#high-key fangirling

[will80sbyers]

Not my favourite writer reblogging my GIFs

[lamemaster]

For the Silmarilion ship event

I'm an introverted loner type who likes to read and daydream.

Aahhdfsjnrgj I love doing this. Thanks for requesting~~

I ship you with none other than Mr. Popular drumroll...Maedhros!!

This is literally you both!! Case Closed.

(credit @leecheedoodles)

I could write an entire novel on your dynamic.

Maedhros found himself unable to close the notebook—your notebook. It was as if the entire world had settled into its pages, where the colors of day and night converged to form twilight.

Every word seemed to breathe life into the world, every sentence reshaping the very essence of creation. It was as if every pore of the world had been made and unmade from your words. No matter how hard he tried, Maedhros couldn't stop reading. It didn't feel right to delve into your journal without your presence, but the heart often follows its desires.

It had all been an accident, a small bump in the hallway that led to your journal getting swapped with his diary. In that moment, he had tried to elongate

Had he planned the bumping into you...no...not necessarily (he very much did -_-).

He could still remember the richness of your voice, the electric feel of your touch when your fingertips accidentally brushed his.

Tomorrow he will meet you again. Strike a conversation to return your journal. Perhaps he could snuggle into your cozy-looking library nook.

One day, he wishes to become a part of the world that belonged to your journal. One day he wishes to be a part of your dreams as you are of his.

[beenovel]

My mom has seen it all the way through. So I've seen 1-3, 4, and a BUNCH of completely random episodes throughout the series.

reblog for a larger sample size because I’m so curious

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

moth to a flame

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, praise, body worship, eye contact, public sex act, dry humping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your friend invites you to a bonfire where you meet a man who knows you better than you think. plus! reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: this is my first of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Natasha is the coolest person you know. Probably the coolest person most people will ever meet; if they have the privilege. So it is that you wonder how she’s your friend. It’s really too good to be true which is why you can’t help but feel a bit enamoured by her. 

It has to be real though. If you’re not friends, she wouldn’t invite you to her annual bonfire. A sacred tradition for her, or so you’ve heard. A gathering of all her closest friends. They are truly elite company. Not just your everyday schmucks, but The Avengers. 

You’re sure you’ll seem a bit lame walking up with your basket of pumpkin muffins home-made cider. Still, you were taught to always bring something with you. Though it does provide an obstacle to getting to the front door smoothly. 

You carry the large glass jug of cider by the metal handle as you hug the basket to your side. You struggle you hit the lock button on your keys and stop short as the cider sloshes around dangerously and throws your balance. As you try to correct yourself, footsteps scuff up behind you. 

“Need help?” The deep voice is like silk. 

You look over your shoulder, nearly tipping over as you do. The stranger manages to scoop up the basket before you tip it and you giggle in embarrassment. You sigh and let him take it from you. 

Oh, he’s not a stranger. Well, you know his name, even if you don’t know him. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. One of Natasha’s many high-profile friends. Again, you ask yourself how you ended up there. 

“Oop, thanks so much,” you say. “I should’ve made two trips.” 

“No problem,” he assures you. “You a friend of Nat’s?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you smile, turning back up the walk as he keeps stride with you. “New friend, I guess.” 

“Friend is a friend. She only keeps me around because I made friends with a string bean back in 1930.” He chuckles. 

“You mean--” You stop yourself and look away. You don't want to come off as a fangirl that quick. “Uh, well, we met at an event. She was teaching self-defense for the woman’s shelter.” 

“Oh, you work there?” He asks. 

You keep your eyes off of him, “I lived there. Not anymore.” 

“Ah, well, that’s good? You’re in a better place?” He asks. 

You nod, “much better.” You swallow and exhale. “I know who you are. You’re Bucky Barnes.” 

“I’m never gonna get used to that,” he scoffs. “Takes the excitement out of meeting new people.” 

“Oh, sorry, I...” you trail off before your nerves can break through.  

You don’t think Natasha would ever have become your friend if she knew you were such a geek about her other friends. Cap and Iron Man and even Thor. They were the real-life heroes that inspired you to be your own. And it was a poster of Steve Rogers himself that sparked the last fight that led to you leaving your ex. 

“It’s fine, so, do I get a name? Unfortunately, I don’t have the whole mind-reading thing going on,” he knocks on the heavy door as you shift the jug in your grip. You give your name as you peek over at him sheepishly. “These smell...” he lifts the basket and takes a whiff, “delicious.” 

“I hope they are. My first time using my apartment stove. It’s gas. I’m used to electric,” you explain. “Uh, pumpkin muffins, if that’s what you were asking. Sorry, I...” you turn to the door and rub your lips together, “if I’m honest, I’m super nervous.” 

“Nervous?” He echoes. “About?” 

“Well, I’m not the greatest with crowds. Especially since the shelter... ugh, I don’t know why I keep bringing that up.” You cringe, “but uh, just... new people. I guess.” 

“Ah,” he nods and teeters on his treads, knocking again, “damn it, Nat, what the hell are ya doin?” He grumbles. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m not really a people person either. The arm... it’s quite the ice breaker.” He sniffs, “I hate talking about the goddamn thing.” 

“Um, yeah, that would be... awkward,” you utter. 

The door opens before he can respond. You’re glad for it. You hadn’t thought about it but now all you can think of is if his arm has a built-in can opener. 

“Oh, he-eyyyy,” Natasha stutters as her eyes flit between you and Bucky, “you’re here. Both of you. At the same time?” 

“Uhhh, yeah,” you peek at Bucky. 

“Ran into each other a few steps back. You’re shit at introducing people, Natty.” 

She rolls her eyes and waves him off. She turns to you. “Wow, and what’s all this?” 

“I brought cider and--” 

“Muffins,” Bucky finishes for you as he lifts the basket higher. “I’m not much of a baker.” 

“Or a guest,” she retorts. “That’s so amazing, thank you.” She reaches to take the basket, “come on, I’ll show you around. Bucky, I think you already know where the litter box is.” 

Bucky tuts and shakes his head, “nice seeing you too.” He follows you in and faces you, “try to enjoy yourself. I know she’s a bit of a party pooper. Even if she is the host.” 

“With guests like you, how can I not be,” Natasha trills and beckons you onward, “don’t worry about your shoes. We’ll most be outside so I’ll do a full sweep and mop tomorrow.” She turns and struts away. 

Your eyes creep down her hour glass figure. You feel like a pervert as you do but you can’t help it. Even in a flannel and jeans, her body is perfect. The cowl neck of your red sweater and your corduroy feels a little less cute. 

“You made these yourself?” She asks as she leads you into a large kitchen.

There’s a square island with a hardwood top and matching counters and cupboards; the tile is burgundy with black iron accents. You marvel as you compare it in your head to your boxy apartment with the peeling laminate and squeaky faucets. 

“Uh, yeah,” you answer as you lift the jug of cider onto the counter. “Apple cider and pumpkin muffins.” 

“You are too sweet. I have to admit, I got catering for tonight. I'm no good in a kitchen,” she chuckles. “Lived off of Hydra rations for so long, I can’t do much more than open a can or vacuum seal.” 

“Oh, right. Nothing fancy,” you shrug. “You know, I just found the recipes online. Got some apples from the farmers’ market... I don’t know if it’s any good.” 

“I’m sure it’s all delicious. Bet the cider would be great with some whiskey,” her voice is smokey as she smirks. “Wanna put that theory to the test?” 

“Um, if you want. I’m okay either way.” 

“I won’t blame you if you need some liquid courage before facing the rest. Work friends can be a bit much,” she chuckles. “Besides, I have a bottle that’s been sitting in my cabinet for too long.” 

“Sure,” you accept, not wanting to be rude. And she’s right. You need something to take the edge off. 

She hums as she leaves the muffins next to the jug and she spins to the cupboard. She takes out two glasses that resemble jars and a dark bottle of liquor. You watch her put it all together with ice and a cinnamon stick to boot. 

“May as well get some before the rest devour it,” she slides a glass toward you and lifts the other, “cheers.” 

You smile and clink her glass. You taste it and your cheeks pinch. The cider is good but you can definitely taste the whiskey. You hold back a cough and cover your mouth. 

“I am just rewarming the hors d’oevres but if you want to wait, I can introduce you to everyone.” 

Heat roils from the oven as it glows from within and there are trays waiting for serving. She’s already put so much in. You don’t want to make her day even more strenuous. After all, she didn’t have to invite you. 

“No, it’s... you’re busy but if you need help.” 

“Don’t be crazy. You’re a guest. Go, enjoy the party. I’ll be out shortly. Everything’s mostly out there already.” 

“Okay, but um, I can take the muffins at least.” 

“Alright,” she agrees. 

You grab the basket and go to the door. You pause as you realise you don’t know where you’re going. Natasha laughs again. 

“Other way, back door is right on the other side of me,” she sweeps around the kitchen swiftly. 

“Right,” you turn back and cross the tile; one arm around the basket, your other hand cradling your glass. You push outside with your shoulder and step out onto the deck.  

There’s a long table of snacks as promised. You go to it and put down the basket as you dare to glance up at the guests speckled around the yard. Pairs and trios stand in the grass and around the already crackling fire. They all seem to know each other and you recognise quite a few of them. 

“Buns?” The question has you lurching in surprise as you face another partygoer. 

“Oh, uh, no, muffins,” you lift the lid to show the contents. “Pumpkin.” 

“Oooh,” the blond grins. The golden hair, the square jaw, broad shoulders; how could you mistake Captain America? “Can I try?” 

“Of course. I brought them for everyone,” you smile and tightly clutch your glass of cider. “You’re... Captain America.” 

“Ha, well, not here. I prefer Steve,” he takes out a muffin and peels away the liner. “And you’re... one of Xavier’s recruits?” 

“Xavier? Who—no. I’m...” you introduce yourself as he sinks his teeth in to the muffin. Your stomach flips. What if it’s bad? “Natasha’s friend. Erm, I guess that’s what we all are but nope, I’m just me. Just a... civilian?” 

He laughs, “just a civilian? Damn good baker. I don’t go for pumpkin often but this is amazing.” 

“Really?” You beam and bounce on your toes. 

“Oh, yeah--” 

“Save some for the rest of us, punk,” Bucky comes up from behind Steve. “Just like him to be chatting up the cutest girl at the party. What line did he use?” 

“Line? I’m just having a muffin,” Steve grimaces. 

“Mm, muffins,” Bucky reaches in front of his friend to claim a treat of his own, “was waiting on these.” 

He eyes your glass of cider and you take a sip. You pull your lips off the brim and gulp, “oh, the rest is inside if you want some.” 

“She made that too,” Bucky points at your cup. “Who knew Natasha had cool friends?” 

You giggle, “no, I’m not... just muffins.” 

“Good muffins,” Bucky says through a mouthful, “mmm.” 

“Might be good to hide them,” Steve remarks as he gives Bucky the side eye. 

“Hey, these two meatheads giving you trouble?” Another figure approaches from the back door. You turn as Tony stark flips up his dark sunglasses. He sports a red velvet jacket with collar popped. 

Bucky’s lips thin and Steve shakes his head, “you’re late,” the latter rebukes. 

“It’s a party, capsicle. Chill. Wait, don’t do that. We might not see you for another seventy years.” 

Steve scowls and takes another bite of his muffin. Bucky picks at his own and looks away. You nervously glance between them all. 

“Tony Stark,” the new arrival offers his hand, “but you already know that, don’t you, sweetheart? So who are you?” 

“Charming,” Steve comments. 

“It’s called getting to the point, Rogers. Some of us aren’t gonna wait around until they’re in the nursing home.” 

Steve growls and Bucky nudges him. The blond nods and looks at you, “I’ll see ya around.” 

“Sure,” you accept. Bucky waves with two fingers and follows Steve’s retreat. You turn back to Tony and shake his hand as you recite your name. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Natasha didn’t say this was a meet-cute,” he winks. 

“Ummm,” you glance around nervously. 

“Teasing ya. You look lost. You want the low-down on the dweebs,” he flicks his index towards the grass. “Now, you see, that kid right there, that’s Parker. His alias is top secret. For his safety. He might blurt it out anyway. And that’s his buddy Miles,” he points at to younger guests. “Someone should really separate them. We don’t need a mess.” 

He snickers and puts his arm around you as he moves you toward the top step of the deck, “and there’s the mighty God of Thunder. We all know the puppy dog, and then there’s his stray cat of a brother. Trust me, I tried to have him ejected into space but apparently, they can survive that.”

He tuts. “And there’s Bruce, good guy. When he’s calms. And Brock. Real question mark, that guy. Maria, Coulson, Sam, Strange; the better Steve if you ask me. And Wanda, her husband; I made him, his name is Vision but I guess Victor is more ‘human’.” 

He runs his hand up your arm as he pulls you closer, “there’s Charles, he prefers Professor, and his group of ragtag individuals. I could tell you their names but I’m already bored. Oh, except that one, the angry one with the swoopy hair. That’s Logan. Leave him alone. He’s even worse than the bozo with the vibranium arm. 

“Now, T’Challa has more important things to do so we don’t got anyone else worth mentioning,” he drags his hand down your sleeve then lets go, “I’m sure you’ll be tired of all of us before the night’s done. I assure you, heroes save people, not the vibe.” 

He clicks his tongue and jumps off the top step. You watch him strut off and you stare after him. There’s a lot more people than you expected. Familiar but still strangers.  

The only good thing is there’s more than enough guests for you to fade into the background. You’re tempted to go back in and offer to help Natasha. You know better than that. She always sees right through you. She’ll know immediately that you’re just hiding from social interaction. 

🔥

The night wears on into darkness. The large pit burns brightly as voices buzz and shadows waver. You stand watching the lick of flames, unnoticed amid the furor. Or so you think. 

“Hey, there’s cider left,” Bucky appears at your side, his sleeve brushing yours. “Got you a top up.” 

“Oh, that’s... nice.” You accept the glass as he holds another for himself. “You didn’t have to.” 

“You look... lonely. I don’t know. Felt bad. You went to all that trouble and you’re wading through this sea of people you don’t know.” He shrugs. “Hate these things myself. I just came ‘cause Nat asked. Well, she tells. You know, you can’t say no to her.” 

“Ha, yeah,” you agree. She isn’t just strong-willed, she’s intimidating. 

“I usually end up just drifting around until everyone’s distracted, then I dip,” he explains. “Or find somewhere quiet.” He quiets to take a sip, “how about it? Everyone’s out here, there’s a sofa up on the deck.” Your teeth chatter as you try to taste the cider, “and A blanket.” 

“Mm, it said it wasn’t supposed to get cold,” you look down embarrassed. You finally get a mouthful. It’s sweeter than before. Maybe because there’s no whiskey. 

“Huh, well, you don’t gotta hang out with a boring old man like me. Just figured I’d offer,” he says. 

“Thanks, that’s nice.” 

“Well, I can be nice when I want to,” he raises his glass slightly and turns away. 

