#answering these asks with little doodles is my little comfort thing when I start feeling existential or slightly depressed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

charliemwrites · 8 months ago

Text

Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #Brandon the crash dummy

2K notes · View notes

feltit-wroteit · 8 months ago

Text

Spoiled and Loved

Art Donaldson x Fem!Reader

In every way, you were the person that made the college experience that much better for Art. You, on the other end, were still struggling to find your place at Uni.

Watnings: inscure reader, lost reader, small angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, reader has rich parents, one s3x joke

There he was. In your usual spot in the cafeteria eating a lunch that his athletic nutritionist must've assigned him to eat. God was your boyfriend beautiful... "Baby?" He called you out of your trance and you smiled at him. "Come?" He motioned for the chair in front of him with his head. You walked toward it and sat down with your lunch that was healthy but certainly not planned. "Hey!" You said. You started eating and asking how his morning practice was and he smiled throught it all. After finishing his lunch and while explaining his morning, he drew mindless doodles on your left hand with a pencil. One was a tennis racket the other a heart and another a paint brush. Once he was done, silence had fallen and Art looked up at you, stopping his drawing. "Y/N?" Art asked while looking for your gaze. "Hmm?" You answered still looking at your left hand. "Look at me." He asked and lifted your head up with the help of his palm on your jaw. You looked at him and smiled. "How was your day so far, baby?" He then asked with certainty. You sighed and went to look down again, only to feel your boyfriend rubbing your jaw and hearing him hum no. When you met his gaze again you felt it.

The need to tell him the truth.

"Art?" He nodded at your interpellation, waiting for you to continue. "I don't think I belong here." You had felt like this for a while, but your boyfriend's joy at being here made that feeling simmer down a little.

That was until yesterday.

"That's Donaldson's girlfriend, right?" A girl said behind you during your history of the arts lecture. You normally tuned these type of conversations out, but today your ears decided that it was a mighty fine time to do as they wanted. "She play any sports?" The girl, Jenny from what you heard her friend call her earlier, proceeded to ask her friend, Luna. "Not that anybody knows of. Not to his level at least." The other girl answered with a certain turn in her voice. It wasn't a nice one at that. ""But she must do something else around campus for her to be with him, right?" Jenny continued her interrogations. "The only place other than her lectures that people see her at are Donaldson's games. She just does those two things that includes school life. People have said and know that she doesn't even have a major yet. She just does classes until she finally finds something that makes her spark. It's pathetic really." Luna said and chuckled with her friend who fired back : "Why would he want to be with her? If I were Art Donaldson-" And you never heard the last of her life hacks, because your ears decided you had been tortured enough as it was. The notes you had started taking were the only ones you took for the rest of the 3 hour lecture. Well, what was one more exam failed?

You would stay in this godforsaken place until you found a stupid major to work in life with.... Why bother studying right now? Your parents paid for your acceptance at Stanford. Your life was as corrupted as that.

"What do you mean Y/n/n?" Art asked with a concerned look and rubbed his tumb over your jaw. "I don't know what I mean by that. But that's also a problem, I never know..." you tried to explain but it was still unclear to him. He only wanted to comfort you and make you feel at ease at all times, but right now he couldn't understand you. That made him mad at himself. "I don't know what I am going to major in, I don't know why I went to college in the first place and I don't know what you find in me. Before you start to argue that point, I have to tell you that I don't doubt your love, I doubt my ability of being loved right now. I am a mess Art... I can't do it anymore! The only thing I do know, is that I'm going to end up like I always feared..." You continued to elaborate on your feelings while he was listening. "Baby... I love you for who you are. I'm sure what you feared for your future isn't even that bad-" you cut him off on that and laughed while letting some tears flow. "Oh yeah, it is. I will end up as every other rich kid who doesn't amount to nothing and will live off my family's money for my whole life." You said and removed his hand from your face. You didn't feel deserving of his touch right now. "Stop." He said sternly. How could he have left this go this far? How couldn't he have seen you were feeling like this? How bad of a boyfriend was he? "Y/n, you are not messed up. You are beautiful and intelligent and you are worth more than your family's wealth. You are important. Not only to me but to a lot of people. Listen, college isn't for everyone, baby. I know it 's easier listening than believing, but please don't pull away from me." He had tears brimming his eyes now.

What did you do to deserve him?

"I love you, Art. I'm sorry for upsetting you..." You explained and held his hand that had been squeezing the edge of the table. "Don't, baby. You do not have to appologize. I should appologize for not seeing how you had been feeling. Please... talk to me about these things. I want to be there for you like you are for me." He took your hand back in his to play with it lightly. "Okay." You said and smiled softly at him. "Okay?" He asked smiling softly too while looking into your eyes. "Yeah. I'll talk to you more about my feelings, baby." You nodded and affirmed.

As you both walked to your last class of the day that you shared, the girls of your history of the arts lecture passed you. They were looking at you and art with sadness. It was then you realized what they had been doing. Only wallowing in their jealousy because:

Art had chose you. Not them.

His heart was set on you and that made them mad. Some part of you felt like you could see them. Maybe you were loved by someone like they wanted to be, but you were also envious of how these girls would be graduating in Teaching in less than two months likw you wanted to be graduating.

Everybody was jealous of somebody in this world.

"Art?" You asked while going closer to his side. "Hmm?" He had answered when wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in even closer. "I think I'm jealous of you." You confirmed while giggling. "Oh yeah? How come, y/n?" He smiled at your randomness. "You have a massive dick. I want that." You said in the most serious tone you could master in that instance. Art burst out laughing and admitted that he was jealous of you too. "How come, Art?" You copied his sentence. "Imagine being as pretty as the one and only Y/n Y/l/n under sun rays. I'll pray for that to happen one day." You looked up into his eyes and stopped walking for a second. You smiled at him and went up to kiss him on his lips. The kiss was slow and full of love, just how you prefered then to be.

"I love you, baby. Even if you are a spoiled little brat sometimes." He said and tried to cover his head before you shoved his head to the side playfully.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #challengers #art donaldson x you #art x reader #art x you #art #challengers x reader #challengers x you #challengers movie

432 notes · View notes

catscidr · 11 months ago

Note

Dr ratio and student (adult) reader who tried really hard to study but she is kinda failing? 😭 I once had strict teacher like ratio and he was softer to me, so Idk if ratio would be the same or even more mean

this is a little different from what you asked. BUT. i Do think that he wouldn't be mean n would help u study because it means you're trying to not be an idiot and his whole shtick is trying to make people less dumb. ykwim. i might've projected a littol bit... times r tough what can i say <(ㅍ _ㅍ)> cw: blurb/headcanon format (?), hurt/comfort technically because ratio is a little mean. it's not that bad tho trust, university setting includes: gn!student!reader, professor!veritas ratio, can be read as either platonic or romantic (or favoritism lmao) wc: 1k

-ˋˏ I think he would be pretty frustrated at first. How come all your studying did little to nothing to change your less-than-ideal grades? Especially when he’s the one teaching you, at this point it’s an insult to him and his teaching skills!

-ˋˏ ...but when you showed up to his office with your lips curled down in deep a frown, downturned brows and meek eyes that refused to meet his gaze for more than three seconds and reflected just how embarrassed (and almost ashamed) you were, he could only sigh and wave his hand to gesture for you to come in.

-ˋˏ You took out your textbook, your notes and the study guide he had made specifically for the final exam. They felt heavier in your hands than they usually do, since now he could very well take a single look at your messy, scribbled notes and turn you away for “wasting his time” like you’ve seen him do with other struggling students. You couldn’t afford failing this exam though, so you place down your things on his (now cleared) desk and sit at the edge of the chair he had across of him, silently praying to whatever god to grant you some mercy.

-ˋˏ His first reaction was... not good, for lack of better words. Your notes were a mess and there were splotches of black all over about five pages— the result of an unfortunate accident where your pen exploded in your hands during an all-nighter. He was tempted to turn you away or to, at the very least, scold you for being so disorganized, but he wouldn’t be the infamous Doctor Veritas Ratio if he did. One look at you and he could tell that you hadn’t slept properly in God-knows how long, that you hadn’t eaten a proper meal in just as long, and that you had the drive to study, but for a reason unknown to you, simply couldn’t. Or, at least not in a way that made you retain the information you tried to hammer into your brain.

-ˋˏ You'd sit there; hands folded in your lap, eyes refusing to meet his, silently waiting for him to say something, anything lest you implode on the spot. Ratio would gloss over your notes, eyes lingering on the little doodles of yourself you drew in the margins of the page with a little speech bubble saying ‘help’ right above it, and would hold in a sigh. Crossing his arms over his chest he would lean back in his chair and tilt his head, burning holes in your skull until you lifted your head up. He wouldn’t say a word, he’d be as patient as he needed to be, waiting.

-ˋˏ When you finally looked over at him you swore you felt your heart drop to your ass (how long had he been staring?) as you forced yourself to not grab your stuff and dip. “Um-” you started speaking but he promptly shut you up by interrupting you with a question of his own; “Do you honestly think you can study adequately in such conditions?”

-ˋˏ (Of course he’d notice, you scold yourself internally. There’s no way to successfully hide the dark circles under my eyes.)

-ˋˏ You’re taking way too long to answer, too absorbed into your head to speak, and it’s starting to get under his skin. His frown seems embedded onto his face, the absence of his plaster head making you quiver in fear from the sheer amount of frustration he must feel because of you. Unfortunately, you’re nowhere near as observant as he is— because if you were, you would have noticed that his frustration wasn’t aimed at you, but at himself. How did he let it get this bad? He’s supposed to be a teacher, and teachers are supposed to care for their pupils

-ˋˏ (It might seem like he couldn’t give two shits about his students, but he does care— in his own harsh way. He considers kicking people out of his class a blessing; if he didn’t care about their wellbeing, he would have let them stay and feel stupid as well as let them be completely overwhelmed as a result of not understanding the content of his lessons and the workload he assigns. Of course, he doesn’t want people to drop his class, but if that’s what it takes for people to not go insane then so be it. He’s made peace with it.)

-ˋˏ “When was the last time you were able to sleep for longer than eight hours consecutively?” he asks, intense gaze unfaltering as your eyes dart all over his office in a poor attempt at avoiding the inevitable. Finally, you look at him sheepishly, and mumble a number that was far from satisfactory in his books. He clicks his tongue and unfurls his arms, grabbing your books strewn across his desk and shuts them, sliding them over towards you. You sit, puzzled and flustered that you’ve gone all this way just for him to kick you out. If he was going to be an ass, he should have just dismissed you as soon as—

-ˋˏ “Your assignment is to get a good night’s rest. Do not come into my classroom if you haven’t slept for 8 hours minimum. If I see you work dark circles as prominent as the ones you have right now, I’ll drag you to the nearest bed or couch myself.”

