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#been wanting to try my hand at the template sets
swanimagines · 3 days
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MCU: Imagine getting kidnapped by Thanos, and your boyfriend Peter Parker rescuing you.
requested by anon
Note: nowadays all requests are done straight to asks, this is my old template of posting and I no longer have their asks!
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You had been kept in that little glass box for maybe a week now. You weren’t sure, days had blurred together by now. The first two days, you were screaming for them to let you out, threatening them with Tony, Stephen, Steve and Carol, foolishly hoping their names would scare Thanos into letting you go.
You knew Avengers probably didn't know you had been kidnapped though — you had left for a vacation just before Thanos's henchmen hunted you down, drugged you and next you found yourself in that glass cage. You had quit struggling, trying to escape long ago, you learned the hard way how it was foolish. You should’ve saved your strength, but instead you decided to wrestle against the impossible force. Your fists were bruised, your voice almost gone from screaming for help. The walls were indestructible, and you were no superhero like your boyfriend was. You were just an ordinary student who Peter Parker happened to date.
Thanos never visited you. Why would he? You were a bait, you weren’t worth visiting, or taunting. He knew you wouldn’t be able to tell him anything valuable, so instead his henchmen dropped by once in a while to drop you food and water. They never stayed for any longer than that, never even shot you a smirk. Not that you wanted them to, but it really did emphasise how little they thought of you. You weren’t a person, you were an object of convenience.
You knew that once Peter found out you’re missing, he would stop at nothing to rescue you. And other Avengers would join him in searching you out, of course they would. But you weren’t sure if they’d succeed, or if you even wanted to be found. It was a trap, you knew they knew, but… you couldn’t help but be afraid of them underestimating the trap. What if one of them died rescuing you?
The world needed them. But the world didn’t need you, not in that scale or that way. You’d never be out there stopping the apocalypse. You’d never save even one civilian. Compared to them, you were nothing, even when Peter would argue back. You knew your life was precious and you deserved to live and be saved, it wasn’t that you thought little of yourself like that. But you weren’t a superhero and the world was more unstable than ever. Saving you, knowingly taking the bait, would be a huge risk. Thanos surely knew they’d know, and would attempt to gather everything he could for a battle to overtake them, as they’d basically be served to him.
So, you were conflicted about anyone saving you. You didn’t want to die there, and would do anything to see Peter again, but you knew that saving you would potentially kill him. And that would be something you’d never forgive yourself.
You dreamed of it often. The door of your cell busting open, Peter wrapping his arms around you and telling you everything would be all right. And then waking up, half-expecting to wake up in his arms. Hear him say how worried he was about you, how glad he is to have gotten you back.
You looked at the bruises scattered around your knuckles, gently running your fingers across them. Peter had always told you to trust him and the Avengers, that they’d set the world right and stop Thanos. And you wanted to believe him, still did. But you still felt like you were slowing them down by getting yourself kidnapped. You knew it wasn’t your fault, but you still kind of blamed yourself for it.
Then, a flicker of light made you jolt. Or rather a spark, combined with a crackling noise. You stood up, pressing your hands against the glass. 
More sparks.
And you recognised them, they were coming from that ring Dr. Strange owned, you had briefly seen it get used.
You held your breath without even really noticing it, looking at the sparks as they grew more and more frequent, and suddenly a portal appeared.
You could see Ned on the other side, and once your eyes met, he turned to the side and said something — and then Peter appeared, quickly stepping through the portal.
His mouth moved as he looked at you, but you couldn’t hear him and pointed to your ear while shaking your head. Peter looked back at Ned, who reluctantly stepped into the room as well, and you glanced at the door nervously. Thanos could step in at any minute, or one of his henchmen, and then both of them would be dead.
Ned put his arms up and started circling his hand, Peter impatiently watching at him and you. Then, a portal started forming, somehow making a pitch black hole into the glass. Peter gestured you to hurry through, and you jumped before second-guessing it.
Stone floor, someone pulling you up. 
“Oh my god,” a voice said, making your ears ring after so long of not hearing anything aside from your own voice. But you recognised it — MJ. You let her help you up, stared at her for a moment before lunging for a hug, and she hugged you right back.
Crackling again, and you turned your head to see Peter and Ned standing there, and you couldn’t help but burst into tears as you lunged for Peter, almost toppling him over.
“How did you find me?” you muttered against his shirt, but the next moment you pulled back and shook your head. “Or doesn’t matter, I just… I was sure Thanos would… I mean, I didn’t know if you could save me.”
Peter chuckled. “I promised you, didn’t I? I promised to make the world right, and it wouldn’t be right without you.”
You looked at him, cupping his face into your hands. You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks and took in a shaky breath. “I was sure I would die there. I thought that saving me would put you all in danger, that the risk would–”
Peter shook his head, interrupting you. “No way, everyone knew you needed to be saved, you’re one of us, even if you’re not a superhero. We don’t leave anyone behind, especially not you.”
Ned and MJ had quietly left the room, giving you and Peter some space to talk. You swallowed. “I should have been smarter when… I should have known–”
“Don’t,” Peter interrupted you again. “You wouldn’t have been able to prevent it, Thanos had a plan and he knew exactly how to get you without anyone noticing a thing.”
You nodded, knowing he was right. Even if you had stayed at home all day, you would have likely woken up in that cell. You closed your eyes for a moment, and Peter sighed, tugging at your hand. “C’mon. You should get some sleep, let’s go to my place..”
You nodded, letting him lead you out. And when you exited that warehouse and you saw the sun, you finally realised you were going home again.
Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
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michyeosseo · 2 years
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I do not care what other people do with their lives– I want you to live.
Li Bing Bing and Zhou Xun as LI NINGYU & GU XIAOMENG THE MESSAGE (2009) dir. Chen Kuo-fu, Gao Qunshu
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pixiesndberries · 9 months
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𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —
a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !
☆ OUR STARS : Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !
━ REQUESTED BY : none
━⁠ WARNINGS : none
ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : were back again at daily posting 🙏🏻 to my pookies who supported me, y'all made me giggle and kickin' my feet in my bed last night 👉🏻👈🏻 love lots!
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GOJO SATORU, as your husband !
• Gojo being your husband is no different from being your boyfriend — he still gotta be that same person you dated few years ago, though he became more serious about situations and decisions because you guys are married but his goofy, annoying, clingy side is still there — I mean when he met you and been with you for like two weeks your caller name is already set as 'wifey'.
Gojo who totally acts like a mom when you leave for work, he is like a freaking HOUSEWIFE —
"honey!" he sings as he walks into the living room seeing you brush your hair Infront of the mirror, getting ready for work. "hmm?" you responded and quickly turns your head at him — he's wearing a this is what an awesome husband looks like apron which made you too stunned to speak, "I created a bento for you." he smiles as he hands out a nicely wrapped bento box which was really new to you because it's always you who keep creating bentos for him, usually when he leaves for a mission.
"thank you, honey." you say softly with a warm smile as you accept his bento that he specially created for you, he can't help but to feel like a love sick teenager seeing you smile like that. He officially takes the position of being a housewife 🫡
Gojo who couldn't stop talking about the future he wants with you like nonstop — this man would talk about having three million carbon copy of him with you and would name them after megumi, yuji, nanami and basically all of his friends, students, and dead relatives 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 — I FEEL LIKE HE GOTTA BE THAT TYPE OF PERSON.
Gojo always flexes you everyday and YOU are his hyper fixation — argue with the wall, he gotta be the type of man to say "she's my wife." randomly when he's talking to an old friend he haven't seen for a long time. HE WILL BE THE HUSBAND WHO YOU WILL SEE WEARING "I LOVE MY WIFE" TYPE OF SHIRT WITH THE UGLIEST FONT AND PHOTO TEMPLATE EVER. Once a person mentions your name he ain't gonna shut the fuck up.
I just know this marriage go'n be like Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively's relationship 🙏🏻 ABSOLUTELY RANDOM TEXTS FROM HIM, UPDATING YOU TOO MUCH.
2:32 pm
gojo : shitting at the mall cuz i don't have anywhere to shit on.
gojo : [sent an attachment]
gojo : i miss you my wife, my beautiful wife.
gojo : [sent an attachment]
gojo : [sent an attachment]
gojo : your very handsome husband ❤️
2:40 pm
you : stop spamming me messages love, im at work 🙏🏻
gojo : why? is it turning you on 😏
you : that's a photo of your feet.
Gojo who became a seriously hands on person when you told him that you're pregnant — when he has missions with yuji, megumi, or maybe nobara and you told him that you're very tired to do anything today he will be like,"okay kids, I got to go I have important things to do." and dashed away before they could say something and mf arrived at yalls house within a second.
Gojo who cried when he carry his baby for the first time, he was sobbing like hell — girl dad? boy dad? BRO HE IS BOTH ‼️ "okay we'll name this one suguru and this one-" he is going to come up with the most ridiculous names, probably the worst one was his dead ancestor.
okay seriously, Gojo would be a full time dad after his children were born — he will always stay at home as much as he can, having twins isn't easy plus he's trying to help you with his full power and make sure you don't feel alone through this.
"gojo.." you grumble as you felt his presence disappearing next to you at bed, you open your eyes and sees he wasn't there which led you to stand up and start looking for him — you walk out of the bedroom and noticed that the twin's bedroom door was open so you check it out.
in your suprise, gojo was in the rocking chair with the twin's in his arms peacefully sleeping and he is snoring like hell. You can't help but smile seeing this moment, it warms you heart. You quickly grabbed your phone and took a quick photo, this is what you exactly wished for.
Gojo who couldn't stop posting you and his little angels and his fans are absolutely living for it, it's like his day wouldn't complete without posting cute photos of his angels and of course, you as well. Gojo is indeed a Facebook mom —
; gojosatoru
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tagged : @y/n.instagram | fam time 🤍 !
liked by megumi.22 and 8,957 others
itaaa.yuji | I volunteer as a tribute to babysit them 🫡
nobaraaa | CUTIES.
shokoleiri.7 | adorbs
─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!
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mysterystarz · 5 months
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kiss me maybe:
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summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss
pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader
word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)
genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours
warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread
a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented
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It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical. 
Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling. 
To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish. 
Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories. 
And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.
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Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography. 
Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!) 
“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression. 
Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury. 
“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”
“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.” 
You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment. 
Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction. 
For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works. 
“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place. 
“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”
“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.” 
“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”
“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision. 
There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer. 
“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you. 
“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle. 
He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm. 
“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.” 
Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”
“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke. 
“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.” 
You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.” 