As he marches off, you watch his back. Your eyes wander around. No one else even notices you. They’re all so wrapped up in each other. Even Natasha’s barely stopped to chat. 

“Wait,” you call after Bucky, “I could sit down.” 

He stops and turns as you scurry after him. The fire light flickers and limns the sharp angles of his face. He waits until your right beside him to continue on. 

“So, you already know what I do for work. What about you?” He asks as you climb the steps in tandem. 

“I’m a cashier,” you answer. “I work at a pet store.” 

“Hm, I like animals,” he leads you to the sofa. You can see the glow of the fire but the voices aren’t so raucous from up there. 

“Yeah, we mostly just have birds and hamsters there. Nothing very big. It’s a small place,” you explain. “I... It’s a new job.” You keep yourself from mentioning that the shelter helped you find it. It’s not really what you want to do forever, but it’s something. 

“Still, that’s nice. You get to help people in your own way. Make sure they can spoil their pet,” he leans back as he balances his glass over one knee and you drink deeply from your own. “I got a cat. Demanding. A bit abusive.” He laughs then chokes on it. “Jeez, I’m sorry. That was a bad joke.” 

You shake your head, “no, it’s not... really. I’m not upset.” 

“You sure?” He angles towards you. 

“Yeah, really. I can handle it,” you say. 

He nods and hums, “yeah, I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse than words.” 

You’re silent as you look down at the cup. You take another sip. He clears his throat as he shifts in the seat. He reaches back to put slide his phone from the back of his jeans. He leans forward to place it on the table. 

“Ugh,” he sits back. “Better.” 

You smile, “well, you don’t just work, do you? When did you get your cat?” 

“Oh, she just made herself at home really. It wasn’t exactly a conscious or willing choice,” he laughs. You fold one arm around your middle and shiver again. “Ah, where’s that blanket--” 

He reaches to the back of the couch and pulls down the blanket. It hits his glass and he loses grip of both. He huffs as he soaks the flannel in cider. 

“Damn,” he stands and holds out the sopping blanket before it can drip onto him or the couch. “Just like me. Hold on. I’ll go get another blanket and clean this up.” 

He untangles the cup from the blanket and sidles past you. You sit back silently as he heads for the back door. You glance over and consider sneaking over to the table to pick at the leftovers. Instead, you huddle down against another evening breeze.  

You finish all but a mouthful of side and reach to place it on the wooden table. His phone lights up and draws your attention. You blink as your eyes instinctively find the screen. You get a glimpse of the wallpaper right before it goes dark again. Huh? 

You shake off what you think you saw and the phone lights up again. You lean over and sink your teeth around the gasp that threatens to spill out. That can’t be. 

You check over your shoulder before you reach for the phone. You tap the side button and gape at your own image staring back at you. There’s a chat bubble floating on the front screen; new messages. You tap and expand the preview. It’s from Nat; ‘you find her?’ 

Your stomach sinks and you nearly drop the phone. The door opens and you quickly set it back down and sit back. You cross your arm and stare out at the other guests. Nothing can happen as long as you don’t leave. 

He comes back and you flinch as he drapes a blanket over you. He drops down onto the couch as he pulls it snug around your front. He drags his grip down the edges before he lets go. “Better?” 

“Mhmm,” you agree and blink. Your eyes feel dry. You reach up to rub them. 

“Really good cider. You’ll have to send me the recipe,” he insists. 

“Sure,” you slur and try to shake it off. “I’ll find the link...” you swallow and cough. You don’t feel right. You need some space to think. “I need to use the bathroom, one sec.” 

You try to stand but don’t even get your ass off of the sofa before you slump over. Your head crashes into Bucky’s shoulder. He opens his arm around you and rubs your back. He hushes you as you babble. 

“You’re okay, baby,” he rubs your back, “I got you.” 

You try to make a noise but you can’t. You can’t whine or whimper or scream. You can just squeak as he pushes you back up so you fall back against the arm. 

“I measured...” he says quietly. “You shouldn’t pass out.” 

You gurgle and lift your arm. It takes so much effort that it drops down like a bag a sand. The cider...

He shifts and stands, moving your leg behind him before he lowers himself back down. His hand rests on your thigh. His thumb presses into your soft flesh. 

“God, you’re so beautiful, doll,” he traces up and down the seam of your pants. “Absolutely gorgeous.” He runs his finger along your pelvis, making a vee back and forth, “soft and... warm.” 

“B--B—B--” you stutter. 

“The moment I saw you, I knew you needed me,” he moves even closer, his hand crawling up your stomach. “Whoever chased you into that place, he didn’t deserve you. You deserve better.” 

He moves carefully, lifting himself and twisting onto his knees. His hand glides back along your thigh as he folds it around him. You twitch but can’t do more than that. He bends and holds himself over you. 

He curls an arm under your head and nuzzles you. Your eyes roll back as you hide behind your eyelids. This can’t be real. What is he doing? How can he have photos of you on his phone? And that text... did Natasha set this up? Why would she do that? She’s your friend. 

“Look at me,” he growls. His voice is scary. Your eyes snap open and you groan. The tip of his nose rolls around yours. “God, you’re beautiful. Doll, I’m gonna take such good care of you.” He leans his pelvis against you as he presses down, “I’m going to keep you safe.” 

He tilts his hips until you feel his bulge against you. Your eyes round and you puff out a foggy breath. What is he doing? 

“Don’t look away,” he snarls as he slides his arm back and grips the back of your head. “Mmm, I just... I love the way you look at me. The way you feel beneath me.” He rasps as he rocks his hips steadily, “I can’t wait to have you on me, doll. To feel you on top of me. Around me. Mm, I wanna taste you so bad. 

“Mm, your chest,” he touches your tits, “your stomach, your hips,” his hand explores with his declaration and he hooks his hand under you, “your ass. All mine.” 

His coarse whispers tingle through you. What he says is nasty and wrong and yet it’s thrilling. Terrifying because you can do nothing to stop him. Defeating because all the people only feet away won’t either. 

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is over now? (was it over then?)

part one: baby, was it over / when she laid down on your couch?

Of course everything had to blow up on Eddie's first first anniversary. He hadn't quite started to allow himself to shed his usual pessimism about celebrity relationships but was he had with Steve was starting to become permanent in a way that was wholly new to Eddie.

Eddie was used to sneaking through back doors, meeting in coat closets, finding partners in well appointed hotel rooms after being slipped a key at an after party but he had been hoping those days were over once a certain Steeeeve Harrington had siddled up to Eddie at a 30 under 30 event. Eddie and his Corroded Coffin boys had made the list as an apparently "revolutionary" mash up of gay pop and heavy metal. Corroded Coffin had actually laughed out loud when the proof of the article came through their publicist and Jeff had the audacity to blame Eddie's Conan Gray heavy break up playlist becoming too high on the band's tour bus rotation and inadvertently influencing their newest album. Eddie might have thrown his slipper at Jeff for the insinuation. It wasn't Eddie's fault that the band all happened to be going through some shit on the last tour and he was actually good a curating a vibe. Steve had come over to ask Eddie about his music after his red-headed friend had practically pushed Steve into Eddie's path narrowly avoiding a plate of passed apps. The rest was, as they say, history. Steve and Eddie had very quickly become permanent fixtures in each others spaces as they both preferred the general anonymity of takeout and movie nights versus paparazzi filled nights out.

They weren't exactly "out" as Steve's agent liked to insinuate that Steve and his acting partner Robin were in some sort of a will they won't they friendship based on their frankly insane on and off screen chemistry. Eddie really hadn't minded as he was perfectly happy to avoid being tabloid fodder or propped up as some sort of satanic succubus depending on what audience was buying. He understood Steve's unique position as somewhat in between a hollywood heartthrob and indie darling. His career obviously benefitted from fangirls and costars alike thinking he was attainable in some way. In some ways Eddie had become a third wheel to his and Robin's outings being drug along to whatever event the pair had to go to or attending one of Robin's artsy friend's gallery openings. He really didn't mind playing best friend in public because he and Steve spent almost every spare minute curled up into each other in one of their apartments or a hotel in a random city if Eddie was touring or Steve was shooting.

Before Eddie, Steve had been a very open serial monogamist with a string of short term high profile relationships until he met Robin and begin starring with her in almost every new film he was in. Right before Robin came into his life, Steve had a pretty public and nasty breakup with New York Times Entertainment critic Nancy Wheeler who left him for her photographer. Eddie and Steve had a lot of discussions about publicity and Eddie could feel the old scars of public humiliation and never pushed Steve to be more public than Steve suggested. They'd struck a good balance of providing support and reassurances in private and working with their publicity teams to avoid any articles that struck too close to old insecurities. Steve in particular was often the subject of gossip and suggestion that he slept with any woman he interacted with for more than a few moments. Eddie learned that Steve hated the rumors and was glad that Robin came along to cut some of that out.

Steve loved to be romantic and bring flowers and send gifts to Eddie when they were apart. Eddie had never had a partner who liked doting on him in such a loud way but he'd quickly become used to Steve's grand gestures and decided on their first anniversary Eddie would be the one to be romantic and mushy. He'd convinced Steve to block off a whole weekend to stay with Eddie. Eddie had set up an elaborate film projector on the roof of his apartment and found the reels for some of their favorite movies from the beginnings of their relationship. He'd already arranged meals from all of Steve's top cravings and stocked his apartment with all the snacks and comfort items they could want. Eddie had been looking forward to the weekend for at least a month and was buzzing with excitement as he waited for Steve to come over.

But then he waited. and waited. and didn't hear from Steve.

It wasn't like Steve to be this late or not let Eddie know what was happening. Eddie was catastrophising a little but he figured it wouldn't be overstepping to head over to Steve's. Eddie had a key so after a fairly hectic uber ride across the city he let himself into Steve's building greeting the doorman and front desk staff who knew him almost as well as Robin at this point. Steve's apartment was almost eerily quiet. There was usually always music or the sound of Steve and Robin bickering over the phone or in person so it freaked Eddie out when he pushed the door open and was met with nothing. He crept in quietly in case Steve was down with a migraine and set his keys down on the kitchen counter.

Eddie walked into the living room and almost backed straight out of the apartment. Nancy fucking Wheeler was sleeping on Steve's couch in his fucking college sweatshirt Eddie had become particularly fond of looking like she'd never left. Eddie had started to turn heel and run when Steve tried to interrupt him.

"Eddie, please, wait! I'm so sorry, there was a bit of a personal emergency, I was just about to call you, baby, please," Steve called across the room.

"I really don't want to hear it. It's our fucking anniversary Steve," Eddie answered as he was pulling his shoes back on.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, I just lost track of time getting a few things handled before I could come over. Please. It's nothing, Eddie," Steve pleaded.

"Steve, it's not nothing. If it was nothing you would have been at my house like we planned. I guess I know why you never wanted to come out now. Of course you'd have been waiting in the wings for Nancy and the white picket fence and 2.5 kids and perfect hetero family bullshit," Eddie was being mean but Steve could fucking deal.

"Eds, that's not fair. She's just a friend and was in a tight spot. I literally was about to head out and come over," Steve held up the bag he had in his hand to indicate he was telling the truth.

"And would you have told me she was over at your place or let me find out the next time TMZ started a rumor about the two of you?" Eddie asked.

"Come on. She just needed a place to stay. It's literally not a big deal," Steve said.

"Steve, that's not an answer. You were going to keep me in the dark about this and I didn't even know you were still in fucking contact. I can't do this anymore. I just. I'm leaving. Don't follow me," Eddie said as he felt tears well up in his eyes.

"Eddie, please. Let me make it up to you?" Steve was almost begging.

"Steve our whole fucking thing is based on me trusting you that exactly this shit isn't happening and believing you when you tell me tabloids are just making things up about you. How am I supposed to be okay with your ex being on your fucking couch and you just never telling me?" Eddie asked as he started opening the door.

Steve looked defeated as Eddie started down the hallway but didn't try to answer. Eddie flagged down a cab outside and tried to hold back his tears the whole ride.

part two

[nanawritesit]

Obey Me! Demon Brothers: You Getting Jealous of One of Their Fans and Pulling Them Away Protectively

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Anonymous said: “Hey when you have time can you please do a jealous MC so basically the context is that one of the brothers or undatebales (you can do both if you want) fans are flirting with then and mc grabs the brothers/undateables tie and pulls them down their level and say "sorry guys this demon is mine"”

Of course anon! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write this request! I think this is such an amazing idea and I had a lot of fun with it! I hope you have just as much reading it :)

There’s some slightly suggestive remarks from the brothers (because protectiveness and anger is HOT) but there’s no explicit NSFW content in this! Other than that I don’t think there’s any triggers to list!

———————

Lucifer:

He isn’t totally oblivious to how attractive he is. His own pride made sure that he knew just how good looking he was. He honestly just didn’t care enough to engage with the people that flirted with him. He would usually just be polite, then say he had a lot of work to do and walk off. However, this particular fangirl kept walking along beside him, complimenting him and asking him questions about his love life. She was wearing a RAD uniform, so he couldn’t just tell her to buzz off. He told himself to just keep walking with long strides, and soon he would be at the House of Lamentation. Finally, he arrived at the doors.

“Well if you’ll excuse me, I need to go inside now.” he told the girl, trying his hardest not to sound as annoyed as he really felt inside.

“Can I come in then?” she asked him suggestively.

“No. You can’t.” a new voice spoke from behind the two of them. They both whipped their heads around to see you strutting up the steps with purpose, arms crossed over your chest. You shoved past her and grabbed your boyfriend’s tie, ushering him inside. You looked over your shoulder before slamming the door in her face.

“Sorry girly, but this demon is all mine.”

After you locked the door behind you, you turned around to see Lucifer with his hands on his hips, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “Well that wasn’t very mature.”

“Like you didn’t do the same thing last week when that demon was hitting on me?” you demanded, an amused smirk painted on your face.

Lucifer sighed, then chuckled lightly as he approached you. He slid his large hands over your waist, and instinctively you crossed your wrists together above his neck. “I suppose we did make an agreement that we belong to each other.” He leaned down to give you a soft kiss, lingering for a little while. He then moved his lips to your ear.

“Pride suits you well my dear.” he whispered, knowing very well what he was doing to you. “Seeing you strut up those stairs and drag me inside really did something to me.”

“Oh? Would you like me to drag you upstairs and remind you who you belong to?” you asked, grabbing his tie again to bring him down to your level to kiss him again.

“Oi! Why is the door locked! You know I never bring a key!” a loud voice suddenly whined behind you, pounding demandingly on the front door.

“Damnit Mammon!” Lucifer grumbled, huffing over to the door.

Mammon:

You were both at the casino, like you were every other Friday night. Mammon had just gotten his allowance, and planned to use it well tonight, trying every slot machine and stupid card game he could. There was one machine in particular that had really pulled him in, and he had tried it ten times already to no avail.

“Okay, well I’m gonna go get us some drinks while you figure this one out.” you sighed, patting him on the shoulder before walking away. He just gave you a simple nod and went back to the game.

