#i hope my interpretation of her makes sense
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salbertwolf · 2 days ago
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Sevika's Ending (But for real I don't think it's an Act 3 issue... It's an Act 2)
See, hindsight is a very powerful tool that helps us visualize when things should've been done differently. Hindsight is realizing I shouldn't have been a coward back in my early teens and should've gotten a headstart on youtube, alas we are here. Hindsight in this case, is judging the way act 3 of Arcane ended in relation to the show and where they went wrong, if they did.
I genuinely, genuinely loved the show, and like the ending, I think the conclusion of the characters makes sense with the way they were presented, despite my previous post regarding Sevika's ending maybe being interpreted as "Character assassination", it wasn't, I think taking a position of leadership inside of Zaun was what she needed. My post mainly came from the heartache taking that position must bring her, now with emptions more settled after episode 9, I wanted to touch on the fact that, for me, the issue with the conclusion wasn't an Act 3 problem, rather an Act 2, because Sevika's arc concludes in act 2.
Now, Wants vs Needs is something character arcs are usually based around, what your character wants is not necessarily what your character needs. In this case, Sevika's arc follows this structure pretty well, she does not want to be in a position of power, rather reserving her loyalties to someone she considers better fit to lead, this however comes to an issue as she, more often than not, is the only one willing to put her actions where her words are, she is calm, collected, and knows loyalties better than anyone, she exhibits qualities a leader should have, but the issue is that the attention of the world around her, much like our own, is taken by figures bigger than her, Vander, Silco, Jinx. This leads her to the logical conclusion of being the support rather than the spotlight.
Let us recall then the scene in episode 4 of Sevika rallying the Undercity residents by the Vander statue, this is a big moment in the story, and possibly the culmination of her arc, she has spent her life following, and now the latest person she tries to follow is unwilling to risk everything for their city, so she must step up.
This may look as a "She can't lead" moment, I would rather take it as a point of change of perspective for the people of the Undercity, of the fact that while a Symbol is necessary for hope, you can't let it dictate the capacity for fighting, that's why Isha shows up and lights the flare, are you willing to follow just the person? Or do you want to follow the ideal? And if you follow the ideal, does it matter the person that leads you if they know and respect that ideal? This is an important oment in Sevika's arc, the realization that she can do it, she can lead.
And that's why I find it a bit, confusing WHY we weren't given a scene of a conversation between her and Jinx regarding Jinx stepping down from a leadership position, as, pardon if I'm interpreting wrong, as the narrative clearly indicates by taking a detour to solve the Vanderwick plot.
What I'm proposing is basically a writer's scene (a scene that is really only for the writers to know, as what it does it take time that could be better spent elsewhere), but I think 1 moment with Sevika and the Firelights in episode 5, following the prison break, would solve the issue of not really getting WHY she would end up in the council.
In regards to her ending, why I consider it making a bit of sense, is that yes, Zaun did not become independent, and yes, she's in a position of many enemies, but treating her position as having no allies is ignoring the fact she's one of only 2 councilors in the room that chose to stay, I know in my ending break down I put it as forcing her to sit down and accept responsability, clearly that was not the intention for her arc.
I don't think a whole episode was needed to finish her arc, but definetly a scene, she needed a scene, one more scene.
But maybe it's just me, anyway-
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secretarysong · 5 months ago
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so much Mayday stuff (& a smidgeon of Vinyl City worldbuilding) in my head. ooouugghh. wrote this at 12am last night and i'm not the best at articulating my thoughts so forgive me as this wooonnt be the most polished. this is likee a mini conglomeration of personal headcanons and a bit of analysis (reading too far into things) ... i just wanna talk about her REEEAALLL BAAADDDD
i've always thought of Mayday as someone so deeply intertwined with Vinyl City (specifically the working-class & lower-class areas; the 'little guys') that her dream of becoming a big famous rockstar also stems from a desire for agency/power. power to be able to do SOMETHING in the name of her communities after personally living through, like, 2 decades of neglect—condemned by NSR to live in the shadow of the more tourist-oriented/commercial/profitable parts of the city—even if it means rising to charterhood under the same stupid record label that's the source of all her problems in the first place ...
i also like to believe this, in tandem with her rumbustious nature, is why Mayday IMMEDIATELY switches to aggression (dare i call it a TV meltdown...?) following her & Zuke's flames being so harshly snuffed out during the Lights Up Audition.