...Can’t say you expected that kind of response.

-ˋˏ You can’t even get a word in before he beats you to it, already knowing what you were about to say. “I’ll let you retake the exam if I deem your health to be unacceptable when you arrive in the lecture hall for the exam.” You shut your mouth, unsure of what to even say in response. You really felt like you were being scolded.

-ˋˏ He would gladly help you study when you come back looking (and feeling) refreshed, though. Not that he’d show it with his body language, but his actions said everything. He’d bring energy bars for you to snack on while he explained material you struggled with, would be patient when you’d ask seemingly dumb questions (one time you asked him why he hadn’t kicked you out of his class yet, and that was the first time he actually scolded you. Because that was the first dumb question you asked him).

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x y/n #dr ratio x you #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio x you

298 notes · View notes

elliereject · 9 months ago

Text

ifhy .1

* in which ellie’s obsession relationship with you begins to sour as your romance with your new boyfriend seems to flourish. it seems she’ll stop at nothing to ensure your happiness, (which you’ll find with her, obviously) even if it means hurting you in the process.

* lowkey obsessive ellie, (I LIKE EM’ A LITTLE CRAZY!), angst + comfort (next chapter(s), infidelity, unrequited feelings yet also mutual pining (just read it like, idk idk I forgot how to do these),lmk if I missed anything!

* im back, ok not really this has been rotting in my drafts forever and I was reading it back and I was like damn I lowk cooked with this. It’s unfinished as of RN but this is only 1/3 of the fic im just splitting it up so u don’t have to wait months,,for it..like my other fics..DONT ASK ME ABT THOSE, cuz I don’t got an answer. IN THE MEAN TIME ENJOY THIS! <3

* mdni (but like if u do wtvr, nothing crazy happens in this chapter)

wc ~ 1.6k

pt. 2 here

Ellie Williams fucking hated you.

Surprisingly, she didn’t at first. In fact, she was in love with you, bordering infatuation.

She had seen you for the first time at the local bookstore before the semester started, you were flipping through a book about time and relativity with a concentrated look on your face. She smiled to herself when she saw you push up onto your toes to reach for another book but to no avail. She took this as an opportunity to walk up to you and reach over your head to grab it, making sure to flex her lean, tattooed arm before placing it in your hand.

Her jade eyes locked on yours and your face heated immediately, you mumbled a “Thank you.” Before scurrying past her to the checkout.

Imagine her surprise when on the first day of classes, she walks into her astrophysics course and sees you, doodling in your notebook with that same concentrated look on your face.

Of course, she sits next to you, flashing that charming smile that has sweat gathering at your hands. She tells you her name then asks for yours and learns about your major, favourite course, and how you’re staying in a little apartment just outside the campus before more students and your professor filed in. You didn’t know why but you just felt so comfortable telling her things, She laughed at your corny jokes and made even cornier ones, and she admired the doodles that covered your notebook and the little duck pen you used.

You didn’t want to speak too soon, but it was safe to say you were harbouring a tiny bit of a crush on her.

Ellie on the other hand, was completely ready to admit it. She felt her love for you grow each second she was around you. Your smile quite literally felt like the sun shining upon her, your laugh made her want to drop her studies of space to pick up stand-up comedy just so she could make it her job to make you laugh. In her eyes, everything you did was perfect. Her thoughts were completely consumed by you, you, you.

And for a few months, things were amazing! You had been introduced to Dina and Jesse and even spent Halloween hanging out with the trio watching horror movies and eating each other's weight in candy. When the holidays rolled around you and Ellie, along with the others, cozied up under some blankets and made fun of cheesy Hallmark movies while she tried her hardest not to interlock her hands with yours even after your pinky brushed against hers for the sixth time.

During finals, Ellie and you organized designated study days that usually ended in giggling at stupid memes on each other's phones or late-night food runs. Of course, there were lingering touches and flirtatious glances here and there but you were too shy to act on it and Ellie would rather die than make you uncomfortable so she kept you just at arm's length. Besides, she knew you were too timid to approach anyone else, so in a way she had you all to herself.

Then, you met him. Some motherfucker whose name she didn’t care to remember. However, she did remember the innate feeling of anger that surged through her body when you gushed to her about him and how he was a history major and the way his glasses framed his face perfectly and whatever the fuck else you found interesting about him.

She nodded and laughed and smiled along with you when you would drone on about him but would excuse herself to the bathroom to tend to the crescent-shaped wounds in her palms from digging her fingers into them so hard.

She tried her best to not show these negative emotions to you because she knew how much you didn’t like when she got mad but fuck was it hard. Especially that one night when you were out with him and you hadn’t replied to her texts in over 5 hours. Man did her drywall take some damage that night.

And when you finally did reply you had completely disregarded her message and went on to boast about the time you had and how gentlemanly he was. All she could do was reply with a dry “sounds like fun🙂” before she went back to throwing a tantrum around her room and tormenting that poor wall…she’d have to remember to buy some spackle before the end of the semester.

Then, there was the time she trekked over to your apartment with some pizza for a surprise movie night and saw the bouquet placed in front of your door. She set the box down to pick up the flowers and read who it was from, her body reacted before she could rethink. She tore the flowers from the beautifully wrapped packaging and stomped on them over and over and over until all that was left were broken stems and tattered petals.

Thankfully, you got home just a few minutes later and missed her outburst. You gasped when you saw the smashed flowers and asked her what had happened, she shrugged and lied easily, claiming it was like this when she got there. She let out a breath when you shook your head and sighed, saying it was probably your next-door neighbor who had always been a bit of a grouch.

She had genuinely thought she was doing a pretty good job of hiding her true feelings for both you and him but it was when you gleefully announced that he was officially your boyfriend she knew she was done for. You squealed and pulled her in for a hug but it felt like her heart had shriveled up into a clump of black coal and woosh like magic, her love for you had turned into something twisted, something possessive.

It was when you invited her over to your apartment to eat dinner with him that she had started considering the idea that you knew she had a crush on you and you were just fucking with her emotions for fun.

How could you start dating, let alone seeing some random ass motherfucker when she was right here! She knew she could treat you better than he could even dream of, she knew everything about you and she’d make it known to you how perfect she was for you, one way or another.

That night at dinner she sat uncomfortably as you fluttered around your tiny kitchen, adding last-minute touches to the spaghetti you made and despite the grumble in her tummy it felt like she had no appetite when she watched the hungry way he looked at you, as if you were a juicy steak and he was a starved wolf.

Once you were finished plating the food and placing it on the table you sat down eagerly and tried your best to mediate the obvious tension.

“Soo uh, Ellie, you’ve been really into watercolour recently right?” You beamed.

“Uh-huh.” She said dryly, twirling her spaghetti around her fork.

“Oh that’s cool, you know watercolour as an art form has been around since Egyptian times! It’s funny to think that like—Cleopatra was painting with water and grapes or something!” He spoke and you giggled like it was the funniest joke in the world. She shot you a look that said really? because she knows she could make a joke that was way funnier, and would expel your real laugh.

“That’s cool. You know how to shut the fuck up?” She mumbled into her bite of spaghetti.

“Sorry?” He asked and you gave her a sideways glance.

She smiled tightly and swallowed before answering, “Just said that’s cool!”

Dinner dragged on as he droned about the history of the Renaissance or fucking Christopher Columbus, she didn’t actually know, she tuned him out. After you cleared the plates, you ushered them into your cozy living room for a movie and when you excused yourself to the bathroom she plopped down on the couch next to him, subtly pulling out her switchblade.

“So, Kevin—“

“Actually my name—“

“I don’t give a fuck what your name is, matter fact I don’t give a fuck about you in general. What are your intentions with ★?”

The man tensed up as Ellie expertly spun the blade around in her fingers.

“Uh—I mean, she seems cool and dating her has been pr—“

“Cool?” Ellie scoffed, “She’s fucking perfect, and I hope you know whatever you have going on with her right now? It won’t last. Soon she’s gonna see you for the limp-ass motherfucker you are.”

He was taken aback, “What?—I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you?”

“Your whole existence offends me.” She rasped, inching her blade closer to his neck. “She’s not meant to be with you.”

He furrowed his brows, “You like her, don’t you?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Before he could reply you were back from the bathroom and she slipped her blade back into her pocket and got up with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“What were you two talking about?” You asked as you grabbed a bag of chips from your small coffee table and tore into them.

“Oh you know, girl talk.” She smiled, digging her blunt nails into his shoulder. Translation: don’t say a fucking word.

You rolled your eyes playfully like you even had a clue of what was going on, “He’s not a girl, dumbass.”

She shrugged, stepping away from her previous seat to plop down on the other small sofa.

The rest of the night proceeded relatively smoothly, your boyfriend had been so shaken up by Ellie’s words that even with you sitting next to him he kept his distance with worried glances toward Ellie now and then. Ellie crunched on her popcorn happily and watched the movie with a satisfied smile and a chipper aura.

— ★

🤔 shall I put out the second part? only time (and interactivity! 💝 pls don’t let this flop) will tell!

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie angst #ellie au #ellie fic #ellie fluff #ellie smut #ellie x reader #jealousellie #tlou fanfiction #tlou

232 notes · View notes

xstarsmvxz · 2 years ago

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 ✩

pairings ➜ hobie brown x kind!reader

warnings ➜ fluff, opposites attract, pet names, gn!reader, uses of weed, not proofread! i don’t really know what else?

word count ➜ 1.5k

M speaks! ➜ if you see the name “Asher” mentioned, it’s because that’s my cats name and I love her sm, she’s also so tiny cause she’s still a kitten so keep that in mind <3

➜ When Hobie first met you he honestly thought you were annoying.

➜ Your bright, optimistic attitude really got to him for some reason he didn’t know the answer to.

➜ You were way too kind for your own good, you always have a big smile gracing your face and you were constantly offering help to anybody who seemed like they needed it, even if they were a complete stranger!

➜ However, that kindness and happiness is what drew him in.

➜ He vividly remembers the day he realised you weren’t as bad as he thought.