The bar wasn’t that far away from him, so it wasn’t that long before you had placed your order. As you waited for the bartender to fix your drinks, you heard a shrill, high-pitched voice next to you.

“Need some help with that machine?” it said. You turned around to see some succubus talking to Mammon, leaning up against the slot machine. Your teeth immediately grinded together, but you told yourself to keep your cool. She’s probably just one of the employees trying to swindle him, you thought to yourself.

“Try it if ya want, but I think it’s rigged.” Mammon sighed and backed away from the machine, seeming hardly interested in the girl.

You smiled to yourself. That was, until she pushed a few buttons and made a waterfall of grimm come out of the machine.

“Wow! That was amazing!” Mammon gaped, taking off his sunglasses to make sure he was seeing this correctly. He immediately knelt down to grab the grimm, then stopped himself. “Oh, did you wanna keep it?”

“Nah, you can have it.” the succubus chirped with a sickeningly sweet smile. “As long as I can get your number.”

At that exact moment, the bartender plopped your drinks down in front of you. You thanked him, then threw back your drink in one swift gulp. You grabbed Mammon’s drink and then quickly shuffled over towards them, stopping in front of him to face the succubus.

“Unfortunately, you won’t be getting that from him tonight. Or anything else on any other night. This happens to be MY demon.” you yanked down on his tie and kissed him roughly, moving your lips over his a few times. Mammon was absolutely flabbergasted, his eyes popping wide open and his face turning as red as a tomato. You pulled back suddenly, then wiped your lip with the back of your hand. You then shoved his drink into his hand before turning back to the succubus. “Now, I suggest you leave before things get ugly.”

The succubus scoffed and rolled her eyes, then turned on her heel and sauntered off. You couldn’t help the proud smile that curled up your lips.

“Babe, um… can we go home?” Mammon asked in a small voice, grabbing your hand softly.

You instantly turned back around in confusion. “Why babe? Didn’t you have an allowance to spend?” you asked.

“Well, I think this was more than I could make if I spent the whole night here...” He gestured to the pile of grimm still sitting in the slot machine. “Plus, um…. you were really hot just now, and I really need to do something about it.”

You laughed at your boyfriend, finally realizing what he was planning in his head. “You liked seeing me be territorial?”

He nodded frantically. “Uh-huh. I think it unleashed something in me and now I don’t wanna be in public anymore.”

“Well okay then.” you smirked, linking your arm with his and leading him to the exit. “But you’re buying me dinner with some of that grimm.”

Leviathan: 

You were both at an anime convention. Levi was in his Ruri-Chan cosplay, and he had even convinced you to dress up as Azuki-Tan, her loyal sidekick. While you wanted so desperately to make your boyfriend happy, it was very awkward lumbering around in a giant pancake costume.

“Babe, I need a break.” you confessed, pulling him to the side. “Will you be okay if I take a breather in the bathroom? I’m sweating profusely and this costume desperately needs aired out.”

“Of course MC! I’ll just wait over here! I’ve been wanting to look through this comic I got anyway.” he smiled, squeezing your hand lightly.

“Thank you, I promise I’ll only be a few minutes.” you told him, and he nodded before going over to sit on a nearby bench.

After you came back out of the bathroom, costume back on, you noticed another guy in a Ruri-Chan cosplay talking to your boyfriend.

“It’s so nice to meet you! The Ruri-Chan fan base is so small here in the Devildom!” Levi beamed innocently.

“I know right? Your cosplay is so much better than mine though. It looks so good on you….” the stranger complimented, raking his eyes over Levi’s body in a way that made you sick to your stomach.

“Babe, who’s this?” you asked, walking back over to Levi. His face instantly lit up when he saw you again, standing up to grab your hand.

“Oh yay, you’re back! This is (insignificant name,) he’s also a fan of Ruri-Chan!” He then turned to his new friend. “This is MC, my partner.”

The guy looked instantly displeased, giving you a passive aggressive smile but with judgmental eyes. “Nice pancake costume.” he sneered, chuckling at you. “You know, if my boyfriend wanted me to go to a convention with him, I would also dress up as his favorite character.”

You let out a cold chuckle, and Levi instantly knew there was no going back. He tried to put a hand on your shoulder, but you were already clunking past him towards the demon. “Well then it’s a good thing Levi isn’t your boyfriend. He’s mine.” you smirked, giving him a sickeningly sweet smile. “Not only is he my boyfriend, he’s my demon. We have a pact, and nothing you can do is ever gonna change that.”

You then grabbed Levi by the bow around his neck and started walking away. “Oh and by the way…” you began, looking over your shoulder one last time at the surly demon. “Her name is Azuki-Tan, not pancake.”

Once you were a fair distance away, Levi immediately started fangirling. “Wooooah MC! That was amazing! You totally have the potential of a yandere protagonist! The envy was radiating off of you!” he gushed.

You giggled, then looped your arm through his. “Only you could think I look badass in a pancake costume.”

“I’m serious MC! It was totally cool how you told him off! And… I kind of like being thought of as your property…” he confessed, looking at you with a slight blush.

You stopped in your tracks to raise your brow at him with a cat-like grin, then clicked your tongue and continued walking. “Wait until we get home to get all suggestive. It’s hard to feel hot in this get-up.”

“You always look hot to me.” he smiled, kissing you on the cheek before continuing to walk through the convention hall with you proudly on his arm.

Satan:

You were on a date at the local cat cafe, having a great time taking pictures with all the cute cats and enjoying your delicious coffees. It was so rare to see him with such a genuine, joyful expression on his face. Then again, the only time he wasn’t entirely consumed with wrath was whenever you were around.

After a little while, you announced that you had to go to the bathroom. Upon your return, you saw one of the waitresses in a cat-maid uniform leaning her elbows on your table in front of your boyfriend. He was obviously uncomfortable, going stiff in his seat and petting the cat in his lap as a clutch.

You decided to hang back for a bit and observe the situation. Maybe she was just trying to get a good tip, or maybe it was part of the restaurant’s appeal. You didn’t want to make a scene without knowing for sure that she was after him.

“You seem to like that cat there.” the waitress chirped, pointing to the cat in Satan’s lap.

“Yeah, he’s very cute.” the blonde demon said flatly, “He was all over my partner a second ago.”

“Partner?” she inquired.

This was it. Her reaction would show you exactly what her intentions were.

“Well maybe they can go home with the cat and I can go home with you. I’m a much cuter kitty, don’t you think?”

Oh hell no. That was enough. You strode up to the waitress and pulled her back by the fake cat ears on her head, placing yourself between her and Satan. “Back off you discount hello kitty! That’s MY demon you’re flirting with!” you seethed.

The girl was instantly frightened and scampered away to the other side of the restaurant. You smirked evilly to yourself, then turned around to see Satan looking at you expectantly.

“What? I didn’t push her THAT hard.” you said defensively.

“I know.” he chuckled. “I would’ve pushed her harder.”

You laughed at him, then sat back down across from him. “Well, that’s why you’re the Avatar of Wrath.”

“I don’t know, you might give me a run for my money. You were pretty furious just now.” he remarked, that signature cynical grin on his face.

“Just give me that cute cat back.” you demanded, holding your hands out to the little ball of black fur that Satan was holding.

“Fine, but I’m not letting this go forever. Your anger is captivating my dear.”

Asmodeus:

You and Asmo weren’t technically dating yet. You were in some sort of friends with benefits stage where you fooled around together but hadn’t yet had a conversation on whether or not you were exclusive. And you thought you were fine with the way things were. That was, until you were at The Fall Club watching him dance with some random guy.

“MC, if you don’t like it you should say something.” Solomon commented from his spot next to you, no doubt trying to stir the pot. “Glaring at them isn’t going to do much.”

“What am I supposed to say Sol?” you asked perplexedly. “You want me to stride up to them and say ‘Hey stop dancing with him because he might be my boyfriend soon?’”

“It would certainly be effective.” the sorcerer grinned. He then placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Or you can just sit here with me the rest of the night feeling miserable.”

You groaned before plopping your head on his shoulder. “You’re right. You’re always right, and I’m sick of it.”

“That’s why I’m your best friend.” he chuckled, then nudged you forward with his shoulder. “I’ll buy you a drink if you can do it successfully.”

You reluctantly came to your feet at Solomon’s action, turning to the dance floor. You thought it was going to be difficult, but as soon as you saw the way that guy was looking at Asmo, something snapped in your reserve.

“Hey-“ you began, tapping the stranger on his shoulder. He flipped around to look at you, then flashed you a charming smile.

“Hey sweetheart, how’s it going?” he practically purred, instantly shifting his interest onto you.

Was this guy for real? He was all over Asmo just a second ago, and now he was trying to get with you too? You just stood there in disbelief for a moment. But Asmo didn’t seem too upset. He seemed more interested in what you would do next, his expression curious and focused.

You shook your head and came back to reality. “I don’t mean to be rude, but that’s MY demon you’ve been dancing with. I’m sorry, but you can’t have him. He belongs to me.”

The handsome stranger instantly looked shocked, gasping a little bit with his hand over his mouth. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know you guys were a thing!” He looked between you and Asmo for a moment. “You guys make a hot couple though. Do you need a third?”

“Dude, get out of here!” you exclaimed, half in annoyance and half in laughter. The guy just threw his hands up in the air in surrender, then strode away from the both of you.

You started to pivot on your foot to face Asmo, but before you could complete the turn he had you locked in his arms. One hand was pressed against the small of your back, and the other was clutching the back of your neck, titling your head up to face him.

“My darling MC…” he uttered, looking into your eyes with a hypnotically admiring gaze, “If you wanted me all to yourself, all you had to do was ask.”

“Then, can I please be the only one you dance with?” you practically begged, mirroring the desperation and passion you felt radiating off of him.

“You’ll get all my dances, and everything else I have to offer.” he reassured, now just mere centimeters away from your face. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, consuming you in a kiss that was so electrifying it made you dizzy.

“Although…” he continued after he pulled back, resting both hands on your hips, “I don’t feel much like dancing anymore… I’d rather take you home and show you just how much I belong to you.”

“Give me a few minutes.” you winked, ruffling his hair a bit. “Solomon owes me a drink.”

Beelzebub:

You and the brothers were all in the bleachers watching him compete in a Fangol tournament, cheering him on as the game came to a close in his team’s favor. As you all made your way down the steps to congratulate him, you noticed one of the cheerleaders crowding him. She was jumping up and down in front of him, gushing shamelessly at how amazing he was, and tugging on his arm. Sweet Beel didn’t want to be mean, but you could tell he was uncomfortable by the way his eyes kept shifting towards you.

“What should we do?” Mammon asked, not quite knowing how you felt about the situation.

“As if you need to ask. MC is going to eat her alive.” Satan chuckled.

“MC please…” Lucifer said putting a hand on your shoulder, “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

You all turned your attention back to Beel and the cheerleader. Suddenly, she jumped up and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ve changed my mind. Get rid of her MC.” Lucifer scowled at the sight in front of him.

That was all the approval you needed as you leapt down the steps two at a time towards your boyfriend. Asmo was pulling out his phone to record you, Levi was covering his eyes anxiously, and Belphegor was suddenly wide awake leaning up against the fence to watch you.

You grabbed the cheerleader roughly by the arm and spun her around so that you were in front of Beel. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to kiss other people’s boyfriends?” you grumbled dangerously.

The girl just giggled and twirled her hair round her finger, feigning innocence and stupidity. “Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t know you guys were together. It’s just that I pictured Beel with someone so much better than you!”

You bit your lip and looked away with a low chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. “You don’t wanna get into this with me girl…”

“MC, you don’t need to do this…” Beel reminded you, placing a hand softly on your shoulder.

“Yeah you do.” she challenged, suddenly pushing you forward with so much force that your back slammed against Beel’s chest.

As soon as she put her hands on you, it was fair game. You instantly sprung back up and leapt forward, pinning her to the ground in a flash and rendering her motionless.

“Listen to me. Beel is my demon. You will not touch him, or talk to him, or kiss him. Is that understood?” you growled in a scarily calm voice.

The cheerleader just nodded pathetically, and after you let her up, she grabbed her pom poms and ran off.

The other six brothers instantly erupted into applause against the fence, cheering congratulations at you just as they had done for Beel when he won his tournament a few minutes ago.

You gave them an appreciative smile, then turned back toward your boyfriend. “Beel, I didn’t mean to ruin your victory. I’m so sorry if I did. But I couldn’t just do nothing.”

Beel looked at you with a poker face, and for a moment you thought he was angry with you. But suddenly, he lifted you up in the air and swung you around with a playful smile on his face. You were both giggling uncontrollably, until he rested you in his arms comfortably.

“Oh babe, you always handle these things so well.” he joked, forehead pressing up against yours.

“Hey, I’m the only one who’s allowed to kiss you!” you stated, throwing your arms up behind his neck. “In fact, I think I’ll exercise my rights now.” You raised your face up to his and captured his lips in a short but passionate kiss. “Congratulations babe.”

“Thank you. But I’d rather you pin me down instead.” he grinned, leaning in for another kiss.

“Oi! Can you guys quit making out so we can go home?!” Mammon suddenly yelled from his place behind the fence, earning him a slap upside the head from Lucifer.

Belphegor:

It was one of Lord Diavolo’s numerous balls, and Belphegor had only showed up because you wanted so desperately to arrive as a couple. However, after a while of socializing, drinking, and dancing, he needed a little break. There was a dark and secluded hallway that he usually crept away to during the parties at the castle, with a comfortable couch for him to nap on. You noticed he was fading in and out of consciousness, and decided to pull him aside for a moment.

“Belphie, it’s okay if you want to go lay down for a bit.” you reassured warmly, squeezing his hand softly. “I’m just happy you came with me! I’ll be okay out here, I’ll just chat with Asmo for a while.”

He smiled at you lovingly. “You’re the best. I’ll be in the usual spot, you can wake me up in fifteen minutes.”

After the fifteen minutes had passed, you made your way out of the ballroom and up to Belphie’s secret hallway to wake him up. However as you were about to turn the corner, you heard someone already doing so. You hid flat against the entrance to the hallway to listen to what was going on.

“Huh? Who are you? You’re not MC.” you heard your boyfriend mumble groggily.

“We’ve never officially met before. I’m in your potions class, and I just have the biggest crush on you.” a man’s voice explained with a hopeful lilt.

“Oh, well I’m very flattered but I already have a partner.” Belphegor said back with a yawn.

“I don’t see them anywhere…” the man cooed, and then you heard loud shuffling from both of them.

That was enough for you. You instantly whipped around the corner to see the man trying to hold Belphegor down to kiss him.

“Get off of him!” you shrieked, sprinting up to them at full speed. You pushed him off of Belphegor and grabbed him by the shirt. Once you got a good look at his face, you scoffed. “Ugh, I should’ve known it was you.”

“MC, you know this guy?” Belphegor asked, standing up behind you protectively.

