#and i think im allowed to be a little sad abt it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seiwas · 8 months ago

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omg im scared my tags are gonna get cut out

were he not born to be a hero he must surely be born for this. <- I LOOOOVE THISS my GODD are u KIDDDDINGME i looooove that so much monty :(( how it ties back in to the start!!

and the way!! he uses what he learned on izuku. and izuku really DID burst into a million tears 🥺 poor guy probs needs it THE MOST WAAAH i loooove this lil interaction i am MUSH

and when he realises its different from touching you??? OHHHH. BOYYYYYY.

i love this monty thank u for writing this

STEADY BEGINNINGS ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, developing relationship (eventual friends to lovers), touch starved shouto, physical affection (hand holding + long hugs), good god the yearning, obliviousness, jealousy, fluff + angst, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency

wc: 3.8K

series masterlist: 2/5

Shouto was born to be a hero.

It is a sentiment shared by reporters and fans alike. Todoroki Shouto, the pride of Endeavor, the saving grace of his family name. True, his development had been entirely up to chance—no matter the intent or cruel desperation behind his father’s actions, he had to rely on the probability that the next offspring would win the genetic lottery—but low and behold, he did, and to many people that alone was a sign of destiny at work.

Ultimately, he chose to continue the path of being a hero himself, but no higher being put him there. His father did. At the time of his birth Shouto had not been a son, not even a baby. He was a project. A small, shapeless, squirmy thing. Malleable, like any young mind. It’s a miracle he retained any will and individuality.

Sometimes when alone with his thoughts, Shouto would hypothesise on the whys and the hows. The conclusion he always comes to is this: any sort of reality in which Shouto succumbs to his father’s ideals and manipulation would have to be a world in which his mother does not exist.

While his existence was planned, and wanted, he was to be a hero and as such, wasn’t cut from love—that came after. He loved his mother. So much so that when she hurt, he hurt. When she cried, he cried. She taught him what it meant to be gentle, to have hope, to aspire to be his own person. Years spent amongst the country's finest heroes and Shouto still regarded his mother as the bravest woman he knew, strong because she refused to be hardened by her circumstances; soft so that she can’t be broken again.

You are like his mother in that regard. Those same echoes of reassurance that softness isn’t weakness, and it isn’t earned. You’ve been touching him more as of late, as if determined to prove it. Static between brushed fingertips, words expressed by simply pressing your knees together, the weight of your hand on his bicep to garner his attention. The build up is subtle and cumulative and yet each instance strikes him with the magnitude of a thermodynamic explosion.

Nobody bats an eyelid to this shift in physicality, which makes it all the more difficult to determine whether he is reading into things or not. It could be that he’s noticing those small instances only because it’s you, and you are all he can think about lately.

You’ve given him permission to reciprocate. He merely has to ask for more if he wants it. What Shouto hadn’t accounted for is the unbearability of being vulnerable enough to ask. An innocent “can you hug me?” becomes so much more daunting to voice with all that longing crowded up behind it. He can’t help worrying you’ll see right through to the bottom of his desires.

A hand comes into view. Bakugo’s ash-smudged finger and thumb pinch and snap together in front of his face. “Come back to Earth, dumbass. Your thousand yard stare is scarin’ my new assistant”.

Shouto blinks out of his stupor and the blurred vignette surrounding his vision recedes. He glances at the skittish man sitting outside Bakugo’s office currently sending worried glances over his shoulder. “I think he’s more scared that you’re back,” Shouto intones dryly. “Isn’t he the fourth one this year?”

“Not my fault they’re all wimps,” Bakugo huffs. A slap reverberates around the office as he throws down a manila folder onto his desk and drops heavily into his chair. He regards Shouto with suspicion overtop his computer monitor. “Whatever you were just thinkin’ about—stop”.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking about”.

“I know you always manage to make Olympic level leaps in logic,” Bakugo rolls his eyes and tears open the folder. He slides out what Shouto assumes is a debrief and flips it between his fingers. Shouto keeps quiet. He reclines into the couch cushions and returns to reading the incident report on his lap, counting down from ten in the privacy of his mind. Anytime now.

Three, two, one.

“So what is it?” Bakugo asks, trying too hard to sound flippant but landing squarely on irritation. “Spit it out before you give yourself an aneurysm”.

Shouto opens his mouth and closes it again. A wave of hot embarrassment washes over him. He knows Bakugo will do him the kindness of being blunt and honest but it doesn’t make it any less humiliating to admit.

In their younger years Shouto saw something of a kindred spirit in Bakugo. He too did not like touch and aggressively voiced his distaste for it whenever he got the chance—which was often, because divine intervention sought fit to give him the most tactile, handsy friend group possible.

As they got older though, Shouto began to realise that the protests and threats were hollow. Despite being vehemently against affection, Bakugo would allow it anyway, and sometimes even seek it out. The aggression was bravado. Bakugo liked having his friends draped around his shoulders. He liked when Mina kissed his cheek, or Kaminari played with his hair, or Kirishima gathered him into a too-tight hug, or Sero tangled their ankles together on the couch.

Only, for him to comfortably accept it, Bakugo needed to act as though he were doing them a favour by allowing them into his space. And Bakugo’s friends played along without complaint.

From what he’s observed you are also an affectionate person. You are liberal with your warmth and adapt seamlessly to the boundaries of those around you. But you were also visibly uncomfortable whenever people took that affinity for intimacy as an open invitation, and recoiled if they encroached on your own.

Shouto has imagined reaching out only for your body to flinch away from him more times than he can count. It’s a battle staged in his head, ingrown fears. The possibility alone was enough to keep him from reciprocating, set in a state of fawn-like inertia.

“There’s somebody I want to get closer to. A friend,” he begins. Bakugo makes an inquisitive noise, props his cheek against his fist and narrows his eyes as he listens. Shouto retells the story in part, deciding to omit your name, and by the tail-end of it Bakugo’s forehead is deeply creased in dissatisfaction.

“You make all your own problems, Halfie. Y’know that?” he mutters, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and sinking back into his chair. “Fine, you don’t want to make this person uncomfortable, or whatever. If you need a hug so damn badly, why not ask Deku? Not like he’d say no”.

Knowing Bakugo would make his dilemma sound ridiculous is one thing, actually hearing it is another. “How do you know it isn’t about Midoriya,” Shouto returns petulantly.

“It ain’t Izuku or anyone else from your nerd squad,” Bakugo says, dropping his hand to drum on the desk. “I would’ve heard about it”.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t touch people. And that’s fuckin’ fine, yeah? But if you had, I know for a fact any one of them would’ve burst into tears and told everyone in a five mile radius”.

“Oh,” it leaves him a little off-kilter to hear. Shouto leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, setting the report on the dark wood coffee table. The corner of the page is curled, and the spine is creased, and the ink annotation has smudged under his thumb. He details these things as he deliberates, the excuses cloying in his throat and thick like he might cry too.

Bakugo was right—if he craved close contact so badly, why couldn’t he go to Midoriya? He knows he would likely be met with enthusiasm.

“You don't have to tell me who. I don’t care. But you’re overthinking it,” Bakugo grunts at his lack of response, in a way that very much suggests that he cares. “Go ask. If they say ‘no’ it’s tough shit, but the world isn’t gonna end. From what you’ve told me they wouldn’t say ‘no’ anyway. Dumbass”.

Shouto nods and gives up the pretense of reading the paperwork. He feels coltish as he stands and brushes down his front, straightening the creases.

“You’re right”.

“I know”.

“Thank you, Bakugo,” he says. A small smile unfurls across his anxiety-bitten mouth. “You’re a good friend”.

“Shut up,” Bakugo grumbles. It’s a testament to his concern that he hadn’t cursed Shouto there and then. “Now get out of my office. What are you doing here in the first place? You got your own!”

“Yours gets all the sunlight. And it’s always quiet because nobody comes in here,” Shouto ignores the baleful slit of an eye Bakugo turns on him. “I’m going to take my lunch now”.

“Do what you want,” Bakugo dismisses haughtily, and Shouto smiles while thinking, not for the first time, that he’s very lucky to have friends like these.