You and hobie sat on either side of a soft grey sofa, waiting for Miguel to come back from wherever he rushed off to. Gwen and Pavitr sat on the sofa across from you guys, having their own conversation. You awkwardly played with the tips of your beat-up red and white converse, waiting for the courage to strike up a conversation. You softly clear your throat, “sooo.. where do you think he’s gone?” You hesitantly ask hobie. He doesn’t even glance your way when he replies in his thick accent, “dunno.”

You stare as he flicks a black ink pen in circles with his fingers. “That’s pretty cool, how do you do that?” You lean a little closer to him, trying to get a better look at how he’s doing it. He stares at you for a second, wondering why you’re all so interested in what he’s doing now. He slowly scoots himself a bit closer to you, feeling the slightest bit of warmth radiating from your body is a new type of comfort to him. “Like this..” He places the pen in between your thumb and index finger before he begins to slowly guide your fingers step by step. Your a bit stiff at first but once you memorise the movements you try it on your own. You start off slow but once you gradually get faster you drop the pen onto the floor. Muttering a small “oops” you lean down to pick it up and try again. Hobie slightly smirks as he watches you begin to spin the pen again.

After about seventeen tries you finally got it, spinning the pen skilfully in your hand you look up. “Hobie, Hobie look! Im doing it, oh my gosh!” You begin to get over excited, causing you to drop the pen again. Hobie let’s out a small laugh, leaning down to grab it from the floor. “Good job.” He praises as he begins to spin the pen in his own hand. “Thank you, Hobie..” You go back to fiddling with the tips of your shoes until an idea pops into your mind. “Hey, wanna draw on my shoes, they’re already pretty much ruined so it wouldn’t really matter.” He stops spinning the pen, taking the lid off of it and nodding his head. “Sure, why not.” He begins to draw small doodles on your shoes, such as small webs, spiders and pretty patterns. How ironic. You think to yourself as he draws a web with a spider hanging from it on the white part of your shoe.

Hobie smiles as you let out a small laugh, wondering what’s going through your mind. He continues to draw on your shoe as he thinks to himself. Your really not as annoying as he thought you were, you’re actually quite humble and soft. He begins to think about the friendship that potentially just bloomed between the two of you.

➜ Now let’s skip to when the two of you started dating.

➜ At first you were both kind of awkward. The two of you had only been friends for a couple months before you found yourself kissing him in your bedroom.

➜ you guys didn’t really go on dates, instead the two of you would normally just spend time together in your bedroom, watching movies or just having conversations about whatever comes to mind.

➜ he doesn’t really like “couple” things, but that doesn’t stop him from getting you small gifts whenever he can.

➜ some days he comes knocking at your apartment door, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand.

➜ other days he will come to your house with smaller gifts like food or jewellery.

You sit on your bed, lying on your stomach with your feet in the air whilst you read a book that you borrowed from the library. Your cat sits next to you, purring in its sleep. Your head shoots up when you hear a loud knock coming from your apartment door. You place your book down next to your cat and walk out of your room, heading towards the door. Once you open the door, you come face to face with your boyfriend Hobie, who is holding a small bouquet of pretty flowers in his hand. You shyly smile, “Hi..” you greet. “Hey doll.” He extends his arm, placing the flowers into your ring adorned hand, all the rings he got you. “Hobie, they’re so pretty…” you stare at the flowers, touching one of the petals with your finger tips. “I love them! Thank you Hobes!” You give your boyfriend a bone crushing hug before running to your kitchen to fill a vase with water. You place the vase full of flowers in the middle of your small wooden circle table next to your couch.

You sit down with a sigh and beckon Hobie over. He sits next to you, placing his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side. Just on queue, your grey cat Asher walks in, her fluffy tail swishing it the air as she jumps onto the sofa in between you and Hobie. You let out an airy laugh as you pet your attention seeking cat. “Who’s a pretty girl?” You ask your cat as if she can understand you, scratching her chin as she lets out soft purrs. It’s not long before you fall asleep, leaving Hobie to pet the ball of fluff sitting in his lap.

➜ once you guys get more comfortable with each other, the two of you are never seen without the other.

➜ Gwen literally thinks that you guys are meant to be in one body.

“You guys are literally always together, we might as well morph you both into one body!” Gwen says as she stares at the both of you sitting on the soft chair across from her, you sit on Hobies lap bridal style, leaning your head onto his comfy chest while he strokes your upper arm.

➜ At this point you tell Gwen everything about yours and Hobies relationship.

➜ She absolutely freaked out when she found out he was your first everything.

➜ And when I say first everything, I really do mean everything.

➜ he was your first kiss, first boyfriend and first person you ever slept with.

➜ He was always so patient and gentle with you, never forcing you into anything you didn’t want to do.

➜ In his eyes, you were so fragile and innocent. He was almost afraid to break you.

➜ One day, you begged him to let you smoke weed on the roof with him.

➜ You even had to get on your knees and beg before he finally agreed.

You sat next to Hobie, wearing one of his black jackets as you watch him roll a joint for you to share, he brings the joint to his lips before inhaling then exhaling the smoke into the cold night. He passes the joint to you, asking if you watched how he did it. “Yeah, yeah I did..” He watches as you slowly bring the joint to your own lips, inhaling the smallest amount before exhaling with a small cough. He laughs as he watches your eyes water a bit before you pass the joint back to him. “Didn’t like it?” He questions, taking another hit. “It wasn’t that bad, I just need to get used to it.”

➜ After that night you regularly found yourself sitting on that same roof, either smoking a bong or joint. Unlike Hobie, you liked bongs more, finding them easier to use.

➜ Though, the first time you used Hobies newly bought bong you choked, you were already high before hand so you and Hobie found it absolutely hilarious.

➜ The both of you fell into a laughing fit, holding onto your stomachs from the pain caused by laughing so much.

You lied on your back, holding onto your aching stomach as you uncontrollably laughed. “Hobes, help.. it feels like I’m growing abs!” At this point, tears were coming from both of your guys eyes.

➜ I imagine that at first he wasn’t really big on pda, he still isn’t but now that you guys have known each other for longer he’s a little more comfortable with it.

➜ The most public affection your probably going to get is a small peck on your lips.

➜ But his favourite thing to do is hold your hand, it brings him comfort and happiness knowing that you’re right beside him.

➜ Nicknames that he gives you consist of; love, my love, sweet, sweet stuff, babe and his personal favourite, sunshine.

➜ Overall your relationship is perfect for the both of you, neither of you could possibly want anything more or less.

➜ You were both unconditionally in love and nothing could ever change that.

masterlist

🕷🕸

738 notes · View notes

windvexer · 5 months ago

Note

Hello,

In your "practice sorcery in a not soul-sucking way" post, you mention a beginner artist doodling a landscape then saying their art "doesn't work".

I was wondering if you have a spell for warding a space against unwanted attention/negative energies, which was the magical equivalent of "paint or scribble until the whole page is black"?

No particular skill necessary, just something blunt and brute-force which may take a lot of energy (SCRIBBLING AS GARD AS YOU CAN AAAA) but which would be cathartic? It's my first spell since.... Playing around initiating a wand with my friend when we were kids. Wow.

The thought of trying to learn correspondences or something is.... Exhausting-sounding. I just need a space that's mine. Maybe with a "keep this space calm and quiet" element thrown in.... And something with knot-tying that leaves me with a charm I can hang, maybe?

If this is too much/too specific, feel free to disregard (though I'd appreciate knowing you got the ask). Thank you so much for your time, and I hope things are going well for you. Also, your chicken-frying spirit-trappjng pot is gorgeous.

Good morning, or it will be in 20 minutes when midnight rolls over.

We are in reference to this post about practicing sorcery, and also this post about my pot of many uses.

Yes I imagine there is probably a short answer but you've given me the chance to talk about theory, so :)

Knot-tying magic is nice and easy, and I really think it doesn't require special skills beyond tying knots. I have this old post about making a simple hanging charm with macrame.

One thing that helps me with the idea of knot magic is that you're always going to be binding something.

You can go with the idea that you are binding up statements of intent which then become like the rungs on a ladder, allowing other energies and intents to climb up into reality.

But I imagine more commonly, you bind things up to trap them (and perhaps releasing them for use later).

This provides a decent idea for part B of your spell, "keep this space calm and quiet." A nice knot tied up by the door to capture disruptions and bind them up and make them inert might suffice.

As for your part A, warding against unwanted attentions and negative energies - you've got options.

And a good place to start is that you want a space that's yours.

I am a huge believer in the efficacy of spiritual authority. Crudely put, there is actual magical power in saying, "this is my space. I own it. Only things I invite inside are allowed."

I don't mean that it's personally powerful, or therapeutic, although it may be those things. I mean that I believe it literally changes something in the record books of the Otherworlds.

Of course it immediately gets more complicated, especially in cases of territory disputes, but by and large a powerful first step for making a space feel safe, comfortable, and barred from unwanted attention and negative energies,

is to magically announce that the space is yours, you are its keeper, and from that point on you call the shots.

Perhaps best of all, doing so requires no correspondences. Just go around and start telling the world how it's going to be. Start with the doorway, and pay due respects to windows and vents. Not because they're vectors of negative energy contamination, but because thresholds are their own species of Creature and know a little bit more than some of the baser household construction.

Put on some music or whatever to get yourself in the state of mind to take it all seriously, and then go to the main entrance and say, "hello; let me introduce myself formally." (And then introduce yourself). "I'd like to let you know I'm going to be responsible for this space from now on. I'm the keeper of this room, and it's on me to decide what comes and goes - not other people in the household."

And then go about to all the various things in the room (for some reason I guess I decided this is for your bedroom) and let them all know that this is your space and you're taking the reins. "Rug by the door, I love the pattern you've got going on. Just to let you know-"

Draw a finger over the wall. That's your wall; the space within it is your space. Touch the window frame and the door frame; they frame only what you allow to pass through, and nothing else. Touch your old things and dig deep through layers of the past: speak the new truth to stacks of things that have been peacefully slumbering for years.

Just go around and have a nice time with it, and in general claim your space. That will set you up pretty well for whatever kind of work you'd like to do next.

The reason I recommend all these big paragraphs of things is because I think it fits the bill of what you're looking for, re. not requiring extra skills.

But then once you've got the room on board and you're set up as the new captain, you might well like to ask the door to keep out intruders. And you should; let the door know your vision of the room moving forward is that nobody but you tries to come into it.

And while you're at it, you might as well give your door a garotte to strangle anyone who tries to come in.