“Yeah I do, this is the guy who’s always rude to me in my history class. I thought it was weird how I always caught him watching you sleep and following you around the hallways. Guess he was just jealous.” you let go of his jacket, tossing him backward a little bit.

“I love Belphegor more than you ever could!” your classmate cried out, stumbling backward.

“That’s too bad.” you pouted dramatically. “Because Belphegor is my demon. And if you ever put your hands on him again, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do.”

The man just stomped his foot frustratedly and ran off crying. You shook your head at his silhouette disappearing at the end of the hallway, then took Belphegor’s face in your hands. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you did he?” you asked, glancing over his features.

“No, I’m okay MC.” he chuckled, grabbing your wrists affectionately. “All thanks to you. You’re my hero.”

“And you’re mine.” you smiled back at him before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

When you pulled back, his head lunged forward a bit as if he was yearning for more of you. He laughed at himself, then cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose we should get back to the party?”

You shook your head with a warm smile. “Nah, I’ve had enough of the ball scene for tonight. Let’s go back home and cuddle in the attic, hm?”

“You’re seriously the best partner ever.” he sighed, kissing you again.

[bloomingdayswithyou]

Kei bonding with a male reader. Figure he invites them to watch a practice and both bond over making sarcastic comments. Figure he's nicer or more polite than Kei by default but just as sarcastic.

Unlikely Bond

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x male reader

Words: 556

Warnings: none

Author's note: I'm SO sorry for being so late :(( a lot of things have happened and I just stopped logging in here😔 hopefully I'm back posting again regularly !!

The gymnasium was buzzing with energy as the Karasuno volleyball team went through their rigorous practice routines. Among the spectators, a boy named m/n found himself in the midst of the action, thanks to an invitation from Tsukishima Kei. The tall, blond player had surprised everyone when he'd asked m/n to come watch their practice.

Tsukishima, known for his sarcasm and sharp wit, had a reputation for keeping people at arm's length. Yet, for some reason, he had extended an invitation to m/n, and the latter couldn't help but feel curious about this unexpected turn of events.

As they watched the practice unfold, Tsukishima leaned over and muttered in a deadpan tone, "You're lucky, you know. Not everyone gets an invitation to watch us practice."

m/n smirked and replied, equally deadpan, "I must be special then. Or maybe you just needed someone to appreciate your block at a whole new level."

Tsukishima's lips twitched in what could pass for a smirk, and he focused on the court. "You catch on quickly. Maybe you won't be a complete waste of my time."

The banter continued throughout the practice. Tsukishima would point out the team's mistakes, and m/n would fire back with witty comments. Despite the sarcasm, there was an underlying camaraderie forming between them, an unspoken understanding that they both enjoyed this back-and-forth.

As the practice neared its end, Tsukishima elbowed m/n lightly. "Hey, you've got a decent eye for the game. Not bad for a spectator."

m/n raised an eyebrow. "I could say the same for you. You're not as insufferable as I thought."

Tsukishima snorted, a faint smile crossing his lips. "High praise, coming from you."

After practice, Tsukishima and m/n walked out of the gymnasium together. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows on the school grounds.

"So, what made you invite me here today?" m/n finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Tsukishima glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "I noticed you watching our games sometimes. You seemed genuinely interested, and you weren't one of those annoying fans who scream 'spike it' every time the ball's in the air."

m/n chuckled. "Well, I do appreciate the finer points of the game, and I've seen enough volleyball to know that screaming doesn't help."

Tsukishima nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Plus, I figured it would be nice to have someone to talk to who can hold a conversation without resorting to fangirling."

They continued walking in comfortable silence for a while before Tsukishima spoke again. "You know, I'm not usually the inviting type."

m/n raised an eyebrow. "I gathered as much."

Tsukishima sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But I've been trying to be more open lately. The team captain suggested it might be good for morale. So, here you are."

m/n couldn't help but smile at the admission. "Well, I appreciate the opportunity. It's been...surprisingly enjoyable."

They reached a nearby vending machine, and Tsukishima bought two drinks before handing one to m/n. As they sipped their drinks, Tsukishima cleared his throat. "Look, don't get the wrong idea. I didn't invite you here to become best friends or anything."

m/n laughed. "I didn't have any such expectations. But I won't object to more sarcastic volleyball commentary in the future."

Tsukishima smirked. "In that case, I'll consider inviting you again."

.

.

.

[silentscrying]

🏀 buzzer beater | chapter ELEVEN.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, slight unwanted advances, mahito in general, fangirl todo. || sfw. 5.3k words.

THE NEXT DAY, the Curses take the series against the Foxes. It’s official: the Sorcerers-Curses rivalry will come to a head in the NBA championships, starting on Friday in San Diego.

The team went harder than ever at practice today, not only drilling but talking strategy and getting into the nitty-gritty of the psychological impact of the rivalry. Yaga knows Mei Mei and the Curses don’t go easy, or fair. They’re ready.

As you pull out the keys to your apartment, you frown at the package on your welcome mat, a weird cylindrical shape with no return address. After you make it to the kitchen, you open it and find a rolled-up sheet of glossy paper. What?

You spread it out on your countertop and see an official signed poster of Satoru, in full uniform, palming a basketball in one hand with a huge smirk on his face. With the photo’s professional editing, his eyes look even more blue than usual, and you may or may not stare at them a second too long.

“Jesus fuck,” you say.

As if on cue, your phone buzzes.

six: did you get my gift?? you: is this for target practice? how sweet six: :( you: baby six: oh it’s like that😏 you: that was an insult

When your phone goes off again after you’ve relegated the rolled-up poster to an end table, you assume it’s Satoru responding. But instead, you find a text from Geto.

suguru geto: Thought about my offer at all?

Great. He waited until the Curses made the championships and just thought he’d try again? You screenshot the text and send it to Satoru.

you: what if i turn on read receipts just for this

six: HAHAHAHA

You won’t, because you’re still planning on taking Geto by surprise on Friday when he realizes you and Satoru are actually together. Your phone rings, and your brow furrows as you realize you don’t recognize the number or the area code.

“Sorcerers management,” you greet, and a high-pitched voice comes through the speaker.

“Hi there! This is Takada with the Reggie Star Show.” You hesitate for a moment. Reggie’s show is kind of a huge deal, and Takada has become something of a personality herself, although you’ve always found her a bit over the top.

“Uh, how can I help you?” you ask finally.

“So! Reggie would love to invite Satoru Gojo onto the show before the NBA championships.” You stand stock-still in your kitchen.

What the fuck, you mouth silently to yourself. It’s not like Reggie never has athletes on the show. But only Satoru?

“Not the rest of the team?” you clarify, and Takada laughs, a high, kind of shrill sound that has you holding your phone a bit away from your ear.

“Well, you see, we’re hoping to promote the series a bit by pulling the centers from both teams! Mr. Geto has already agreed, so we’d love to interview him and Mr. Gojo together.”

Oh, Jesus.

You are 100% certain this is Mei Mei’s doing. You instinctively want to reject her now, but this isn’t really your call.

“Let me run this by Gojo and the coaches, and I can get back to you, Takada,” you say, hoping that tides her over for now.

“No problem. Thank you!” she chirps, and the line goes dead. You groan, staring at the ceiling. This is not worth the hassle. You swipe to Satoru’s contact and call him.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Miss me already?” he drawls, and you roll your eyes.

“Asshole. So, guess who just called me?”

“If you say Suguru I’m flying to San Diego early and cornering him in an alley.”

You laugh. “Okay, Jesus. No. Uh, the Reggie Star Show?”

“What?” Satoru screeches.

“They have Geto coming on before championships,” you sigh, “and they want you too. To ‘promote the series’ or whatever. Drama on screen.”

“Mei Mei’s idea?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“I don’t really think I have time, considering… it’s championships and we’re training every day? Yaga would be pissed, probably. Not much of a publicity guy.”

Something in your chest loosens at his words. Truthfully, you really don’t want him to go, to be in a situation where he and Geto can only verbally spar through a guise of political politeness.

“Also, I just… don’t want to?” he says. You grin.

“Good. I was hoping.”

“Aw, don’t want me to launch my television career?” You sink onto your couch as he keeps talking. “That could be a great return on investment for you, you know. You have my autograph now.”

“Shut up. And don’t tell Nobara about this. She’d be so mad at you.”

“Scaryyy,” he says, and he’s not joking. “Come over for dinner?” The change in topic has you smiling as you kick your feet up on the coffee table. “Miki and Gumi are coming. And Yuji.”

“And the dogs?”

“Am I not enough for you?” he scoffs, and you grin.

“Not even close.”

“Yes, the dogs, you heathen.”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you say innocently, and hang up on him.

—

Tsumiki meets you at Satoru’s door with a massive grin on her face and immediately pulls you into a hug.

“Hi!” she says excitedly, ushering you inside.

“Hey, Tsumiki,” you smile, and then there’s a rapid pitter-patter of the dogs rounding the corner into the entryway, and you fall into a pile of fur and kisses. “Hi, buddies! Hi!” Shiro shoves her nose into your face and Kuro plops himself down in your lap right as Satoru rounds the corner.

“Stealing my girlfriend,” he whines.

“Dumbass,” you say, and let him help you up. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and you blush against your will.

“C’mon. Pasta’s ready.” You follow Satoru into the kitchen and find Yuji and Megumi putting plates on the small table. You raise a brow.

“Whose cooking?”

“Whose do you think?” Tsumiki asks.

“I helped!” Yuji insists, pointing to the oven. “I’m making garlic bread!”

Tsumiki pats him on the shoulder and says, “Yes, Yuji, you did a great job.”

You fire off a quick message to Yaga to confirm that it’s okay to reject Takada’s offer, and he responds within two minutes, Please do.

You step out to make the call, and when you come back into the kitchen, Yuji and Tsumiki are giggling at something.

“What are you two on about?” you ask, and Tsumiki, still snickering, hands you her phone. It’s open to a tweet of a grainy computer screenshot, and it says SOMEONE LOOK AT ME THE WAY SATORU GOJO LOOKS AT THE SORCERERS MANAGER PLS PLSPLS

That’s not even the part that gets you. First of all, it’s not from the most recent game—it’s from before you were together. You’re wearing the Limitless shirt.

Second, Kasumi retweeted it.

“Jesus,” you say, and Satoru appears at your shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” You swat at him without looking and then pull out your phone to text Kasumi. “I need to tell her before she finds out somewhere else.”

As if on cue, your phone lights up with her name. Your first thought is that she somehow already knows and is FaceTiming you to scream at you. You swipe and her face materializes in front of you, a massive grin on her face and—has she been crying?

“Kasumi! Are you okay?”

“Yes!” she practically screams. And then she holds up her hand, and you stare for a long moment before realizing she’s wearing a ring.

“Holy shit!” you screech. “Kasumi!” The grin splits across your face, and she’s laugh-crying on the other end of the phone, and then she abruptly freezes.

And you realize Satoru’s very much visible in the frame behind you.

“Alley-oop,” she says. “You motherf—Alley. Is that—”

You can see the tips of your ears going pink in the camera in the corner of the screen. “Surprise?”

“To you, maybe!” she laughs. “Holy shit. Holy shit! This is the best day of my life.”

Muta appears beside Kasumi, squinting at the screen. “Tell me it’s because we’re getting married and not because she and Gojo finally banged.” Megumi wrinkles his nose at the other end of the table.

“Kokichi,” Kasumi scolds, but Satoru cracks up behind you and you can’t help but follow suit.

“Congrats, you guys,” you say. “I’m so happy for you. Does Akari know?”

“She’s next on the list,” Kasumi grins.

“We’ll let you go, then,” you say, and take a moment to just appreciate how fucking happy your friend looks. Her blue hair is a mess and her eyes are rimmed red, but she’s glowing. This has been a long time coming. You couldn’t be happier for her, honestly.

When she hangs up, Satoru grins and says, “Aw, basketball romance.” Then he looks pointedly at Yuji and Megumi.

“I suddenly feel like a fifth wheel,” Tsumiki announces. Then she looks at Shiro and Kuro, curled up together on the couch. “Seventh wheel?”

You plop into the chair next to Tsumiki and wrap your arm around her. “Nah, Satoru’s seventh wheeling. I’m here for you.”

She grins, and Satoru falls to his knees and dramatically fakes his own death. The dogs leap off the couch to investigate, and soon he’s laughing as Shiro slobbers all over him while Kuro decides to lay across his legs.

In truth, you don’t remember the last time you felt this content. It’s a nice feeling, warm.

And then a smell hits you, like something burning, and you furrow your brows and turn toward the kitchen. “Is something—”

“Oh my god!” Yuji screeches, practically falling out of his chair and bolting for the kitchen. “The garlic bread!”

—

The results of turning down the Reggie Star offer have, quite possibly, the funniest results of all time.

You’re curled up on Satoru’s couch two days later with your feet on his lap and Tsumiki on your other side, Megumi and Yuji sprawled with the dogs on the floor. On the TV, Todo walks on stage to a cheering studio audience and locks eyes with Takada, and you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he just passed out right now.

“Simp,” Satoru says. You look at him incredulously. “Okay, hey, I did not say I wasn’t also.” He plants a kiss on your temple and Megumi pretends to gag.

You swear Todo literally has physical stars in his eyes when he looks at her. He shakes her hand with both of his and does a weird half-bow and says, “It’s such an honor, Ms. Ta—“

“Oh, please,” Takada giggles. “Just call me Takada.” Todo goes red again, stammering out a response.

“This is the most painful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Megumi says. He’s only watching this because Yuji wants to.

“Mr. Aoi Todo,” Reggie Star says grandly, throwing an arm around him like they’re already best buds. “Take a seat, take a seat. Thanks again for joining us on such short notice!”

Todo takes his place on the couch while Reggie and Takada sit in opposing armchairs, the background flashing the Reggie Star Show logo as the theme music peters out. Reggie grills Todo with questions about the Samurai-Sorcerers series, playing against Yuji after playing with him in college, all the connections the team has with half of the championship bracket. And throughout, Todo just can’t tear his gaze away from Takada.

By the time it’s over you’re nearly falling off the couch, laughing yourself halfway to tears.

“Guys, it’s cute! He has a crush!” Yuji exclaims, and you all laugh harder. Tsumiki collapses into you, her hair spreading out over the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing—one of Satoru’s, blue and black and smelling like him.

After the commercial break, which consisted of an actually absurd amount of Takada promoting various useless products, Todo is nowhere to be found. Geto sits on the couch in his place with a press-worthy smile and a crisp, navy blue suit.

“And here we’ve got the starting center of one of the two NBA teams gunning for the championship title, Mr. Suguru Geto,” Reggie introduces, and the studio audience whoops and cheers as Geto waves them off, smiling modestly. You kind of want to slap him.

“Now, let’s not beat around the bush here, Suguru—you’re going up against the Sorcerers the day after tomorrow, and that means you’re coming face to face with your old teammate, Satoru ‘Six-Eyes’ Gojo.” Reggie looks pointedly out at the crowd, like they’re in on some big secret, and turns back to Geto. “How do you feel about this match-up, two starting centers with a lengthy history on the court with stakes this high?”