Mayday was probably warned beforehand by the adults around her about the EDM bias. i think she ignored/dismissed every warning/dissuasion because she believed in herself and her ability and her principles too unshakably for her own good. and then for the judges (particularly Tatiana) to unanimously strike her dream down like that, thus proving their warnings right & her hard work (and ignorance) in vain... FURY!!!! (Mayday is NOT the best at taking losses with grace)
and then the banning of Rock from the Lights Up Audition happens. and then the subsequent blackout and diversion of energy happens. and seeing the extent of what happens across the city with her own eyes from atop the ledge (after being limited to her own ground-level experiences on the outside, looking inward) is what finally tips her over the edge and into the vat of a full-blown revolution.
semi-related, but i also view Mayday's hatred towards EDM as. like. a general prejudice. it goes a bit deeper than just Not liking the sound/style; she associates it with NSR, and therefore links it with everything wrong with Vinyl City. rock music, a dying art in the era being upheld by her tightly-knit community, untouched by NSR, to her is authenticity.
she also loathes the "Order leads to progress in Vinyl City." slogan because, to her, order means complacency... and complacency has done shit all for anyone she knows. ("If chaos is what is needed to get things done around here, so be it!")
i know i'm kind of bouncing back to the second paragraph but. like. there's just something so dear to me about the idea of a Mayday whose a roving city girl from off the streets... armed with her guitar, her passion, and her support system, doing everything she can to prevent rock—her home—from becoming irrelevant. always chasing a fantasy about being something bigger than herself. even if the odds are stacked against her. even if Mayday's own impetuosity is a double-edged sword that impedes her just as much as it enables her.
to me she's. like. a melting pot of ambition and stubbornness and righteousness and naievite. Mayday girl i love you SOOOOOO SOOOOOOOOO MUCH ideally i would put this all into a legitimate form of writing like a backstory fic or something but gah i don't even know where to START
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thebramblewood · 11 months ago
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This book might as well be called So Your Deadbeat Vampire Dad Abandoned You: What Now?
Previous / Next
Helena, thinking: Well, if it’s just going to sit there, I might as well read the thing…
Introduction: Vampirism is no easy existence and will certainly not be long endured by the weak-willed, faint of heart, or squeamish. Fledglings who lack the knowledge or means to satisfy their all-consuming thirst and guard against their newfound weaknesses are far less likely to survive the initial stages of transformation, in which the craving for blood threatens to override all capacity for self-control. If they find themselves lucky enough to be under the tutelage of an intelligent and attentive sire, young vampires can not only mature but thrive for many centuries in their strange new forms. However, the presence of such a devoted mentor is not always guaranteed. Therefore, this book aims to serve as an instructional guide to attending to one’s needs and harnessing one’s abilities for those newly turned vampires who find themselves without a teacher.
Helena, thinking: Hmm, it's almost a little bit too on the nose.
Chapter 1: Dark Form Mastery
Helena, thinking: God, I feel ridiculous. Did it even work? It’d be nice if I could see my reflection right now.
Chapter 2: Bat Manifestation and Flight
Helena, thinking: Here goes nothing, I guess.
OW! OOF!
That’s going to take some practice.
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welcometogrouchland · 1 year ago
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Hello, another doodle compilation post of everything I haven't posted since the period of May to now that I didn't hate but didn't like enough to post on its own + fanart i made of @catboymoments's fankids Azura and Hyacinth! I'm not normally a fankid person but these guys are a whole moment unto themselves I love them sm. ID in alt text bc it was getting lengthy! Let me know if there's any issues
#the owl house#toh#luz noceda#willow park#gus porter#hunter toh#(he's there too! just very small. let me have this)#i had a lot of fun trying to figure out Hyacinth and Azura! they were unfamiliar so it was a challenge#hyacinth especially doesn't have a face I'd normally draw but i ended up really enjoying getting out of my comfort zone for him#i hope all the details translated well and that i interpreted aspects of their designs correctly?#i ended up accidentally giving Azura a slightly hooked nose bc i for some reason thought she had one? also struggled w/ her mouth a tad#but i decided to keep it in bc it made her face more unique lol. i already draw amity with a hooked nose so it kind of makes sense#you could say it's from alador though (which was also how i justified the way i drew her mouth since i normally draw Luz's differently-#-just imagine she got it from Camila)#also i recognize thst Hyacinth's cane arm is wonky?? really sorry about that! he was leaning on it a certain way in the ref photo#and i tried to replicate that but. eh#It's been a weird difficult time art wise recently#mainly cause of the hiatus I had to take cause of exams that I'm still recovering from.#Probably gonna end up taking another art/posting break (though we'll see how that all plays out??)#it's been a weird few weeks but not bad. I'm just kind of. trying to remain chill!#kinds wanna rewatch but I'm always afraid I'll overindulge and get sick of the shows i love 😭 but also the longer i go w/o rewatching#the more insane i become. like the joker#I've also been slightly back into comics recently and it sucks. i hate it here fr let me out#but yeah that's where we are rn at ladel studios. just chilling i think!#i like it. gonna see if i can cultivate it as a skill
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moodmoodthecrabking · 7 months ago
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sapphic alice woodward moodboard requested by anon
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sailforvalinor · 1 year ago
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Idk if this is controversial, but studying for a English/writing degree at university shouldn’t make you NOT want to engage with writing or literature. Just a thought.