Or.... strangle the energy of intrusiveness in general, you know.

With the knot spell that we were talking about earlier!

If you prepare something nice and simple, like a macrame crystal net, or even a simple overhand knot in some cord, position this by the entryway so that the charm works in tandem with the door (who, remember, is now on your side but could possibly do with reinforcements).

(By the way, a decent way to 'cast' a knot spell is to take some cord and prepare a loose knot and wait for the irritating thing to happen; at the moment it happens, quickly yank the knot closed, and tell the cord, "see? That's exactly the thing I'm talking about, I've just given you an example to work from. You go ahead and bind up the rest now, just like that." Give the cord another knot that's not completely tightened, to let it do the rest itself.)

Besides getting the doors and windows on your side, and tying up intruders, I think you may especially enjoy a nice dish of salt. That link is to @aesethewitch who made a lovely writeup on the idea of ambient spells, and I think this may be just your thing.

I think technically it could be a nice dish of anything, but I think salt probably fits the bill. It's very cheap if you need to buy any, but more importantly, it's got an excellent "filtration" effect that helps to keep a space free of bad vibes.

As far as the political landscape of the room, such a dish of salt could hypothetically be placed anywhere, unlike the sneaky cord of binding, which probably ought to be right next to the door so it can pounce at first sight of an interloper.

#answered

69 notes · View notes

swee7dream · 6 months ago

Note

how would the dreamies react to their s/o regressing for the first time in front of them after being super stressed and not being able to be a little ? ^^

it’s been a long time caregiver!nct dream x gender-neutral!regressor!reader

genres sfw age regression content, established relationship, hurt / comfort, angst in some, bits of fluff in all warnings involuntary / vent regression, regression block, negative self-talk, haechan's is long sry dni if you sexualize age regression. not only blocking but also reporting.

author’s note i'm SO sorry this took so long for me to get out. i promise i didn't forget about you, nonnie! i might've geared a little bit ( a lot ) off the prompt at times but i still hope you like it ! thx 4 requesting !

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ) wc 642

With all your responsibilities lately, Mark finds it logical that you don’t regress as often as you used to. The last time he remembers was over three months ago. He misses taking care of you, hearing your sweet voice call out for your 'Mack!'. But he doesn’t want to burden you even more with any expectations to do anything you weren’t feeling up to do. He wasn’t planning to bring it up. Honest.

That was until you started coming home to avoid his kisses and go straight to bed. That moment left a pang in his heart.

In the silence and tension of your apartment, Mark finds himself in your little corner of tiny things, picking up your toys and dusting off your coloring books with longing. He misses his baby, so he’s going to get his baby back, he decides, no matter what it takes.

“Oh look, that new Disney movie came out you said you wanted to go see it, right?”

“I’m tired, Mark.”

“…okay.” He bites the inside of his cheek.

Just keep trying, Mark. You got this.

“Babe, I’m doing laundry. You want me to wash Cheese Doodle?” He knocks at your office door.

“Huh?” You raise your head as if you were a fish out of water. “Uh, yeah. That’s fine. Thank you.”

Hmph.

“What is that?” You give the box in Mark’s hand a look.

“It’s a game. Picked it up at the store. It’s like… Twister? But there’s something different about it. I dunno, I didn’t pay attention to the label and just bought it. Chenle asked that we bring some kind of board game for his party on Saturday.”

“Oh. Well, I have a thing on Saturday so tell him I can’t go but I hope everyone has fun.”

As the saying goes, the fourth time’s a charm.

“You’re not going to bed?” You rub your eyes, already in your night clothes and under the sheets.

“Not really tired,” he replies with a shrug as he makes his way out into the kitchen. “I think I’m gonna make myself some angel milk to get the sleeping juices going. That always worked for you. You want some?”

You’re already pretty tired, the events of the day had sucked every last drop of potential energy from you. Still, some angel milk in all its sweet, vanilla-tasting glory makes you lick your lips.

“…yeah. Please,” you answer.

When he comes back from the kitchen, he has your warm drink in one hand and Cheese Doodle—your orange puppy stuffie—in the other.

“Sit up for me, baby,” he says softly as he sits down on the edge of the bed, not wanting to spill anything from your favorite mug.

“Unicorn…!” You notice, taking the pink and rainbow cup in your two sleeve-clad hands. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” Mark smiles. “and I just took cheese doodle out of the laundry too. Used the fabric softener that you like. Wanna feel?”

“Oh.” In a second, you’re like a cat rubbing your cheek against Cheese Doodle’s fur. “Smells good, Markie. Thank you.”

”Of course, baby. Feeling tiny?” He asks only now that he’s 95% sure you are.

”Little bit,” you admit into your mug, slurping quietly to not burn yourself.

”Aw.” He pouts. “That’s good. You know, Markie missed you, baby. I haven’t held my baby in such a long time.”

”Missed Markie too.” You blink at him with sleepy eyes and a milk mustache. “Lot.”

”Wanna cuddle for a little then?”

”Just for a lil' bit.” You nod, placing your angel milk on the bedside table.

Mark knows the mug will be forgotten by the morning but he'd rather make and waste a million angel milks than for you to forget him and Cheese Doodle again.

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა wc 594

“Oh that’s a nice painting, Jun,” you praise, resting your chin on his shoulder as he sits on a stool. “Very pretty.”

“I feel like it’s missing something, though,” he says with a frown. “Here. You paint something.”

“On your canvas?” You look at him. “No way, love. I’ll ruin it.”

“You won’t. Now take the brush.”

“I won’t.” You step back and cross your arms. “I’m not gonna mess up this painting you’ve been working so hard on with my clumsiness.”

“What are you talking about? You always add something to my paintings.” Renjun gives you a look. The look that makes you want to roll your eyes.

“And they’re always so much better before me.”

“You don’t think that.”

“I do.”

“Why are you talking about yourself in this way all of a sudden?”

“Because it’s true!” You explode. There’s a burning in the backs of your eyes as you keep talking. “All I’ve been doing lately is messing up stuff for other people. I’m no good, Renjun.”

“…”

“My boss thinks it, my team members think it. I know you think it too!” You sob.

“Darling-”

“Stop it, Jun.”

“Darling,” he repeats, taking your hand in his. “come here.”

He pulls you in with one hand and wipes your tears with another, so careful he almost makes you think you are glass.

“What’s in that green binder in the bookshelf over there?” he asks.

“What?” You furrow your brows. “I don’t know.”

“Go check.”

You give him a look but make your way to the oak bookshelf; filled with sketchbooks, novels, and a singular green binder. You look at Renjun when your fingers touch the spine and take it out only after he nods. Your knees wobble as you flip through the pages so you let your bottom hit the floor.

In the binder are the handwritten notes from back before the two of you even started dating; flirtatious exchanges recorded on coffee shop napkins, gum wrappers, and ripped-up bits of college notes. The next stage of your relationship is at the flip of a page; rushed post-it notes of domestic living with 'I love you!'s and 'Don't forget to eat!'s kept safe in the plastic sheets.

You look up at him with surprise but he only nods his head for you to keep flipping pages. You flip through empty slips until you almost reach the back cover and find all the drawings you’ve made for Renjun over the years while in regression. Each and every one. Even the ones where you're mad at him and have him eaten by monsters.

“You kept them…” You pass a finger over a drawing you made of the two of you, your stickmen-selves holding hands and smiling in a rocket ship.

“Of course I did, baby. How could I throw away something so perfect?” You hear his voice next to you, having gotten up from his seat to crouch next to you on the floor. He gently pulls your head into his chest and his lips drop to kiss the top of your head. “I don’t think you mess up things, my love. Ever. You simply change their direction. My Lovebug is the most creative, innovative person in the whole wide world, didn’t you know?”

“Junnie…” You sob, the dam of pent-up emotions finally seeking release.

“Hi there, babybug.” He whispers. “I’m right here, lovey. Right here. Let it all out.”

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა wc 655

“Babe, the ice is melting and your coke is turning into gross, brown, sweet-tasting water,” Jeno warns.

“One second, baby. I just need to finish this assignment real quick,” you mutter with your bottom lip bit in place.

It seems you’re still in the same clothes from three days ago, the same amount of time Jeno’s seen you stay in bed studying. He’s beginning to think your butt might be attached permanently to the mattress at this point. When it comes to your bedside table, your 5-hour energy from lunchtime being the latest addition to the food trash and empty water bottle pile doesn’t fill him with any more positive thoughts.

“When’s it for?” He sighs. “Your assignment.”

“…what?” You turn your head to him but your eyes stay on the screen. “Oh, um, Friday.”

“It’s Monday. Come on.” Jeno pulls at your arm like a spoiled child. “I’m not even making you shower or anything. I just wanna hang out with my hermit, stinky, computer nerd. Will you grant me my wish please?”

You look up with a half-offended, half-amused expression and your jaw dropped.

“I’m not stinky!” You fail to shake off your arm from his hold. “I told you I’m coming! I just really need to finish this.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Ye- ah!” You squeal as Jeno pulls at your arm, throwing you over his shoulder. “Jeno! I’m serious!”

“I’m serious too. Monday to Friday is five days-”

“Four days!”

“-and that’s more than enough time to finish your assignment.” He refuses to acknowledge your interruption. “You are going to eat a proper dinner with me on the couch as we watch TV and you’re gonna like it, you got that?”

“Augh…!” You groan, going limp on him.

“Oh, I know.” Jeno pouts as he sets you on the couch, covering you in your train-print fleece blanket. “I’m so mean, aren’t I? Asking you to take a break when all you wanna do is work, work, work.”

You just stare at him, squinting your eyes as you fail to hide a smile.

“Well unfortunately for you, gumdrop, babies don’t work! So I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. The police will come after me if I do. Child labor laws or something like that.”

He leaves a quick kiss on your forehead right before speeding to the kitchen. Jeno’s eyebrows wiggle in a wave when he returns with your food; apple slices, chicken nuggets, and fries all in their respective spots in your divided plate.

The original pasta and movie date night plan being scrapped for a Nono-Gumdrop night doesn’t phase Jeno. In fact, it excites him. Your projects and exams and assignments and professors... he tries so hard not to hold resentment against them all as they pull his baby away from him. But tonight? Tonight is different, and for once in his life, caregiver Jeno is triumphant.

“Thank you…” Your fingers wrap around the blue silicone and Jeno engulfs you in a bear hug when he sits down. Tight but not so tight it obstructs your arms when eating. “What are we watching, Nono?”