The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze. 
However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.
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Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down. 
Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat. 
The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place. 
“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.” 
“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?” 
“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door. 
The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?” 
“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.” 
The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation. 
“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually. 
“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” 
With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name. 
Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing. 
A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.
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Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice. 
“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits. 
Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door. 
“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.  
“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you. 
The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills. 
For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big. 
“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere. 
“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”
As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad. 
“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.” 
“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed. 
“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.” 
“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.” 
“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”
“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”
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You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you. 
You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in. 
“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!” 
You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too. 
The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks. 
When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime. 
“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?” 
“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?” 
“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.” 
For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake. 
Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash. 
In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on. 
“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.” 
“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.” 
Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable. 
A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside. 
Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake. 
This sucked ass. 
You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along. 
Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering,  you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when. 
The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake. 
You could almost call it picturesque. 
You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed. 
The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you. 
They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk. 
“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte. 
“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did.  “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.” 
“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.” 
“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.” 
Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again. 
His presence had a way of putting you at ease. 
The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.
The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you. 
High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much. 
You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings. 
What could be more human than that? 
Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent. 
“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.” 
What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?
“What did they do to you?”
“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations. 
Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better. 
You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space. 
Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness. 
When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours. 
Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out. 
A grand gym and an even grander boy. 
You just avoided him after that.
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“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit. 
To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.
“Yeah, water under the bridge.” 
“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”
“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.” 
“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation. 
“Well-“
“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”
“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.” 
His eyes lit up. “You mean it?” 
You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you. 
“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards. 
“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.” 
You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping. 
“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”
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Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion. 
Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?” 
“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”
“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.” 
“We always love the extra coverage.” 
“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”
“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was. 
“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.” 
“Not true.” He huffed. 
“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.” 
People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager. 
Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with. 
“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.” 
Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.” 
He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?” 
Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.” 
“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”
“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.” 
As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.
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Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.
You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too. 
As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean. 
Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends. 
You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky. 
How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset. 
“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings. 
And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition. 
“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it. 
“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.” 
“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit. 
“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?” 
“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.” 
“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open. 
You weren’t sure what to say. 
A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.
“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.” 
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret. 
“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper. 
Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.
For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine. 
You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.  
Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity. 
Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru. 
Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face. 
“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.” 
You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression. 
“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.” 
Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees. 
You sat down, gesturing for him to join you. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.” 
“It’s been here…?” 
Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.” 
You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?” 
“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.” 
“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.” 
“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.” 
“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.” 
“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.” 
“Iwaizumi says otherwise.” 
“Mean. But seriously, why?” 
You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless. 
“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him. 
Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin. 
“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.” 
“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over. 
“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.” 
You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually. 
“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to. 
“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.” 
“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.” 
With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face. 
The way he looked at you now was like worship. 
“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think. 
“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?” 
Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours. 
Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips. 
Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt. 
You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you. 
The way he held you was reverent. 
When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 
“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much. 
You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.
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Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots. 
Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up. 
He didn’t kiss and tell after all. 
“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.” 
“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could. 
“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.” 
“Am I not allowed to have good days?” 
“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?” 
“With my sets, yes.” 
“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.” 
Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking. 
Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight. 
It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him. 
Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could. 
The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through. 
The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride. 
“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning. 
“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?” 
You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.” 
Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life. 
The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).
The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.
The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness. 
The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness. 
“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!” 
“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.” 
Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you. 
Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through. 
You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.” 
Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?” 
Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.” 
”That is a great idea,” you chimed in. 
“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully). 
”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.” 
The team went silent. “You have a what?!”
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The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously. 
“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.” 
You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”
You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together. 
“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.” 
“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.” 
“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.” 
Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?” 
You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her. 
Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty. 
She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?” 
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur. 
“When?” 
“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you. 
“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly. 
“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.” 
“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing. 
“Shush.” 
The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house. 
She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.” 
You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did. 
“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.” 
“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold. 
“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.” 
“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?” 
“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.” 
He was planning on not headlining the booth?
Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest. 
Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like. 
“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out. 
“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.” 
Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory. 
“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.
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When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing. 
That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag. 
“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever). 
You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth. 
“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.” 
“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside. 
“Wow. How did you know about the name?” 
“I have my sources,” you winked. 
Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.” 
“So you do know.” 
“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.” 
You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you. 
“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.” 
“We don’t have to right now.” 
“Thanks Tooru.” 
“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.” 
You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?” 
Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.” 
You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes. 
“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance. 
“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” 
You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.” 
“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“ 
“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.” 
You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle. 
“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.” 
You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.” 
Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty. 
Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.
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When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively. 
He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response. 
”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.” 
Correction: something was horrifically wrong. 
“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.  
“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.” 
Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to. 
However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment. 
“Were you guys dating?”
“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”
“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?” 
You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet. 
“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.” 
At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.” 
“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.” 
The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant. 
Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus. 
You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled. 
Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame. 
“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been. 
“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.” 
“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?” 
“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.” 
“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?” 
Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.” 
You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.” 
“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”
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“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room. 
“Je suis fâché.” 
“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.” 
“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?” 
“Je ne veux pas continuer.” 
“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again. 
He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now. 
“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move. 
He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air. 
Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth. 
“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?” 
Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.” 
“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.” 
“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.” 
Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.” 
He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?” 
Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you. 
He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you. 
When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours. 
Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this. 
“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.” 
“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”
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You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid. 
Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall. 
Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point. 
Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him). 
“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.” 
“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up. 
“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.” 
“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react. 
You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it. 
“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.” 
You nodded.
“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance.  I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.” 
“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”
“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?” 
You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad. 
“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?” 
Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling. 
“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.” 
You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile. 
You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?” 
“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.
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As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today. 
Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign. 
The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually. 
He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths. 
“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop. 
“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!” 
Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!” 
He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands. 
He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations. 
The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.
To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit). 
“This is pretty amazing, huh?” 
Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him. 
“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.” 
“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?” 
Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound 
that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.” 
Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?” 
Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.” 
The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?” 
“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure. 
“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”
“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.” 
Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool. 
Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week. 
Maybe today would be okay after all.
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You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you. 
Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself. 
Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.  
Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa? 
You weren’t sure. 
The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass. 
Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit. 
“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.” 
“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”
Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money. 
He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”
You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.” 
Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.” 
You snickered. “Not a chance.” 
Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.
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“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.” 
“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row. 
The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later. 
Soon enough, you were at the front of the line. 
“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?” 
“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.” 
You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”
Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in. 
For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands. 
The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene. 
You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today. 
You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range. 
This was intriguing. 
“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding. 
“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!” 
“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.” 
In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye. 
“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.
“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.” 
“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand. 
“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable. 
Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line. 
“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line. 
“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered. 
“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?” 
“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.” 
The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra. 
“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.” 
“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand. 
“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple. 
“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress. 
“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said. 
“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.” 
Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. 
He really had meant everything. You needed to see him. 
When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss. 
You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you. 
You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them. 
You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was. 
Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands. 
“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 
This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession. 
It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections. 
“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe. 
“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.
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©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited
if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!
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Note
Tips for writers with ADHD that get major writers block/burnout
Writers with ADHD and Writer's Block/Burnout
Tip #1 - Troubleshoot the Problem - I want to start here, in the most obvious place, because even for writers with ADHD, writer's block is often the result of a specific issue that can be surmounted once identified. My post 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! addresses some of the most common ones. It's worth checking to see if something on there resonates with you as a potential obstacle to progress.
Tip #2 - De-Stress Your Writing Time - Human brains are wired to respond in specific ways to perceived threats... fight, flight, or freeze. Quite often, what we call "writer's block" is actually your brain having a freeze response to writing because it's causing you stress and is therefore perceived as a threat.
So, anything you can do to de-stress your writing time can help. Troubleshooting the problem as in #1 is a good start. Set reasonable goals and deadlines... you can estimate your available writing time and calculate that with your estimated WPM to see if it's even possible for you to hit your word count goal. Go easy on yourself when you don't reach goals... celebrate even the smallest of wins, because negative thinking makes writing more stressful. Do what you can to set up an inviting writing space, light a candle (safely), play soft music, use ambient lighting, have your favorite beverage and snack at hand.
Tip #3 - "Gamify" Your Writing - Turning your writing goals into game achievements can make writing fun, which is another great way to de-stress it. You can usually find free game board templates online, or you can create your own. I like to set mine up like this:
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You can set as many tasks as you want (within reason) for each goal, and your prizes can be anything from a handful of candy to buying something you really want, or doing something you really want to do. Whatever works for your budget that motivates you to get the tasks done.
Tip #4 - Do an Immersive Writing Sprint Session - YouTube is a wonderland of helpful videos for writers... not just easily digestible writing advice and research information, but also writing music, ambience rooms, and one of my favorites, immersive writing sessions. These are themed ambience rooms with ambient video, music, and sound effects, but they also have a writing sprint timer on the screen, so you are encouraged to write for however long (usually 10 to 20 minutes), then you get a five or ten-minute break before the next sprint starts. These can be a really great way to get into the zone if you're struggling otherwise.
Tip #5 - Eliminate Distractions - When you have ADHD, pretty much anything can be a distraction. If my desk is messy, I'll pause mid-sentence to clean it rather than write. If there's something on my desk I can fidget with or play with, I'll do that. If my phone is handy, I'll pick it up and start scrolling through social media. If I'm listening to music with words, I'll go look up the lyrics and fall down some weird tangentially related rabbit hole. If I'm hungry or thirsty, I'll get up fifty times to get a small snack or drink. So, I clean my desk ahead of time and remove anything I might be tempted to fiddle with. I only play instrumental music (usually an ambience room). I put my phone on silent or leave it in another room.
Literally anything I can do to head my usual distractions off at the pass. For me, it actually makes a big difference. Try keeping a running list of things that distract you while writing during a week of writing sessions. Then, go through the list and write solutions. This helps you build a pre-writing session distraction elimination routine.
I hope something here will work for you! I may do a part two to this soon, so keep an eye out!
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here
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cosmicdream222 · 6 months
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EFT Tapping Script Template for Void State, Manifesting & Shifting
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
This is an example EFT tapping script to use to clear your negative beliefs, calm your nervous system, and reprogram your mind with positive affirmations around entering the void, manifesting your dream life or shifting.
If you've never tried tapping before, this quick video demonstrates all the points you need to know. Some people don't use the wrist point and that's fine, I prefer to use it. You can also tap other places on the body, especially places that might hold tension like your lower back or shoulders.