The fidgety assistant bows as he exits and turns into the sun-drenched hallway. Warmth drapes around Shouto’s shoulders, lingering at his nape while he descends the dark stairwell where the light doesn’t reach. His boots thud against the linoleum, and he counts each footfall to keep his face neutral as his legs carry him toward your department.

Somewhere between one and one hundred and thirteen, a fraction of Shouto’s courage starts to dwindle. He grits his teeth. A hundred steps can’t be enough to dissuade him after decades of denying himself any kind of indulgence.

The further he goes into the support wing the more elaborate the layout becomes. You’re in research and development, assigned a workshop close to the quirk analysts. Heads turn as Shouto rolls through. Heroes didn’t often make personal visits to this area. If he thinks hard enough he could count a grand number of two past visits and neither of them were for you.

His stride falters when he catches sight of your nameplate. It is fixed to the wall outside your door, polished and gleaming proudly. Shouto traces the characters of your name engraved into steel before raising his hand to knock.

Your voice rings out from inside, “Come in!”

A pitched beeping sound comes from overhead. The workshop doors begin to open in a theatrical fashion, receding like curtains to reveal your space. The floor is mapped out with tape. Clear boundaries drawn between the work benches, the fume cupboards, the vault and your personal office, in an attempt at organised chaos. He might have been more interested in poking around for the first time if he had not felt on the edge of intrusion.

You’re tucked behind your curved desk surrounded by numerous monitors that dwarf your frame. Shouto furtively takes in your cute, rumpled appearance. The upper half of your coveralls have been undone to reveal an undervest, sleeves tied tight around and accentuating your waist.

“Take a seat, I’ll be with you in…” the dull tapping of practiced keystrokes comes to a stop as you notice him in the doorway. The professional veneer disappears. “Shouto?” you say, mostly to yourself. Your gaze slides beyond his shoulder, looking for whoever might be accompanying him. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a worried twist in your mouth that he wants to smudge away. A look in your eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugged at his being. Shouto rolls his shoulders, shaking off the tension, and moving deeper into your office. The doors close automatically behind him. “I’m okay,” he assures, taking the seat across from you.

Your expression gentles, and he likes how your gaze follows him. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me,” he continues. “But if you’re working I can head back”.

“Lunch?” you repeated. Your eyes darted to the corner of the monitor closest to you and promptly widened. “Oh, shit. When did that happen?”

An upswing of fondness catches him like a blow to the chest. His mouth quirks into a smirk. “How long have you been here?”

“Too long. I got lumped with a new project a few days ago and it’s almost done,” the monitors shut off one by one as you sheepishly press each button. Then you gave him a soft, apologetic look, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Must’ve missed me if you came all the way down here”.

Dread shriked through him. The low whirring from the equipment scattered around your workspace is suddenly inordinately loud. Was he that obvious?

You, however, fail to notice Shouto’s anxiety and grab him around the wrist as you pivot the desk. “C’mon. Let’s go before the good stuff is gone,” you tell him.

Shouto had absolutely no clue what the ‘good stuff’ entailed—maybe he should’ve bothered to ask. Atleast it would take his mind off your hand. It’s wrapped around his sleeve, right where the fabric ends, loose enough for him to unshackle from if he wants. When he doesn’t protest the contact you stroke your thumb in an arc over the heel of his hand and squeeze.

Shouto falls into step, too caught up to realise you’ve taken him to the cafeteria. He expects you’ll drop his wrist in the presence of your colleagues, yet you adjust your grip and glance back at him with an encouraging tilt of your head.

“I’m starving. I think I’ll get a rice bowl. Smells pretty good today, don’t you think?”

Shouto hummed his agreement. He felt out of his depth, and he didn’t trust his voice. The spark of giddiness was doing embarrassing things to his throat. The line is mercifully short and before long he has a warm bowl of food held against his front.

“Did you want to sit in here? I can take us to one of the senior staff lounges instead if you want,” you cast a nervous look across the sparse crowd. “I mean, support engineers aren’t really gossiping types but…”

A petty part of him hoped the whispers would escalate. To have your name linked with his, to be known as a person that you cared about—he found that deeply satisfying, for reasons he couldn’t yet put his finger on.

Then again, being alone with you far eclipsed the appeal of flaunting your friendship. “The senior staff lounge sounds best,” he answers after a minute of feigned consideration. You nod, regretfully having dropped his hand, and motion for him to follow once more.

The lounge is a modest room with a kitchenette, a breakfast nook and a few bean bag chairs. It smells faintly like peeled oranges. There are post it notes and blueprints haphazardly stuck to the pinboard, covering an out of date calendar filled out in illegible scrawl. This is no shop awning. There is no rainfall to lend to the ambiance. But you are together in an enclosed space, and that is enough to make his heart beat in anticipation.

You scoot into the breakfast nook. He sits on the same side of the table and tries to subtly spread his knees enough to nudge your thigh. You side-glance in surprise but choose not to mention it. Instead you smile through your first mouthful and ask, “How've things been since I last saw you?”

Achy, like he’s used an atrophied muscle. Lonely, and frustrating beyond words. But he doesn’t say any of that. He digs crescents into his thigh through his pant leg and says, “Boring”.

“Figured that might be the case. I saw the livestream of you fighting Haywire,” you bump your shoulder against his. “The Commission probably dumped a whole load of paperwork on you, huh?”

Shouto wrinkles his nose. He hoped you hadn’t caught that fight. The pursuit of Haywire—an eco terrorist with an electrical quirk—managed to cause an unprecedented amount of damage to the city infrastructure.

“You handled it as best you could. The power grid can be fixed. What’s important is people are alive because of you,” a warm weight covers the fingers restlessly whittling at his pant leg. You pet his hand, “I’m glad you weren’t hurt”.

Guided solely by his impulses, the instant you start to draw back he envelops the top of your hand and sandwiches it between his own. He goes hot and cold all over in quick succession. Boundaries, he reminds himself. But you’re not pulling away. You’re studying him with a knowing gleam in your eye.

Shouto clears his throat. Heat pricks across his skin, concentrated in his cheekbones. “Sorry,” he says. You can ask, a memory echoes. “Is this okay?”

“You don’t have to apologise. I told you it’s fine,” you reply firmly. “I’m happy to remind you if you need to hear it”.

“No, I…” his brow furrows. “I’ve been thinking”.

“That’s not good”.

Shouto snorts and shakes his head, his amusement petering out into a shallow breath. “I want to ask. I’ve wanted to ask like you said I could,” he explains vaguely. “I’m not very good at it, I think”.

You make a soft, understanding sound that immediately sets him at ease. “I guess, after denying yourself something for so long it can be scary to let yourself have it again,” you murmur, a faraway look in your eyes. After a pensive moment the sheen fades and your laughter lines deepen, “I’ll do what I did before, then. If you look like you need a hug I’ll ask you instead”.

“In what way do I ‘look like’ I need a hug?”

“You get this—I don’t know how to explain it,” you gesture vaguely at him. “This blankness about you, but not your normal resting face, I mean you don’t seem all there. I don’t like it. I like it best when you’re happy”.

“Ah,” comes his eloquent response. Shouto drops his gaze to where your hands knot together. Every quark in his body is urging him to get closer, and remain close. “Bakugo thinks I should try to hug Midoriya, too,” he adds, oddly flustered.

“Huh. You talked to Bakugo about—? That’s a surprise. A nice surprise, I mean! Well, Midoriya does give great hugs. It would be good for you to…”

Shouto’s thoughts grow louder and he frowns down at his rice. You’re saying something about physical touch and wellness and friends. Dopamine and serotonin. It barely registers. Two truths are pinging around his skull.

You have hugged Midoriya. Of course you have. You’re friends.

You think he’s great at it.

Why is that so unsettling? Teenagers think like this. Single minded and overly emotional.

He feels the shifting of your knuckles under his palm. “Hey. You’ll need one of these back if you’re going to eat,” you say.

“Right,” he lifts his left hand and picks up his chopsticks to take a pinch of rice from his bowl. He chews until the clamouring in his mind has settled, and you patiently accept his stoic silence without explanation. Shouto hasn’t been this awkward since highschool, and even then he was too wrapped up in his familial problems to be aware of it.

“What’s the project you’ve been working on?” he eventually asks.

You take the change of topic in your stride, leaning closer and lowering your voice to an excited whisper, “I’m not supposed to tell you but—it’s for Deku’s new costume”.