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caeslxys · 4 months ago
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"I’ve seen a lot of people say that the Hells will side with the gods and I don’t think I agree. Especially as Imogen has been scolded and villainized over and over for daring to try and save her mother—who herself has been seen by some as an irredeemable evil in spite of her drive being the exact same—her family—but when it’s the Gods it’s justified? When it’s the Gods, it’s sympathetic? Too sympathetic to criticize further than “they’re family”?"
good meta op, but i'm slightly confused about this part. are you talking of the fandom here or the narrative? because from what i've seen and remember, imogen has definitely been scolded or villanized as you say, by the fandom, but has she been treated that way by the hells or anyone else? i guess keyleth comes to mind, but apart from that, the hells seemed supportive of her wanting to reach out and reconcile with her mom.
Prefacing what i'm sure will be an overly long mostly tangent: you obviously do not have to agree with my interpretations of any scene I'm about to bring up and if you don't sick cool please do not make it a problem
A bit of both, to be honest! The use of the word “villainizing” was definitely more geared toward fandom response, but Imogen has absolutely been scolded—or maybe shamed is the better word—in campaign several times! Yes by Keyleth threatening her in front of them all just for being ruidusborn and related to Liliana, but also by Orym in particular several times.
Which is not to say that Orym doesn’t want Imogen to save her mother—obviously he does!—but it has definitely been more than once that he has shut down her grief and her processing her relationship with her mother by inserting his own grief over it, notably in the immediate aftermath of Ruidus and convo with Liliana.
(Which, yes, he immediately apologized for, but I do find it interesting that Imogen got shit from fandom for her response in the scene I'm about to bring up in episode 49 for EVER but no one was allowed to criticize Orym's response as impulsive and insensitive there and he notably was not disassociating or being actively manipulated. Just think it's interesting!)
And while it wasn’t nearly so livid in it’s delivery, that moment in 49 where she was just trying to process seeing her mother and speaking with her and being presented with the idea of peace for the first time in her life was delivered (though you could argue this wasn’t his intent; honestly I don’t think it was, but—) in a way that immediately had her plummeting into self-deprecating apologies for being effectively manipulated. I’ve actually written a bit before about how I find the youth of his grief making it more volatile in comparison to the rest of the hells’ grief deeply compelling as a thematic beat!
That’s a bit of a tangent just bc I find specifically the dynamic between Orym/Imogen/Liliana to be a very compelling one lmao but even in the Uthodurn arc with Chetney insight checking her to see if she was telling the truth or not about her intentions with her mother. Or Fearne bringing up to Orym (also back in 49) the question of what they planned to do with/to her if she turned. It's not that I think, necessarily, that those were ill intentioned but they were coming from a place of, at best, mistrust specifically because of her connection to Liliana. Really only Ashton and Laudna—and FCG, funnily enough—have not in some way taken her grief and yearning and turned against her when it comes to placing their trust in her (whether she was aware they did so or not), which of course speaks to a certain interpretation they had of her character at the time.
And, also, this has obviously since changed and most of them mostly understand where she’s coming from now—especially Orym!—but it doesn’t make the fact that it happened any less true!
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the-eclectic-wonderer · 2 months ago
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For the character asks, Blanche. Questions 8, 10 & 12 😊
hiii friend!! thank you for the questions!! <3
8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?
Oh wow. This is a dangerous question, haha!