Phase 1: Set-Up
Tapping sessions start off with a "set-up" on the side of the hand, where you tell yourself that even though you have all these negative thoughts, it's ok and you love yourself anyway.
The set-up phrase template is: "Even though I [have this negative thought/feeling/situation], I deeply and completely love and accept and forgive myself." It's usually repeated 3 times, but can go longer if you want.
It's best to use your own words, but this is the basic idea:
For void state: "Even though I think the void is hard to enter, I deeply and completely love and accept myself. Even though I have tried so many times to enter the void, and I keep failing, and I'm so frustrated and annoyed, I deeply and completely love and forgive myself. Even though I have tried so many methods and nothing is working, and I'm so mad that people make it seem so easy, and I feel like something is wrong with me, I deeply and completely love and accept and forgive myself. I'm willing to change the way I look at things. I'm willing to change my mind and my state. I'm willing to let go of the past."
For manifesting your dream life or shifting: "Even though I think it sounds impossible that I can wake up with all my desires/shift to my desired reality, I deeply and completely love and accept myself. Even though I have so many limiting beliefs from society, doubts that this is real, and people telling me this is ridiculous, I deeply and completely love and forgive myself. Even though I have tried so many methods and keep failing, and I wonder if I'll every be successful, and I feel like something is wrong with me, I deeply and completely love and accept and forgive myself. I'm willing to change the way I look at things. I'm willing to change my mind and my state. I'm willing to let go of the past,"
Take a deep breath, rub your hands together, drink some water.
Phase 2: Venting
Start tapping on the main points in a cycle and continue with the venting.
Void: "I have been trying to enter the void for so long. I haven't had any success. It's just so frustrating. It's just so hard. No matter what I try it doesn't work. Every morning I wake up disappointed that I failed to enter the void again. Why has it been so hard for me? Some people make it look so easy. It's just not fair. What am I doing wrong?"
Manifesting/shifting: "I have been trying to manifest my dream life/shift for so long. I haven't had any success or movement at all. Every morning I wake up in my same old reality and I'm so frustrated. I just want to wake up with all my desires. I'm just sick of this life. Why do some people make it look so easy? I've tried everything and keep failing. What's wrong with me?"
Continue venting for as long as you need. You might want to go through 2-3 (or more) rounds of the negative before you move on.
Phase 3: Bridging
Next I like to start making "bridging" statements. Like you're creating a bridge from your past negative state to your future one, you're gradually guiding yourself to feel better.
Example bridge for any: "I know I've been trying for a long time. But I also know I've had a lot of things to overcome. Yes, my life has been difficult. I know it's not my fault. I know I'm not doing anything wrong. I can't compare my journey to anyone else's. I don't know what they were going through before they had their success. But I do know I am in control of my future. No matter what happened in the past, I'm willing to believe I am in control now. I'm willing to believe that life can be easy for me. I'm open to believing that I can be successful."
You can continue to bridge as long as you need to. If you find your affirmations hard to believe, you can do a few rounds saying them starting with bridging phrases like:
Maybe I can start to believe that ____
I'm willing to believe ____
I am open to the possibility that ____
I can start to accept that ____
I choose to believe ____
Phase 4: Positive Affirmations
Finally, start using your positive affirmations and hyping yourself up.
Void: "It literally doesn't matter what happened in the past, because I am in control now. I was overcomplicating things because of tumblr and putting the void on a pedestal. I don't have to do that anymore. I know the void is real. I also know the void is no big deal. I know I enter the void every night when I sleep. I've entered the void a million times before. I know the void is just myself in my highest form. I know I am in control of the void because I am the creator. I know the void is easy to enter. I know I can enter the void easily no matter what."
Manifesting/shifting: "It literally doesn't matter what happened in the past, because I am in control now. I was overcomplicating things because of tumblr/ShiftTok and putting my desires on a pedestal. I don't have to do that anymore. I know manifesting/shifting is real. I know I am the creator of my reality and I can have anything I want. No desire or reality is more special, bigger or more important than any other. I know I can have whatever I want. I know I can shift/manifest easily. I am a master shifter/manifestor now. It's so easy for me to get all my desires."
Continue with the positive statements for as long as you want. In total the whole thing would probably take 10-20 minutes, but you can always go longer.
When you're done, rub your hands together or "Namaste", thank yourself for doing the work, and drink lots of water!!
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gretagerwigsmuse · 10 months
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can't hardly wait
Summary: in which a guy named bradley likes you back on hinge...
OR a prequel fic with the first hinge messages
Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader
Warnings: listen i know i have a picture selected for her, i just wanted to have the ice cream comparison and went with this one. also i have all the pics on bradley's profile if you're curious 💁🏼‍♀️ he's just so goddamn cute! written for @roosterforme 's 'rocktober' event and inspired by the replacements song. don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉 [image template (x)]
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Your phone lit up with a notification, buzzing in its spot on your glass desk. You glanced down at it for a moment before going back to your slide deck - until it buzzed again. It was a Hinge notification. You hadn't been particularly active on the app the last couple days, not wanting to get your hopes up yet again. But you'd made one last ditch attempt on Hinge, liking some guys who were way out of your league - before telling Max he had the go-ahead to set you up with his buddy. Leaning back in your desk chair, you swiped up on the notification.
Oh. It was this one - the pretty one. Bradley.
You scrolled back through his profile one more time, reacquainting yourself with the 6'1" brunet. He had a picture cuddling a chunky French Bulldog, one at a Rolling Stones concert, one with an older guy who was probably his dad, and one where his eyes looked like pools of chocolate, in addition to his main photo. Unbidden, a smile crept across your face. He looked kind, sweet. Even if he didn't say where he worked.
Bradley, you tested the name out.
Without further delay, you pulled up his message:
Did you only like me because I also have a picture eating ice cream on my profile? I guess that means you're not lactose intolerant?
You let out a little giggle and twirled around in your desk chair. Oh, he was sweet (and a little nerdy). No, it's because you're unfathomably pretty and I didn't think you'd actually like me back. Trying not to overthink it, you typed out a response:
bold of you to assume it also wasn't the 'stache...and that i'm not just mainlining lactaid
It was cute, a little cheeky. He typed and deleted his response a couple times, leaving you on the edge of your seat.
How far do you have UVA going in MM this year?
You pursed your lips. Hmph. And went back to scrolling his profile. Ah, there it was - he'd also gone to UVA, though a couple years before you. He also drank, didn't smoke, and was vaccinated and bi. You swiped back to the chat.
Your allegiance to UVA in any sporting event wasn't exactly top of mind, so you had to check your March Madness bracket that everyone in the office had been forced to fill out for team building. Just has you were about to say Elite Eight! Bradley messaged back:
Sorry, that was really lame. I’m not used to this.
You smiled. that has to be a line...
His reply was instantaneous. It's not, I promise! Alright give me one more try. How's this?
In the background, your computer pinged with multiple Teams message notifications, but your eyes remained glued to your phone.
Did you know the moon's actually lemon shaped? And that the Milky Way apparently smells like raspberries and rum?
It was such a ridiculous and silly fun fact that it made you smile. Time to put all that barstool trivia knowledge to good use.
no, bradley, i did not know that. do you only specialize in space fun facts or can i get something else out of you...
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Turns out all it took was a smattering of the world's silliest fun facts to get you hooked, and after days of texting you were at the Hard Deck. The beachfront dive bar wasn't exactly your ideal first date location, but it seemed like there was a good crowd inside judging by the excessive number of the cars in the parking lot. As it was, your Uber let you out next to a pale blue Bronco. You smoothed your hands over your dress and checked your hair one final time before heading inside.
You didn’t really date. Not in the same sense that your friends Caroline and Darcy or even Alexa and Max did. The last person you’d gone out with for more than three dates had been your ex-boyfriend Jack and even that relationship fizzled after six months. 
But there was just something about him - about Bradley - that made you think this could be something? Something about Bradley made you giggle at your phone while you read his texts and buy a new dress and get a wax for your date. 
God, please like me. I hope he likes me.
The bell above the door jingled as you entered, suddenly taken aback not only by the amount of people in the bar, but also the Navy paraphernalia doting seemingly every usable surface. Jesus. Did Uncle Sam pay everyone's tab, too?
Scooting out of the way of another group entering behind you, you bit your lip and stretched your neck, looking around the bar for Bradley. What if he wasn't there? What if he saw you get out of your Uber in the parking lot and bailed? No - he wouldn't do that. The Bradley you had gotten to know over the last couple days sent you fun facts and his Wordle score. He asked about your projects at work and what you were having for dinner. He texted with full capitalization and punctuation. At the very worst, you'd hope you'd get an it's not you, it's me text from him.
But your worry was all for naught because when you got closer to the bar, you saw him. And by some sort of miracle he hadn't seen you yet, which gave you ample opportunity to ogle because you seriously needed a minute. God, he was so pretty. His hair looked lighter in person, not as brown, his arms looked so strong even in his unbuttoned light blue oxford, and that mustache? It worked. It really worked.
And he looked nervous? His knee was bouncing and he kept glancing down at the phone propped up on his knee. 7:33pm - you were late. You squared your shoulders and cleared your throat before closing the final few steps.
"Bradley?"
He spun around on his barstool at your voice. The abrupt motion caused him to almost drop his phone, but it made you smile. Once his eyes settled on you it was like everything stopped. The bar got quiet, you didn't notice the girl next to you complaining about her drink, and the hockey game on TV faded into the background - you just noticed Bradley.
A smile crept across his face as he said your name in turn and you nodded. Your stomach was going crazy with butterflies and your heart was pounding so hard, you were convinced Bradley could see the outline through your pink dress. His voice was warm and raspy and had your insides turning into honey.
"It's nice to see you - " He gave you a full hug that was over far too soon. God he smelled so good, too. "- Here, have a seat. Do you want a drink?"
"You too." You took his hand and got on the barstool, placing your clutch on the table and glancing around the bar. "Ummm, what're you having?"
"An old fashioned - sorry," he shook himself and glanced back down at his drink sheepishly, "you just look really pretty."
You cheeks warmed under his stare and you bit your lip. If your knee nudged his underneath the bar-top then that was just an accident. "Thanks, I'll uh - I'll have a margarita?"
Bradley was either really smart or really lucky when he ordered your margarita with your preferred tequila - you only had to pipe up to request salt on the rim.
And then it was just easy. Everything just fell into place. You talked about your time at UVA - he even got you to admit that you were a Tri-Delta after he admitted to being Sigma Chi philanthropy chair -your favorite restaurants and neighborhoods in San Diego, and your job, which Bradley endearingly thought was fascinating - something you wouldn't exactly agree with, but it was flattering all the same.