“Midoriya is getting a new costume?” Shouto replies. You playfully shush him and he pouts a little.

“Don’t sulk. He doesn’t know yet either,” you poke a chopstick at the corner of his jutted mouth. “It’s my job to prepare a design portfolio and talk through everything next week. You’ll get a new one too, when you break the top five”.

“If,” he amends.

“You don’t think you’ll move up?”

“Reaching the top was never really a priority for me,” Shouto’s attention splinters, half of his focus on the conversation and the other on the sensation of your skin. He considers overturning his hand to entwine your fingers. “I just want to be the best hero I can be”.

You hum, and as if plucking the desire right from his mind, absentmindedly slip into the gaps between his fingers. Shouto steadies his breathing and takes another mouthful.

The rest of the hour passes, syrupy and slow like molasses. By the final minute Shouto’s palm is sticky and reluctant to part from yours. You usher him out from the breakfast nook first, stacking the empty bowls before directing him back toward the emptied cafeteria.

You slide the bowls along the counter for the kitchen staff to take. Then you wipe your hands down your front as you pivot to face him, thrusting out both arms as he stands frozen.

“Can I hug you?”

Shouto touches his face and you laugh.

“This is because I want one,” you clarify with a warm grin, beckoning him closer.

Shouto inhales steps into the embrace, his arms instinctively wrapping around your back. There are less layers this time—the heat of your body is overwhelming, alongside the gentle rise of goosebumps across your bare shoulders. Your breath fell gently on his collarbone, his head lowering to curl into you. He thinks, were he not born to be a hero, he must surely be born for this.

“Thank you,” you mumble, squeezing his waste a final time as you retreat. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Shouto nods. Your presence moves away like the sun being blocked out and he watches you go, departing words caught in his teeth, an incessant buzz in his fingertips. The walk back to his office is a gauzy yellow haze. Every physiological response in his body told him that he was in a free fall, despite his feet being firmly on the ground.

“Shouto!”

Shouto halts mid-step at the familiar voice. He turns to look at Izuku, at the tentative beginnings of his smile. “Izuku,” he says.

“We missed you at lunch—are you feeling alright?” Izuku asks, slightly bemused. “You look kinda… floaty,” his eyes are dark, softened in the afternoon light as they sweep over Shouto’s figure and his face.

"Izuku," Shouto said before he could convince himself otherwise, “Do you want a hug?”

The innocent question appeared to crash into Izuku with the levity of a bullet train in motion. Tears sprang to his eyes, brighter now. Shouto tenses as he is swept into a solid hug. Izuku smells like fresh air, sweat and sweet-salty broth. He holds Shouto as though trying to keep his seams from bursting; thick arms are secure around his shoulders, and a rough palm rubs broad strokes down his back, smoothing the tension until Shouto is relaxed.

You were right. Izuku does give great hugs. Shouto came away doughy, and fuller, and with the stark realisation that while touching Izuku soothed the ache, it still felt completely different to touching you.

Later, as he leaned his head against the desk surface, he sluggishly contemplated the implications of that.

#oh monty this makes me ache for him sooo terribly #i got sooo sad at 'he was a project' bc truly :(((( like a test trial :(( oh im so sad #and this is so powerful omg: any sort of reality in which Shouto succumbs to his father’s ideals and manipulation #would have to be a world in which his mother does not exist. <- :(((( he loves his mama #and i looove the idea of you reminding him of the parts that he loves and admires about his momma #how you view softness as strength and it ISN'T EARNED!!! that's the impt bit. I AM SUUUCH A SUCKER FOR THAT #The build up is subtle and cumulative and yet each instance strikes him with the magnitude of a thermodynamic explosion.#<- SO GOOD DHBGHSF. i also love that you gradually ease him into it #anD WAAAAAHHH THE WAY it shocks no one that youre touchy w him and he's double thinking if its just him bc ure all he can think about latel #An innocent “can you hug me?” becomes so much more daunting to voice with all that longing crowded up behind it <- I WANT TO HUG HIMSDHFBSD #he is sooOOO precious :(( learning how to love and be touched and wanting it just cos he wants it :((#the oLYMPIC LEVEL LEAPS OF LOGIC HAS ME CACKLING HJSBDFJ i looove todobaku dynamics my GOD #AND HOW HE KNOWSSSS BKG IS GONNA ASK HIM TO SPILL IT ANYWAY DSHFBSJD PLS #AND SO TRUE :(( he and bkg are the same !!! in diff ways !! nd he allows the affection to touch him!!! despite all his bark WAAAH #MONTY I LOVE EVERYTHING U WRITE TRULY DHSD THE CHARACTERISATION NAD THE LIL DETAILS I AM JUST !!#AND SHOUTO BEING SCARED OF RECIPROCATING!!! BC OF U REJECTING HIM WAAAAH my precious boy #I CHOKED AT THE DEKU SUGGESTIODNFHSDB and everyone in their group bursting into tears at the thought of shouto's touch WAAAH #theres so much personality to your scenes monty i am forever in awe of it!!!!!! the todobaku dynamic SOARS and bkg's personality shines thr #and im cryING at shouto counting all the steps to you asfbsd he likes how your gaze follows him :(( OHHH IM MELTINGG HE LIKES UUU #WHEN U JOKE ABT HIM MISSING U HGSDFSJA AND HE GOES FULL ON ANXIETY BUT URE LIKE EH ! LETS GO !#IM CRYININGHBDFDS HES SOO CUTE when u grab his wrist and its ALLL he can focus on oh GOD let me HAVE HIM #AND HIM WANTING UR NAME TO BE ATTASCHED TO HIS DFJBS OH im so sick for tht BUT HE'D RATHER BE ALONE WITH U GODDDD #his lil movements tyring to get close to u like spreading his thighs?? OMGFBASFJ thATS SO CUTE #I LOOOOVE the attention to all the small points of touch AND WHEN HE TAKES UR HAND BACK TO SANDWICH IT WITH HIS OWN GOOOD DHJFBSHJ SOMEONE #everything abt this interaction is makigme GO INSANE monty omg. 'i like it best when ure happy' and then HIM OVERTHINKING THE HELLLL #OUT OF YOU HUGGING MIDORIYAF AHSDJFJ IM GOIDHFGJBSL #HIS LITTLE SULKKK SAAAAVE ME and he considers oVERTURNING UR HAND TO INTERTWINE UR FINGERS HELLOADG>>>!>!>>!!?!?!#MOnty i feel like a rabid dog going insane at small touches LIKE. they could breathe around one another and i think i woud die #bnha #sho

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chisungie · 3 months ago

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#wait i knew there were talks abt moving the science center and probs abt closing but i didnt know when #last month is crazy tho😭 i didnt even get to take my cousins there yet!!#and now if it reopens dt it wont be nostalgic bc itll be a new place and setup :(#also dt is a bad fucking spot imo nobody would be able to fucking get to it by car and i dont veen think its a good tourist spot #like its not at all. thats literally a fun science place for kids imo. i went again as an adult i think id know #also the location it was at allowed for a little nature walk which is like. partially the point of that place. nature. among other things.#anyway it was pretty and cool and last time i went a big school of kids were there so i know for a fact kids were having fun #with it waaay after i outgrew it so.this is just sad :c #also my cousins wouldve liked it a lot imo bc ones just. really curious and touches everything. which the.place lets kids do.#omg she's love the kids play area sm and i havent gone back bc i am. not accompanied by a kid. but i couldve seen it again w her sobbss #and the other one is grown but like #science nerd. sort of. he likes space which they.also have #but theyre both v silly and i know itwouldve been a lot of fun aAAAAA why did i hold off so long 😭#actually i only searched it bc ripleys aquarium has a dragons/myth exhibit and like. girl what r u on abt rn #anyway ummmm aquarium kinda expensive and im not paying for 3 but alone is boring and tbh its p expensive even alone😭#like ive been there and its lovely but ummm no thank you 😗#44597

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danikamariewrites · 6 months ago

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daddy az please and thanks!!