‘Despise' is a pretty strong word. I feel like the one thing I really can't stand is character assassination (although this is true for every character I like, to be honest). I'm not the authority on what makes Blanche Blanche, of course, but I have seen a few instances when it felt like people only saw the superficial parts of her and forgot about everything else, you know what I mean? Thankfully that's pretty rare around these parts though :)
There's one thing that's more specifically Blanche-related that's a pet-peeve of mine, and it’s the accent thing. I don't really like it when accents are explicitly written down in fanfic, and since Blanche is the one with the strongest accent in the cast, this happens to her sometimes. I just want to point out that this is not wrong per se, it's just a me thing! I prefer to 'hear’ the accent in my mind while I read — if I have to stop and parse the meaning of a sentence mid-action, it's harder for me to fully immerse myself in the story. I don't mind the occasional truncation of a 'g' at the end of a verb, or the odd 'y'all' in a phrase, but if every sentence is written like that it does get a bit hard for me 😅 once again though, this is just my personal preference, and I definitely don't despise the practice.
10. Could you be best friends with this character?
I'm actually not sure how to answer this! If we didn't know each other at all, I think we'd need to be in a situation where we have to spend some time together in order to become friends (like, idk, working together or something like that). We don't share lots of interests (appreciation for art aside), and her passion for men would definitely throw me off at the beginning, so I'd need a reason to spend time with her to get to know her! But we are more similar than we seem, so once I did get to know her better, I'd love to be her friend :) we'd probably drive each other crazy on some things, but I need someone to get me out of my comfort zone at times, and she'd probably benefit from having a more 'grounded' friend, in the same way she benefits from having Dorothy as a friend.
... of course, this is all assuming that she'd want to be my friend in the first place, which is not a given 😂 I'm probably not interesting or fun enough to convince her to give me a chance, but a gal can dream, you know?
12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?
Just one? :')
I've said it before on here, but I headcanon that she's a cover hog. It just makes sense to me! And, still related to sleep, I feel like this is basically canon, but she's a night owl. She's more active during the night, she sleeps in, and it takes her a while to wake up in the mornings.
She actually is knowledgeable about art -- but not necessarily about artists! I think she likely doesn't have a lot of formal education about art (and especially art history), and even if she did study anything related to it she doesn't strike me as an exceptional student overall, but she has a natural instinct for visual beauty -- she's great at things like recognizing which paintings were made with similar techniques or within the same artistic current, distinguishing the traits and characteristics of painters, identifying specific shades of colour, this kind of stuff. Show her a painting and she'll correctly tell you that it's a Van Gogh, how he painted it, the precise shades of colour he chose and why he chose them -- but she also doesn't know that he cut off his ear, you know?
She was a bit of a reckless driver, especially in her youth -- the kind who likes to hit the gas just a tad too much, who plays the music just a tad too loud. She likes acting larger than life, she likes having fun, and she likes attention, so this feels appropriate for her. I figure it probably wasn't noticeable because she rarely drove herself (she always had a gentleman at her side to drive her around), but she never really grew out of that particular trait -- until George's death. After that, I think any imprudence behind the wheel would evoke his accident in her mind, so by the time the Girls met her she had turned into a very conscientious driver.
Thank you, these were so much fun to answer!! I love love love talking about Blanche <3
[CHARA CTER ASK GAME!!! 💫]
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bedforddanes75 · 7 months ago
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desperately need tiktok ethel cain fans to know how stupid they are
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stagehunt · 4 months ago
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more thoughts on aven and topaz and why i don't really interpret them as having the close relationship that i see a lot of in the fandom + his general feelings about her. talking about the checking out quest a little in the beginning.
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screenshots from my own transcript but they're still word for word. aven is more than aware that the tb is never going to accept a job offer from the ipc and treats this entire exchange as the joke that is, and an excuse to get under topaz' skin a little. just for fun. interesting then, how topaz immediately starts to get very personal during this little debate — while simultaneously displaying how well she actually knows aven, which is honestly not at all. i wouldn't blame this on a lack of understanding on her part, but on the way aven keeps everyone at arms distance, a distinct lack of trust in her from aven, and radically different outlooks on their work and life.
both of the dialogue excerpts kind of highlight that but i want to focus on the second one here because it immediately reminded me of a personal headcanon when i was playing the quest through.
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so. i'd already made the assumption that aven didn't have many staff working under him — both because of his treatment within the ipc / the varying reactions to who he is and his history with the previous aventurine which is pretty much public knowledge, his preference for working solo, and his habits of putting himself in harms way and taking very unreasonable risks. he'd assume that topaz sees these " work habits " she mentions as the main reason that people don't work to him but he also knows that she isn't foolish enough to think that's the only reason anyway. which is why he then immediately reminds her that diamond doesn't particularly care WHAT he does so long as he secures the bag at the end of the day.