And it was only because of the easy conversation and banter between the two of you that you finally felt comfortable bringing up your most burning question all evening:
“So, what’s with the bar?” you asked, looking around with a teasing smile on your face. Bradley cocked his head. “I mean, is it just me or is like every naval officer within a forty mile radius here?”
And then the night took a turn...
don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉
a/n: so this was just something small to tide me over before i post my next fic about thanksgiving! hope you all liked it!
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skitariiposting · 7 months
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Skit's Mini Painting Journey Pt. 3
The Admech one.
C'mon, you all saw this one coming.
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Back when I was painting my nurgles purple, I wanted to do a similar color scheme for my Admech army. I slowly moved away from it however, as I didn't quite like the way it turned out. The green and purple look took to Nurgle well, but purple Admech on desert planets didn't make a whole lot of sense. Didn't stop me from trying though, and while they certainly didn't look bad, I'm glad I didn't stick with it.
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The Mars Pattern Family
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This little fella may look familiar! Here was my first attempt at a more traditional mars pattern skit, and a jawa-esque one to boot! This was a kitbash of a proper galvanic rifle and backpack being added to The Makers Cult's Lil' Recruit.
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I mean, Jawa admech is so amazing, but I had to have my little guy properly equipped!
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Continuing the Mars linage is a technopriest and engiseer, both TMC printed minis. I love the way these two look. The face-shield on the technopriest looks amazing, and I'm incredibly proud of the reflection on it. The OSL on the hand isn't very visible in the picture, but it also looks really good.
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This Thallax bot was supposed to be a Kastellan Bot for @elnubnub, however I got the two mixed up and picked the smaller one. I'm going to eventually remedy that, but he still looks good nonetheless.
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This is by and large one of my best pieces in my opinion. Back when @cannibalcaprine had a bird face, this model was more applicable. Dominus Hera has so much soul and time put into her I don't know if I'll ever be able to replicate the state of mind I was in that let me get this mini to look this good. The cloth effects are fantastic, the OSL from the gun is fantastic, the molten axe is fantastic, the color choices and layout is fantastic, the cables are fantastic; I don't know who painted this mini, but it certainly wasn't me. It couldn't have been.
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And the most important member of the Mars Pattern Family, the fan favorite: Goober. A kitbash gone wrong gone right. A broken mini finally becoming whole. The legend himself. What more is there to say?
Finally: The Submechanicum
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Penelope, the Ocean Queen. My first model I painted for the Submechanicus. I'd love to say that this is my magnum opus, considering I made a whole video about her and everything...
However, I must rip the band aid off and say that this is the first version of Penelope...
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Because what immediately followed her was this beast. This is the Krabaphron, another contender for one of my best models. This sucker was so genre defining, that it set a new standard for the rest of my Submechanicus army and would cause me to re-do my color-scheme and paint job planning going forward.
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I based all of my future Submechanicus models off of it, using it as a template. The Skits and Techpriest both got the same treatment and I've got to say, I'm in love with the way it looks. I've continued using this style so far and I haven't had to make many modifications.
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As such, Penelope... didn't quite fit the bill anymore. She stood out from the rest of the models.
So... after a livestream of planning and base layering...
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She was finally given the paint job she deserved.
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And that's just were our story begins fair traveler... With the rise of the Depth Guard, a proper protector of the Submechanicus will be needed to combat the forces of Nurgle... And coming late April, there will be such a machine surfacing, with a video to present it.
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Of course, this is quite an older photo. It's far more painted than that. I've teased photos of it so far, however I'm saving the proper display of it for the video, so be on the look out if you want to see the completed product!
And that's about it! Hope you've enjoyed this little walk down memory lane and gallery of my mini painting endeavors! I'll be making a website for easier viewing once I've gone through and gotten some more professional looking pictures done. Thank you for reading and viewing!
-Jerry
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ostrichmonkey-games · 2 months
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Ostrichmonkey Hack: Layout Behind the Scenes
Been procrastinating on this enough! So here is a look at some of the process and decisions that went into doing the layout for the Ostrichmonkey Hack.
Let's start with the goals I had in mind:
Keep it simple.
Keep it easy to make.
With those goals set, next step is gathering materials and resources (not all of this was done as cleanly as I'm making it out to be, but this is the gist).
Materials used:
Classic Explorer Template
Affinity Publisher and Photo
Fonts
Art
The text itself
The Classic Explorer Template was critical in getting this layout done efficiently, since it does a lot of the work for you. It's not a replacement for having a rough idea on how to do layout, but it can serve as a nice tutorial/explainer on different elements of layout and typesetting, and honestly, is worth its (digital) weight in gold. There's a free version available if you want to check out what it offers.
I use the Affinity Suite for my layout work. It's a nice set of programs with a manageable learning curve, but there are plenty of other alternatives so go with whatever works for you (one of my favorite elements of using multiple Affinity programs is that within Publisher, you can access both Designer (vector illustration) and Photo (photo editing, illustration etc) functions, which is just a nice workflow).
Here's what my setup looks like, with all the guidelines/base grid stuff turned on;
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Normally I start with some style tests and “sketches” to get a feel for what I want the layout to look like, but the Classic Explorer’s does a lot of that heavy lifting for me already so I get to skip this step for this project. Speed and efficiency is one of the main reasons I wanted to use the template - this was envisioned as a “I just need to get something done” kind of project.
So next up on getting it done, fonts!
There are lots of great places to get fonts from, just make sure you're getting them from legitimate sources. Do your homework and make sure that "free" font is actually free to use in commercial projects.
I pulled three fonts from the depths of my collection.
One for the title and main headers (Wallau Deutsch)
One for the second header (Rakkas)
One for the body text (PT Serif)
Technically a secret fourth font for some "bullet points" (1651 Alchemy)
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I picked these fonts out because they work together well and are readable. The title/main header fonts are comparatively less readable, but you can get away with that since headers are Big and used less frequently. The second header (Rakkas) is a nice middle ground between a full on blackletter font like the main header, and the classic-y serif of the body text. It creates a transition between the two fonts.
I used PT Serif since it was already in the template, but it also had the bold/italics versions I knew I would need, is readable at a variety of sizes, and had all the special glyphs I would need (it actually did not, but whoops, we'll get to that later).
Normally when I start layout, I do a quick "sketch page" where I try out different fonts and style tests that can look something like this;
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But that wasn't necessary for this project (another advantage of the using the template).
Now, let's get to some choices in formatting the text itself.
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Each time a key term came up, it was highlighted by bolding and italicizing it. Any time after that, it was just normal text. I went back and forth on highlighting it every single time, but the current format just looked cleaner so it won out.
Additionally, in several places in the text, rather than introducing a third header (which just broke up the page too much, disrupting the flow and clean look), I instead put what would have been the new third header (HP or WOUNDS in the above example) in all caps and behind a colon. This ended up not disrupting the text too much, and was only necessary a handful of times. But when it was necessary, I made sure to stay consistent. Consistent and organized formatting is one of the key ways to make your layout look nice and clean.
Aside from changing some font choices, one of the other ways I tweaked the template was with some spacing (between "sections", like in the above text, introducing an extra line break between the Attributes and Staying Alive sections) and the "bullet points".
The large bullet points that accompany the second headers are actually a glyph pulled from a different font. I picked that one out specifically because its just a little irregular and handwritten looking (1651 Alchemy is a handwritten styled font), and it also helped pull you to the start of new sections, further enhancing the second header. It helps make each section discrete and more "modular".
Back to extra spacing for a second now. So each "chapter" of the text uses the main header to designate it as a full "chapter".
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"Characters" up top there is one of those chapter headers. It's nice and big and special, and also takes up a good chunk of space. One a full spread, this also means that the second page of text begins higher up than the text on the first page (compare where Attributes starts vs where Dying starts).
I played around with the format of spreads that did not have a main chapter header on them, starting the first page text up toward the top to have it line up with the second page. Which, probably would have been totally fine, but I preferred the look when each spread had the same kind of spacing. But repeating the main header on each spread was too clunky. So the solution;
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Bam! A line!
Blank empty space looked too empty, but slapping a quick line there took up just enough visual space for it to work. Then, I carried that line-design-language to other places (to separate footnotes from the body text, within the tables, and sort of on the cover). This then made the line choice feel even more cohesive and purposeful.
And speaking of footnotes, that was another extra tweak/flourish I added not present in the template (the sidebars are part of the template, but sidebars rule so they would have happened regardless). The footnotes served as a way to share specific references as an informal "works cited". A lot of NSR/OSR design is super iterative, so I thought it would be cool to shout out some of the more direct inspirations and references I used when making my game.
But the footnotes were also kind of not really my downfall. Turns out PT Serif didn't seem to have all the necessary footnote glyphs, nor did it want to make proper superscripts of integers past 3. So, rather than trying to find a new body font (or deal with the headache of using a font solely for superscript notation), I just fudged the formatting some and stuck to asterisks, and restarting "numbering" on each spread. Oh well.
Let's now briefly touch on laying out tables.
It sucks.
My advice is find an example of a really nice looking table and then try and figure out what makes it look nice, and then doing that forever. Luckily, the template saves me again by including multiple examples of tables, ripe for tweaking. Which ended up looking like this;
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Nice and clean! Hooray!
Okay, there's a lot of small decisions that goes into making text properly formatted and look nice, but I skipped some of those decisions and didn't go ham on typesetting, but whatever. That all about covers the important parts regarding the text. Now let's talk about art.
Public domain art is your best friend.
I went and trawled through a bunch of art I've saved from the Met's Open Access collection (there's plenty of great open access collections out there, just happened to have some from the Met handy), and settled on this piece;
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Which I then dropped into Affinity Photo and played around until I ended up with this;
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Nothing too wild, but it Felt Right, so it's done.
I then immediately dropped that onto the cover page, slapped the title on, added a quick border (and also spent some time trying to fix some weird issues that ended up being solved by just rasterizing it, whoops) and bam;
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And that's the only art piece used throughout the zine! But I made the most out of it. Between each chapter, I had a single splash page and dropped in different zoomed/cropped versions of the art. Like so (and even on the back cover!);
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The original image was high resolution, so zooming in worked, plus the effects/distortions I created hid any imperfections.
So that's the art sorted and the zine finished!
Now, this is getting pretty long, so if there's anything anyone reading this is interested that I didn't touch on, shout in the notes!
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Mechanic!Sihtric NSFW alphabet
Note: HCs based on my mechanic fic: part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9 - part 10 - part 11 - part 12
This was actually so fun, because not much is known about him in this fic in this regard yet, so here you have it...
template source.