Geto sighs and leans forward a bit in his seat, one elbow on the armrest. “Well, Reggie, Satoru and I go back a long time.” You wrinkle your nose at the sound of his first name in Geto’s mouth. You feel weirdly defensive about it. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but we went to high school together and then college, so we’ve been playing basketball together since our early teens.”

Takada chimes in, “That’s quite the bond, going through the most formative parts of your careers together!” You can’t take her seriously, because in your head she’s still winking at the camera and waxing poetic about the merits of some new Japanese skincare line.

Reggie nods, encouraging Geto to go on. “I’ve gotta say, I am looking forward to seeing him again. He’s a hard man to get ahold of these days. It’ll be good to see him, albeit on opposite sides of the court.”

“No, it will not,” Satoru says with a false cheer in his voice, pointing a finger gun at the TV.

“And how do you think your odds are looking for this series?”

“Well,” Geto laughs, “the Sorcerers are talented, I’ll give them that. Clearly, they’ve made it this far. But I will say that the Curses are first seed with home court advantage.” He shrugs. “So do with that what you will.”

Takada glances at Reggie, as if asking permission for something, and he nods. “If I’m not mistaken, Mr. Geto, there’s another familiar face on the other side of things as well, a former manager of the Curses.”

Geto nods, a wide smile crossing his face, and you feel Satoru tense up beside you. “Oh, we miss her a lot, yes. She’s great at what she does. I keep telling her she should make her way back to San Diego if she feels so inclined.” He laughs, like this is some great ongoing joke.

“Oh, so you two still speak regularly, then?” Reggie asks, intrigued. Your jaw clenches, and Satoru’s hand encloses yours before it can become a fist.

“I just recently paid her a visit out east.” Oh my god. Oh my god.

“That fucker,” Satoru growls. Your phone buzzes with a message from Ieiri.

my wife: this little man bun bitch

my wife: what if i commit murder. what then

You’re seething, and even Tsumiki is frowning, the lines creasing her face, turning the corners of her mouth down. Paid you a visit? As if you’re friends and he came to catch up with you over coffee, not dropped in on your street in the dark to harass you about a job you don’t want?

“Well, sounds like it’ll be quite the reunion,” Reggie is saying by the time the smoke clears out of your ears enough for you to hear again.

Tsumiki reaches across you to ruffle Satoru’s hair. “He’s just trying to get under your skin. Don’t let him.”

You shoot a quick message back to Ieiri.

you: tbh i’d pay a lot of money to see y’all in a cage match

Reggie and Takada shift to broader questions about the series and you tune out most of the remainder of the segment, irritated when Geto answers one too many questions with Satoru’s name, subtly suggesting that the Sorcerers have none of the grit and discipline the Curses do.

“They’re a fun bunch,” he says at one point. “Like a barrel of monkeys. They just have a good time.” The tone is all fake, smoothed-out public relations, and it makes your blood boil. You know what he’s really implying, that it’s an insult. That the Sorcerers spend all their time hanging off hoops instead of drilling themselves into the ground. You know it’s not true. You’ve watched them work their asses off all year.

“God forbid we know how to have fun,” Satoru snorts, and you feel the tension easing from your shoulders just at the sound of his voice.

“You don’t,” you say teasingly, flipping yourself around on the couch so your head lands in his lap. “That’s entirely Kento.”

Satoru gasps and looks down at you. “You take that back. Nanami is the most unfun—“

“Not a word,” Tsumiki says helpfully.

“Everyone in this house hates me! Slander under my own roof!” He digs his fingers into your sides and starts tickling you, and you squirm out of his grasp and onto the ground, but he follows you. Soon it’s a mess of Shiro and Kuro frantically pouncing on both of you as you squeal for Satoru to let you go, and Tsumiki is definitely filming this whole thing, and it’s all so incredibly domestic and unserious and right that your heart swells in your chest.

Fuck Geto. He can’t get to you here, and he can’t take you away from the team you love.

—

Being in San Diego again is strange. The facilities are familiar, the gyms, the locker rooms, but you’re walking them a different person than you left them, experiencing the same setting in a new context that makes you feel like you’re living in one prolonged moment of déjà vu.

Nobara walks alongside you, bouncing between social media notifications and ranting about the way Geto made the Sorcerers sound on national television last night. Ieiri’s setting up in the training room down the hall, and Yaga’s pulled the guys into the locker room for a quick meeting before they launch into their last practice before the next day’s match.

You keep thinking about Yaga pulling you aside this morning, murmuring a quick warning in your ear. “If you see Mei Mei, no you don’t. Not worth the time. Just slip away.”

So far there’s been no sign of the other manager, and you’re glad for it.

Nobara’s phone starts ringing and she nods at you and peels off, pressing it to her ear and slipping deeper into the building. You lean against the wall, checking your own phone, making sure you don’t have any missed calls or emails.

The side doors open loudly, metal scraping across the floor, and you look up.

Fuck.

It seems Mei Mei doesn’t do her own damn dirty work.

“Oh, hello!” Mahito crows, making his way over to you. You didn’t like him when you worked for the Curses and you don’t like him now, his leering grin too wide for his face, hair tied into three sections behind his back. Him, you know—but you haven’t yet met the man beside him, a lanky, tall guy with oddly wide eyes and a long blond ponytail weirdly off-center on his head.

Of course, you know who he is. You’ve done your research, you’ve seen the roster. Haruta Shigemo.

“I hoped you’d be here.” Mahito comes to a stop in front of you as you push off the wall, crossing your arms.

“Mahito.” Your voice is cold, flat.

He frowns, an exaggerated, off-putting gesture. “Thought it’d be a happier reunion,” he says. He holds his arms out toward Shigemo with a flourish. “I’d like you to meet Haruta. He, ah, was something of a replacement for your Six-Eyes.”

Shigemo stares at you, unblinking, a small, close-lipped smile sending a shiver down your spine. You’re suddenly aware of how close these two men are to you, that your back is to the wall, that you’re alone in the hallway.

“Look, I really have a lot to get done—”

“Oh, we don’t mean to bother you!” Mahito laughs, high-pitched and manic. “We just wanted to welcome you back home, you know. Make sure you settled in to the old stomping grounds.” He leans in, breath smelling like some odd combination of fruity gum and stale crackers. You shudder involuntarily. “I hope you don’t take it too hard when they lose,” he whispers, too close to your face. “Should you need an out, remember we’re in your corner.”

Shigemo holds a hand up as you’re about to retort, tilting his head and studying you. “If he’s not your type,” he giggles, nodding at Mahito, “I’ve got some time on my hands tonight.”

Your face flushes deep red with anger, fists going white-knuckled at your side. “I do not need—”

“Excuse me,” says a cool, familiar voice, and the tension in your muscles goes slack as Kento comes to stand directly between you and your newfound nuisances. “I believe we’ve already taken care of any business that needed tending to before the match tomorrow, yes? Is there anything else I can help you with? We’re just about to kick off practice, and I’m afraid our time is limited.”

Mahito steps back, holding his arms up in false surrender. “Nanami! Hello!” He grins widely. “We’re representatives, of a sort. Just making sure the bunch of you are settled in.” Shigemo nods and looks Kento up and down, calculating.

“We are just fine,” he says flatly, nudging you with a hand behind his back. You nod at the two Curses players and storm down the hallway toward the gym, heart racing in your chest. Behind you, you hear Kento still talking. “Do tell Mei Mei her… thoughtfulness is noted.”

In the gym, the guys are warming up, and your eyes immediately lock on Megumi, angrily slamming an innocent basketball against the wall, over and over. Yuji dribbles between his knees without looking at his ball, watching Megumi intently.

You don’t see Satoru, and for a moment you’re worried, feeling a little off-balance, until you feel hands on your shoulders, spinning you around. “Well, hello,” he says, and you laugh, dropping your head into his chest.

“Fuck is up with Megumi?” you ask, nodding toward him, and Satoru frowns. You notice now the tension in him, the slight anger in his eyes, an energy like impatience and frustration all around his edges.

“Suguru was fucking with him. Saying shit about Tsumiki. I was dealing with him.” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, considering as he looks over your shoulder at Yuji drawing Megumi back onto the court. “He’s such a dick.”

Kento walks in then, making his way straight over to you. “You okay?” he asks, and Satoru’s brows knit together.

“What? Why wouldn’t she—” He turns to you. “Why wouldn’t you be okay? What happened?”

“Mahito,” you say. “Shigemo, too. Fucking pricks.”

Satoru breathes in sharply, his grip on your shoulder tightening protectively. “If they put their fucking hands on you—”

“Toru,” you say, the nickname slipping out without your permission. It seems to calm him down a little, makes him look at you steadily. “Kento got them out of the way. And they won’t do anything to me. They’re just doing Mei Mei’s bidding, same as Geto, probably.” You grab his hands in yours, nodding at Kento to say you’ll be okay. He inclines his head and walks away, gathering the rest of the team in the center of the gym.

“They want to get under your skin. Don’t let them."

Your voice is steady and calm, coated with a reassurance you don’t feel. Your nerves are still on high alert, Mahito’s breathing down your neck, Shigemo’s unsettling scrutiny lingering in your mind. But you know they’re not after you. You’re a conduit for them, a way to fuck with Satoru. And you will not let them.

“Don’t let them,” he echoes, sighing, pulling you in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Remember, flagrantly disgusting display of public affection. Imagine their faces.”

He laughs, loud and bright, and something warm blooms in you at the sound. “God, you’re the best.”

“I know.” You pull back and shove him in the direction of the team. “Now go practice so I can watch you kick their asses.”

He grins at you, does a little half-bow, snapping back into his untouchable, unbothered self. “Anything for you.”

—

There's really no reason for you to have the clipboard in your hands. Every note you’ve taken is committed to memory. You know both team’s rosters inside and out, know every detail of the schedule, what a win or a loss means for the schedule, score projections, all of it. But you need something to do with your hands, so you hold onto it, clicking and unclicking your pen, scribbling in the margins of old brackets, trying to contain all your nervous energy into a manageable space.

And you’re not the only one overflowing with energy. The stadium is alive. The lights are bright, the crowd raucous, the massive hanging scoreboard broadcasting CHAMPIONSHIP SHOWDOWN SPONSORED BY KFC. You don’t think you could eat right now even if someone shoved a bucket of fried chicken into your hands.

“That’s just mean,” Satoru mutters under his breath, gazing up at the advertisement.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothin’.”

He glances down at you and then across the court, where Geto has been tracking the two of you with searching eyes. Mei Mei hides behind a clipboard as well, though you notice her eyes flickering back and forth, studying Satoru, you, Yaga. You pointedly avoid looking at Mahito and Shigemo. Pricks.

The NBA championship series. Sorcerers versus Curses. It all comes to a head here, an endless rivalry for a championship title.

“So, I’m thinking now or never,” Satoru says, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. When you realize what he means, it takes everything in you not to glance across the court at Geto. A smirk spreads across your face, and you grab Satoru’s jersey and pull him toward you.

“Good luck,” you say, and then you kiss him, hard and long and intentional, and you know Geto sees you.

“I think,” Satoru says, pulling back a little breathlessly, “we should do that every game.” He grins and you swat him away, making your way over to Ieiri and Nobara in the far corner, and you can’t wipe the smile from your own face. On the way there you chance a look across the court. Geto isn’t looking at you, but he’s looking at Satoru, talking lowly out of the corner of his mouth to Mei Mei.

Point for me, you think.

“You’re actually nauseating,” Nobara says when you reach her. You know she’s not serious. She knew the plan. She loved the plan.

“I’m making a point,” you say anyway. She follows your tilted head toward Geto and Mei Mei, and you watch the slow, shit-eating grin spread across her face.

“Oh, so worth it,” she murmurs.

You tug the headset on and listen to the unfamiliar announcers, wishing it was Zenin and Panda in your ears but settling for the new, faceless voices instead. They’re not the same guys who usually commentated on the home court when you worked for the Curses, and you’re oddly glad about it, that there’s not another reminder of the loaded history here right in your ears.

“Charles Bernard here with Rika Orimoto,” the new voice says, “ready to watch this long-time rivalry play out in real time.”

When she speaks up, Rika’s voice is bright and younger than you expected, animated where Bernard is entirely deadpan. Interesting partnership.

As the starters take their positions, you’re surprised to see that Satoru’s not the one taking the tip-off.

Kento is. And in front of him, eye-to-eye with a sardonic smile, is Mahito.

Ah, shit.

The ref’s expression is flat and unaffected, but his eyes dart between the two shooting guards as they face off in the center of the court. You wish you could hear what they’re saying.

“An unusual choice for both teams here as we kick off this final series,” Bernard says. “Neither of our centers taking the tip-off today.”

Kento shows no emotion as the ref lets go of the ball, and Mahito leaps, but he’s not fast enough.

“Number thirty-seven Kento Nanami swipes the tip-off without hesitation!” Rika announces. “Back to number six, the Sorcerers' Satoru Gojo, and a fantastic pass up to Fushiguro.”

The Curses' hulking point guard, Jogo, is right up in Megumi’s face with a massive hand reaching out to block, but Yuji grabs the rebound and pounds it through the hoop in seconds.

“And the Sorcerers take the lead just sixteen seconds in,” Bernard says. You look over at Ieiri and Nobara, grinning, and then back to where Mei Mei stands with a stony expression across the court.

You feel good about this.

Back and forth, back and forth. Ino is giving Jogo a run for his money, using his speed to dart around the massive point guard before he even sees what’s coming. In his breakaways Yuji keeps finding himself pitted against Mahito, and it seems like it’s always a fifty-fifty whether the block is successful.

“Some subs as we enter the second quarter. On San Diego's side we have Haruta Shigemo on for Fumihiko Takaba.”

“Yuta Okkotsu on for the Sorcerers!” Rika says, a little too excitedly, before she catches herself and calms down.

“Someone has a fangirl,” Nobara snorts beside you, holding just one side of the headset to her ear.

You can’t tear your eyes away from Satoru and Geto as they go up and down the court, always on each other’s heels, breathing hard. It’s personal, and everyone can see it. If they’re saying anything you can’t make it out.

Both teams are going all-out right now, and the fans feel it too. Megumi’s guarding Naoya Zenin like a shadow, something in the air around them tense and constant. You don’t see Yuji’s uncle but you can certainly hear him, somewhere behind you on the visitors’ side, screaming, “HELL YEAH! SHOW THEM WHAT A WIN REALLY MEANS! THESE FUCKERS WOULDN’T KNOW FIRE IF IT LIT UNDER THEIR ASSES!”

You give it two minutes before he’s kicked out.

Inumaki goes on, then Hakari, and at some point the Curses swap Jogo out for Dagon, and it’s go, go, go. You can barely catch your own breath by the half, the game wrapping around you like you’re the one playing it, and Satoru’s drenched in sweat as the team files back to the locker room. He reaches out and pinches you in the side and you stick your tongue out at him, like the mature adult you are.