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it's for things like this, and her general hostility towards him ( which does seem to vary, but her voice line about him is very harsh as opposed to what she tells us about him when she knows he's around / how she acts to his face ) and with the sheer amount of manipulation she's under, the things she genuinely believes about the ipc and her job there, he does personally think that it's impossible for her not to have absorbed at least some of the ipc's common opinions on him, the avgin + avgin extinction event / ipc's involvement on sigonia, and the egyhazo - aventurine case, and allowed them to colour her impression of him before really getting to know him.
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however as i mentioned in those disc screenshots, aven is obviously aware of the predatory nature of the ipc. he's been working there for almost a decade now, he was a teenager when he first wound up there, and he understands what happened on topaz' planet very well. he understands that she's naive. he understands that she has been essentially groomed, as well as the fact that she's very dedicated to her work. but he also understands that she's a kind hearted person, and that she does try to do what she thinks is the right thing in most situations. it would be ridiculous for me to say that he doesn't sympathise with topaz, even if he does find her a little obnoxious and annoying to be around.
so while he doesn't necessarily feel enough responsibility towards her to put up with her apparent dislike for him, he does subtly keep an eye out for her. when she first became a stoneheart he figured that she should be able to understand his situation better than anyone and that it would make sense for them both to have each others backs as much as possible. but from what he's observed and how they interact with each other, he just cannot convince himself that it would be safe to trust her. he knows he'd have to be careful with his words around her, and that at least currently, she wouldn't ever choose him over the job. still, he has a feeling that if she were ever to open her eyes to what she is complicit in, she'd despise the truth and herself as much as he does, if not more for being so easily strung along by the likes of jade.
so are they friends? no. but if topaz ever genuinely needed help he would be there. he would understand.
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upsidedowngrass · 2 years ago
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i adore your liam so much!!! 🫶 im curious though how you explain the changes for ep 15+/why the waiting room didn't heal his scars? are they just Too Bad or....
thank you!!!!
the way i interpret the waiting room i think mainly revolves around the fact that when an injury heals irl, the scar IS because it healed!! i draw the one characters w them bc the waiting room is def able to heal injuries as shown in ep, but i dont imagine that would make it so that there arent scars if that makes sense?? that said, i ALSO hc any injuries healed in the waiting room to still be treated like any injury would act if it would had they been healed, such as muscles still having issues that exist after something has healed, or nerves being damaged no longer being able to send signals as they would before!!
basically, i think of it as the injury being fully healed in a realistic sense!! that the aftereffects of something healing would still exist, but any active damage is restored and treated as if the body continued onward!!!
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steveyockey · 6 months ago
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To be aware you might be trans but unwilling to do anything about it is to create endlessly bigger boxes within which to contain yourself. When you are a child, that box might encompass only yourself and your parents. By the time you are a gainfully employed adult, that box will contain multitudes, and the thought of disrupting it will grow ever more unthinkable. So you cease to think of yourself as a person on some level; you think not of what you want but what everybody expects from you. You do your best not to make waves, and you apologize, if only implicitly, for existing. You stop being real and start being a construct, and eventually, you decide the construct is just who you are, and you swaddle yourself up in it, and maybe you die there. There is still time until there isn’t.
This reading of TV Glow’s deliberately anticlimactic, noncathartic ending cuts against the transition narrative you typically see in movies and TV, in which a trans person self-accepts, transitions, and lives a happier life. Owen gets trapped in a space where he knows what he must do to live an authentic life but simply refuses to take those steps because, well, burying yourself alive is a terrifying thing to do. The transition narrative posits a trans existence as, effectively, a binary switch between “man” and “woman” that gets flipped one way or another, but to make our lives so binary is to miss how trans existences possess an inherent liminality.
Humans’ lives unfold in a constant state of becoming until death, but trans people are uniquely keyed in to what this means thanks to the simple fact of our identities. You can get lost in that liminality, too, forever trapped in a midnight realm of your own making, stuck between what you believe is true (I am a nice man with a good family and a good job, and I love my life) and what you know, deep in your most terrified heart of hearts, is real (I am a girl suffocating in a box).