“Max and Ruby.” He smiles when you gasp.

“Love Max and Ruby!” You gush with a mouthful of apples.

“Do you?” Jeno drops his head to the side. “You do? You do? Nuh-uh. I do. It’s my favorite show in the whole wide world.”

“Well, ’s my favorite show in the whole galaxy!”

“Yeah? Well-”

You squeal, feeling ticklish when he nuzzles his stubble on your face.

“Nono, stop!” You giggle.

“Eat up, gumdrop.” He sighs, the feeling of his baby in his arms and eating a proper meal for the first time in days is an incomparable joy. “Two episodes and then it’s bathtime.”

“Ah, boo, Nono!” you whine but it turns back to giggles when he compresses you in his arms.

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ wc 994

“You there, Angel?”

You shake your head.

It feels strange, like your body isn’t yours, as you hold on tight to your dolls in your hands and see none of the lively sparkle in their eyes you usually do when you’re small.

“I’m broken, Hyuck,” you say with such a lack of emotions that you can’t tell if it’s actually you who is speaking. “I did everything right. I got dressed, I put on the music box, I’m trying to play for God’s sake. And nothing is working still. I feel ridiculous. A grown adult trying to act like a child.” You scoff.

“Hey, stop.” Donghyuck’s firm tone sends a shiver down your spine and you pull away. His shoulders drop when he notices; you’re scared and he’s only making it worse.

“That’s my baby you’re talking about, you know?” He tries again, with a softer tone this time. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are not broken.” He holds your cheek.

“I’m just so tired, Hyuck.” Tears come up and blur your vision. “Everything has been going on for so long at the exact same time and I just- I can’t anymore. I need to just step away from reality for a little bit but I can’t even do that. My brain is just locking me in here in this state of suffering for who knows how long and I have no way of getting out. Not even for an hour.” You sob.

“I know, lovely.” He wraps his arms around you, letting you in turn wrap your arms around his legs from your seat on the floor. “It’s been so much for so long. You deserve a little break. Take a deep breath. Let’s try to let go of all these grownup worries, okay? We can pick them back up later. Come on, Angel, breathe.”

Angel.

Channie called you Angel and you still don’t feel small. The realization makes for more tears to come up but you refuse to let another defeated cry leave you. The denim of his jeans is rough on your face but not rough enough to make you stop using it as a tissue for your tears.

“…okay,” you creak out. “Breathe in. Breathing in…”

“There we go.” Haechan passes a hand over your head, the sensation soothing you somewhat. “And out. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Good job, Angel. Nice long deep breaths.”

You repeat the action several times, following his counts and pushing yourself to feel his jeans under your fingertips and smell the woodsy notes of his cologne to ground yourself.

“Everything sucks,” you say after some moments of silence. “Everything sucks. I didn’t even ask for any of this. I just want to be small,” your voice breaks.

“And you will be.” Donghyuck’s touch is gentle, encouraging you without words to look up at him. The pad of his thumb is warm when it wipes the tears from your face, brushing against your damp lashes. “You will be. I promise.”

“I don’t know what to do, Hyuck. I’m all out of ideas at this point,” you admit.

“How about just trying to feel not sucky?” He scrunches his nose, the most tender of smiles painted on his face. “How about… just drawing a picture? Just one. Doesn’t have to be with crayon or marker like when you’re feeling tiny. It can be whatever you want it to be. Don’t think about being small, just about drawing.”

“…draw what?”

“Hm… what about your dolls?”

When you unwrap yourself from his legs to look at said dolls, it gives Donghyuck the chance to go grab your art supplies. Your dolls don’t have that lively aura you see them with when you’re small but you can almost feel a sort of pity and empathy from them. It reminds you of the type of support your friends give you in their messages despite the country lines separating you.

“And I’ll draw… a car. Jeno’s been getting me into Formula One.” Donghyuck pulls you out of your thoughts when his voice is so close it makes you turn to see he’s taken a seat next to you on the floor. He opens a pencil case right in front of you two and takes a black pencil for himself to begin sketching on some paper.

“Really?” You opt a red pencil.

“Yeah. It’s pretty interesting.” He shrugs.

“But ’s so boring.” You sniffle up some snot from your lightning-fast crying session. You didn’t even cry for that long, how come you can feel your eyes swelling? So annoying. “They just go around in circles.”

“It’s not just that though. There’s—pass me the red? Oh, you have it. No, it’s okay. I can wait—there’s like a ton of beef between them. I like watching the interviews and stuff. It’s like watching basketball or football.” Haechan lets out a groan as he lays on his stomach, resting a cheek on his fist. “That’s really pretty, baby.”

“Y’like it?” You move to mirror him, turning your drawing for him to see better. “Think I’m gonna add some other stuff too.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet,” you admit. “Probably you. I always like drawing you. And then… your red car. You can take me and the dollies on a road trip. I like it when we have fun together.”

Affection floods out of Donghyuck, letting out an adoring ‘aw’ as he hugs you, leaving kisses on all the spots he knows won’t lead to a tickle fight.

“So cute! I always have fun with you. My Angel...” he hums into your temple.

“My Channie…” you mutter under your breath, sketching his head four times bigger than the rest.

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ wc 664

“I’m okay.” You rub your nose. “Just a couple sneezes, Jaem. It’s not a big deal. I can keep studying for a little while longer.”

“You sneezed four times in a row.” Jaemin stands next to your desk chair with his arms crossed. “Do you know what that means?”

“What?” You sigh, knowing he won’t leave until you entertain him.

“You have the plague.”

“The what?”

“The plague.”

“Baby, I don’t have the-” Achoo! “the-” Achoo! “the plague…”

You move your mouse around your screen and click away at it but it doesn’t hide the reflection of Jaemin’s intense stare into your skull. He’s not amused. You spin your chair around.

“I don’t have the plague,” you repeat with a clogged nose, not even convincing yourself this time. “…I just have a little cold.”

“I wonder where you could have gotten that from, hm?” He turns you toward him by the chair’s arms and traps you by holding onto both of them and leaning in until your foreheads almost touch. “Maybe from studying a little too much? From stretching yourself too thin? Pushing yourself past your limits? Hm? Hm? hm?” He turns his head at an angle with each question, being obnoxious about his accurate statements.

“Five minutes.”

“No.”

“I just need to email this professor.”

“No.”

“I have a group project.”

“Good thing you have groupmates, huh? Come on, get off your pretty little butt.” He grabs you from under the armpits, placing your feet on the ground as if you were merely a bag of rice. “We’re playing hospital.”

“No…” you whine with dragging feet the whole time Jaemin guides you to the kitchen, his gentlemanly hand giving you no chance to run as it rests on the small of your back.

“Yes…” He pouts at you as he fills up the syringe with orange medicinal syrup. “Babies need be good and take their medicine when they are sick, okay?”

“Jaemin-” You pull your head the other way, holding his wrist away from you.

“Baby…” he sings, dodging your attempts. “Say ‘ah’, pumpkin.”

Pressing your lips tight doesn’t do anything, the plastic tip of the syringe still slipping in and filling your mouth with bitter medicine that makes a lame attempt at orange flavoring. You shake your head, still rejecting the cold syrup as it goes down, but it does regardless, chilling your throat when it does.

“Bleh!”

“Drink some water, baby.” Jaemin holds up a cup (when did he fill that up?) and you take it as if it were the key to eternal life.

“Taste so icky,” you say with your face scrunched up like a raisin. “Hate it!”

You’re sick and suffering from forced consumption of medicine. Jaemin knows this. Jaemin shouldn’t smile. But he just can’t help it! His baby is finally back after such a long, long time. he thought he was gonna die from BWS (Baby Withdrawal Symptoms).

“Aw…” His hands reach out to hold your face and squish your cheeks together. “Baby doesn’t like medicine? Babies don’t like yucky bitter things. Babies like… sweet yummy things! How about some hot chocolate, lovey-dovey?”

“Chocwate?” you ask with raised eyebrows.

“Hot chocwate.” His nose scrunches as he pinches your cheeks. “Does that sound good?”

“Yeah!” You hop free of his crab claws. “Hot chocolate! Wanna, wanna, wanna!”

“Be careful, sugarplum!” Jaemin laughs, twirling you with such ease it feels as if you were in a dance. “Why don’t you go put something on the TV while I make us the chocolate? Whatever you want, baby,” he says, but you’re already out of the kitchen and looking under blankets and cushions for the remote.

“Spongebob!” You hold it up to the ceiling like it were the sword in the stone.

“Except Spongebob. You know that shrinks your brain.”

“Aw!” You slump but quickly straighten up like a ruler. “Ah- Ah- Achoo!”

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ) wc 622

“I’m so proud of you.” Chenle pecks your head as you hold his waist from behind. The smells coming from the stove you two stand in front of are nothing if not heavenly. “Pretty, funny, kind, graduated. How’d I bag you?”

“Mmm, I dunno.” You shrug smugly, as you look out the window. A content sigh leaves you as your eyes follow the raindrops that slide down your window. “Must’ve done something good in your past life.”

“Must have,” he hums. “Set the table for me? I’m basically almost done.”

“You got it.” You peck his cheek. “Smells delicious. Jaemin give you cooking lessons while I was gone?”

“I’ll have you know I’m a great cook. I don’t need any cooking lessons. Never have.”

“Ah…” You roll out the placemats with a sarcastic nod.

“But if I did, I would go to Donghyuck.”

“If you did, I would approve. His soups are good.”

“Mine are better.”

“…”

“Right?”

“Sure.”

The music playing from the speakers and lights in the apartment all shut off at once, not even the hum of the refrigerator sounding in the silence, the darkness. The thunder is so close it feels like footsteps. Heavy, angry footsteps coming close. Closer and closer to you.

The power comes back as soon as it left but you can’t seem to recover as fast. You don’t even remember dropping down to hold your knees, and in the dark you didn’t see how many tears came up to overflow from your eyes. Chenle calls out your name but it sounds so distant it doesn’t even register. It feels like you’re running out of oxygen like a deep sea diver falling hopelessly down to the ocean floor.

“Hey,” you take a sharp inhale at Chenle’s warm hands holding your cheeks ground you back to reality. “Hey, the power went out. Everything’s fine. You’re okay. You’re home, you’re with me. Nothing is gonna hurt you here, you hear me? You are safe.”