Warnings: 18+!! smut.
pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)
summary: -
wordcount: 2k
Masterlist
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A=Aftercare - What they do/act like after sex.
Sihtric will always immediately pull you in his arms and hold you tight while peppering you with soft kisses. He will check in with you, asking if you are feeling good and/or satisfied and then he will simply praise you by telling you how good you were for him. He will always apply some cooling lotion to ease your bruised buttocks after a spanking, and furthermore he'll provide you with anything you want; snacks, drinks, cuddles, watching a movie or simply reading to you from your favourite book while you're all snuggled up. It doesn't matter what time of the day it is, whatever his princess wants, he'll get for you (or something close to it). However, Sihtric also needs the reassurance himself that he has been good to you and didn't unintentionally cross a boundary.
B=Bondage - Are they into BDSM, and how far they’ll go if they have a green light.
Sihtric is open to the idea of bondage (and BDSM activities in general, apart from the things you already do) if you would be willing to try something and bring it up yourself. His priority is to make you feel safe and loved, so he would set clear boundaries for anything new you'd want to try and he also wants to know why you want to try certain things. Sihtric doesn't really have many limits when it comes to making you happy.
C=Cum - pretty self explanatory.
He'll cum preferably inside you. Sihtric thinks you're so breedable and he loves it. That doesn't mean he wants to get you pregnant as soon as possible though, but he just loves to see his cum run down your thighs when he helps you clean up.
D=Dom - Are they dominant, submissive, a switch?
Sihtric is a dom. A soft dom… a soft daddy dom to be more precise. He'll always keep you on your toes, because one moment he'll talk all sweetly to you and the next you'll be bent over his knee, made to count his spankings because you "broke" a rule or acted like a brat. And he'll talk sweetly to you during those punishments.
'Does that hurt, princess? Shh, I know, darling. But you forgot to keep counting, sweetheart, so now daddy has to start all over again.'
E=Edgeplay - Similar to ‘Kinks’ except it’s a lot riskier than usual kinks (knifeplay, breathplay, etc.).
Sihtric is not into edgeplay, but will consider it if you'd ask him. He'd do a ton of research beforehand to make sure he knows exactly how to perform it safely. And once again he will set clear boundaries, because he would never want to put his princess in danger or cause any serious discomfort.
F=Fantasy - A fantasy of theirs (ex: a teacher/student fantasy).
Sihtric would really like it if you'd put on some of those fluffy cat ears and a cute mini skirt for him, just because he thinks you'd look adorable wearing that while he gives you a good spanking, before teasing and edging you until you cry. And then he'll fuck you while you're still wearing those ears and that short skirt.
G=Got Caught - How they react when they get caught having sex.
He would lose his shit. For real. He'd go feral. Sihtric does not like to take risks like that. He is protective and a little possessive, although he tries to tone that down as much as he can. But he would never want anyone to see you in the act of having sex with him; because seeing you like that is only for his eyes and ears.
H=Hot Spots - A place that drives them crazy when stimulated (EX: neck).
He's a guy, of course he gets aroused when you touch or kiss his neck. He also loves it when you hold and kiss his hands, because his hands are so big compared to yours and he likes that. He likes that you're smaller to him, so he can easily pick you up and throw you in bed.
I=Intimacy - How romantic they are, or can be, before, during, or after sex.
Sihtric is quite romantic in general (loves to buy you flowers for example and take you on bike rides during a nice sunset), but during sex there's not much romance going on. Your dom/sub dynamic doesn't really call for that, but that doesn't mean it's not an intimate feeling, because it truly is romantic in a different way.
J=Journey - Their ideal way of leading up to sex.
Once your dom/sub relationship is fully established, Sihtric wants you to behave in order for you to get rewarded. He has an app which he shares with you where you can tick off things you've done during the day in order to show good behaviour, for example; drinking enough water and eating enough. He loves seeing you cross off the "tasks" you did, knowing you're taking care of yourself, and it makes his oil smudged overalls fit rather tightly around his crotch area when he knows you're being a good girl for him. However, Sihtric also gets aroused when you did not do what he asked you to take care of yourself, because he knows he'll get to punish his princess next time he sees you, and that arouses him too.
K=Kinks - I’ll list a few of their kinks, be they the normalized ones or kinkier kinks.
He loves spanking, edging and hair pulling. But the spanking and edging he only enjoys performing on you, he doesn't mind getting his hair pulled. Sihtric is a bit of a sadist too as he gets off by seeing the tears roll down your face when you're being punished for your "bad behaviour". He only enjoys it because he knows there is a safeword agreed upon and that you will use it when you are truly not having fun anymore. But he's very careful to not cross that line. He enjoys his daddy dom role with you, as it's more a lifestyle; a secret lifestyle between the two of you actually. He simply loves to praise you and to be your dominant, taking care of you and making you feel loved, but he also needs to feel that you are always there for him too when needed.
L=Location -  Where they like to have sex at, do they like risky locations, etc.
Anywhere private is fine. He doesn't mind a more public place, like the repair shop for example, but he'll only have sex with you there when he's sure you won't get caught and the place is locked up.
M=Masturbation - How they are when they get themselves off, what they get themselves off to.
You and Sihtric eventually agreed to have a rule that you won't touch yourselves, and will only be pleased by each other. However, sometimes you break this rule and that means spankings (Sihtric always finds out because you can't lie… and because he may or may not walk in on you touching yourself from time to time. He'll watch you silently in the door, only to clear his throat and startle you when you just finished). Sihtric is good at keeping his hands off himself, because he knows it'll feel so much better when he's with you than doing it himself. The only exception is if you two are apart for a long time for whatever reason, but then you'll still facetime each other in the process.
N=NO - A few things that they will absolutely, under no circumstances, ever do.
He would never cross a boundary you have set and he would never ignore a safeword. Sihtric is all about wanting to make you feel safe.
O=On’s - Their top turn on’s that they have (things that’ll get them super horny super quickly).
Sihtric is easily turned on, it really doesn't take much, a simple touch will do it. A maybe more strange turn on is that he also loves it when you ask him for help, for example with simple tasks around the house, or when you ask him to order food for you. Knowing his girl needs his help and trusts him is a big turn on for him.
P=Position -  Their favourite position to have sex in.
Sihtric doesn't really have a favourite position, he enjoys it in every possible way. He does prefer to be able to see your face when you're on the verge of tears though, because he likes to see you enjoy him so thoroughly.
Q=Quickie - Do they like it, do they prefer quickies over actual sex, etc.
Sihtric prefers actual sex over a quickie, but he'll never say no to a quickie in the morning just before he heads off to work. It'll surely put him in a good mood.
R=Rough - How rough they are, or get, when in bed.
Sihtric can be pretty rough, but all within the agreed upon boundaries though.
'Remember I love you, princess, because I'll fuck you like I don't love you.'
S=Stamina - How long they can go before they tap out.
Sihtric lasts surprisingly long for someone who mainly lifts weights in the gym and doesn't always do much cardio. He can go for several rounds, but he'll need a moment to recover obviously. If anyone taps out it's you, because you're overstimulated.
T=Toys - Do use toys, do they own them, what kind, etc.
Sihtric loves using toys on you, but not on himself. He loves to tease you with a vibrator until you can't take it anymore, only to then fuck you until you're screaming his name. And after that he'll wipe your tears and take you out for an ice cream.
U=Unfair - How much they tease you, how they tease you, etc.
He loves to tease you with risky texts during the day, but he also loves teasing you when you're with him just to see how worked up you get. It doesn't matter if it's in public, he'll tease you discretely until you're begging him to go home and take care of it. He'll whisper praises to you about how pretty you look and how he can't wait to take off your clothes later, while lightly trailing his fingers over your arms and back while you're out having a drink somewhere or are simply waiting in line at the grocery store.
V=Volume - How loud they get when having sex, things they might say, etc.
As a soft dom, Sihtric mainly wants to hear the pretty sounds you make for him, therefore he will try to bite back his own moans. Instead of shouting out how good you feel or how well you're taking him, he will whisper it all in your ear, knowing that it will only make you louder.
W=Wild Card - a random letter for the character of your choice.
Sihtric is totally into hentai.
X=X-Ray - How they look with their clothes off.
His body is scarred, but he looks perfect regardless, and luckily nothing down there got damaged in that crash ;)
Y=Yearning - How often they need to have sex.
Sihtric needs at least one quickie every day, he's horny like that. However, if you haven't behaved for him he is willing to torture himself for a day or two, just to punish you and make you beg for him eventually. But don't be fooled, because he is a needy dom too, and when he is desperate for you he'll let you know.
Z=ZZZ - How quickly they fall asleep after having sex.
He's absolutely awake after a quickie in the morning, but after longer sex in the evening he'll doze off rather fast. Only after making sure you are all cleaned up and feeling okay of course. He will never fall asleep without making sure you are feeling happy and safe.
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Oh my goodness - I love your writing, I haven’t stopped reading your stuff over the last couple days!!
Absolutely LOVE your new perv!Eddie x camboy!Steve - it’s absolute filth and I’m living for every second of it! The whole “pretty boy is small”, it’s so different and it has me feral, I’m I’m here for it all day and I’m almost sorry. And I know you said mentioned Eddie’s size - but imagine with me for a second this idea…
He’s a ✨big boy✨. Not necessarily long, but he’s thick and he doesn’t realise he’s bigger than average because he’s inexperienced. But then when pretty boy sees it… gets all whiny cause it puts a couple of his toy to shame.
Pretty boy needs two hands to stroke all of him; jaw is aching before he’s swallowed all of him; and the stretch…. The ✨stretch✨!!!!
(Totally understand if this was not your thing, or the direction you were hoping for this fic)
PT. 1 of the camboy!steve/perv!eddie fic on ao3
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UM NO NO THIS IS ABSOLUTELY MY THING THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS IN, I WILL ACCEPT MORE OF YOUR THOUGHTS AT ANY TIME......I'M DROOLING OVER HERE JUST GIVE ME A SECOND 🤤🤤🤤
okay now that i'm more composed *clears throat* let's explore this wonderful idea of yours together :)
(also i'm so glad you said this bc i've had monstercock munson on the brain for a while now so this just really hits the ball out of the park for me)
steve's been doing this camboy gig for a while now.
it's gone pretty well for him--all things considered. he makes a decent living off of it. he likes the attention. he gets to chat with cute strangers.
receiving unwarranted dick pics in his inbox comes with the territory.
he's seen everything under the sun in terms of variation in girth, length, color, cut/uncut, piercings, tattoos, hairy, clean shaven, etc. most arrive with no message at all or something like, 'i'm so hard 4 u.'
when he first started out and was trying to amass a following, he'd respond to every single one (no matter how gross or weird the messages got).
he'd take on the bratty bottom role--that he's since mastered--and numb any part of him that might have been too disgusted to continue. replying with a short and sweet comment like:
'hmm hot, but i've had bigger down my throat.'