And yet if you want to read the film as being about the dangerous allure of nostalgia, you’re not wrong. I Saw the TV Glow totally supports that interpretation, too! But in tempting you with that reading, the film creates a trap for cis viewers that will be all too familiar to trans viewers. Somewhere in the middle of Maddy’s story about The Pink Opaque being real, you will make a choice between “This kid has lost it!” and “No. Go with her, Owen,” and in asking you to make that choice, TV Glow is simulating the act of self-accepting a trans identity.
See, the grimmer read of the film’s ending truly is a nihilistic one. It leaves no hope, no potential for growth, no exit. Yet you must actively choose to read that ending as nihilistic. If you are cis and the end of I Saw the TV Glow left you with a gnawing sense of dissatisfaction, a weird but hard-to-pin-down feeling that something had broken, and a melancholy bordering on horror — congratulations, this movie gave you contact-high gender dysphoria.
In an infinite number of possible universes, there is at least one where I am still living “as a man,” embracing my fictionality, avoiding looking at how much more raw and real I feel when I “pretend” to be a woman. I think about that guy sometimes. I hope he’s okay.
Consider, then, my cis reader, that TV Glow is for both you and me, but it is maybe most of all for him. I hope he sees it. I hope he breaks down crying in the bathroom afterward. I hope he, after so many years locked inside himself, hears the promise of more life through the hiss of TV static.
Emily St. James, “I Saw the TV Glow’s Ending Is Full of Hope, If You Want It to Be,” Vulture. June 4, 2024.
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milsirils · 7 months ago
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I hope I’m not making mindless sleep deprived connections when I say this, but I just noticed that Milsiril tends to wear bigger and longer clothing around her children. Which gave me the thought oh she probably wears them to hide her scars from her children..but I also suck at forming words so y’all are just gonna have to trust me on this one.
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What really caught my attention was these two arts of her wearing two really baggy looking pieces of clothing. In both of these situations she’s with her young children.
Please bear with meee here cuz I know in most of her panels she's in the canary uniform, so we only get to see her in her non work clothes once. In this one extra, her scars visible and she is wearing a short dress, but what I want to highlight is that she is with only elves here.
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Here is more of her wearing clothing that covers some of her arms! I like to note that in all instances she’s with Kabru..
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(Even in the first panel she is wearing those arm bracelets that cover up most of her skin in a way. She doesn't always wear them but they're an interesting addition imo.)
BUT This is what sells me a little is this scene from this chapter. Where Milsiril is playing the soft and protective Mother role, feeding Kabru cake, almost kinda baby talking him. She’s using her shawl (?) to cover her arms. Til Kabru brings up the dungeon and wanting to be “strong like her” is when her shawl slowly begins to fall off her shoulders each panel and reveals some nasty scars.
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Taking at look at the "Strong like you." panel (middle image, first panel in the middle row) it particularly peeks my interest because I’m so sure Kui did that on purpose. Not to mention when the tone shifts completely and we see Milsiril looking rather scary. This time her scars are on full display.
So going off of the last few panels, I’m going to personally assume she tries to cover them around her children so they don't have any feelings of uneasiness or fear around her. In the instance with Kabru, it’s almost like she's trying to install some fear in him whether that’s to drive him away from the dungeon or just show him what exploring in the dungeon is really like. Whatever is the real reason to all of this is beyond me.
I hope this makes sense and y’all can pick up what i’m tryna put down. I’m so tired feel free to reblog with your own interpretations or additions pls. or if i missed anything thanks.
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incognit0slut · 8 months ago
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hii, i love you’re writing and i have a song request idea. the song too sweet by hozier would be so cute it could be angst to smut and it could happen late morning or late at night since the lyrics. idk if it makes sense i just thought it’d be cute 😭. again i love your work sm okay, ty, bye 🫶🏾💖🫶🏾💖🫶🏾
Spencer thinks you’re too sweet for a damaged man like him.
Warnings: (18+) Professor Reid x Student Fem Reader. Age gap (he’s in his 40s or post-prison era, Reader is in her 20s). Angst and smut. 2.8k words A/n: anon I took your request but I changed it a little to how I interpret this song… which means a lot of ANGST💔 I hope you don’t mind
He knew you were here. He always knew. The usual chaotic sprawl of books scattered throughout his apartment seemed to be in order, and there was a comforting scent lingering in the air that unmistakably belonged to you.
Although Spencer could never really put his finger on your scent. Sometimes you exuded a sweet fragrance, like the delicate petals of a flower, while at other times, a crisp, fresh aroma lingered around you, reminiscent of a morning breeze, or perhaps the soft scent of rain. 