(i want a baby so bad rn im abt to ask the man for one)

Dad!Azriel headcanons

Azriel x reader

Notes: i don’t want kids but i would have his babies (also sorry this is short)

Warnings: slight mention of childbirth

When you told him that you’re pregnant he was so happy. Crazy overjoyed and couldn’t believe that you guys were going to be parents

He was a worrier during your pregnancy

Az hovered A LOT. He just wanted to make sure you were safe and comfy

“Azzy, I told you I’m fine. The babe is fine.” You would say to him. “I know, I’m sorry. I just can’t help it.” He’d say, pulling you into a hug

You didn’t mind that much though. You were glad Azriel was protective of his family

You knew you and your babe would never have to fear anything because of your mate

When the day came for your child to come into the world you were extremely calm having Madja by your side

The old healer had to kick him out of the room because of his hovering and never ending questions, only letting him back in when you were starting to push

You had given birth to a beautiful baby boy that immediately became the light of your lives

A few weeks after your baby boy had been born Azriel had a woken up and gone into the nursery to watch the babe sleep. Azriel couldn’t help but think about how he would be as a father now that it was real

He didn’t really have a parental figure to look up to. Az was never really allowed to be around his mother, his father sucked, Rhys’s father wasn’t that much better

But then it hit him. He had Rhys’s mother in his memory and Rhys and Feyre to look to now

Az is a very hands on dad. He doesn’t want to miss a minute of this with you and the babe

Watching Az play with the babe made you so unbelievably happy. Getting to watch your little family is the best thing you’ve ever witnessed

While he’s a mamas boy there’s no denying your little boy is his father’s mini me. They have the same dark hair, same hazel eyes, but your face

He loves acting like his dad. He always makes his wings copy Azriel’s wing movements and wants blue siphons. Usually when Az can’t find one of his siphons you two usually find your boy trying to tie it to his hand with Azriel’s boot laces. He looks up at you two from his hiding spot with a huge smile, “Look mama! I’m just like dad!” Your hearts melt at his excitement

That’s why it’s so tough to burst his happy little bubble

Azriel feels bad taking the siphon from his little boy, but he needs it

Punishing or reprimanding your sweet boy was always difficult. He never did anything terribly wrong, but saying no was never easy

It’s especially hard for Azriel. He doesn’t want to be seen as a monster (exactly what his father was). When he gives Az his signature pout Azriel always gives in.

An example: “dad, can we have ice cream for dinner? Mama is working late she won’t know.” Azriel raised a brow at the little boy. “Now, now we can’t be hiding things from your mama. She’d be mad at us and ban ice cream from the house.” “But please dada,” he pouts, giving Az his best sad eyes. After a minute Azriel hung his head in defeat. “Ok, but you need to eat a vegetable too.” “YAY!”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel headcanons

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sophswritingthings · 1 year ago

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I was thinking abt english!reader back to japan with mizu, she doesn't have any experience with chopsticks, right? So I was thinking about having diner, taigen ranting and everything and mizu halfway through her meal just notices readers meal untouched and reader struggling so she just ends up feeding reader.

(also i don't know if you do rq but if you like I would be glad if you elaborated more :])

pairing: mizu x fem!english!reader

warning(s): light swearing, taigen is a warning in itself

a/n: this hits home because I a basic american do not know how to use chopsticks

summary: your eating dinner when mizu notices you not eating. her eyes travel to your hands, messing with the chopsticks in your hands.

word count: 554 words / 3,063 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your eyes flickered from mizu to taigen, watching as the pair chatted. well, it was mostly taigen talking— ranting about his days work, and how his chignon had finally grown back after mizu had sliced it clean off.

than, your eyes landed on your food.

it was good food, yes, ringo had cooked it—and he was an excellent cook.

yet you hadn’t touched it.

your eyes than drifted to the chopsticks, letting out a quiet enough sigh that mizu couldn’t hear it. you had come from england where they used utensils such as forks, knives, and spoons.

here, they used chopsticks. sticks, to eat your food.

it’s not that you didn’t respect the culture, by not using them—

—you seriously just didn’t know how to use them.

so, you left your food untouched.

mizu felt her attention drifting away from taigen, tired of listening to his voice, if she were being completely honest with herself. her blue eyes landed on you.

you.. weren’t eating.

she watched as you spun the chopsticks in your fingers, gazing down at them with somewhat of a sad expression on your lips.

“my love…” she whispered, seeing your head perk up a little, “why haven’t you eaten?”

you looked away, embarrassed by your lack of knowledge, “I-I don’t..” you murmured. “I-I don’t know how to use these.”

you held the chopsticks up to her, her expression softening at your words. she nodded, sliding closer to you. she grabbed the chopsticks from your hands.

“I can show you later,” she whispered. “for now.. you need to eat.”

mizu slid the chopsticks into the noddles, picking a few up and holding them up to your lips.

you giggled at her, your face blushing red as you allowed her to feed you.

".. you two are weird," taigen huffed, folding his arms across his chest, "now, are we going to get back to our conversation, mizu, or not?"

she rolled her eyes, "you think im weird for making sure my wife eats?"

"not that she eats, that you're feeding her like a baby bird!" taigen hissed, "now answer my question."

"hmm--no," she hummed, turning back to look at you as you happily allowed her to feed you.

after taigen and ringo had left, mizu sat you comfortably back at the table--sitting herself behind you. she grabbed the chopsticks, and adjusted one in the crease where your thumb met your palm.

"now bend your finger," she gently pushed on your pointer finger, creasing it a little and sliding the other stick under your bended finger.

she straightened out your middle finger, and curled the rest of your fingers downward.

"now hold this one with these two fingers," she adjusted your ring and pink against the first chopstick. "and this one with these fingers."

she adjusted your middle and pointer against the second stick, holding it firmly so it would slip away.

"now eat," she let go of your hands, and wrapped her arms around your waist.

you weren't the best at it, but you managed to pick up the food well enough to eat.

"now you don't need me to feed you." she chuckles.

you laugh along with her, and place a kiss on her forehead. "thank you, sweetheart. can we please go to sleep? i've had enough of taigen for one evening."

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a/n: I literally pulled up a pic of how chopsticks were supposed to be held (step by step) and just wrote that shit down. next time I eat with those fuckers im coming back to this fic

#mizu x you #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu #blue eyed samurai #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #ask #asked and answered #request #fic request #x reader

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desideriumwriter · 1 year ago

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hi! i'd like to ask a one shot on fred weasley where the reader is a pureblood slytherin (introverted, stubborn, etc) and they're in a secret relationship. one day their differences lead them to having a huge argument where their pride gets the best of them and they insult each other (about their hogwarts houses stereotypes, their families, blood status) saying the worst things.

thank you <33

this is my first request ever and i’m so excited! im not rlly sure how i feel abt it but i do hope this fits what you wanted! (900 words)

“I’m tired of us being a secret. I’m tired of being a secret.” Fred said as he closed the door behind him, locking you both in the potions classroom that was now abandoned and empty.

“What?” You scoffed.

“I can’t keep doing this. Hiding our relationship from everyone. Why can’t we just tell them?” He sighed.

“My family, they wouldn’t approve of it, you know that.” Your voice was small.

Your family’s views were strict and old fashioned. They were against wizards or witches and muggles being together, especially getting married and having children. They called anyone They saw and they’ve pushed those views on you ever since you were small.

It hurts to say but if they found out you were in a relationship with the type of person they weren’t fond of, someone like Fred Weasley. You’d be shamed and disowned in less than a minute.

“I don’t care what your family thinks! Why do you care so much about what they think?” Fred groaned. “We don’t have to tell them directly, we can tell other people, let your parents figure it out on their own. They can deal with it.”

“Fred. Our families are-”

“My family has said nothing but good things about you! Hell, George cares about you as much as I do! Yours can’t even return the favor.”

“What? You told your family about me?” Your face slightly dropped.

“Only George…” He trailed off.

“That wasn’t part of the deal.” You spat, the awkward look on Fred's face was wiped off and replaced with anger.

“Deal? What bloody deal? You’re making it sound like this is some bet you took.” He scoffed.

“No! You know what I mean, we promised not to tell anybody.”

“That’s what I’m tired of! How many more times do I have to say it?”

“Fred..don’t you know what they’ll say about me?”

“You won’t be the only one getting talked about. This isn’t just about you!” Fred rubbed his face with his hands. “I should’ve listened to George. He was right.” He mumbled to himself. Your face slowly dropped.