'looking good, handsome. do you think you could handle me?'
'i'll cockwarm you until you're crying and calling me 'mommy.' '
however, as time passed and his following grew, steve realized he didn't have to respond to all of his messages if he didn't want to.
each week, he'd scroll through his overflowing inbox, select a handful at random, have a laugh at the desperate behavior occurring on the other side of the screen, and respond with one of his pre-set templated replies before automatically deleting the rest.
that was, until he met eddie munson over a quick video-call and realized keeping his emotions separate from his job was going to be much more challenging than he'd previously anticipated.
it's a friday night. steve finished his stream a few hours ago, got thai food for dinner with his best friend--robin--at their favorite local spot, and is attempting to wind down for the evening.
but, it's no use.
he's horny. his mind is an impure palace of need. his hands trail over his chest and tease the sensitive buds of his nipples while he tries to focus on the netflix documentary he picked at random.
steve's little dick throbs in his silk pajama shorts where he lays beneath the pink sheets, tossing and turning, with only one person on his mind.
his cock's wet between his legs--head slick and dripping down his hairy thigh with all the filthy ideas of what he'd like to do to eddie munson if he ever gets the chance to meet him in person.
he has no idea what eddie's working with physically. he can only imagine what may hide behind the confines of that shredded black denim.
not that steve really cares about the size of eddie's dick. in the grand scheme of things, he likes him and that's plenty. but, it is something he wonders about from time to time. especially recently.
see--steve's thought process goes a little something like this:
if eddie's as small as he is or even smaller, so be it. he'll teach him everything he knows about pleasure, frotting, edging, and more.
if eddie's average, like he claims to be, steve won't mind. average is perfectly fine with him. he'll be easy to swallow down and impress. he'll be easy to ride in a multitude of positions.
from what steve had seen of his personality, he can't exactly imagine eddie being huge.
he's a self-proclaimed loser, halfway through his twenties and still a virgin, wears graphic t-shirts with anime characters on them and has one of those intense gamer-boy headsets.
horneir than he's been in a while, steve rolls onto his stomach and grinds into his bed to try to relieve the tension building at his core.
he grips the sides of his pillow, cutely tucks his chin into the plush softness, and mouths at the fabric while he rolls his hips in grinding circles.
steve loves making out.
he loves making out with cock even more.
mouthing over a cute boy's boxers until he just can't take it anymore and cums in his pants. steve would bet money that he could make eddie cum in his pants that way. he'd pull up his jeans for him after and make him spend the rest of the day walking around town just like that. messy, deplorable, and sticky in all the right places.
steve makes himself cum in under a minute. images of eddie whining and calling him 'mommy' in muffled tones dancing like sugar plums around his delusional head. he soaks through the silk fabric of his pajama shorts and watches as a damp spot blooms in the middle.
he giggles to himself. smiles softly.
wonders if eddie would have any interest in sucking on the soiled material while steve sucks him off...
usually, he'd go right to sleep after one round, but his cock is still aching with curiosity despite orgasming, so he lazily stretches to reach for his laptop and grabs it from the nightstand.
coincidentally, he makes the split second decision to check his inbox before navigating to his favorite porn site 'lovebunny.com.'
he's planning on just clearing out the messages as he usually does, when something catches his eye and his heart skips a beat, runs a marathon, and ends up trapped in his throat where he wants the sender's dick to be asap.
to: prettyboy86
from: ethebanished
sent at 10:53 p.m.
hey steve,
hope ur having a good night.
idk why i'm sending you this. sorry. i've never sent anything like this to anyone before. bc i'm a virgin and i've never had the opportunity, but um. here it is. my dick...if u were interested in seeing it?
it's not much. probably looks small compared to what u normally see. idk. i'm also kinda high rn and my friend gareth is in the next room and he told me not to do this, but i thought maybe u would like it?
excited for ur stream tomorrow. i tried pineapple on pizza last night bc u said it's ur favorite. not bad. i actually rlly liked it.
'night,
eddie m.
attachment: 6edf45lp.jpg
steve's throbbing.
he's got a hand--he only needs one--around the entire length of his cock and he's twisting tightly around the head as he downloads the image to his computer and waits for the file to open.
he's vocal.
he's considerably vocal.
he's tipsy off of a couple glasses of rose from dinner and he's arching his back like he does when he's on camera, but this time it's genuine.
'gonna show mommy your cock, baby?' he moans highly as the image loads and he strokes himself faster, 'that's it. that's a good boy. mommy's pussy wants to milk you dry. drink up all your big boy cum for you. oh--such a good boy for me--you can handle it. deep breaths while i make you feel good, sweet thing. almost there, hold still for mommy-'
a jumble of random pixels becomes a full picture and steve harrington is a mewling, whimpering, slutty mess.
he's fucking his hand, he's rolling his balls between his palms, he's taste testing the last batch of cum that he squirted all over the inside of his tiny pink shorts. he's rubbing it up and down his shaft like lube. shoving some in his ass with two fingers, clenching hard, and closing his eyes so he can pretend eddie munson just finished inside him. pervy little virgin would cum so quick.
the picture is fucking perfect.
eddie's standing in front of--what looks to be--a bathroom mirror. the lighting's shit, but steve can see clearly enough. his red and black checkered pants sit around his upper thighs. unzipped and tugged down--chains dangling. eddie's holding his fat dick in one hand and snapping the photo on his phone with the other.
it's huge. it's practically unreal. wider than any of the toys steve has in his collection. his own hand doesn't fit around it and it's long enough to rest a solid few inches above his belly button. steve's horny brain tells him that the slap it would make against his abdomen would probably be quite loud.
there's a vein running from the underside of his shaft to the tip and the whole thing is dusky pink like his nipples. his balls are round, perky, relatively hairless. there's a thicket of dark hair that starts at his navel and spreads out over his pelvis. his v-line is defined and there's a tattoo steve can't make out on his hip. he's biting his lip and steve can't tell if it's because he's nervous or thinks it's sexy, but it's working for him either way.
it's everything he could have ever wanted.
he's so gone. he's babbling filth and cumming onto his keyboard which is going to be a nightmare to clean up, but who cares? one of his mindless followers will buy him a new one if he complains about it loud enough with a glittery dildo up his ass.
'mommy's never taken cock that big, baby. you're gonna have to be careful, give it to me nice and slow. oh it's so fucking big,' he groans thumbing at his slit like it's a clit, hard and fast, 'mommy's gonna have to keep you away from all the other boys so no one else finds out what a fat cock you have hiding in there. mmm. if only they knew, but i'll never let them because i'm gonna trap you in my pussy and cockwarm you until you promise to be mine.'
when he cums for the final time, he kisses the screen. licks it clean and saves the picture to a folder he has labeled 'work.' the nastiest part of him wants to make it his screensaver, but if eddie ever found out, he'd likely never talk to steve or watch his stream again and he can't risk that.
'you and i are going to have so much fun together,' he says before falling asleep with his laptop on his stomach and eddie munson's cock watching over him like an angel from a very sexy realm.
thanks for reading ! feedback is greatly appreciated so please let me know what you think if you enjoyed this one 🥰
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can u write about Wilson reminding little House of drinking and eating and generally taking care of himself? cuz I struggle with that
- @tummy-rubs-for-wilson-pup
One self-care fic coming right up!
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Word Count: 977
Summery: To encourage House to do the self-care tasks he neglects or forgets about, Wilson pulls an idea from a parenting magazine. A sticker chart.
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“…And where did you hear about this again?” House asked, unenthusiastically leafing through the packs of colourful stickers. “It better not have been one of those shitty parenting magazines.”
“It was! They’re very helpful actually. 20 Tips for Raising Kind Kids, 10 Ways to Curb Temper Tantrums, Experts Recommend 13 Healthy Meals for Snacktime, it’s thrilling stuff.” Wilson said. He grabbed a package of markers and tossed them into the basket. “You like any of these?”
The particular article that brought them to the dollar store that day had been Making Self-Care Fun! 5 Ideas for Your Reluctant Child, and as he watched House drag his feet through the store, reluctant certainly was one of the words that came to mind. Everyone in House’s personal life knew that he didn’t subscribe to the “farce” that was self-care. He stayed awake for days on end, he rarely ate anything of substance, constantly chugged coffee and energy drinks to keep himself going, and oh yes, the Vicodin. 
At work he had an excuse, even if it was a lazy one. He had a job to do. But when he was regressed it was different. It was less that House didn’t want to look after himself so much as he didn’t want to be told what to do, or just forgot to completely. So when he came across an article praising the wonders of a self-care sticker chart he figured it couldn’t hurt to give it a try.
House scoffed. “How did we ever survive as a species without tabloid parenting advice?” He pulled a packet of cartoon fairy princess stickers off their hook. “What about these? I think they match my personality.”
Before he could put them back Wilson snatched them from his hand and dropped them in the basket. “I agree. Anything else?”
House gave him a searching look, then smirked and scanned the rack again. He picked out two more sticker packs; one farm animals and the other space-themed and added them to the basket. “Just those. Oh, and one Hot Wheels. I think they’re in the next isle.”
Wilson rolled his eyes. “Yes, my liege.” And off to the next isle they went.
-
Once they got back to the apartment they set to work on the chart. Or rather, Wilson set to work on the chart and House “helped” by stealing the markers he needed to doodle. The design was simple; a large flip booklet of paper with the same drawn chart template of tasks with little pictures for each one. Eat a snack, drink water, brush teeth, and take a shower or bath. 
The idea, according to the article, was to encourage your child to do chores or tasks with small rewards like stickers. After filling up a row of the chart with stickers, the child would earn a promised big reward like ice cream or a trip to the zoo. In turn, the child would want to do the tasks to earn the rewards and would be more willing to do them. Of course the writers of the article had never met House, but he was willing to test their hypothesis.
Speaking of House, he seemed to be either regressed or regressing actively. His doodles, which he was intensely focused on, were becoming less detailed, his grip on the marker clumsy and awkward, and his good leg was swinging back and forth under his chair. With the chart complete, Wilson got up and propped it up on the counter and opened the cupboard.
“Do you want to earn a sticker?” 
House looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked. Instead of unimpressed, his expression looked genuinely curious. Definitely little. Wilson tossed him a granola bar, which he unwrapped and slowly took a bite of, watching him like it was a test and he wanted to make sure he was getting the answer right.
Wilson grabbed the package of fairy stickers, peeled off a magic wand, and stuck it in the first “Eat a Snack” box. “There. Once you get five of each, we can do something big.”
Now House was intrigued. “Like what?”
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“Mmm… museum.” He said, mouth full of granola.
“I think we can make that happen.”
-
Over the next few weeks, the sticker chart had become a regular part of Little-House’s day. Of course because it was House there were some kinks to work out along the way. He had almost immediately began trying to find loopholes in the system, first by placing stickers on the chart while Wilson wasn't looking and then by trying to do the tasks five times all at once to catch Wilson on a technicality, which he had only found out about after catching House brushing his teeth for the fourth time in an hour. They’d had to make two rules: One sticker per task per day, and Wilson got control of the stickers. But after that, he caught on quickly. After a week, Wilson hardly needed to prompt tasks anymore. House would just get a snack, or ask for a sippy cup of water, or Wilson’s personal favourite, walk past him and breathe minty-fresh morning breath into his face and ask for a sticker. The only task he still needed to prompt were baths, but he expected that. House was like a cat when it came to baths.
Until one morning when a House practically shook him awake, and Wilson opened his eyes blearily to House’s face just centimetres from his.
“Make a bath.” He demanded, then added a quick, “Please.”
Wilson blinked at him. “…What? House, what time is it?”
“Morning, and time for a bath. I only need one more sticker, c’mon Wilson!” He pouted, shaking him again.
Wilson groaned and sat up to stretch. “Alright, alright… Go get your bath toys, I’ll be there in a second.”
House was already off the bed and making his way to the bathroom. “Hurry up! We gotta museum to go to!”
Wilson chuckled. Thank you, shitty parenting magazines.
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gffa · 11 months
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hiya! long time listener, first time caller-- I'm writing a couple fics with Jedi protagonists (Shaak Ti, Mace, other Prequel Jedi) which is really fun so far except for the part where I "majored in" (read: hyperfixated on) Organization and Tactics of the GAR and don't actually know that much about the Jedi as individuals, *especially* anything that happened before TPM.
I was wondering if you know of any resources that organize/compile information about that era of Jedi? Things like lineage lists, who was on the Council when, typical schedules/roles/responsibilities, that kinda thing. Resources can be any format; other Tumblr blogs, articles, images, discord servers, archived websites, whatever works! Even the obvious stuff can be helpful (outside of Wookiepedia), since this isn't a part of fandom I've walked through much. You're the only big-name Jedi blog I know.
(If you don't have the spoons to respond, I understand, thanks for reading anyway!)
Hi! Congrats on writing your fic, I'm wishing you all the luck in the world! And here's where my brain starts spinning in a bunch of different directions, because here's the sticky thing about Star Wars "lore": there are three separate continuities and, while you are absolutely free to mix and match as you like and should pick out all the things that interest you, no matter the continuity, they do still exist in separate realms. You have Lucas' Star Wars, you have Legends Star Wars (the Extended Universe/EU under Lucas' ownership of SW, but he has explicitly said it's a separate world from his Star Wars), and you have Disney Star Wars. There is worldbuilding in each of them (though, often very thin on the ground at times) but what's true in one isn't going to be true in another--for example, in Legends there was an age cut off for Jedi initiates at 13, if they didn't get a Master. This limit does not exist at all in Lucas' SW (is contradicted by Ahsoka at 14 being said to be YOUNG for being a Padawan) and Disney Star Wars (there's an Initiate who is 16 and doesn't have a Master and will have to wait at least another year to try again, with no hint of them aging out). You pick which works for you! Just that I think it helps to be aware of what bits come from which continuity. There's also not a ton of pre-TPM content, at least not after The High Republic! Though, I've found THR stuff generally pretty helpful for prequel-era Jedi stuff, because they act and behave 98% of the same way imo! THAT SAID, I tend to collate as much of the Lucas continuity and Disney continuity (as they're the ones I generally prefer) and I have a bunch of resources if you don't mind some homework reading! 😂 I did at least make it as easy to browse as I can, though! - Jedi Culture and Teachings in Canon - A mix of Lucas and Disney content mostly, organized by sections for hopefully easier browsing for what you're looking for! Because 75k words of citations is a lot. orz This is going to give you probably the most of what you want, because I have been working to collect all of that kind of stuff--descriptions of the Temple and personal quarters, any rituals they have, how a Jedi's day is structured, what different paths and roles are common with Jedi, all the Jedi philosophy, what kind of pets they have, etc. It's in three (so far) parts, so you'll have to browse through each of them, but the set-up is the same in each one, so if you find a section that you need the info on, just Ctrl+F to find it in the next part or skip to the same chapter, they're the same template for each! - My "reference" tag - Which is a mixed bag of various posts and different continuities (primarily Lucas + Disney, though) that organize this kind of thing, like a possible in-universe calendar system [also here], a collection of worldbuilding bits specific to Padawan, which was pre-TPM, crossection of the Jedi Temple, a Jedi Council seating arrangement chart through the years, a list of the handful of Master&Apprentice match-ups that we know, a list of "what kind of swearing do people of the galaxy do?" because it's hilarious, a compilation of everything I could find about Jedi healers in ANY continuity, etc. I hope this helps and if you have any other questions (or anyone else wants to suggest other resources!), feel free to ask, I might be able to better steer you if you have a specific question--or at least tell you that I don't think we have anything on that. AND ALSO just remember: the books and games and comics are pretty low on the "hard canon" level, the movies and the TV shows are the highest level of canon, everything else is supplementary and you do NOT have to scour every inch of it if you don't want to! Relax and have fun with it as best you can. <3
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knightowl-studios · 11 months
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“This is a warning for Kray Foresight - free all captive Burnish immediately, or I’ll burn Promepolis to the ground!”
Many hours, layers, micromanaged bg assets, and egregious amounts of colorpicking later, it is finally done //passes out
As soon as I watched Promare I was legally obligated to draw the dragon.
Please do not reupload without permission!
(Very ramble-y) process notes and wips below the cut:
[[Shoutout to Tamberella’s wonderful city brushset, the bg would not have been possible otherwise!]]
I had to cross-reference so many stills and gifs from the movie in order to try and recreate the atmosphere and style XD This whole drawing was also the perfect excuse to whip out the polyline tool again, it’s one of my favorite things to draw with but I don’t actually use it much for...some reason lmao.  Habit?  Who knows...
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As you can see, it was initially supposed to include his lil arms, but I couldn’t find a way to make them flow well with his line of action and had to exclude them (which was a bit painful as I was really happy with how the claw shapes turned out).  I figured since the film seems to cheat it the same way, it was fine for me to do it as well XD Though I don’t have a capture of it, originally his body was also in a more straightforward loop-de-loop kind of shape.
I wanted to put special focus into the pose and sense of action (two things Trigger really excels at), namely when it came to the head and jaws.  I noticed that in a couple of shots the dragon’s jaw is “broken” - opened at an unrealistically wide angle - to better emphasize the action, and while I didn’t take it as far as Trigger did I wanted to try and capture something similar in my own way.
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The windows required SO much micromanaging.  I blocked out a “template” of windows using one of the brushes in the mentioned set, grid-warped it to align with the perspective, and then copy-pasted it onto each building and then manually went through each one to make sure every patterns of “lit” windows was unique and felt believable.  The process had to be repeated twice, for both visible sides of the buildings.  As far as individual parts of the pic go, that step probably took the longest.
I also really wanted to somehow incorporate triangles into the drawing since they’re so representative of the Burnish and the Promare, and adding some around the face seemed the most intuitive way to do it.
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A lot of miscellaneous things were added at this point, such as the ground flares (polyline tool my beloved), the smoke, and smaller details like making sure the dragon felt more “sourced” in the scene by clipping the tail behind a tower.  The background was also blurred, to help sell the perspective as well as keep the focus on Lio.  The flares were one of the hardest things to manage in the latter regard, too, as due to some oversights in my initial color choices they were actually brighter than Lio and stole his thunder!  So it took several different tries to find a way to successfully de-emphasize them without inadvertently making them some weird sickly color XD
If you read through all of these notes, thank you so much, I love you!!  //hands you a cookie
Bonus layer screenshot:
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How Much World Building is Too Much?
Anonymous asked: This question is on behalf of my cousin who came to me for advice. When he has an idea, he writes the most detailed worldbuilding EVER, designs the characters and has a general idea of how the story will go, but then when he starts writing he does maybe 2 chapters and it dies. I, on the other hand, do ZERO worldbuilding ahead of time (I don't need much) and end up finishing 80% of what I start out to write. How do you know how much worldbuilding is enough? How do you keep from spending so much time planning that by the time you get to writing, you don't know where you're going with the actual story? I want to help him but our styles are so different, I don't know where to start.💔
(Ask edited for length...)
I identify with your cousin a lot, because this is often how my stories go. I'm first inspired by a place, or the idea of a place, and everything sort of grows out from there. In my early days, I would also pour everything into world building and character creation, only to find myself falling flat with the story. And a big part of that, I learned, was that I didn't really understand how stories worked. It was easy to build a world and set up characters, but since I didn't understand story structure, I didn't understand how to flesh out the nugget of a story idea I had to go with that setting.
So, one thing you might do is try to get a feel for where your cousin is in that respect. You can start by asking pointed questions about the potential plot, and if he doesn't have answers already, it will help guide him in that direction. Some questions I would ask:
1 - Who is your protagonist? What is their "normal world" life like before things are turned upside down with the inciting incident?
2 - Who and what is important to your protagonist? (Stakes)
3 - What past experiences have led to them being who they are now?
4 - What needs to change about your protagonist's life, beliefs, or values?
5 - What happens to turn your protagonist's world upside down? (Inciting incident) Who (or what) causes this to happen? (Antagonistic force)
6 - How does this affect your protagonist specifically, and what goal do they decide to pursue in order to resolve the problem?
7 - What steps does your protagonist plan to take in order to reach their goal? What knowledge, skills, resources, or help must they acquire in order to achieve their goal?
8 - What obstacles does the antagonistic force create that the protagonist must overcome on their way to the goal?
9 - How do the events of the story help to change your protagonist's life circumstances, beliefs, or values for better or worse? How will they change by the end of the story?
10 - How does your protagonist face off against the antagonistic force, attempting to defeat them once and for all in order to reach their goal? Are they successful? What is the aftermath and how is the character's world/life changed--for better or worse--as a result of these events?