“Gross,” Nobara says.

The rest of the game goes by in a similar blur of shots and blocks and heated matchups, Toge nailing a few free throws, Takaba coming back on and managing to slip past Megumi only once. The scoreboard never reads more than a six-point deficit.

You almost don’t hear the buzzer when it’s finally over, players skidding to a stop on the court, their heads turned up toward the scoreboard.

“Holy shit,” Ieiri breathes beside you. “We won. We actually fucking won.”

You rip off the headset, the grin overtaking you, relief and pride flooding your veins like a drug, and the rest of the team floods the court in celebration. They beat a first seed team on their home court.

Satoru catches your eye over the mass of people and smiles, and you wave back.

And this is only the beginning.

directory. || prev.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro

[sunflowersunite]

A study of Zeke's role in Levihan fanfiction

(Levihan filter on, obviously)

I want to talk about Zeke as portrayed in the various fics I've read. When Zeke shows up in a Levihan story, his role is of a love rival to Levi, courting Hange and making him jealous (and I eat it up every single time without fail). It's unrequited more often than not, Hange is usually creeped out by him, it's so funny to read.

I love that trope, okay? I love it because there is nothing in canon that suggests a romantic attraction on Zeke's part towards Hange. Zeke isn't even interested in romance, he wants to die and take everyone down with him, romance is the last thing in his mind. He even asks Armin why people would want to have kids. He just doesn't understand it.

He and Hange don't even interact! I don't remember seeing them talking, maybe they've exchanged a few words, but nothing deep about their beliefs that would build some semblance of a connection between them.

BUT. I sincerely believe that under different circumstances, Zeke would be infatuated with Hange. I mean, strong independent intelligent scientist who built those deadly thunder spears and accumulated knowledge about the titans with barely any resources and primitive technology?? If Zeke wasn't so depressed, he'd be head over heels for Hange.

What's more, ever since I found out that Hange is four years older than Zeke, I picture him having this schoolboy celebrity crush on her because she's just so cool and awesome, and he's interested in science. Their views and methods are different and they wouldn't agree on anything if they were in the same team, but for now he wants to talk to her about science.

And it's not one author who has assigned the role of the love rival to Zeke! It's agreed within a (not small) portion of the Levihan fandom. Someone saw that blond disaster nerd and said "y know what? This one would crush on Hange so hard, he's a serious rival" and we all said yes without missing a beat because even though it's not canon, it just makes sense.

(this isn't a Zekehan post, I mostly took the chance to talk about how awesome Hange is, and how Zeke would see it and totally have a crush on her, interested in science as they both are. Therefore despite him not having canonical interest in romance, this just works for me.)

Maybe in an AU, when Eren goes to Marley and meets Zeke in the hospital, Zeke kind of directs the conversation towards Hange and asks stuff about her. And Eren just stares at him deadpan because yeah, no, Hange's taken mate. (and he wouldn't let his brother hit on his adoptive mother commander)

Consequentially, Levi's hatred towards Zeke is fuelled by annoyance because Zeke lowkey wants to fangirl to Hange about her accomplishments in Paradis while she was locked in the walls. Hange is super not interested, seeing as he killed Erwin, but she ends up talking to him because he knows about titans. Levi glares daggers at Zeke the whole time and pulls Hange out of there first chance he gets. (I live for jealous slightly possessive Levi, like a disgruntled cat)

In conclusion: I'm all in for love rival Zeke if he makes Levi jealous (and if Hange low-key or high-key doesn't want to be there, it's so funny watching her being all stiff around him) because it makes sense

[qsycomplainsalot]

Re: Pervertin or how German Supersoldiers High on Crack travelled through Space and Time Buy my Book

I came across a post on the bird site yesterday calling into attention the use of pervitin, more or less adderall, among German troops during WW2. For context pervitin tablets were indeed issued to a lot of military personnel back in those days, specifically to aircraft pilot and sometimes tank crews on long missions. The drug as some of you may have heard keeps you awake and alert, along with a slew of side effects and a non negligible chance of addiction. In a discussion that brought to view just how willing people are to buy into Nazi propaganda in the year of our f*cking lord 2023, I pointed out a few things, uphill and having to indulge a lot of sidetracking. The use of pervitin has always been a little overstated ever since it came to the internet's attention, and I certainly would never call it a key component of the Blitzkrieg when, in the theaters of war where actual Blitzkrieg was employed, its success was more due to a combination of innovative doctrines, intact fuel supplies and a big fat helping of dumb luck. It was a bold move highly relying on capturing enemy fuel depots with fast, surprise deep strikes supported by a lot of armored and air forces, and it was only sustainable in neighboring, industrialized countries. One can argue if the USSR was industrialized at the time, but it stopped mattering when the Russians removed their entire industry from the West to beyond the Ural mountains. The Blitz stalled there.

"But if it didn't work, then why did the Nazis do it so often ?" Well the answer to that is twofold. The first, longer answer is that Nazis were a bunch of f*cking morons. Maybe not one by one, but as a government in charge of military procurement, they were one bunch of goofy motherf*ckers. Gaggle of functional shit-for-brains really. The Nazis gave every one of their tanks in the middle of the war two coats of anti-magnetic paint, which took almost a full day to cure, despite being the only major nation to use magnetic antitank mines. The Nazis kept using slave labor drawn from their prisoners of war, including in the manufacturing of their overengineered armored vehicles, resulting in poor quality products or, you know, a few rivets in your magnificent Tiger tank being replaced by a cigarette butt. The Nazis spent more than half the cost of a strategic bomber on every V2 rocket, not including design costs, for less than half the payload. It ended up killing more Germans and slave workers than British people in London, for literally no strategic or tactical result with 0.4 person killed per every rocket. The second, shorter answer is that pervitin was not used that much. A lot of the arguments trying to boost its importance come from a single book, "Blitzed" by Norman Ohler, now available in twenty languages apparently, where grand claims are made by a historian who was probably more than a little tired of seeing Buzzfeed rack in the big bucks instead of him.

End note; I was called out by a bird siter after the conversation that inspired this post for even beginning to fact-check this, which they considered, and I quote, "fangirling over nazi stats". I cannot stress this enough, learning the 'bad' parts of history does not make you bad person, it is how you interact with the resulting knowledge. Unlike what they implied, I had to look for those supporting evidence. I had a hunch that such a grabbing headline about super-drugs would be fake, I knew offhand that V2 rockets killed more blues than reds, but when I had to research all that jazz about Nazis and their superweapons it was to dunk on them, not make another History Channel documentary about a time-travelling bell. Stay critical, fascists can eat shit.

[sarah-yyy]

Jie jie what is the devil judge and should I watch it

why would y'all give me a reason to scream over tdj, i'm still recovering.....

SO this show is from like 2021 so like a lot of y'all have probably already watched this, but for those of you who haven't and want to suffer, this post is for you because jiejie loves you 😘

what: modern kdrama // completed // 16 eps, roughly 50 mins each where: netflix // viki why: this was sold to me like this (verbatim) - think eat the rich courtroom shenanigans with morally grey judge who is also extremely hot

little bit of background - setting is in a dystopian, post-pandemic south korea. to instil faith in the judiciary, they've basically reality-showed court proceedings. viewers can vote to sentence the defendants through an app. this Live Court is presided by:

JUDGE #1 - the morally grey but extremely hot judge in question, kang yohan

where do i even START with kang yohan. unloved (unwanted, really) second son of a rich family. his terrible dad used to keep him in the basement, and was v abusive, but he had a brother he loved and loved him v much. inherited the family fortune when his brother and sister-in-law died in a tragic fire (the circumstances of the fire is......sus). lives in a huge ass mansion with his niece (elijah💕) who for the better part of the show is shown to suspect he killed her parents for their fortune. kind of a vigilante (except self-serving, mostly).

this is the star of the Live Court, makes essentially all the decisions, mostly without much consultation with his associate judges, which procedurally is not right, but you'll v soon learn that kang yohan does not give a fuck about the rules, and will do whatever it takes to achieve his goal of taking the social responsibility foundation (SRF; basically a foundation run by the elite rich of the country driven by public donations) down.

JUDGE #2 - also somewhat morally grey and also hot associate judge, kim gaon

sweet boy. just wants to Do Things Right. starts off a stickler for rules. he's introduced as being put on the Live Court panel by his mentor to watch over kang yohan and to stop him when he makes extreme decisions (which kyh being kyh does on the daily). lost his parents when he was still in high school because a fraudster scammed his parents of their live savings. is huge on Justice.

this boy is extremely suspicious of kang yohan, and sets about investigating him with the intention of p much revealing his crimes. somehow gaon goes from that to uhhhh living at kang yohan's house, becoming elijah's adopted dad, making dinner for them??? WELL. all for the investigation, right?? gaon sacrifices so much for justice, what a good boy.

JUDGE #3 - a lot less morally grey but still extremely hot associate judge oh jinjoo

MY GIRL 💖 we (tragically) don't see enough of judge oh but she's Righteous, really earnest, super For The People, and a lot smarter than she plays off to be. huge kang yohan fangirl (same, 언니, same). used to sit in a more rural court, and this is her first time in the limelight. is ambitious, but not so much that she will put innocent people in harm's way.

(side note: as an actual to god lawyer who goes to court very frequently, i have not, to date, met a hot judge, but can say with confidence that if any of these three were presiding at my hearings, i would be a lot more enthusiastic about going to court.)

so the cases that the Live Court trials are high profile ones and often result in controversial sentences - kang yohan picks these cases, and they are, again, targeted at toppling the SRF. the key members of the SRF are the president, the minister of justice, several conglomerate presidents, and:

jung sunah

epitome of jiejie step on me please. introduced as a director of the SRF who assists the chairman of the foundation very closely. later inaugurated as chairwoman of the SRF. p much the brains behind the SRF.

grew up poor. possibly killed her mother when she was young. likes shiny things. low-key kang yohan obsession (same, 언니, same) stemming from the time she worked as a maid in their household when they were both young. vicious. will literally kill a man. will kill MANY MEN to achieve her goals (some murders are valid imo).

the rest of the villains are actually quite interesting as well, also low-key fond of minister cha but this post is already too long...

ANYWAY this show centres around kang yohan trying to take down all key members of the SRF through the Live Court - not all of it goes smoothly for him, because he has Meddling Sidekicks like gaon (bless his soul, but sometimes he does v dumb things with good intentions), but yohan makes things work!!

this show also ft. v homoerotic exchanges between yohan and gaon if you're into it (you should be) (is there fic where yohan rails gaon six hundred different ways because i feel like there is and y'all should point me in that direction thank you), found family vibes, extremely !!! plot twists (when i found out about the cause of the fire i was literally screaming). all the characters are interesting even if some of them (*cough*president*cough*) are annoying, and the pacing of the show is good - doesn't drag and makes you want to keep watching the next episode

LONG STORY SHORT: watch this, 11/10 would rec, thank you for making me watch this buddies, this is literally the first time ever i've felt like writing fic for a kdrama

[cleolinda]

A tale retold

I first told this story some twenty years ago, and it happened even earlier than that, so here's the Modern Retelling with Historical Context:

For many years, I had—well, you've heard of naturally curly hair? I had unnaturally curly hair. I had a stylist so brilliant that she was able to give me occasional perms that no one could tell were chemical. NO, FOR REAL, I constantly got compliments on my long, rippling hair. In reality, my hair is deplorably fine and flat, although I'm told I have a ton of it; putting in some wave made me feel better, you know? I just wanted to co-wash, air-dry, and go live my tousled life. But after my spinal surgery, I just couldn't spend 2-3 hours in a stylist's chair anymore. And so, after 20 years of my best Galadriel impression, I've had to make peace with my natural texture, the only thing about me (I realize now) that is actually straight.

But this story takes place back in 1996; I was a junior in high school, and I had the freshest of perms. Just absolutely exuberant. Downright Pre-Raphaelite. It had only been done the weekend before, and it usually took about two weeks for the curls to settle down and look less poodly natural, but I wasn't going to miss Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet. When I was in grad school years later, my Shakespeare professor went to the mat for this movie, declaring it the best adaptation of any of his plays. And she wasn't a Leo fangirl, either. I tend to agree. And I got to see it on a big screen, opening night, with my best friend and my fresh luscious elbow-length '90s 'do. Banger soundtrack, the big bold visuals that tip over into Maybe Too Much in Moulin Rouge—I'm enthralled, I'm absorbed. Claire Danes is weeping over Dead Romeo, and we all know what’s about to happen in this, a 400-year-old play, but you still hope against hope that somehow it won’t this time. And then I feel something that's not emotion.

Something behind me. In my hair.

It's clammy. This tiny moist hand... creeping... up my neck.

Bear in mind, these are classic movie theater seats, not the big recliners you get now. My head is vulnerable to rear attack. And these tiny fingers, like a gummy little doll's hand, are crawling up my neck, under, through my hair. I am now sitting bolt upright, frozen. What the fuck is going on. It’s still creeping like a little spider up my scalp to the back of my head—put your hand up to yours, get your fingertips to the roots of your hair and really get a sense of what this feels like—

These fingers close, slowly, around the greediest handful of hair they can get hold of, and YANK.

I whip around while Juliet is sobbing—darkness.

To this day, I have no idea who (or what?) that tiny hand belonged to. I mean, you gotta think it was a small child enticed by the siren song of my curls, right? Some parents just didn’t spring for a babysitter on a big opening night, and there’s a Millennial out there with some real interesting core memories, I guess? I couldn't make out anything in the darkness behind me, and we were at kind of a key cinematic moment, so I didn't have time for more than a stern warning glare To Whom It Might Concern. And then I held onto my hair for the remainder of the movie. I chopped it all off within a few months, and went to college with short, straight hair, unable to forget the Cursèd Touch of the Hand. lol jk I just wanted a change and regretted it instantly.

So, happy 20th anniversary to the story I told on the Fametracker forums all those years ago. I can still remember exactly what that hand felt like: tiny. And moist.

[crimsonhydrangeavn]

Hey there! I'm here to simp for Garret, as usual, but I have another reason to gush today—I absolutely adore your drawing style! Whether it's the colors, the character designs, or the scenes, I just love it all. One of my favorite things, though, has to be the characters' facial expressions—they are all just beautiful!

Marcelo's surprised face? Perfect. Rita's blushing cheeks? Adorable. Camilla's entire design? Has a special place in my heart. And don't even get me started on Teagan's smile—it's so cute, it's almost unfair. But, of course, my ultimate favorite is Garret. I can't handle it when he furrows his eyebrows, whether he's pissed off or has that smug look like he's just hit the jackpot. It's all just so perfect!

Anyway, I do have a question for you—do you have any tips for creating character designs? I feel like the way your characters look perfectly matches the vibe they give off, and I'm starting to work on my own visual novel, but I'm having a hard time nailing down the character designs and I felt I could find good advice from you.