“What?” You spoke quietly, all the volume in your voice had been washed away.

“When I first told George about you, he seemed offended that I could be in love with someone like you.” He spat.

“Someone like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You were taken aback by his sudden change of tone.

“A slytherin. He didn’t think someone as bitter and stubborn and vile as you could love me.” His words stung like acid.

“And you’re not? Don’t you see how reckless and narrow-minded you can be with the things you do?”

The next few minutes were just the both of you taking stabs at each other. Insulting anything you could find one another. You both began to sound like broken records, repeating the same cruel things at each other.

“I’m choosing my own path in life, I’m not letting myself get pushed into something I don’t want to do.” At this point he was just spewing things out, biting back at you, you decided to do the same.

“You mean that little shop you want to open? With all your stupid trick candies? Have you even thought about how you’re going to get it, if you’ll even be allowed to sell things like that?”

“Well, it’s better than being like you and following in the footsteps of your mother.” He shook his head. You scoffed in disbelief.

“Don’t you dare compare me to her. You don’t know how hard it’s been for me. You don’t know what I’ve dealt with.”

“Oh of course, it must be so hard living in that giant mansion, getting everything you want handed on a silver plate.” He fake pouted and mocked a sad voice.

“I’ve worked for everything I have and I'm grateful for it. Have you ever?” He pointed a threatening finger at you.

“Working for it? By stealing and lying? At least I tell the truth.” You shot back.

“Then tell me why you refuse to let us be together in public.” Fred blurted out, you went silent.

“I’ve told you a million times, it’s my family-“

“No it isn’t! It isn’t about them anymore!” He shouted. “Are you embarrassed of me? You can’t be seen with a Weasley?”

“No! It’s not about you, it has nothing to do with you.” Your voice crackled, Fred only stepped back and sighed.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this, Y/N.” He ran his hands through his hair.

“I love you.” You blurted out, eyes beginning to water, tears filling them up. Fred was already crying, his teardrops hitting his robes and the floor.

“If you truly do, then you don’t in a way that I can understand.” He sniffled and began to turn away, heading for the door.

“Please don’t go. We can fix this, alright?” You cried as you clinged onto his wrist.

“Either you can stop being afraid and walk out there with your hand in mine,” Fred’s voice was stern as he began to give you his ultimatum. “Or I can leave, alone. And we’ll choose to believe nothing has ever happened between us.”

He stood there quietly while you searched to find the words, hot tears began to stream down your face. Freds eyes were only red and puffy now, his cheeks tearstained.

“I don’t…I don’t know. I can’t.” Your voice crackled as you shook your head weakly, giving an answer that you weren’t even sure of. He nodded weakly and tucked in his lips.

“Alright.” His voice was small. Defeated. Fred looked down for a moment, then brought his head back up and sniffled.

Fred gave you a pained smile. Then left, he didn’t even dare to look at you one last time. Shutting the door quietly.

#fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley blurb #blurb #oneshot #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x gn!reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley angst #requests

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a-libra-writes · 2 years ago

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Rocky Rickaby x gn or fem reader who is really REALLY physically affectionate headcannons? Like i'm talking giving him a nice smooch on the lips from time to time for no reason, hugging and or cuddling Rocky when they or he wants sum and giving him small pecks and kisses on his forehead, cheek, sometimes nose and ALWAYS giving him compliments and words of reassurance when they see that Rocky's feeling a bit down in the dumps. While savagely telling or killing the person off.

I'm totally normal abt him bro dw

Okay so I got MANY requests for a Part 2 on the first Rocky HCs, so Im using this as a jumping off point! Lots of affectionate GN Reader in here, and i have. So many thoughts. So lets goooo

Obviously ... Rocky loves all this attention. When he initially started crushing on you, any attention was good and wanted, but especially the smiles and approving words. The best part in those early months was the fussing. Since he's always in some kind of state, you'd call Rocky over to smooth coat or tidy some leaves out of his hair.

He'd actually keep still, too excited and surprised to think of moving while your hands pawed over him - even if it just lasted a few seconds. At some point you'd clean dirt (or was that blood?) off his face with one of your hankerchiefs, and you better believe he always "forgot" to return it. Maybe if he knew you'd be at the cafe, he wouldn't fix himself up, hoping you might be inclined to do it instead. Maybe.

Anytime you initiated some closer form of contact - first the fussing, then maybe touching his face, then perhaps hugging - he always freezes for just a second, then immediately accepts and melts into it. And after that, he's more than happy to initiate the same kind of affection.

It's almost like Rocky needs to "wait" for permission, to have someone else cross that line first. Like he isn't allowed to, or rather - the wait is better than potential rejection. This is doubly so if you're more of a posh cat, or perhaps someone whose more closed off. Impulsive and adoring as he is, the thought of frightening you away or you being repulsed by him is too painful a thought. Once you make it clear that he can "cross" a new line in the relationship, he practically leaps over it. As time goes on he won't have these worries nearly as much. They're mostly subconscious, too - an anxiety he can't figure or name, and he'd rather not dwell on it.

Honestly, if you aren't a physically affectionate person, it'll be tough. Rocky really thrives off it and sees it as an affirmation of your feelings, though he soaks up the praise and loving words, being physically close, held and accepted just hits different. And ... combining both the physical and verbal affection? Yeah, he's just. Doe-eyed and lovestruck. It's both sweet and a little sad how desperately happy it makes him.

Your loving words don't even have to be anything effusive or overly romantic - simple appreciation for when he helps you out (or tries to), daily "I love you"s, complimenting something about him, expressing happiness at spending time with him, it all goes straight to his heart and his head. If he goes too long without it, Rocky will prompt you for praise and attention. Before you two were a couple, Ivy teased him about it - "You're always looking for them to pat you on the head!" Yes, and what of it? If you're someone whose older or at least seemed more mature and collected, your approval only matters all the more, as is his desire to impress you.

This also means if you're ever upset or cross with him, he takes it to heart as well. Icing him out, trying to do the silent treatment, etc seriously messes with him. Rocky will completely blame himself and spiral and it won't be pretty, so it's best to resolve the fights maturely and with a level head. Yes, he tries to act like he isn't hurt or terrified you'll leave. It's an act, and a poor one at that.

Since he's so noodly, it's easy to wrap your arms around Rocky's torso for a big hug! He loves it, of course, he'll return the favor and lift you right up (or ... try to, anyway). He'll even (try to) spin you around! If you let him, Rocky will just stay clinging and lean on you, inquiring about your day and what you're up to. He likes to rest his chin on your shoulder or your head, his tail happily whapping at your leg while he chatters.

He'd really love it if you just let him curl up in your arms on a couch or something - seriously, when's the last time he's had that? It's almost a novel experience, and even better if you're a bigger and floofier cat! He'll have moments of disbelief that this is real, that you're allowing it and you want the clingy sleepy snuggles. Sometimes he falls asleep because you're so comfy and warm. Again, when is the last time he's had a warm, safe and cozy place to sleep? When ??

(Semi-related note, he can fall asleep in the weirdest positions and places. Years of being homeless will do that.)

Oh! And the kisses. Kisses are good, they are great. Even the little ones on the cheek or his brow. He's not totally shameless so any lingering or deeper kisses in private (and ofc if you're masc, that's just safer). I mean he could just kiss and hug you forever, he just gets drunk on all the affection and love. Definiately the sort of person to just make out and be totally content; he'll get pretty cheeky and bitey, too. If you have a tickle spot, look out. It will be found. Also, if he's already in a manic-happy mood, expect random lines of poetry between the kisses.

(Zib always notices when there's lovebites or lipstick left on him and comments on it. Rocky almost never notices but !! It makes him oddly happy, even as he immediately covers/cleans up.)

Also if you go on bootlegging jobs with him, there's probably a "no PDA until certain danger has passed" rule because of uh, certain past incidents. If you two start getting touchy-feely then Freckle coughs VERY loudly and tries not to die of embarrassment.

Even when you two are in a situation where there can't be any PDA - maybe you're masc presenting, maybe you're in front of friends who don't approve or you're in a "business" meeting with some sketchy sorts - He still wants to stand very close, shoulder-to-shoulder. Rocky isn't aware how much he'll touch your shoulder, pat your head, pat your back, and so on.