But it didn't matter whether you smelled like a garden in full bloom or the crisp air after a rainstorm, the mere proximity to you brought him the peace he was all too familiar with, and that calmness enveloped him as he made his way toward his bedroom.
You looked like an angel. Sweet, calm, serene. His eyes drifted towards your sleeping form, and he couldn't help but wonder how you could sleep so well after the conversation you both shared this morning. The weight of your mutual decision to end things for good hung heavy in the air, yet here you lay, seemingly unaffected.
He watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest, each rhythmic pattern of your breathing seemed to draw him closer. One step, then another, until he found himself standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at you, vulnerable in your sleep. And then, as if pulled by an unseen force, he sank into the space beside you.
The bed dipped beneath his weight, and so did his heart. Spencer knew this wasn't the wisest thing to do. He was supposed to be the responsible one, after all, he was older than you. With age came experience, or so he believed, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he should be the voice of reason.
But as he lay beside you, he couldn't help but question his judgment. Was it truly wisdom that guided him, or was it simply the fear of facing the unknown? Age and maturity seemed like a flimsy construct now, overshadowed by the raw intensity of his emotions. With a heavy sigh, he placed a hand on your waist.
One touch, he told himself, one touch was all he would allow himself.
You felt the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, grounding you in the present moment. Spencer watched intently, well aware he should have pulled back, yet, despite his better judgment, he found himself unable to let go, his grip on you tightening almost instinctively.
His gaze traced your face in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window. Despite the early hour, your features seemed to radiate with a warmth that defied the darkness of the dawn. The lines of worry on your brow softened, your lips curved into a gentle smile, and for a fleeting moment, you appeared to embody the very essence of sunshine itself.
It was a peculiar sight, Spencer thought, considering how the world beyond the window remained shrouded in darkness.
"You're home," you muttered as if the word home was a concept you both shared. Perhaps it had once been true, or perhaps it was a dream that had never quite materialized. He felt a pang in his chest, a bittersweet reminder of what once was, or what could have been.
"You're not supposed to be here," he mumbled softly.
"I was going to give you back your keys, but you weren't here," you confessed. "And I wanted to wait for you."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "So you decided to wait on my bed?"
"It seemed like the most comfortable spot."
"You've always liked my bed."
You shook your head. "It's not the bed, per se. It's the feeling of being close to you..." Your gaze softened as you met his eyes. "Even when you're not here."
Time seemed to stand still as he met your gaze, a rush of emotions swirling beneath the surface. "I'm not here most of the time," he said after a pause.
"I know."
"That's not fair to you."
A heavy silence fell into place.
"I know," you replied quietly.
"And the next time we do see each other," he continued, his tone tinged with resignation, "Is when I'm standing in front of class with you sitting between the seats."
"Spencer, I know," you pressed, your voice barely concealing the ache in your heart. "We went through this conversation this morning."
"Then why are you still here?"
You held his gaze, your eyes reflecting countless emotions—sadness, longing, and perhaps a hint of defiance. "Because," you began softly, "I still can't bring myself to leave."
His heart clenched at your words, the weight of them settling heavily upon him. He had expected defiance, anger, perhaps even resentment, but your quiet admission caught him off guard.
"Why?" he asked.
You looked away. "You know why."
He knew the reasons, of course, he knew them all too well. But hearing them spoken aloud, seeing the pain reflected in your eyes, brought the harsh reality of the situation. He reached out, gently grasping your chin and guiding your gaze back to meet his.
"This is for the best," he replied quietly, though his voice wavered with uncertainty. He knew the words sounded hollow, even to his own ears, but he couldn't bring himself to admit the truth—that perhaps, deep down, he was trying to protect himself as much as he was trying to protect you.
"For me or for you?"
He hesitated, the lump in his throat growing heavier with each passing moment.
"For both of us," he admitted softly.
It was the truth, undeniable and painful. He couldn't deny the impact of your relationship if it continued down its current path. Not only was he much older than you, but he was also supposed to be your mentor, your teacher, your professor.
His role was meant to guide you. He was supposed to impart knowledge, not to engage in illicit affairs behind closed doors. He had allowed himself to become too invested in you, to give you more attention than was appropriate, more than was fair to his other students.
But it wasn't just about him anymore—it was about you. He couldn't bear the thought of tainting your pure, sweet soul with the darkness that came with him. He had done things he wasn't proud of, and made choices that he wished he could undo, and now, as he looked at you, he couldn't help but feel a sense of shame.