If your cousin can answer these questions, they'll have a reasonably well fleshed out plot that should help carry them through the story. How little or much planning of the plot ahead of time they need is something they'll need to discover over time, but if the above isn't enough to help them get through the story, they might want to go back and flesh out the specific plot points. You can point them in the direction of my post Creating a Detailed Story Outline, which suggest several different story structure templates they can look at to help them coax out the specific plot points of their story. And, bear in mind that story structure templates do not have to be followed exactly. They're just a guide to help you flesh out the story. Many writers like to combine different elements of different plot structures as a loose guide as they write their stories.
I hope this helps!
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box-architecture · 2 months
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I was rereading some of your stuff on Ao3, and went “huh. I know Sapnap kidnaps Dream out of a misguided idea of what’s happening at one point, but how does that all go? How did Dream react? What was Sapnap like?”
So now I’m asking you. At 12:20 am. I have class in 7.5 hours!
Okay so we're going to ignore how long this has been sitting in my drafts, half answered. Okay? Okay. Awesome
-
So at some point during the Discovery Of Many Kinks (because when you're having a weird poly relationship with your former Warden, you're going to try a bunch of different things. For Science) awesamdrunz attempt to do a sex tape. It gets left around and found within like three days. By Sapnap.
So of course because of burning curiosity he has to watch the mysterious tape to see whats on it.
Then the only reason he kept watching was shock and also trying to figure out who the hell the third person was, why they looked familiar but also what the hell happened to them. Fun ways to find out your former best friend wasn't lying when he said he was horrifically tortured by your kind-of finance: finding his sex tape.
And listen, originally it was a fun crack idea to have him see this relationship nonsense where awesamdrunz was basically fucking in sex dungeons (made by Sam) after kidnappings, and decided that this was actually a really good template to fix his own relationship. He ends up trapping Quackity and Karl in what might be a previously unused sex dungeon!
(Resounding success: both of his boyfriends did not murder each other (due to bars in between them) and even spoke to each other in order to escape. This is the most progress he's had in months.)
But then! Alternate Idea! Sapnap sees the sex tape and (honestly not unfairly given his prior knowledge) believes Punz & Sam are at minimum, pressuring Dream into this relationship, and somehow this is a worse crime than murder. No wonder Dream couldn't stay in the prison! (Which. Not inaccurate.) So Sapnap sets about needing to find and protect Dream.
Sapnap finds Dream, and tries to convince him that he'll protect him. Dream is confused about what Sapnap saw, and has a tough time refuting anything. He also does really miss his friend. So he,,, doesn't really fight when Sapnap takes him to a secondary location.
-
"The windows are nice. Not as defensible, but you'll know if the enemy approaches." Dream commented, staring at the cloud-covered sea.
Sapnap laughed nervously, pulling open kitchen cupboards. "Yeah, I don't know. There shouldn't be any way for someone to find us out here though; its not like I told anyone where we were going."
Dream pursed his lips, but said nothing, eyes following the way the waves crashed against the shitty boardwalk Sapnap cobbled together half asleep. He figured Dream wouldn't want to be cooped up in the cottage all the time, not after… everything, so they could go sit out on the beach and fish, maybe, or go look for seashells. They hadn't built a sandcastle since they were kids, either, so it would definitely be something fun to try. Just like old times.
The wheat was crumbling in his hands, so Sapnap quickly tossed it on the counter.
"Are you hungry?" He called out, trying for a bit more cheer. Dream's gaze pulled to his, and Sapnap began pulling more ingredients out on the granite. "I know I'm not usually the person who cooks, but I've been getting into it lately! I made rabbit stew for Karl the other day, and he didn't even make a face when he was chewing."
He didn't really think about the potatoes as he dumped them into the sink, but he did notice the way Dream flinched, drawing in on himself and towards the doorway.
"Dream?"
"Just…" Dream looked back out into the sea. His fingers, what remained of them, dug into the fabric of his pants. "Nothing with potatoes. Please."
Sapnap felt his anxiety roll like the tide.
"Yeah, dude, that's cool. Doesn't sound appealing right now anyway." He said uncertainly. Dream's shoulders relaxed marginally, but Sapnap still felt off. "Anything you're in the mood for, though? Beet soup? Cheese sandwich?"
"Whatever you cook is fine." Dream reassured him. A brittle, but teasing edge appeared in his smile. "Unless you somehow got worse at baking bread."
He had, but god forbid would he ever admit to that. He grinned, and sat up on the counter. "Oh, like you're so good at it. I tried your stupid 'Everything' bread, and it tasted like ash."
"You turned off the timer and it burned."
"Well maybe next time don't leave random timers on the oven and expect anyone to know what they're for."
"Maybe next time you should assume its there for a reason and not touch it." Dream said in exasperation. Sapnap stuck his tongue out, and Dream threw his hands up, exiting the kitchen. He was so dramatic, Sapnap thought fondly.
-
Its a lot of Sapnap attempting to reestablish their previous connection and realizing how much Dream has changed, and staring at the scars when he thinks Dream isn't looking. He gets Super Protective and promises he wont let anything else happen to him. Dream is instinctively upset (why now, why does it matter now, why do you care, I am Perfectly Fine) but its one of his People and he is So Tired.
Sapnap is sorta kinda keeping Dream with him. It's not exactly against Dream's will, but it's also like, if Dream could walk out the door and come back later without Sapnap freaking out he'd rather do that. But Sapnap is freaking out, and seems to believe that there is a credible threat against Dream if he leaves. Given Sapnap's previous relationship with Quackity, Dream is willing to believe he might know something and that alone makes him anxious enough that he wants to stay.
Sapnap gets more horrified the longer he's with Dream (Dream flinches under his touches, his fingers are gone, Dream makes a snide comment about Quackity when Sapnap asks about the scars,) and this only convinces him more that clearly he needs to be protecting Dream. Sapnap expresses a lot of fury towards Sam, and Dream doesn't have any good arguments against it. There's a lot of stuff that he just sorta, decided to ignore, and now that coming back up is messing with him.
They get into a brief yelling match when Dream gets tired of what he presumes is pity and fake behavior, and it ends with Sapnap holding Dream to keep him from leaving or collapsing.
(The irony(?) of Dream comforting Sapnap for most of his life only for them to switch places in this moment is not lost on him.)
He gets to snuggle with him under the covers and gets a kiss on the chin (Dream is half asleep, and thinking about how much he missed him.)
Meanwhile, Punz is going to Murder Sapnap.
Punz has no context for why Sapnap took Dream so he is assuming Sapnap is going to attempt to imprison Dream again (after failing to kill him) and while he is 100 percent confident in Dreams abilities he also is aware that Sapnap is one of Dreams People and therefore capable of hurting Dream emotionally. Hurting Dream is Not Allowed.
Sam is having a panic attack because Dream isn't within sight line and isn't with Punz and therefore everything is Wrong and Bad in his world.
When you finally get a confrontation between Sam and Sapnap (because at this point, they don't know that Sapnap knows about Punz, so Sam is going in first), Sapnap responds viciously, tearing into Sam both for the scars on Dream's body, but also stating he knew they were fucking, and there's no way that's even remotely acceptable given the position of power Sam had (he's not wrong. this is a true statement of fact for everything that occurred prior to the prison break. it's just that things got weird after that). Sam has no good rebuttal, and faced with violence from Sap, has to flee. He's left shaken from everything.
Dream: listen he may have enabled my torture and abuse, and starved and isolated me, and accepted sexual favors from me while being in a position of power over me But he's also a very sad wet cat of a man, and I'm a control freak
Punz tries to talk with Sapnap on slightly less,,, angry grounds? On his part. Knowing about the interaction with Sam, he feels better about the fact Dream is probably safe and Sapnap probably has good reason for what he's doing.
To be clear though, Sapnap is furious with Punz. Right out of the gate he reveals he knows Punz was involved. At first, he's assuming that Punz was paid off to help Sam, but Punz decides "fuck it" and reveals at least part of things. He explains he was working with Dream after the prison break, that he felt bad for betraying him, and that they had a relationship. Dream wanted to involve Sam post-prison, Punz was against it, but wanted Dream to be safe.
Sapnap: you're forcing him to do this! Punz: I DON'T EVEN WANT HIM TO BE DOING THIS Sam: >:(
Sapnap needs to take some time to processes that, but he then presses to clarify; Dream and Sam had a relationship while Dream was in prison? Yes.
Sam had a hand in the torture and Dream's condition? Also yes.
After he broke out, despite all of this, Dream still felt like he wanted to return to Sam? Yes.
Sapnap: And you LET him?!
Punz doesn't have a good answer for that, other than Dream is his own person, and Punz can't stop him from doing what he wants with his life. To which Sapnap responds, yes you can motherfucker
It's a very fundamentally rift in their two perspectives. Punz, particularly post-prison, couldn't morally justify restricting Dream or telling him how to life his life or cope. Sapnap, thinks that Dream was not in a position to make a choice like that.
Punz doesn't have a good answer for that, it's the exact thing he's been feeling guilty over. So he ends up leaving, Not for forever. Just to think.
Meanwhile, Dream overheard everything. He now understands what Sapnap is seeing as the "real issue" (or at least, the current threat at hand), and he knows that he's going to make his own choice here.
Dream: I understand that my decisions are problematic but have you ever considered that I've made my choices and will continue to make them, even if you don't agree Sapnap: NO
Dream tells Sapnap gently that he's leaving now. He wants to go back. Sapnap doesn't want him to, he makes fair arguments about how much Dream could be hurt here. Dream understands, but he's also an adult, and he's decided what he wants. He's forgiven his stupid creeper hybrid boyfriend. It might not make sense to, but he has. It's his choice in the end.
Sapnap doesn't like it, there's a long people where he's just holding Dream and in tears. He's apologized a lot. For leaving Dream there. He says it again for good measure. Dream gives him a soft kiss on the forehead and he doesn't say it's okay, but he does say that he loves him. That it will be okay.
Dream has to go now, but he promises to come back, they set a time and they get to just spend time together. Talking about things one at a time.
(Sapnap and Dream see each other a lot now, as he slowly enters Dream's life again. Occupying his space and checking up on him and fretting. They get more kisses, more cuddles in bed. Once a week they come back to their little cottage and grow something that isn't what they used to have, but its still good, and its full of love.)
Later, Dream will be reassuring Punz that he made the best choices he could make, sighing and pulling Sam out of his prison depression hole. Kidnapping once again proves to be a great way to solve problems.
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