Alas, he can't play his violin for you while smooching and hugging. He still likes to hum melodies to work on later. Looking at you just makes them pop into his head. That means cuddling isn't this serene quiet thing, you two are chattering or he's humming something against your skin. Oh, and he's great at remembering your favorite songs, whether they're folksy, jazz, classical - he has the range!

Since you're around him so often, you'll notice when Rocky's happy-go-lucky mask begins to slip. He'd try even harder to keep it up around you, not wanting to "scare" you off, but no one can keep that momentum up forever. You'll have to reassure him, many times, that he doesn't have to pretend around you. If he's troubled, he should tell you. It's going to take time (and probably a life threatening injury) before you get the full extent of his loneliness and fears. He's been burying it for years, after all. Slowly, he'll bring up bits of his past and his parents, but you won't get much unless he's under the influence or wounded.

It's been said before but, yes, it's obvious to anyone with a pulse how much he adores you. Some people he knows don't even know you're name because he always refers to you as his angel from on high, his auspicious muse, his grandest sweetheart, his Helen of Troy, so on and so forth. It's just. endless. If you're a more high-class sort of person, and/or someone whose very level-headed or serious, they don't hide their surprise to learn you two are together. There might be blunt questions, like what do you see in him. He won't admit it, but those inquiries do hurt Rocky's feelings, albeit he laughs it off. He's quite happy if you stick up for him and express that you're very happy with him, thank you very much.

So, yes. You have this particular bootlegging music-playing poetry-reciting man around your finger. Treat him well and don't let him go off and do stupid things for your sake. If you asked anything of Rocky, he'd do it in a heartbeat, but that sort of intense devotion isn't always in his interest. Maybe that devotion gets a little obsessive, especially on his insecure days. A more steady and mature partner would help pump the breaks on that, while someone more on his wavelength would uh .... Well, it'd be absolutely chaotic, but at least it'd be fun?

#i tried not to repeat myself but oops LOOK #he is a LOVE BUG okay please give him attention 😭#rocky rickaby x reader #lackadaisy x reader

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milgram-tournament · 1 year ago

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MILGRAM Best Song Tournament, Round 1, Match 4 HALF vs. MAGIC

Propaganda for both options under the cut!

Propaganda for HALF:

kazui may just be an old gay man but HE CAN SING.

its. literally stunning.

like aside from his character and everything else, half is just really really beautifully written

THE INSTRUMENTALS.

HIS V O I C E??? its so pretty

heartbreaking lyrics. i dont love kazui as a character but i have bawled to half

GAY RIGHTS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love amane but she will undoubtedly win when her purge march poll rolls around, so lets let the old man have a win shall we?

---

half propaganda let's goooo sorry i'm sobern't in true kazui style so this probably won't make a bit of sense

theatre kid man. i love him, incredible mv.

this song is pure ASMR to me

visually aligned with Cat and it's so lovely to see that continuity

the GRAINY MOVIE DOTS THING ON THE MV <3

kazui is so dramatic. i love him i love him

dapper gentleman. such clothes

the key change is so well done

AND THE . THE PART WITH THE. THE ENDING SORT OF LYRICS OVERLAID WITH SPEAKING. and then his quieter singing and, and, and o h my god. im sorry. im not very coherent abt this rn

every part of the song is amazing but once it gets to the key change and after it keeps stepping up the amount of being perfect

kazui is in it

go my psionic warriors vote for everyone's favourite failhusband

no children were tortured in the making of this MV (cough looking at You magic)

---

Allow me to present my Half propaganda!

- The slower tempo adds a very relaxing feeling to the song. Kinda ironic, but I like it! It sort of reminds of old indie songs from 2012 (especially with what I think is whistling added in the instrumental in-between chorus and verses.)

- Kazui’s voice. Enough said.

- It’s very easy to listen to, and I find it’s one of the only songs from Milgram that I like to listen to out of context (besides After Pain, Backdraft, and Purge March, oddly enough.)

- The MV is rife with imagery, and is used to beautiful effect. It really makes you feel for Kazui and his situation.

- The scene with him and Hinako before the key change… that makes me so emo.

- The overlapping part at the end… the lyrics combined with the dialogue in the background makes me really sad in a way I can’t explain.

Propaganda for MAGIC:

MAGIC MY BELOVED MAGIC!!! Its one of the best MVs in the entire series, even including T2. Magic is visually stunning and has some fantastic art direction but also is very clever in how it conveys its themes and ideas. Magic doesn't really hide anything from you, not really. It's all symbolic but it Tells You Things. It shows you the abuse, it shows you the cat. There's a fun little relationship going on here where, In Magic. Amane's pain and suffering isn't taken seriously by the people around her and the Audience we are discouraged to take it at face value due to the fictionalized nature of Magic. It's so cool. I'm so fond of the song as well, it's one of the best in the series purely cause of the Layers in it. The implications of this Inability to be good is seeped into Magic. Amane knows this isn't reality, Magic knows it's a show, she watches it at the end. And it's so Sad to me that even in her fictionalized happy world she Cannot be a good girl. It's a standard completely out of reach for her and that idea is just conveyed so well visually.

Im not even talking about the goddamn cat yet- the cat symbolism goes Deep. That cat is HER it has the same wounds Amane has in Purge March. I- I cant talk about the intertextuality of Purge March and Magic here this is Magic propaganda only- I- there's so much good stuff to Magic. I Re watched it over and over again. It has some the Best Writing and Visual Communication in Milgram and I will Die on this Hill.

---

shoutout to magic for having pretty props AND being vague as fuck about the crime! diversity win!

seriously though amane looks SO cute in it! the mv has such a pretty and colorful style and even with that it's able to show the horrors of what amane went through.

adding onto my last point. that scene where the cat is hyperventilating and you see the camera shaking???? that scene where the mascots find amane helping the cat and they're all standing over her? CHILLS. im repeating myself but the fact that they were able to portray the awful things amane went through in a genuinely emotional way while still keeping the cute cartoon look is soo impressive

there are SO many layers to itill the entire cartoony style making it look like a tv show… utilizing the cartoony effects and bright colors to show amane downplaying her own pain… the transformation after she gets punished barely changing anything to show just how manipulated she was from the start… ueueueue

ALSO ALSO ALSO THE SCENE AT THE END WITH AMANE STARING AT THE SCENE? OHHH ITS SO GOOD it adds such a feeling of dread and reminds you on top of this whole thing that all of this is truly horrifying! something is going on here!

this song is so catchy it gets stuck in my head CONSTANTLY

"Dear wise one, Am I worthy? Is it ok to spoil myself?" AMANE... UEUEUUEUE

the little ding sound effects in the instrumental?????

amanes voice is ADORABLE

THE INSTRUMENTAL IN THAT PART WHERE SHES HELPING THE CAT HAS THAT GODLY TYPE SOUND YOUD TYPICALLY ASSOCIATE WITH CHURCHES AND STUFF AND I DONT KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN IT PROPERLY BUT JUST RELISTEN TO IT AND YOU WILL KNOW WHAT I MEAN. ITS SUCH A NEAT DETAIL

i could go on about this mv for days but i am not a theorist unfortunately. just. magic sweep

#milgram #milgramtournament #mukuhara kazui #amane momose

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himabyul · 7 months ago

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Satan & Violins

I share a lot of similarities with Satan, even when before they canonized something about him; one of them being violinist!Satan😭 In spite of me having a mini identity crisis following the drop of his canon violinist card, i think it makes sense! heres why.

Disclaimer!

1. I have not picked up an instrument in years

2. This is purely bcuz my brain is so busy thinking abt Satan so its kinda rambly. . Pls bare w me T_T

3. THIS IS LONG IM SO SORRY

4. Not too used to tumblr writing just yet sorry if it's messy

(Uploaded on my twitter aswell :D)

The violin and its family, unlike other string instruments (ex. the guitar), doesnt have these little things (that i forgor the name of because im a bad musician) that separates every note. those little separating thingies are the reason why people who dont know shit about playing a key on guitar but memorize musical scales (me) is at least able to strum a simple one octave melody.