You almost knock Chenle over from his crouching position when you throw yourself on him, but he reads your body language just in time to catch you. His lips press into your hair, your temples, your shoulders, the softest of touches as you wail into his shirt. His heart breaks at how fragile you seem in the moment, like a porcelain doll with a chip. You sob and babble to the point that Chenle can’t understand what you’re saying. All he can catch is one word.

“Daddy…”

There’s nothing for you to do but cry, Chenle’s learned with time, so he lets you do just that. He lets you cry in his arms there on the floor and when you’re finally willing he attaches you to his hip as he walks around. He wipes your tears with a paper towel and makes sure you get a bottle of water to drink from to rehydrate.

His eyebrows furrow when you turn your head to dodge his spoon, rejecting the meal you were so looking forward to less than twenty minutes ago. This meal which was meant to be a celebration of not just the end of your education but of all your life up to this point. Of your growth, your endurance; of all the stress you put yourself through to come out victorious in the end.

You’re still victorious, he thinks. Even now as you fill up the apartment with tears, he’s so proud of you. His partner, his baby, the strongest person he’s ever met.

“Come on, dollface. Just one spoonful, yeah? Need you to eat,” he tries again.

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩) wc 668

“What’s that giant box?”

“What giant box?” He looks at you on the couch. “...I thought you were napping.”

“I woke up. What’s with that giant box you’re pushing into our house?”

“Oh, this?” Jisung looks down. “It's… a box.”

You blink, irritation in your tight-lipped smile at your boyfriend’s lack of cooperation.

“I know it’s a box, Ji. I'm asking what’s inside the box?”

“Box… stuff…”

“Jisung!”

“That’s not my name!” He whines as he shuts the front door. “My name to you is Ji! Or Baby! Not Jisung! It’s so scary when you call me that...” He sighs. “It was supposed to come before you started your vacation time, while you were at work.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows come together into a questioning frown.

“Because- just- you’ll see soon. Pass me the scissors? Thanks.” He pecks your lips, taking the scissors from your hands and pushing your back away with little force. “Now go. Get! Your surprise will be ready in a minute. Go… brush your dolls’ hair or something. It’ll be super quick.”

“Doll hairs? is it a Little gift?”

“Shoot.” Jisung bites his fist. “...can you just go in the bedroom already? It’s not a Little gift. It’s not.”

The instructions that came in the box of the not-Little gift said construction would only take thirty minutes. Not to fear, with super handyman Park Jisung to the rescue it only took three hours and two people.

“We’re done!” You clap, looking in awe at your brand new play kitchen, pink and wooden and creaky and yours. “Jiji, finish!”

“Yeah.” He sits back on the floor, wiping the sweat from his brow. “We’re finished. D’you like it?”

“It’s so pretty, jiji!” You beam, hugging his head and squeezing the brains out of him.

“I’m glad you like it, bub.” He nods at his work in approval. “You deserve it. Worked so hard recently.”

“Thankie!” You get up quickly, running barefoot into the bedroom to come back with a box of play food in all colors and sizes.

“Make you a lenonade, bubby!” You begin adding ice to a cup and add a lemon to it. “Ice cold lenonade.”

“Oh, I love your lenonade. Thanks, baby.” He takes the cup, making gulping noises and finishing it off with a loud and satisfied ‘ah!’. “Actually, are we playing restaurant right now?”

“Um… yeah!” you decide. “Welcome to my rest’rant! What would you like to order?”

“I would kill for a good burger.” Jisung pats his stomach like a starved man. “I hear you guys have some good ones, is that true?”

“The truest!” You smile. “One burger, comin’ up!”

You turn back to your kitchen and hum to yourself as you place a burger patty on the stove.

“No pans for that?”

“No pans!” You shake your head. “Special burger.”

“Ah, must be.” He mutters behind you.

When it comes to building time, Jisung acts like a to-be-blacklisted customer.

“Could I have no onions in my burger? I’m allergic.”

“No, you’re not.”

“It’s just play pretend, honey.”

“Oh. Then, yes you can, sir! No onions.”

“And no tomatoes please. I don’t like how the seeds get stuck between my teeth.”

“No tomatoes!”

“And could you cut the cheese? It kind of sends me to the bathroom.”

“Ew… okay, no cheese, either!” You toss the slice of play cheese to the side.

“…could you also remove the meat? I’m vegetarian.”

That’s the final straw. No meat? You look down at his ‘burger’: bread, lettuce, bread.

“This is what you want?” You turn to show him his order.

“Oh yes.” He smiles, clasping his hands together in anticipation. “That’s my burger! So tasty. Thank you, shop owner.”

“You’re welcome…” You give him a look. “Ketchup?”

“No thanks.”

“Mayo?”

“Bleh! Pass.”

“…barbeque sauce?”

“Oh, that’s my favorite! Lettuce and barbeque sauce burger, my favorite.” He licks his lips.

“Jiji, ew!” you whine.

tag list ( ask / comment to join ! ) @mystarsohee @cupofwyn @iwontlettheselittlethingsslip @aeriaeri

103 notes · View notes

change-is-perceivable · 7 months ago

Text

A Percy Weasley Appreciation Week!

Do you have positive feelings towards Percy Weasley, like I do?

Do you want to join in making little things to show that affection?

Then this may be the event for you!

A whole week of Percy Weasley fanworks!

Set to run from August 22nd to August 28th. (So in two months)

I have provided two prompt options for each day to use as inspiration. Feel free to use both or only one completely up to you!

If this at all sounds fun to you I hope to see you there!

This event follows the three big rules of fandom YKINMKBYKIO - Your Kink is Not My Kink, But Your Kink is Okay Don’t Like;Don’t Read SALS - Ship and Let Ship

Any sort of harassment will not be tolerated.

- Any work created should center Percy Weasley in some way or another. - Works should be newly made for this event and you can start creating anytime! - Works should be added to the Change_is_Perceivable_2024 collection over on Ao3 (it’s closed for now but I'll open it on August 22nd) - Fic minimum: 100 words no max - Art can be any medium and no minimum on what you can make. A sketch, a doodle, a moodboard. If you want to show love to Percy I will not hold you back. - AI-generated pieces will be not be accepted - Feel free to combine with other fests if they also allow it! - For anything that's done using someone else’s fic (Podfic/bookbinding) make sure they allow it. By either asking directly or looking for a blanket permission statement on their account - If you tag your works on tumblr with #ChangeIsPerce2024 I’ll reblog it c: - This is a very low stakes event. Feel free to participate everyday or for only a single day.

If you have any questions feel free to send an ask over on tumblr!

There are no wrong answers when it comes to the prompts.

Feel free to use them however they inspire you!

Prompts are as follows:

Day 1: Promise - Monster Day 2: Confession - Puzzle Day 3: Rebellion - Sleep Day 4: Comfort - Goblet Day 5: Freckle - Alone Day 6: Facade - Captivate Day 7: Change - Perceive

Alt 1: Photo Alt 2: Bathtub Alt 3: Star

#percy weasley #hp fests #harry potter fest #fanfiction fest #ChangeIsPerce2024 #hp rare pair #hp fest announcements

89 notes · View notes

yarrystyleeza · 1 year ago

Text

𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝟐𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!

Well, as the title suggests, I am turning 22 on January 30th (yes I can't believe it either), and it's a very very special number to me, I was obsessed with it since I was a kid—because of Taylor Swift's 22 of course (you have no idea how happy my inner child is now!).

However, I thought I should celebrate this very important event with you by hosting my second sleepover! (honestly I was planning to make this a double sleepover if I hit 300 followers before my birthday, but since I didn't, I really had to host a sleepover)

As usual, my sleepover will host games, questions, asks, and definitely, requests!!! <3

The sleepover will be a week long, from January 30th till February 6th, where you can submit asks and requests!

Note on prohibited things that I won't be doing or answering:

No nsfw/dirty asks, writing requests or questions, it's uncomfortable for me sometimes, and this is an all-ages-friendly celebration. No further elaboration, please respect this. <3

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬:

Here's a list of the games we can play:

Kiss/Marry/Kill: you give me three characters and I will sort each one in one of these categories! (make it hard for me)

Would you rather: you give me two things/characters and I get to choose one that suits me better! (for example: night owl or early bird?)

Make an assumption: you literally make an assumption about me and I either prove it or deny it!

Never have I ever: you ask me about things I did or didn't do!

Exchanged Ships: basically, you give me a character that you find as my significant other, and I will give you a character in exchange and why I think it's the perfect character for you!

Random Q&A: you can ask me about anything, whether it's my favorite food or even what fabrics do I prefer to wear, ask whatever you want!

Girly Talks: just talk to me about any girly topic you want and we'll establish a good conversation! Let's talk about books or authors, favorite poetry pieces, maybe movies we loved in our childhood, or even your favorite outfits back when you were a 10 year old! Literally anything!

Rate My Music Taste: give me a song/artist and I will rate it from 1 (absolute flop) to 10 (total banger)! — (this is absolutely done just for fun).

I Wanna Write You A Song: start with a phrase and we will make a totally original song together in the reblogs!

Doodles: give me something simple to draw!

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬:

As for writing requests, I will be taking fluff/angst/violence (blood and gore—due to the nature of the characters I write for) x female!reader requests only. But of course you can request the prompt you desire. <3

As for the characters, here's a list of the fictional men that I would be writing for:

Matt Murdock/Daredevil

Foggy Nelson

Tristan Thorn

Michael Kinsella

Henry (from Eat Locals)

Daryl Dixon

(might consider writing for other Charlie Cox/Norman Reedus characters. example: Ian Hamilton, Owen Sleater, Scud, Murphy MacManus, etc.)

You can ask for prompt included in this list or ones you come up with yourself:

intimate moments / gestures that make me feel love / romantic rainy day prompts / gentle things that make me fall harder in love / fluffy comforting/sick dialogue prompts / lighthearted first kiss prompts / sparring prompts / forced proximity prompts / date prompts masterpost /

Note that I will be tagging the fic requests with #yuna's 22 birthday sleepover so they're easy to find, but they will be sorted in my main masterlist as regular requests! <3

tagging my moots to spread the word sorry for being a little too annoying hehe (and I tried to tag as much as possible but my memory is messing around with me I'm sorry if I forgot anyone): @v4leoftears @remonemo @fizanotfeeza @bunmurdock @bellaxgiornata @kal-0n @1988-fiend @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @floral-charlie-cat @farfromstrange @babygirlmurdock @mattmurdocksscars @itwasthereaminuteago @c-mrdck @xxeycisxx @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mindidjarin @little-miss-dilf-lover @shiorimakibawrites @tongueofcat @marytheweefrenchie @chvoswxtch @devilsmurdock @galaxies-and-moons-and-cox @acharliecoxedfan @folkloreandfall @murdocklorian @munsonownsmyass @abbyhaslongshorts @murc0ck @lazyxsquirrel @theradioactivespidergwen @xxdrixx @saintmurd0ck @softasawhisper @she-likesorchids @peterman-spideyparker @mattmurdocksstarlight @amberlynnmurdock @courtforshort15 @saltedlays @importantnightwerewolf @lene-loki

That's basically everything I have for my birthday sleepover, feel free to submit requests and games! Thank you for coming to my sleepover tonight! <3

68 notes · View notes

rose-colored-sd · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! I hope this is ok to ask but I wanted to know how you got into doing art/fanart? Were you always the type to draw & sketch like ~before tablets and digital art became a thing? Did SD inspire you?

