's offer lit your eyes up.

Afterall, you were here because you wanted your degree, so obviously you're excited about classes and school.

"Yes, yes, yes. That'd be amazing. Just let me grab a jacket and I will. I saw something about it possibly raining later." You called out to him, fast walking to your room to get a zip-up you had on earlier.

You heard Kuroo walk back into the hall, and you thought he was going to get on to you for taking forever as you looked at your outfit into the mirror of your door. But that wasn't the case.

A knock was sounded, but it wasn't on your door. It was his.

"Kenma, want to come with us? We're going to go view the fall semester classes." Kuroo said through the door to Kenma's room.

You even stopped breathing to hear him.

You'd see the picture frames on the walls and here and there on the shelves from their high school days but there wasn't a current one of Kenma out. And even in those pictures, he was always looking away or face not closely in the picture. That in itself had made you curious too.

“Too tired.” Was all that was spoken but it still had an effect on you. Even though it was muffled through walls too. It was slightly becoming a bit more than curiosity at this point. But then again, you kind of had gotten a bit sad that he wouldn’t be tagging along.

You’d be living with a man you don’t even know, and he was too tired to go look at fall semester classes? Interesting.

“Alright, well little one, let’s get this show on the road then.” Kuroo called for you and you opened your door.

“Okay!” You shoved that weird Kenma thought to the back of your brain and went ahead with Kuroo to enjoy how you guys would be spending the rest of your day.

. . .

Just like that, two entire weeks of school passed by. And yet, not even once within those fourteen days of school did Kenma take any invite from you.

You remembered how he turned you down multiple times. One day you had softly knocked on Kenma’s door, hoping for him to answer.

“Hey, want to come study with Kuroo and I? I thin-"

"Leave me alone." Kenma's annoyed, muffled voice cut you off and gave you the answer you needed. You purse your lips, hoping you haven't done anything to upset your roommate. Although that isn't even one of the possibilities for you haven't even been in the same room for longer than five minutes max.

Another encounter was when you had gotten home with Kuroo, and you guys decided to get takeout which was aka Mexican – your favorite. You had found Kenma sitting on the couch in the living room scrolling on his phone.

It was as if he could sense you looking at him, he quickly got up and headed straight for his room.

"Hey, wait. I wanted to know if you wanted to add to our order. We're getting Mexican food for dinner tonight." You spoke hopeful, keeping your voice light the entire time. You desperately wanted to connect with your roommate, even if it seemed that he hated you – your mere presence.

However, he had other thoughts as he passed you with a gruff scoff, "Mexican makes me sick."

Just a few words hurt your feelings more than you'd like to even admit. You weren't used to this type of rejection when you had been nothing but cordial.

One fateful day after class, you decided you really needed a study session with Kuroo to boost your spirits. You didn't want to feel so down with it only being the second –almost third– week of college.

"Of course, anything for you. I'm going to invite Kenma; he needs it too." Kuroo said, without thinking. You hadn't confided in Kuroo about how you think Kenma absolutely hates your guts. Every time you try, you just keep thinking maybe there is something you're missing that is making him behave this way towards you.

"Oh... yeah, that's a good idea." You tried to support it, but you were riddled with anxiousness.

Your nerves got even worse when Kuroo had stated that Kenma, begrudgingly, would meet up with you guys. Only to which you then mustered half a smile, knowing that the next few hours would be more stressful than the coursework itself.

You stood at the small cafe that was built into the university's library, you stared at the menu hoping that your memory would be able to recall what Kuroo had always ordered.

On the off chance that you and Tetsu come here to study or get a breather, you always forget what he orders. On the other hand, Kuroo has mentioned what Kenma gets every single time and now that is the only thing that has burned itself into your memory.

A fucking oat milk latte loaded with any sort of sweet syrup.

You'd been secretly watching Kenma when he drinks them, seeing which kind of syrup he favors more. You're not exceptionally sure why you've been doing this either. However, the vanilla and caramel he seemed to like the best, so you asked to add both of those syrups into his latte.

Then, you made sure to send Kuroo a quick text, asking what his order was again – hopefully it just gets blamed on your apparent forgetfulness.

'Iced coffee with a splash of sweet cream' He had texted back, which honestly seemed very basic.

With a drink carrier, you carefully made your way to the study table that soon had everyone's laptops, notebooks, and pens out.

"Thank you, little one." Kuroo said, hastily taking his bland iced coffee from the brown, recyclable drink carrier.

Kenma's sharp golden eyes peered upward at you, causing you to gulp. He took his coffee without so much as uttering a word as Kuroo got to work. You had pretended to type notes for your art class and secretly peered up to see the slightly upward turn of Kenma's lips.

You felt satisfactory with your decision.

After a few hours of studying, you couldn't help that your eyes kept drifting to Kenma. Kuroo had gone to the bathroom and your coursework was definitely not on your mind. You breathed in as you took in his entire form across the study table from you.

Kenma's medium length hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, his brown roots showing more so since they've grown out quite a bit from the starch contrast of the blond hair dye. A few strands of hair had framed his sharp angled face, he seemed extremely concentrated on whatever he was reading at the moment.

Your eyes moved downwards, taking in his frame and clothes. They were the most basic, as expected from someone who didn't really care what outfit he wore. A tee with graphics on it and black sweatpants.

Noticing more, his laptop had one of those light up keyboards that you kind of wanted to run your hands across for fun. If you focused on just him, you could slightly smell the scent of cinnamon apples coming off of it. It felt intoxicating to say the least, making you feel the slightest bit of light-headedness.

You snapped out of your thoughts when he suddenly shut his laptop hard.

"Done studying?" You asked curiously, trying to pretend that there isn't a weird flutter in your stomach nor that you basically were ogling him either.

"Why does it matter? It's not like you're doing any studying with the way you've staring holes into me." He sneered at you, and you couldn't help the faint dust of blush that coated your cheeks.

"I was spacing out, sorry." You muttered, only focusing your attention on the brightly lit laptop screen, not the way you feel embarrassed for the emotions that coursed through your veins when you thought of your roommate – who hated you, you had to remind yourself.

When in the hell was Kuroo coming back from the bathroom to save you from this?

synopsis: it's the summer before you go to university, and you decide to become roommates with your pen pal that you've known since you were in primary. big problem arises, he's got a roommate, and it just so happens that his roommate either has a sexual want for you or hates your guts – or probably both?

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