Obviously, the two come in with their one difficulty (i prefer the violin myself), but it's a little bit harder to pull that trick with the violin. As you can see, theres not exactly something to tell you where each note begins or where they end. Nothing to determine where is where. You simply have to memorize the placement and the distance between each note. You basically play the violin with Your Gut (1). We'll keep this in mind for now.

Moving on, let's talk about body posture.

Beginner violinist usually directlty face towards the strings when playing, as they aren't used to letting their 'gut' lead the show. However, more experienced players would find no need to do so. A quick glance at Satan's art could tell us he was at least above beginner level to be brave enough to face (us) instead.

When you're not facing your violin, you would usually lean your head towards it, resulting in your ear becoming the closest thing to it- here's a real life example:

Now, if there was anything my teacher warned me before starting violin, is that even without having your ear be the closest thing to it, the strings are already LOUD😭 so its even louder when you alr have ur ear on it. The violin is considered one of the most emotional instruments ever, their lower sound resemble what we use to express sadness in speech. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, you as a player are forced to feel what you're playing. Thus is also why you play the violin with Your Heart (2).

So, how does this tie into Satan? It's no secret that our handsome man is incredibly romantic, and to me if he ever wants to express something to us and making sure the message is clearly received, the equally emotional violin is his best bet! The violin allows Satan to play heartwrenching notes that would quickly be felt by the listener.

Lets get technical.

There's still another side of the violin, as there is another side to Satan. The way you stroke your bow matters, the way you angle it so you'll only hit the notes you want. (thankfully if you mess up, the violin is made to still sound graceful😂). Satan too, is quite the detail oriented person. He is tactical, analytical, observant, a man obsessed with striving to be the perfect one, etc etc. The need of preciseness of the violin is definitely right up his alley. The way you need everything to be correct to be rewarded for a beautiful sound. Idk exactly where I'm going with this but it's basically intelligence meets emotion kinda thing, do you see it too?!?!

In conclusion, the violin is a wonderful instrument that both requires great attention to detail yet is also incredibly emotional and heartfelt, an instrument that requires your gut and heart guide your play without abandoning technique. Satan, the incredibly smart yet fluffy softie, is quite literally made for this and I LOVE HIM for that RAAAAAAHHHH. im normal.

THATS IT RLLY im soooo sorry if it's incredibly messy please have a sugarry picture <3 ily

#obey me satan #satan obey me #yes i like omori how did you know #thinking abt me and satan covering duet mghhhnnnhhhh #STAN SATAN OUR MULTI TALENTED KING FOR CLEAR SKIN #rambling a bit #obey me #obey me nightbringer

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mamadarama · 4 months ago

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i REALLY need to express this somewhere bc i didint knwo where to go BUT since ypure the CEO of madarei (and orher rarpeairs i RLY like) i just can NEVER get over the fact that they have so much undiscovered lore togetjer 🥲🥲🥲 its like. they have a red string tying their bonds for fuck knows why (that successor business shit we never got to know what) and ITS MAKIGN ME LOSE MYMINDDD EVERYTIME I THINK OF ITTTT like what the HELL was he doing at their livign place??@?$#??#?$ this successor business shit is literaly fuckigng INSANE to me like what the actual fuckity fuck was that abouttttt 😭😭😭 (i even wrote like. a non-idol au fic thingy about this.) n im kinda sad the writers lowkey do not give a fuck abt elaboratign on this further .... UGHHGJJJ its just that they have so much THINGS going on behind the screen and its makign me rip my hair out EVERYTIME its slightly mentioned or implied 😭 like. how long have they known eachother????@??#?@??# im so fucing emo abt thrm omg

WAOW am i the ceo of madarei now ????? tis an honor o7

YEAH ITS CRAZY HOW LITTLE THEY ACTUALLY INTERACT ON SCREEN im kind of obsessed with it actually it makes them seem sooo mysterious .... i love me a good ship that doubles as a thinkpiece .

i dunno if its that the writers dont care to elaborate on their relationship , i think theyre doing it on purpose for the suspense and ambiguity. sometimes the best flavor to add to a piece of writing is the parts you leave up to suggestion . makes people have to think a little harder and become more invested in the characters as a result . the secrecy of it all is part of what makes madarei so interesting to me..... the writers do a really good job of writing from anzus point of view as a classmate and coworker, shes the protag but not the protag of every story so from reading the stories , we only have a little more information than she does. so the fact that we barely know anything about madara and reis relationship, in addition to the fact that the only other character that seems to know anything about their relationship is ritsu , suggests that madara and rei are actively hiding something. and ritsu only knows because madara was living with them for awhile when he was exiled; they didnt tell him. he wouldnt even know any more than the rest of the cast currently does if he wasnt reis brother .

i wanna bet theyve probably known each other since they were kids. at the very least since middle school cuz by the time madara was exiled, he and rei were already close enough that rei invited madara to stay with him and his family until he got back on his feet . the sakumas are incredibly secretive and cagey about practically everything, so the fact that reis parents allowed that to happen at all implies that they also already knew and trusted madara. which, for the sakumas, is not an easy or quick status to achieve .

so yeah. theyre up to something . cant say what it is or when well know, but the longer the writers hold out on telling us the harder itll hit when they do. ya think rei and madara are planning for rei to turn him into a vampire and thats what he means by successor? hahahahah. wouldnt that be something.

#ask #anon #whiteboard

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ofmdee · 5 months ago

Text

😵

been having some thinky thoughts today, and for a while, rly, abt my Feelings abt breathing underwater and i tried to type something up on twitter but that jsut was not letting me think my thoughts correctly

i love BU........... so goddamn much. it started out as nothing more than a silly idea abt little mermaid ed meeting stede and kind of ballooned into what ive built it up into today. it's so important to me... but it's making me a little miserable right now?

miserable because i dont want to work on it, but i WANT TO want to work on it, i want to tell this story and read the finished product, ive got so many ideas, but i just. cannot get myself to do the actual WORK of making sentences and then staging all the pics........... what used to be a fun little pastime now feels like a chore, an obligation, a compulsion almost. it sucks, but it sucks more NOT doing it, you know what i mean? idk.

i know ive built it up into this big THING to myself, like... idk, i do this so often, i have big ideas and love to plan and organize them and then i get going with such intensity until i abruptly fizzle out. i start things and dont finish them, and i guess i just rly dont want this to be another thing that gets thrown on my unfinished projects pile :/

i have the next 2 parts drafted, but every time i go back to poke at them and edit them i just get so disheartened because it's obvious that my heart wasn't really in writing them, and it's difficult to salvage a rough draft like that. part of me wants to just delete those parts entirely and say fuck it im taking an indefinite hiatus, and i will start fresh when this is fun again! which would probably be the best thing, actually, but... i am reluctant to do that, because i just dont have anything else to rly fill my time rn.

i havent been getting a lot of joy out of... anything, rly, for a long time now, im so bored and apathetic and even my normal go to things arent cutting it anymore. and idk if it's a depression thing or if im truly outgrowing some interests, but either way i know i need to get more Things in my life somehow, because writing and sims are my two biggest pastimes, and then i combined them, and then i got sick of both so ive got so little to go on! so i keep poking at the things that i used to love, hoping to find that spark again 😪 i love these little guys and their little world!!! and it makes me sad that im not actually having Fun with the PROCESS.

it doesn't help that i am constantly torn between man i wish more ppl read my fic!!! i work so hard on it!! and man i never want anyone to perceive me or my writing ever it's so amateur!! idk what i want and idk what i want to DO about it!!

so, idk!! idk where this is all going, lol, i just... wanted to try and organize these thoughts somehow.

trying to reason w myself that at the end of the day, i am writing a fanfiction. that's it. it's not that big of a deal, and yet it feels huge to me, somehow. I don't wanna let down the ppl who are reading it, and i dont wanna let myself down again, either.