Additionally, I apologize in advance for all the fangirling and for my poor English. I hope nothing I said came across as rude or inconvenient, truly 🙏.

Thanks so much, and I hope you have a fantastic day! ❤🌻

Thank you so much for your incredibly sweet ask! Please, please, please NEVER apologize for gushing about characters for fangirling over them! It always brings a massive smile to my face and I really appreciate hearing how much you enjoy them! <3 I'm incredibly flattered that you reached out to me for advice on character creation and I'll do my best to share my process with you! Granted there are a million different ways to do things so these are just a few things that I've found that helps me in the creation process.

I'll give you a little background about me and my character/story creation journey so you can get a better understanding of my background in writing/character development.

You see I've been a huge fan of text roleplay for the majority of my life. I actually started roleplaying on gaiaonline when I was 12 and I've been doing it ever since. ( Almost 20 years at this point! damn am I old lol) As a result I've had a lot of practice creating and interacting with different kinds of characters in different settings. I've also been playing DnD on and off since high school. That being said, I've had time to refine my craft and create characters that I personally really enjoy and align with to some degree. ( And hopefully you do too!)

That being said, I'll list a few tips and tricks I've picked up over the years below!

Anatomy is key! Yes, my characters are stylized, however I spent a long time studying anatomy and getting a solid sense of proportions, ratios, and musculature. Am I perfect? Absolutely not, but I'm at the point that I can usually notice if there's a glaring error/ something looks really off.

Make sure to put all of the characters in a line up once they're designed! Are their heads the same size? What about their hands and feet? Some slight variations are natural, but if one character's head is noticeably larger than the others, then I'd take the time to adjust. The same could be said for colors. Is one character SUPER saturated while the others are more muted? Unless they're supposed to stand out, consider reworking the colors to make them feel a bit more cohesive.

A basic understanding of color theory is always a bonus in my book! I'd also consider making a general color palette for your game. That way it'll help you make sure everything looks and feels as though it's in the same world.

When I first create a character, I try to think of a general concept of what I want them to be. What's their general vibe? What do they look like? What's their personality like? Ect. Once I have a general vibe down, I try and do a bit of visual research on tiktok, pinterest, tumblr, google, ect. For example, I might have a general idea of what a typical frat bro or sorority girl looks like, but until I actually do the research and look into the kinds of things they wear, how they speak, and their general lifestyle, and real life examples of these kinds of people they'll feel like a flat caricatures of what they actually are.

Then, once I have the general vibe nailed down I start doodling them and playing around with different hairstyles, outfits, body types, ect. I actually have a few different different versions of all of the characters for Crimson Hydrangea! I rarely end up going with my first sketch/ concept when it comes to most of my characters. I also like exploring with different skin tones, colors, and textures/designs.

It takes a lot of thought and trail and error, but once I finally create a character that I'm visually happy with, I really start delving into their personality, backstories, and general psyche. What are their likes, dislikes, positive traits, and flaws? What are their motivations, fears, and traumas? How self aware are they? Then I start asking myself slightly more introspective questions to help me relate to the characters a bit more. What about this character resonates with me? How can I make this character feel more real? What are some traits that we share? For example, Garret inherited my unhealthy perfectionism, Marcelo inherited my love of food and desire to make sure those around me are happy and comfortable, Camilla inherited my sarcastic sense of humor, Rita inherited my unyielding sense of responsibility and unhealthy work-a-holic tendencies, and Teagan inherited my deep rooted insecurities. Granted most of these characters take it to a completely new level than I do in my real life, but at least on a basic level I can relate to them and understand their motivations. That being said, I don't think all of your characters need to inherit a specific trait of yours, it's just something I recently realized I tend to do on a subconscious level to help me write them with a bit more depth.

Let your characters develop a life of their own within your story. It's okay if they end up changing from your initial concept. People in real life are complex and don't always fit into a specific mold no matter how hard they try. They grow and change over time, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst. Do what feels right for the story you're trying to tell. For example, Garret was originally supposed to be more calculated and methodical. Marcelo was originally supposed to be a lot more laid back and go with the flow. However when I actually started writing them in specific scenarios I realized that they're far more complex than a simplified list of traits. Flaws and weaknesses make them feel so much more real than a "perfect" gary/mary stu.

When it comes to facial expressions, I usually have a small mirror on my desk to observe and reference specific expressions I'm trying to convey. In addition to using the mirror as a reference point, I also tend to make whatever face I'm drawing as I'm drawing it. It's a little silly, but I find it really helpful feeling my facial muscles recreate the same expression. It helps me figure out what the brows, eyes, and mouth are doing at the same time. It's gotten to the point of doing it subconsciously whenever I work/animate/draw. (Fortunately I usually work from home so no one has to see my weird expressions lol)

I think the final and most important tip you should take to heart is to create characters you genuinely enjoy. It'll also help you stay motivated to keep writing them and developing the story, especially early on in the creation process.

Hopefully you found my rambling helpful! It ended up being a bit more of a brain dump than I originally intended haha. That being said, I'd love to see what kind of characters and game you end up creating in the future! <3

[girlylukehughes]

lake house takeover

ethan edwards x zegras!reader

ynzegras just posted!

liked by jackhughes and 726,814 others

ynzegras: summer on film! (shout out to jack and quinn for letting me steal your house for the last two weeks of august! i love you guys!)

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jackhughes: you're welcome! at least it was spotless when we got back unlike when i let someone else, *cough trevorzegras cough*, have it for two days.

^ynzegras: yeah he still can't work the dishwasher in his apartment jamie calls me just so we can laugh at him

^^trevorzegras: i hate you both.

trevorzegras: literally who's birthday was it

^ynzegras: no one's we just wanted cake

_quinnhughes: why didn't you have this camera for the first half of summer?

^ynzegras: i did i just wanted to keep my film for the girls trip!

^^lhughes06: lame 👎🏻

edwards.73: we need the film cam when you take media pics

^markestapa: i agree

^^dylanduke25: me too

^^^lucafantilli: me three

^^^^ynzegras: it'll be there

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ynzegras just posted!

liked by edwards.73 and 993,241 others

ynzegras: full summer dump!

tagged: trevorzegras, markestapa, mackie.samo, edwards.73, colecaufield, jackhughes, _alexturcotte, lhughes06, g.brindley4, _quinnhughes

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trevorzegras: WHO IS THAT

trevorzegras: YN WHO THE FUCK IS THAT

^ynsegras: shhhhhhh

^^trevorzegras: WHAT

lhughes06: oh you're bold for this one

^ynzegras: it's an arm🤷🏻‍♀️ he can't work a dishwasher i doubt he can go all fbi with an arm

mackie.samo: i still swear on everything a fish bit me that night.

edwards.73: markestapa mackie.samo we look so good here

^markestapa: we so do

^^mackie.samo: we really do

^^^ynzegras: i agree

^^^^trevorzegras: WHAT IS THIS

colecaufield: miss you baby z!

^ynzegras: miss you too!

_alexturcotte: literally how did you get that picture

^ynzegras: im the one you sent it to while you were wasted😭

_quinnhughes: i miss that coconut

^jackhughes: they were so good

lhughes06: out of all the pics you took that has to be the worst one of me and gavin.

^g.brindley4: i honestly don't remember taking that.

^^ynhughes: it's the only one that not blurry 😐

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edwards.73: 🐄👦🏻

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ynzegras: well you know what they say!

liked by edwards.73

lhughes06: and what if i send this to her brother

^ynzegras: luke hughes if you so dare i will get my happy ass on a flight to nj and use the spare key jack gave me to beat your ass

^^lhughes06: you're broke how are you gonna get a flight

^^^ynzegras: trevor's still logged into american airlines on my phone it'll charge him

^^^^lhughes06:....currently replacing the locks

trevorzegras: hmmmmm

^ynzegras: go away

dylanduke25: a cowboy is a man, typically one on horseback, who herds and tends cattle, especially in the western US and as represented in westerns and novels.

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ynzegras just posted!

liked by markestapa and 937,217 others

ynzegras: save a horse!

tagged: edwards.73

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trevorzegras: luke you were supposed to make sure this DIDNT happen.

^ynzegras: funny story... me and ethan met BEFORE umich. we traded snaps when we were seniors in high school

^^trevorzegras: WHAT

^^^lhughes06: WHAT

^^^^markestapa: WHAT

^^^^^ynzegras: trevorzegras remember when you LEFT ME at that mall in canada? when i said i got an uber i lied, i met ethan and he drove me back to the airbnb

edwards.73: you're so pretty

^ynzegras: mwah mwah mwah

colecaufield: baby z pulls?

^ynzegras: i do!

user61: puck bunny

^ynzegras: fangirls when my first and only boyfriend plays hockey

^^user83: oh she cleared😭

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navigation



[paeliae-occasionally]

hi pae pae!!!

what is your process of designing your maps? and how do you approach lore? how does that brilliant mind of your work to create such fascinating history and complex worldbuilding?

je would like to know the trade secrets pretty pls

p.s. how far along are you on xaeren? if it’s not far enough, im afraid i’m going to have to start protesting soon… 😔

p.p.s. before you say school is taking up your time—understandable. have a great day. keep being brilliant. i just really want more xaeren content.

p.p.p.s. in my head, i imagine xaeren as so mighty fine that there’s an occult in some middle school of a suburban neighborhood with an old classroom turned into a shrine for his feral fangirls to host club meetings simping over him

that’s it’s. that’s all the pspspsppsss i have. miss you! have a great day! cheerios!

Hello Naveena! Lots of questions! We will go through them one at a time.

What is your process of designing your maps?

So with maps I will start by just noting down the history and current function of the city which gives me an idea of style and layout e.g. all of the cities that were part of the Laith’Edrels have lots of circular designs whereas a modern altic city may have more typical alleyways and rectangular buildings Next I plot in the districts of the city, like where the upper class live, where the high streets are etc. I also add any key buildings at this time, like a plot relevant church or a mages tower. Lastly I go back in and draw boxes and house shapes for 2 hours.

How do you approach lore?

A lot of my lore is just a set of stories where I look at a place on the map, or a group of people and go ‘what could have happened here?’ The bigger worldbuilding points like the dissolution came from me wanting to have magical decay from fewer more powerful beings to more less powerful beings, so I needed gods. However it always frustrates me when there are canonically gods in a world who just sit back and ignore the world crashing and burning as one frustrated hero has to fix the problem, so I made a reason for them to be gone

History and worldbuilding

Honestly a lot of my history writing was based off of the large amounts of real life history I read in my free time. Studying how cities and empires develop then putting my own spin on them because magic would change some things. Worldbuilding comes from my maps really. I will label different cultures on the map then come up with myths and legends for that culture, magic specific to them or their ancestors, wars and internal conflict. Then that spirals into pages of notes on the socioeconomic background for Onkairel. It is lots of fun.

“would like to know the trade secrets” she says after writing a whole book with detailed political lore and plenty of depth to the world.

You know the secrets. You also know the secrets to actually writing the book too.

So about Xaeren…

I will be writing the scene where he meets Kell soon so I will tag you in it when I do, but you are right about the school work :( so it may take a little while.

“an occult in some middle school of a suburban neighborhood with an old classroom turned into a shrine for his feral fangirls to host club meetings simping over him”

So you say that jokingly… No, to be fair he isn’t known for his an appearance but he is quite well known in Zairel as an assassin and member of house Hiresias. He is terrifying and intriguing to many because of his unique magic that Lysandri can’t explain so I would not be surprised if there was discussion of him in the lower ranks of Lysandri and Hiresias.

I will write some Xaeren soon. Have a lovely day <3

[camiefromstatefarm]

We're back with some more 'Upper Moon Demons' headcanons!!! Today, we're focusing on my personal favorite. Slight NSFW warning.

Upper Moon 4

Hantengu/Hanito Jigoku (Part 1)

- Born in 1611, in a less populated town near Kyōto City.

Koki Jigoku, his father, was an extremely handsome and charismatic ladies' man. Parenthood was unexpected, but his heart melted when he saw his newborn son, who bore a striking resemblance to him. Despite his love for his wife, Koki struggled to abandon his womanizing ways..

Otsuru Jigoku (née Aisaki), his mother, was a strikingly attractive young woman with a caring personality. She had sun-kissed skin, a slender yet dramatic lean body, reminiscent of Devon Aoki, a heart-shaped face, warm brown hair, and silver to orchid eyes always filled with energy. Otsuru loved her husband intensely, but her love often turned deranged, driving her to murderous jealousy towards his frequent infidelities. She came from a wealthy family.

- Even as a young boy, Hanito was a stunningly handsome child with a sturdy athletic build and tanned skin. His spiky black hair messy and full, framing his brooding heart-shaped face and accentuating his piercing onyx eyes. His eyebrows were thick and expressive, often laced with a dramatic display of emotions. His features were sharp and chiseled, with high cheekbones and a straight high-bridged nose. He also bore a mischievous devilish grin.

- Hanito's life of crime began at just seven years old, not out of necessity, but sheer desire and bad influences. He ran with a trio of urchin boys, forming a band of young thieves who stole whatever they could to fill their pockets. Surprisingly, his parents, Koki and Otsuru, didn't reprimand him for his delinquent behavior. Instead, they adopted a lenient approach, telling him that as long as he avoided getting caught, he wouldn't face trouble at home. This unconventional parenting allowed Hanito to hone his thieving skills, shaping him into a skilled young thief.

- Stealing meant buying whatever they wanted, but for free. Hanito-kun rarely strayed from his tight-knit group, seeking the safety net of their protection. Hanito had a knack for evading capture, thanks to three key factors: his incredible speed, his skillful lying and manipulation, which convinced people he was just an innocent child, and his loyal clique of local fangirls who often helped him out of sticky situations.

Emiko-chan, gasps: Girls! Here comes Hanito-kun, act natural!

(Hanito passes by and smiles slightly before leaving)

Sakura-chan, giggles: You see that? He smiled at me!

Yumi-chan, cooing: No, I'm pretty sure he had his eyes on me!

Emiko-chan, huffing: Nuh uh! He was definitely checking out my hair!

(None of them realizing their missing hairpins)

Hanito, gripping all 3 hair pins: Too easy.

- The manifestations of Hantengu's emotions take on physical forms that reflect the age where he experienced those emotions most intensely.

Zohakuten 👹

Year 1623; a store clerk by the name of Mr. Yamada was fed up with the troublesome child's lies.

Hanito, defiantly: Let me go you big bully! There really was a wolf!

(He struggles trying to free his ear from the store clerk's harsh grip)

Mr. Yamada, angrily opens the door: Otsuru, your brat is at it againー

Horrifying. There knelt Otsuru ominously, in a tattered old kimono ー stained with blood spatter, one she kept specifically for these occasions ー with an ecstatic expression. Before her lay the lifeless body of a curvaceous young woman, a ravishing beauty with a face like a porcelain doll and dark sea-green hair. Her thighs impaled by two knives and her pale mint eyes froze in perpetual horror, surrounded by beads of sweat.