I’m not an artist or anything, but I’ve just been so moved seeing your fanart ++ everyone else’s (saw your Ask abt your fave artists too!!) that it made me want to draw out some SD scenes I had in my head. I’ve never really felt that way about other animes or mangas — even for other works that are close to my heart.

But I’ve never been a natural talent e.g. I feel like I’m more comfortable using a mouse (Adobe Illustrator) than with my hand physically holding the pencil (Procreate), because being creative was something I “learned” through the years. When I was younger, I’d see my talented classmates sketching beside me and think “Oh, it’s something only they can do.” And it was okay, because we all have different skills and things we’re good at, right? It’s only recently that I felt that I could do the same!

Not sure where I’m going with this, but I guess I just wanted to know if it came easy to you.

Sorry, randomly sharing so much HAHA please feel free to answer this as a private message LOL

But I love your art a bunch! I wanted you to know!

I've been drawing for most of my life, and I think that's also because both my parents are artists, I was always encouraged to draw since I was little and I was definitely using pencil and paper back then. I think I wasn't really that good until I started college, its during college is when I actually put in the work into sharpening my understanding of the fundamentals. I think growing up I just found that drawing helped me convey my thoughts and feelings to other people, especially to my friends and family. Back then even if it didn't look very good, in my head it was more important to me that my ideas were tangible in some way, as someone that loved movies and animation.

Slam Dunk definitely inspired me. It's one of the mangas that made me love comics as a medium of storytelling. The source material and works by other fans inspire me to get better at drawing too! I actually really appreciate you sharing this and that you're thinking about drawing more! I have friends that don't draw before that only started drawing recently too, and they're just learning how fun it is to draw! And I have friends that are also relearning what they loved about drawing! I'm always happy to see people getting into art! I don't know where I'm going with this either, I just hope you have fun with it even if its just doodling! Thank you so much for this ask and thank you for liking my art ^_^

#answered

7 notes · View notes

real-odark · 5 months ago

Note

hi! i have a question, have you experienced an art block? if so, is there any way you got out of it and just... started drawing? i've been suffering from an art block for i think *checks notes* 6 years now... uhhh... how did you find your style too?

HELLO ANON!! i yap so im gunna put my response under the cut but i hope my ?!! babbling ?!!??! helps

to answer your question yes i most definitely Have experienced art block..... very frequently between months i'll have chunks of time where its literally impossible for me to feel like anything i'm doing is good or even have motivation to draw and its a NIGHTMARE <\33

usually when this happens to me to work out of it i like to start by doodling ideas i have as much as i possibly can (especially little jokes between characters i made/like) and then slowly work my way up from like a bajillion little cartoon simple doodles into a slightly more complicated style and then usually i can work myself back in to doing some bigger pieces !! (even though i dont do thoughs that much even out of art block lmao but u get the idea,,)

and. well HOLY MOLY. i cannot say i have had an art block as long as u before my fine sir Holy bejeezus...,...

but i'd say to help develop your style i know everyone says this but its true, FIND INSPIRATION!!! (this is to help with your style and motivation because inspiration does NUMBERS for me it actually gets juices flowing instead of just forcing my brain to come up with something just cuz its "original", hell yeah draw that meme template if u wanna if it gives u inspiration worms... OK back to style now my bad)

finding other peoples art styles i like and breaking down what i like about them has helped me with making my own art SIGNFICANTLY and i still do very often, so thats why my art style changes a lot very frequently 😭

and dont tell anyone i encourage this but i totally take features i like from artists whose styles give me the brainworms. LIKE OBVIOUSLY IM NOT TRACING but what has helped me so much over the years is trying out different styles, like. a mix and match sort of??? i completely learned how i draw hair from a tiktoker i used to watch like 6/5 years ago,,, and to this day a lot of people still comment on how i draw it so YA!!! i have also developed by trying different anatomy styles (like. stylized Versions) for what makes me most comfortable, and different simplicities of facial features (like detailed eyes or just. Dots. like fr go wild if u like how it looks)

but most of all remember that your art will NEVER have to be a definitive thing!!!!!! even your FAVORITE artists if u look at their art from like. 4 years ago i can guarantee you you can see how their style has developed. basically what im trying to say is dont stress about having "your own" style if you think thats like going to define your art!! YOU DEFINE YOUR ART!!!! so if u feel like changing your art literally entirely at any point. DO IT! if having a style helps you to draw though i totally encourage finding one but it Also does not hurt to try other styles as u progress in art

thank u sm for the ask it is Not every day i get to yap on here (yes it is) ((i do very frequently)) (((sorry for bombarding u with this response LMAO)))

I HOPE THIS HELPED IN SOME WAY AT ALL !!!!*AND IF NOT UHHH.:.,. maybe find someone who isnt a random teenager on this app for real advice HELP

#THANK U FOR THE ASK ANON! :3 #jett talks (me)#not even talks jett YAPS #jett inbox (me)#art

5 notes · View notes

kopivie · 6 months ago

Text

y'know, it's kinda funny that i asked myself why i write. over the years, people have asked me that a lot. i've had graded assignments ask me that question quite a bit. "why do you write? what is your motivation for writing?"

...my answers were always pretty bleak. "i write because i'm scared to talk to others." or: "i write because nobody will listen to me." and outside of those assignments, i've never genuinely asked myself why i write.

well.. warning for a big ol' dump here, i guess. this blog is basically a diary, so you know the drill.

the story always starts in the same place: in the back of the empty sanctuary of my childhood church with sunlight pouring in the stained glass windows, the colors pooling on the pages of my blue composition notebook. i was ten years old.

looking back on it now, i don't know why my story starts there. i think that's just the earliest time i can remember getting immersed in the act of writing. kind of like how people describe their earliest childhood memory as the day their consciousness fully developed. but that day was so colorful to me – more so than most days from my childhood. an old friend was plinking tv show tunes on the piano at the front of the sanctuary, a few older kids were chatting away in the frontmost pews, and i was standing at the back on the left side near the window, scribbling in my notebook about... magical girl anime. at the very least, i know why i was writing back then.

back then, i had a friend who was writing her own story. completely original with characters she was drawing as she went. the stories were written in screenplay format in her notebook with little doodles to give the stories some life and... i wanted to do that. i asked her to teach me how to draw – which she did with enthusiasm – but what intrigued me more was the writing aspect. i already had a habit of conjuring up vivid imagery in my head when reading, but the thought of being able to do that myself was amazing to me.

my ten year old brain lacked the creativity to create characters from scratch. naturally, i had to start with something i already loved – something i could easily reference and build up from there – so i started with sailor moon.

sailor moon, tokyo mew mew, pripara, pretty rhythm: aurora dream, precure... (all of which used to be uploaded to youtube with each episode fragmented into three parts, i might add.) ...that's where my writing journey begins. i used to write fanfiction in the same screenplay format. i filled several notebooks cover to cover with my big, messy handwriting. i wish i still had those notebooks. but the point is that i had no need for the artwork – my mind was enough.

i later developed a love for mythology – greek mythology, specifically. it expanded into astrology, anthology, and gemology... i would always weave these things into my works somehow. my love of linguistics would come into play as i'd learn languages and cultures just to use them for the sake of giving my writing more depth.

now that i'm looking back on all of this, i... don't think i ever had a purpose. when i began, i wanted to be like my friend. i wanted to show her that i could do it, too. later, i just wrote because i wanted to create characters in the animated worlds that i loved to lose myself in; it was a form of escapism, i think. it was definitely escapism from high school onward since my mental health worsened from 2017-2022, but before that.. there's nothing.

which is a little scary, y'know? realizing that i lack a purpose – that my writing lacks a purpose. the very hobby i decided to dedicate my future to feels meaningless now.

i wrote to replicate someone else. i wrote to escape my own thoughts; i wrote to comfort myself when i needed affection the most: i wrote to comfort and connect with others, but i also wrote to shield myself from my own reality.

i think the reason why this feeling of existential dread exists is because i'm finally in a place where i'm perceiving myself. for almost a decade now, i didn't want to be perceived by anybody, much less myself. i didn't think of myself as a person. i didn't exist. i was just some worthless lump of meat on this doomed earth who just so happened to know how to string words together. i was irreversibly flawed and unlovable.

i'm at a point where i now know what kind of person i am. i can look back on how broken i once was and be saddened by the pieces. i can finally pick up those pieces and put them together; i can set them aside and start anew using those pieces as a reference. what i'm saying is: i can see myself. i finally know what i look like. (i still don't understand how i look to others, but that's besides the point.)

but when my whole purpose for writing was to avoid that – to avoid seeing myself – what happens now? why do i write?

that's the reason why i haven't written about anything for a while now. i have nothing to hide from. i wither and rot for a few days at a time and then come out stronger, ready to brush it all away and move forward. i never did that before. before, i would wither and rot for months, and write to fill the void. i wrote recklessly and without abandon just to get my feelings out there in hopes that someone would hear my voice and know that i'm alive.

in essence, i saved my life through writing. literature saved my life. but now that i've taken the reins, i don't know what to do.

i refuse to leave it behind. i still have my creative spirit. i still have these passing ideas, these bursts of inspiration that characterized my teenage years. but the flames of passion die quickly without any kindling, leaving me lost. i feel hollow without writing but lighter without my agony weighing me down all the time.

...i'm lost. i don't know what to do. i'm more insecure in my writing than i have ever been in my entire life, and that scares me. i want to try, but there's this... block. a lack of emotion that i can't quite explain. there's more apprehension than there is inspiration, so my creativity shrivels up and dies, leaving me disgusted and horrified by myself. i don't know what to do.

i'm not going to give up.

i'm not. little by little, i will try to find my new meaning. i don't know what it will take for me to find it, but i will. maybe i'll just sit and do some research on my favorite topics when i get home? do some bullet journaling on my favorite things and dedicate time to making pages of my favorite facts. maybe something will blossom then.