BUT it's not supposed to make me feel miserable it is supposed to be fun i am lowkey crying rn because like urghghghgh why isnt it fun?!!?!

so. i think i gotta do some more thinking, because not making any kind of decision is making things worse! and idk, if all of this hasnt put u off of the idea of my fic, here is the series page lmfao i could use some encouragement i guess......

but i am going to seriously put more thought into an official hiatus, because i think i am getting Too preoccupied with it again and it's messing with me!!!

i actually had a decent time doing those kitty ed pics today, even tho they didn't do so hot, so maybe i am just gonna try to focus on that kind of thing, doing stuff that actually catches my attention, and also doing things without the intention of sharing them at all. allowing things to be messy. i get so caught up in the thought of someone else seeing my work that i paralyze myself trying to make it PERFECT.

i had a decent time doing that oneshot from ed's pov as well. so maybe i need to work on projects that are a bit smaller scale. i dont have to say goodbye to BU stuff forever, but i am just so ALL OR NOTHING that it feels like a way bigger decision than it actually is 😓

so i guess....... im gonna sleep on it for a while. think about it and try and come to a firm decision. because if i take a break, i need to REALLY take a break, which includes not thinking about it all the time and constantly beating myself up for not doing it 😅

idk, thank you if you read this far, here are a few kitty pics of ed for ur time:

#xoxod #sorry its long and rambly but there are some bonus kitty ed pics at the end #breathing underwater #THINKIN THOUGHTS #now i need to go eat something

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formula-fun · 2 months ago

Note

hi there, let me walk you throught the last few days of my life

saw a list of history recommendations here on tumblr last Friday, saw the series if I had words there and thought "well let's give it a shot!"

started reading Friday night, got obsessed with it, couldn't stop, finished max's part Sunday, a little after the race.

got sad it ended and then VERY happy when I remember about the other part!!

started reading Sunday afternoon, got obsessed with it, couldn't stop, finished charles' part five minutes ago

All of this to day, I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR WORK 😭😭😭

like WTH IS SOO GOOD

the construction, the order of the events, seeing everything fall into place after reading both parts, max learning to grow older and softer, charles understanding his feelings and letting himself have nice things, their mom's, the packs, the I love yous, oh my GOD 😭😭

broke my heart when I reached the end because I could keep read more and more and more of those two maybe forever??

definitely interest in a sequel or spin off or any little crumb showing just a peek of them again

again, amazing work, absolutely brilliant all around (and I was always laughing at your notes hahaha)

sending love !!

😭😭😭😭😭😭 thank youuuuuu i literally cannot tell you how much i love this, hhh. I DO NOT HAVE WORDS

this fic is truly my child, i put so much time and attention into it and i love the way it turned out so much <33 ive never allowed myself to just take my time on something and keep scrapping it over and over until it was exactly how i wanted it, but i'm so glad i did! it makes me really happy that other people appreciate the care that went into it and appreciate the way everything falls into place. i promise it was HEADACHE inducing at times to write two different stories about the same event but it was also really really fun

and thank you abt notes ahhahsahs i do NOT put as much effort into my notes. i usually write my notes at the last second after editing for like 3 hrs straight and just roll on vibes, so im glad you enjoy that <33

dfkjdfksd i'm running low on crumbs but you can have this!! it's from a version of the final chapter in which jos DID tell the press about the miscarriage

Max wakes him up with a kiss at the base of his neck, and then one on his mouth that lingers sweetly. His hands are hesitant on Charles’ waist, his touch light and skittish, which Charles always hates. Charles tells him so, and Max lets out a husky laugh.

“You want more?” he asks, his tone still hesitant even when his eyes are dancing. It makes Charles roll his own eyes, and then roll him; pin him down into the mattress by his wrists and bite at his jaw.

“I want you to touch me like you mean it,” he mutters into his skin.

Max’s wrists flex beneath his grip, muscles coiled and ready to fight. His mouth is curved when Charles kisses it, but he bites Charles’ lip anyway.

“Mean what?” Max whispers against his mouth when they part.

That I’m yours, Charles thinks, but he doesn’t say it. He can’t say it. He can’t really admit to something like that, yet; can’t allow himself to, even if he already knows it’s halfway true. He wants to mean it when he says it, and Max—Max hasn’t chosen him yet.

“That you want me,” Charles says instead. He brushes his nose against Max’s jawline; against his pulse point; follows the line of his throat down to the spot where his mark would go and lets his breath dance over it. Max’s chest goes stone still beneath his own.

Charles ducks forward and brushes a chaste kiss there, as softly as he can. Max shivers beneath him, his eyelids fluttering shut. His tendons shift under Charles’ palms as his hands clench into loose fists.

“Do you—”

In a blink they’re rolling over, Max pressing him down, one hand at the small of his back and the other beneath his knee. Max kisses him hard.

“Like I couldn’t,” Max hisses against his mouth when they part. “What kind of question is that?”

Charles just quirks an eyebrow. “Show me,” he says simply.

For a while, he’s able to forget about it all.

Of course it only lasts as long for it takes the two of them to shower, get dressed and part ways; as soon as he arrives in the paddock he’s swarmed. It’s not the fans—they’re not allowed back here today—or even that people are yelling questions. People know not to try; not when paddock passes can get revoked and fines can be given.

They don’t do anything so stupid, but it doesn’t matter. The scrutiny is just as bad; two dozen cameras following his every move as if waiting for him to do something.

He breathes a sigh of relief as he ducks into the Ferrari hospitality. Andrea slips in after him, and he’s kind enough not to say anything about the way Charles is morosely stuffing biscuits from the coffee bar into his mouth.

“I called your pack off,” he tells Charles, making himself an espresso. He almost manages to look disinterested while he does it.

Charles just raises his eyebrows. “Did you?”

“Well, Pierre did. They didn’t really listen to me.” He dumps two sugars into his coffee, stirring a little aggressively, and then rolls his eyes at the look Charles is giving him. “Oh, leave me alone. It’s been a stressful morning. How are you doing?”

Charles shrugs. “We knew this was going to happen,” he points out.

“Yeah, I know. That wasn’t really my question.”

“I’m,” Charles starts, then looks down at his biscuit; the crescent bite taken out of it. “It’s fine. I don’t think it has fully hit me yet.”

Andrea purses his lips. He nods. “Fred said they’re not allowed to ask any questions about it in the presser. You’re with Pierre, Alex, Oscar and George, so even if someone tries something, you won’t be alone. It was the best we could do.”

“Max?” Charles asks, in spite of himself.

Andrea’s lips somehow purse even harder. “The FIA was strongly advised to give him a week off.”

“But not me.”

“You wouldn’t want a week off.”

Charles hums. That’s true.

“Besides,” Andrea adds in an undertone, “I know you will want to set an example that this is not to be discussed in the paddock. It’s not Fred’s decision, obviously, but…”

“But you don’t trust Max to be able to do the same,” Charles finishes for him.

“I trust him,” Andrea argues. “I trust him to say what we’re all thinking, which is that this is stupid and everyone should fuck off. I just also know that will only make things worse.”

Charles tilts his head, conceding the point. He breaks a crumb off his biscuit; pushes it past his lips.

“Is he alright?” Andrea asks after a beat, his voice quiet. “After last night?”

Andrea had been the one to check on them when they hadn’t reemerged from the bedroom suite, only to find them curled up on the bed, Max having finally passed out. Charles had kissed his forehead before slipping out to join the media strategy session; had pulled the duvet over him as he went. He’d called room service after everyone had finally left, coaxing Max into eating comfort food in bed with him, some meaningless travel show playing in the background, giving Max’s red-rimmed eyes somewhere to drift when they refused to meet Charles’ own.

“He’s fine,” Charles mutters, then scrubs at his hair. “Or he will be fine. I don’t know. He has this stupid idea that he has to be the strong one all the time. He doesn’t feel like he should need me when I am the one who everyone is talking about, and when he thinks it is all his fault.”

“Why does he think that?” Andrea asks.

“Because Jos was the only one who could have told them. Nobody else knew. And Max was the one who told Jos.”

Andrea chews that over, sipping his coffee.

“I don’t know why it matters,” Charles adds. “It is out now. It doesn’t matter how it got out.”

“You could always sue Jos,” Andrea muses. “Defamation or whatever.”

“It’s not worth it.”

“Isn’t it?”

Charles shrugs. Maybe it would give him some sense of satisfaction; probably not. “It would just give the media more to talk about,” he says. “It would make Max feel worse. I would gain nothing. It was going to come out eventually anyway,” he adds. “It was always a matter of time, wasn’t it?”

Andrea grimaces. “It’s hard to say,” he admits, “but these things tend to not stay secrets for long.”

#if i had words #writing tag

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