Otsuru, glances behind her: Ah, welcome Yamada-sama! Do come in, we're having a family reunion of sorts...

Hanito swiftly averted his gaze, closing his eyes to shield himself from the uncomfortable graphics. His reaction betrayed a familiarity with his mother's brutal outbursts, a hint that he had witnessed her madness before. In contrast, Mr. Yamada stood frozen, his voice caught in his throat as shock and terror rendered him speechless.

(Otsuru rose, her movements graceful like a cat)

Otsuru, curls her lips: And you, dear friend, are just in time for dinner. I do hope you have an... appetite for the macabre.

(She walks closer making Mr. Yamada free his grasp on Hanito's ear, slowly retreating)

Mr. Yamada, sweating: No... no! What have you done to that poor woman!

Otsuru, pats her son's head: Hush now, everything is fine... I'm bound to tidy the house after this.

Hanito, crying: How much more that nasty stuff is going to happen here?

Otsuru, gently and soothing: Darling, you know I don't have other options...

Mr. Yamada, pointing: You... what are you teaching that poor child, youー you crazy bitch!

Otsuru's eyes blazed with a dark intensity, her gaze flashing like a stormy sky. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with malevolence, as the unhinged madness gave way to a sinister wrath. Her long hair whipped around her face like a flail, as if the wind itself was fueling her fury. Her stained kimono fluttering behind her like a dark cloud.

Otsuru, in an ominous voice: Forgive me, good sir... but I'm afraid you've dug your own grave!

(A knife slid out of her sleeve and she launched at him. However, Mr. Yamada was quicker and dodged her attack)

Mr. Yamada, cornering her from behind: So reckless...

Hanito, yelling: Momma!

(Basically what happened was Mr. Yamada managed to grab Otsuru's wrist, twisting it, forcing her to drop the knife, and knocked the woman out.)

Mr. Yamada, grumbles: I'd be damned if I wasn't a former martial artist. I'm sorry to say it, kid, but your mother's actions have earned her a reckoning. She'll face trial and judgment for her wrongdoings.

Hanito's tear-stained face twisted into a furious scowl, his large bushy eyebrows furrowing in anger. His piercing eyes narrowed, flashing with intense animosity, his glare so heavy that it almost crushed the store clerk. It was unnerving to see how this boy could be both seriously handsome and intimidatingly fierce at the same time.

Hanito, darkly: You evil son of prick! Leave my momma alone or... or I'll kill you!

(He charges at Mr. Yamada attempting to punch the latter, but was triped over by Yamada's sliding kick)

Mr. Yamada, lifts Otsuru up: Don't try to fight me, Hanito, I'm three times your size.

Hanito, grabbing onto Yamada's ankle: No!!! I won't let a scumbag like you give me orders!!!

(Hanito twists Yamada's ankle causing the latter to wince and kick him back)

Mr. Yamada, scoffs: Blasted child. You're lucky I respect your father enough to let you off the hook.

The 12-year-old's rage thickened, his glare twice as spiteful as he rose from his position, gracefully like the fall was nothing. He balled both hands fist, ready to spring into action when two people showed up. A samurai and a middle-aged woman with the same green hair as the victim.

Samurai, analyzing the situation: So if I'm correct, this was the lady who your daughter was last seen with.

(The middle-aged woman just nodded)

Mr. Yamada: I fear to inform you... that your daughter is dead...

(The middle-aged woman weaped)

Mr. Yamada, frowning: I was just taking her son, Hanito, back home. That kid has been in a lot of hot water lately, I wanted to have a word with Otsuru about this...

Hanito, looks down bitterly: I was telling the truth...

Mr. Yamada, shouts: There was no wolf and never one to begin with!

Samurai, tapping chin: Note the freshness of the blood suggests the incident occurred within the past 30 minutes.

Mr. Yamada, still disturbed: The girl is inside. Poor thing was bleeding head to toe.

This was a night no one forgotten, especially Zohakuten who held onto that memory like an ideology.

Basically after that fiasco, Otsuru was convinced of 13 accounts of homicide and sentenced to death by hanging. Nobody wanted to inform Hanito what happened to his mother, believing it'd be too hard on him.

- To cope with the void left by his mother's absence, Hanito's fragile mind conjured a distorted narrative, convincing himself that she was a monster who had abandoned him, rather than confront the painful truth of her fate.

- After his mother's departure, Hanito spent his remaining teenage years by his father's side. Seeking a new beginning, they relocated to Gion, a prestigious district in Kyōto renowned for its vibrant entertainment and traditional geisha culture.

- Hanito only grew more handsome by the day. His voice deepened, and he became taller & stronger. His spiky hair had grown longer, reaching his shoulders. His heart-shaped face still brooded with intensity, but his features had matured, sharpening his cheekbones and nose. His piercing onyx eyes smoldering and framed by thick eyebrows that gave him a debonair look. At thirteen, he was already the most attractive guy in Gion.

- He idolized his womanizer father, emulating his ways but with a more sinister edge.

Hanito, exclaiming: Father, teach me how to charm the ladies!

Koki, smiling: Ah, my son, it's all about confidence and charm. Watch and learn!

- As young Hanito honed his skills, his reputation grew, and so did his ego. He began to see himself as a legend, a master of charm and deception. And his father, well, he was the one who had taught him everything he knew.

- He employed his charms to lure unsuspecting girls into his trap, only to rob them blind. Unlike his father, Koki, who had treated his mistresses with kindness and sincerity, Hanito's intentions were far more dark. He delighted in leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake, his beauty and charisma mere tools for exploitation. With each conquest, Hanito's confidence grew, as did his reputation as a heartless Casanova.

His father, Koki, looked on with a mix of pride and concern, aware of the darkness brewing within his son. Yet, he remained silent, allowing Hanito's destructive path to continue unchecked.

- At 14, Hanito experienced his first kiss under the soft glow of a lantern on a bench, in a secluded area of the Gion District. Maiya, his girlfriend, rested her head on his shoulder, her gentle eyes sparkling in the dim light. With his arm wrapped around her, Hanito felt a sense of vulnerability he'd never known before. As their lips touched, he tasted the sweetness of innocence, leaving him breathless. Maiya may not have been as pretty as the ryotei girls who often fawned over him, but to Hanito, she was cute in her own right. Her gentle soul and kind eyes captivated him. In that moment, Hanito felt like a different kind of man.

- Unfortunately, their relationship wouldn't last very long. Hanito's temper and insensitivity brought Maiya distress. Because of that, their relationship ended on bad terms that would leave the spiky-haired boy with his guard up.

- On his 16th birthday, Hanito's life took a reckless turn. He lost his virginity in a wild encounter with three bad bitches in one room, quite tumultuous but worth it.

Rorerei: a former geisha that kind of resembles a young Meisa Kuroki.

Kyoka: the daughter of the second wealthiest man in town & somewhat resembles young Fukada Kyoko.

Nozomi: a waitress who looked a bit like a young Nozomi Sasaki.

- They'd do it again the next night in the same Ryokan. Hanito enjoyed every minute of it. A cute girl named Mika ー cousin of Maiya ー would walk in on them while trying to find her room. This would fluster the young man greatly. However, Mika was... chilled with it and even joined in the fun.

When Maiya found out about what happened, she gave her cousin a 48 hour long lecture.

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Aizetsu 😿

- At 18, Hanito's world was shattered when his father, Koki, died under mysterious circumstances. The discovery of Koki's lifeless body at dawn, drained of blood and beyond salvation, left Hanito reeling. Consumed by grief and abandonment, he plummeted into a dark depression, desperately seeking solace from the anguish. In his darkest moments, Hanito attempted to escape the pain through self-destructive means, but the void left by his father's absence only seemed to grow.

Aizetsu is the second physically youngest of Hantengu's clones. Since Hanito would no longer wore his hair spiky after turning 19.

- This led him craving solitude in the most somber area of Nishijin, where he could escape the world for a while. His only companion was a Japanese Bobtail cat he found injured by the roadside. He took her in, nursing her back to health by bandaging her paw and feeding her. He named her Usui, inspired by the rain that fell on the day they met.

- This was the second time Hanito displayed compassion towards another being. Together, he and Usui weathered the rainy days, a somber but comforting duo in the midst of Kyoto's bustling streets.

- In moments of introspection, Hanito would often hear his father's gentle voice whispering in his mind, urging him to stay strong and press on. The memory of Koki's words, though faint, remained a comforting presence, echoing through Hanito's thoughts like a soft breeze on a summer night.

- Eleven months later, Usui would find her siblings again. Although Hanito didn't want her to go, he did as he knew what it was like to be separated from family. But not before Usui rubbed against her close companion's leg and purred contentedly.

This version of Hanito became the base/blueprint for Aizetsu's creation. Each clone gain power using a series of events in Hanito's 87 years everytime he'd experience that emotion.

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Karaku 💚

Year 1630; was when Hanito finally decided to move again and start over.

- Having grown into a stunningly gorgeous young man, his hair grew moderately past shoulder-length and wavy in a very sexy, satisfying, and stylish sense. His charm and good looks intensified, making him a magnet and true Casanova Killer. With his narrow piercing gaze, captivating smile, thick eyebrows, lean muscular build, nimble fingers, and glowing tawny skin, he was extremely irresistible to many. His voice fully deepened, and he grew taller, exuding confidence and allure.

- New year, new him. Hanito moved to Shimabara, a fascinating red-light district in Kyōto where life was an endless party.

- Hanito got to try liquor for the first time. A quarter cup of shochu mixed with ¾ cup of yuzu was enough to satisfy his taste buds. By the way, when he says the ladies at Shimabara were fine, he means it. During his time in Shimabara, he found himself hooking up with every woman who flirted with him. And that's saying a lot because Hanito was the talk of all town, a head-turner. Husbands would told onto their wives more closely at the charmer's presence, bachelors envied Hanito and wanted to be him and some were even mesmerized, many maidens found themselves falling for his charms and brooding persona, and the top most gorgeous women would even spend the night with him. As a result, Hanito acted overly cocky and prideful in many situations.

Let's just say, the ladies at Shimabara were like Makio/Mitsuri/Daki-level badness. Effortlessly pretty faces, voluptuous figures, stylish sense of fashion, sexy, and hot personalities.

- Let's just say, Hanito almost encountered the dreaded Kukushisen (Syphilis) this one fateful night. Nana, the chick he was with was really hot and was very experienced, luckily she brought mika (paper condoms) with her and they had a blast.

- Hanito actually first met Muzan at a party....

Hantengu's name holds a dual meaning, translating to both "Braggart" and "Half Tengu". The former suggests that The Demon King encountered him in a state of boastful pride, while the latter reveals a connection to the mythical Tengu creatures from Japanese folklore. Tengu are known for their striking appearance, featuring wings, beaks, and formidable magical abilities, as well as their mischievous and powerful nature. This namesake is fitting, as Hantengu's Blood Demon Art allows him to split his body in half, unleashing Tengu-like clones that embody the same quick and cunning spirit as their mythical counterparts.

- Unfortunately, they never got the chance to interact as the party got raided by a bunch of drunken thugs. However, despite being initially annoyed by Hanito's ego and two-faced nature, Muzan was intrigued by his soon-to-be-UM4's ability to charm and pickpocket people.

- Hanito's journey would take an interesting turn as he developed sadomasochistic tendencies. This transformation began with a chance encounter, where he found himself engaged in a captivating conversation with an alluring older woman... whose name remains a mystery. Deciding to step outside for some alone time, she pretty much... just dined in, left an indelible mark on his sensitive place. The sensation made him wince, but somehow he was enjoying it.

- Giving and receiving pain was more than just a fetish. He found himself really enjoying the suffering of people who wronged him. Heartbreak no longer hurt anymore, he was addicted to agony it brought him. Pain was pleasure.

- At 21, Hanito visited his boyhood town, only to discover his old home gone. In its place stood an Inari Shrine, alongside a garden where 13 graves lay next to cherry blossom trees in silent remembrance. He thought this view was rather satisfying and pleasing.

After Otsuru's heinous crimes came to light, the authorities embarked on a meticulous investigation, meticulously dismantling the house piece by piece to uncover the gruesome secrets within. Their grim task was to retrieve the remains of the 13 unfortunate women who had fallen victim to her brutality, whose bodies had been hidden or buried in various clandestine locations throughout the dwelling.

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Urogi 🕊

Years 1623-1632, the town's population and commercial activities would slowly increase throughout the years.

The trio of urchins Hanito used to hang out with years ago were now successful yashi/yamichi (peddlers) ー by the way; their names were Bakuto, Omaru, and Kaito respectively: smooth-talking salesmen who may not be the honest people when it came selling things (Scam Artist Douma-san from the Academy AU should really hire these guys)

You may or may not have remembered the three girls who were obsessed with Hanito from the beginning. Emiko embraced her distinctive hair color - a pale silver with a soft baby blue undertone - rejecting the pressure to conform by dyeing it black. Meanwhile, Sakura harbored subtle affections for Yumi, but ultimately chose duty over desire and married a lord. In contrast, Yumi found true happiness with Omaru, her heart full of joy in their union.

Sakura, curiously: Who is that tall, dark, strong, and handsome brute over there?

Yumi, blushing: You're telling me. He's a snack.

Sakura, in a teasing voice: But, Yumi-chan. What about Omaru?

Yumi, nervous giggles: Oh, yeah... I forgot.

Emiko, looks up from sweeping: Girls? The porch isn't gunna clean itself.

Sakura, without looking away: Just a minute Emiko. We're too busy swooning over this hot new boy.

Emiko, raises a brow: Who?

(She walks over, trying to get a peak)

Emiko, surprised: H-Hanito-sama?

Well, they were both surprised to see each other. Emiko has now grown into the most beautiful woman Hanito has ever see. With her fierce meadow green eyes, flowy white hair, adorable smile, delicate frame, femininity, and great personality; she became the first woman he ever truly loved.

And Emiko; she always had a thing for that boy. Even after realizing he swiftly swiped her hair pin when they were little. She was absolutely smitten upon seeing this man again. He made her heart sing like no other person has.

- The time Hanito spent with Emiko were the best 2 months of his life. They shared an instant connection, discovering a deep affinity for each other's interests and values. Hanito, attuned to the subtleties of human emotions, realized his feelings for Emiko went beyond friendship after just three weeks of togetherness - he had fallen deeply in love.

- They got married on the first day of July, in the same Inari Shrine built where Hanito's childhood home used to be. He was overjoyed by this event, believing he might have a chance to a normal life.

- After bidding farewell to the town, they escaped to a serene foothill of Mt. Hiei, where they built a secluded haven near the charming town of Sakamoto.

"We are in love in love, haven't you heard. How we rock each other's world!"

(- Avril Lavigne)

Well that was fun to write! Considering Hantengu's backstory wasn't as detailed or shown like some of the other characters, and due the fact that he lived a relatively long human life... It made room for plenty of creativity.