#[ 🌱 — blah blah. ]#BLAH BLAH INDEED.#the sheer amount of metaphors i could use for this is wild #because its true #i feel like i'm wandering down a dark corridor #the corridor is familiar #the same as its always been #like the hallways of your childhood home #or the streets of a town you grew up in #but after going away for college (metaphorically) and coming back #all of a sudden everything is changed #the streets are different. the store you frequented is no longer there #your neighbors and favorite vendors are gone #or for the home metaphor #your parents have rearranged the entire house in your absence #repurposed your bedroom #or possibly even left altogether. your home has a completely new inhabitant and you're forever locked out #i'm wandering a dark yet familiar corridor. i should know where i'm going. but i don't.#should i turn on a light and get acquainted with this corridor?#or should i just bulldoze a new one altogether?

3 notes · View notes

princesseevee06 · 1 year ago

Note

heyheyhey!! 'Your Turn Ryoko' is very yummy and i love your brainrotting and art so much T_T its really cool to see the yttd cast in different roles! i am oh so very invested hehsjfhsj

noww, i was wondering what Maple and Midori's dynamic/relationship is like in your au? 👀

(i ask this because i was thinking to myself how funny it'd be if Maple was still Out To Murder™ Midori at the beginning of their relationship [or something akin to that,] and if Midori was still Terrified™ of her even as a human HAHA though its unlikely ^^")

also, if Sou and Shin are taking the roles of Shin and Kanna respectively.. what does that mean for the main game of chapter 2.... o.o

but yeah, dont feel pressured to answer anything if its too spoilery or just straight up wrong haha!! i love your au and i look forward to seeing more :D

hello bread!!! (is it,, okay if i call you that??? i dont really know what else to 😭) thank you for continually being so kind and supportive about my au and art in general ;-; i am glad someone enjoys my silly ramblings. i also think your art is super duper cool!!!

okok for the maple and sou question: so because maple wanting to kill him was kind of part of her programming as an obstructor, that wouldn’t really apply here, but that idea is still SO funny to me?? i’ll def have to doodle that at some point lmaooo

their dynamic here is actually really polite! i see them as being good buddies :) maple is one of the participants who’s closer to sou, because she very much wants to work together with the others and see the good in everyone. it’s very much like. “awwww what a nice guy!” and then the guy in question is plotting murder ahsjkskdks

just as an example:

although, i still can def see sou being a little bit scared of her, because maple very much can be scary when she wants to. she’s very opposed to the ideas that the death game perpetuates, what with suspecting and betraying one another, and so while most of her ire is directed towards the floormasters, she can also get pretty pissed when the actual participants try to trick each other. so…yeah, sou tries to stay on her good side and be a nice boy. but he also does genuinely think she’s neat!

for the shin and sou question: i wasn’t actually going to talk about the second main game for at least a little while, but im horrible at keeping secrets anyways and talking about this excites me, so why the hell not!!

so, while over time i’ve leaned less into the idea of a character’s “role” determining the actions they take (e.g. just because shin takes kanna’s role doesn’t mean he acts like kanna), the one thing i have stuck to is that when one character takes another’s role, they will always die at the same point in the story. i wanted to also incorporate ‘branching paths’ for ytr as well, because it’s one of the things that really sticks out to me about yttd!

…so yeah the second main game vote is either between voting for shin or sou (or technically ranmaru, but then everyone else would die). it’s vv tragic to me, because i love both of them </3 but i do what i must for angst.

i’m definitely going to give the main games their own posts (and almost 100% some art as well) in the future, but if you’ll allow me to get a bit rambly about shin and sou’s dynamic here and how it affects the main game, ehehe… ^_^

sou and shin at the beginning of the death game very much start out with ulterior motives. yes, they are friends, but they also gain something out of allying with each other: someone who they can rely on/who can vouch for them, which improves their chances of surviving. so they act all buddy-buddy, but there’s definitely tinges of manipulation going on from both sides (and while they realize exactly what’s happening they still acknowledge that this “trade-off” (both literally and metaphorically lol) is a good deal for both of them)

but throughout the death game they end up getting a lot more comfortable/vulnerable with each other, and soon enough they realize they really care about each other (really, they have the whole time). and this obviously complicates things because them wanting to protect each other throws a wrench in the whole “every-man-for-himself” ideology they’ve been preaching.

so, kind of like kanna, sou tries to get the sacrifice card during the second main game trading phase, but he does it with the intention of having him and shin escape together. …he does not actually get the card because the cards get swapped by gashu (there’s different reasoning for why they’re swapped this time but i’ll get into that in another post as well probably). hence, pain.

i envision the end of the 2nd main game being almost a screaming match between the two as they desperately try to convince everyone else to “vote for me so he can live!” (sort of like the shin and kanna vote but even angrier) (because kanna is a sweetheart and sou is Not) (it’s horribly ironic as i’d consider shin and sou the two characters with the strongest survival instinct in this cast, yet they are both driven to self-sacrifice here)

okok uhhhh sorry for the long tangent as you can see i’m evidently insane about these two’s dynamic in this au! ANYWAYS this vote is a lot different from the shin & kanna one because no matter who ryoko votes for as the tiebreaker, the one who survives will be PISSED. and by god they try everything to make her life a living nightmare in chapter 3 (because. being ryoko is suffering)

…i apologize so much this is probably incoherent because at the time of writing this it was past 1AM. but regardless thank you so much for the ask and your continuous support, and expect more content soon!!! :DD

#princesseevee answers #yttd #your turn ryoko #yttd maple #sou hiyori #yttd midori #shin tsukimi #my art

11 notes · View notes

mcrmadness · 1 year ago

Note

001 About Richy and Igor

002 About Igor specifically (wanna hear your thoughts about him in depth :D)

003 about Monty Python characters? if it's even possible?

(I would gladly hear you on 001 about FuB, but as I'm being absolutely too much, I can understand that you don't do it. It's extra content :D)

((Also, you are free to answer to this ask for only one ask and do the others on separate posts for more clarity !))

I reblogged this ask game before reading any of the questions, and after receiving your ask, I read them and now I have to say that my questions are probably gonna be very, VERY underwhelming ::D So don't get too excited, cos I don't think I'm able to give you the type of answers you might be interested in reading :D But I'll try anyway, but know that you're been warned: boredom alert!!!

001 | Richy & Igor

when I started shipping it if I did: Must have been in 2009 when I found out about die ärzte for the first time. I watched every video I could find, including Richy Guitar. At first I didn't really care about the film, and I wasn't exactly shipping R/I but more of obsessing with the clips because of my new Bela/Farin obsession. I got way more into the ship only during the past 2 or 3 years, when I also started writing fanfiction about them, and then it evolved into drawing doodles and comics too.

my thoughts: Uh, what can I say? Head empty, no thoughts. My brain keeps hyperfixating on this ship for no good reason.

What makes me happy about them: Nothing.

What makes me sad about them: Nothing.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: Anything that doesn't align with my own headcanons or is too far away from the actual canon.

things I look for in fanfic: Nothing. Because it doesn't exist, so I have already given up.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: No one else.

My happily ever after for them: Idk.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Idk.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Canon? Music. My headcanons? Fast food.

---

002 | Igor

How I feel about this character: Idk.

All the people I ship romantically with this character & My non-romantic OTP for this character: I honestly don't know if it's romantic or queerplatonic or just platonic, but I only ship him with Richard.

My unpopular opinion about this character: I have none. I don't think there are even popular opinions about this character out there.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wish to know where does he live. I keep thinking about that caravan inside the abandoned factory, and I keep headcanoning it as Igor's residence but I wish I knew whose place that actually was (the other option is Hans, but yeah, it's never revealed in the film).

my OTP: Richy/Igor lol

my cross over ship: None.

a headcanon fact: He's head over heels for Richard whether that be platonic or not.

---

003 | send me 5 characters and I will rank them in order of preference

You asked about Monty Python characters. I guess it is possible, but just very very difficult because there are not that many reoccuring characters, and the Flying Circus show ran for 4 seasons and there are several films, so the character count could be in hundreds tbh. Often the skits are also more about the joke and topic and less about characters, even when they're often given names. But as I'm writing this, I can feel a potential list cooking inside my head so, here we go!

The Gumbys. My favourite quote comes from these skits: "My brain hurts!" I can't find that as a gif now, but they are these extremely, extremely stupid characters who shout every line of theirs cos they are so dumb. Here's the Brain Specialist skit where that quote is from too :D

youtube

2. The Hell's Grannies. This is just the funniest shit ever and I absolutely love the graffiti they paint as a graffiti and which goes: "Make tea, not love." Here's a link to a video on youtube.

3. Anne Elk (Miss). I just keep rewatching this skit over and over again cos it's so stupid, and the characters just interact with each other in such a funny way, and Graham's character's reactions to Anne Elk are so funny :D

youtube

4. Pontius Pilate in Life of Brian. Ok this movie is full of extremely funny characters, and I would like to mention a handful of others, such as the deaf and stupid character and his companion who's stuttering the whole time; and also that man in the pit who hadn't talked at all until Brian accidentally jumped on his foot. But I still have to give this place for Michael Palin's Pontius Pilate just for that Biggus Dickus scene cos it's probably the funniest movie scene I have ever seen. Palin often had the funniest characters, and it's even funnier when you know that the extras and other actors didn't know about his lines so if I'm correct, all of those laughters were genuine reactions to Palin's acting, and he also was so close to losing it at one point :D

youtube

5. And you know what? I just HAVE TO link here the French Taunting scene from Monty Python & the Holy Grail, just for you XD "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!" kills me every time.

youtube

+ And you get an extra just because you're French, this skit and their accents in this sometimes live rent free in my head :D

youtube

THANK YOU so much for the ask btw! I decided to skip the 001 about FUB cos my answers would have not been much different from the RG one, apart from real people not having a canon, and me not really having any headcanons for them for that same reason. So, it would have not really added anything, or would have been even less than what I now got for the answers for R/I.

Funnily enough, I got way more out of Monty Python. It just shows how I don't get attached to characters really, but live for and from humour, and anything that's funny af to me, I like and makes me happy.

#fichtfoxfuchs #ask games

6 notes · View notes