You deserved better than to be with someone who carried the weight of his past like a heavy burden.
"So this it?" You asked.
All he could do was nod. A lump formed in your throat as you struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. "Fine. Just..." You paused, taking a shaky breath to steady yourself. "I'll leave as soon as you tell me the truth."
He felt a knot tighten in his chest as he waited for you to continue.
"Tell me you don't love me and I'll leave."
Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, the pain evident in his eyes as he struggled to find the right response. He knew that he had to be honest with you, no matter how difficult it might be.
But as he opened his mouth to speak, the words caught in his throat. How could he deny the truth when every fiber of his being longed for you? How could he let you go when you were the one thing he couldn't bear to lose?
"I..." he began, his voice faltering as he searched for the courage to speak the words you so desperately needed to hear. But no matter how hard he tried, the words refused to come.
"Say it," you urged. "Say you don't love me and I'll leave you for good."
Taking a deep breath, he met your gaze and braced himself for the pain his words would inflict on you.
"I don't love you," he whispered, the words feeling like a betrayal even as they left his lips. It was a lie, and he knew it. And yet, he couldn't find the courage to admit his feelings for you.
The air around you seemed to thicken with tension. He had braced himself for the pain his lie would bring, but nothing could prepare him for the look of hurt and disbelief that crossed your face at his words. You were the one who asked for this, yet hearing him admit to it so easily shattered your heart into pieces.
"You're... you're lying."
Spencer felt a pang of guilt shoot through him at the sight of your pain. He knew that he would regret what he was about to do, but he couldn't stand the thought of you walking away without knowing the truth, without knowing how much he truly cared for you.
So he closed the distance between you, his hand gently cradling the back of your neck. And then, without hesitation, he leaned in and captured your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. For a moment, you were lost in the sensation, the warmth of his touch, the tenderness of his kiss.
But as quickly as it had begun, it came to an end, leaving you breathless and uncertain. You pulled back and searched his eyes for answers. "You're lying," you repeated.
He sighed heavily, his forehead resting against yours. "I-I don't love you."
Your chest tightened again. How could he say that when his touch was so tender, when his gaze held so much depth? Frustration and hurt boiled over as your nails dug into his skin, gripping his wrist firmly as you held his face close to yours.
"Stop lying to me," you pleaded almost desperately. "Stop fucking lying to yourself."
He closed his eyes. He knew that he couldn't keep lying to you, and yet, the words refused to leave his lips, trapped by the fear of what might happen if he dared to speak them aloud.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart as he pulled you closer, not knowing what else to do to ease the pain away.
So he kissed you again.
He kissed you as if he was apologizing, each gentle press of his lips against yours a silent plea for forgiveness. He kissed you as if he needed to convey his feelings that he couldn't express with words, his touch speaking volumes where his voice fell short.
He kissed you as if you were everything to him, as if the taste of you was sweeter than any other, as if he couldn't bear the thought of a life without you in it. He kissed you desperately and unapologetically, it was sweet yet painful, tender yet desperate, as if every moment shared between you was both a blessing and a curse.
You could taste the bitterness of goodbye on his lips, yet you couldn't bring yourself to let go, not when his touch still felt like home. So you pushed your tongue into his mouth, savoring the taste of him even as you knew it would only make saying goodbye that much harder.
Your breathing became heavy as you felt his hand glide down from your cheek to your neck. He then pulled away, his lips still tingling from the taste of you as he licked them unconsciously. His gaze followed the movement of his hand as it settled on your breast.
You could feel the tension between you crackling in the air, the desire that pulsed between you almost tangible, as he brushed your nipple over your shirt. A gasp escaped your lips as he continued to tease you, each touch sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body.
You knew that this wasn't the wisest thing to do. You were both playing with fire and giving in to the temptation could only lead to more heartache. But you couldn't help yourself, not when your body was coming alive with the familiarity of his touch, not when you knew that this might be the last time you could feel him as close.
So when his hand slipped further down, tracing a path over your stomach, past your legs, you let him. The anticipation built within you as his touch hiked up your skirt, your breath catching in your throat. And when the rough pad of his fingers ghosted over the material of your panties, you found yourself instinctively spreading your legs apart, inviting him closer.
As the first electric surge rushes through you, the smallest of breaths escapes your lips, signaling the release of the tension you had been holding in your lungs. Your hands found purchase against his shoulders, nails digging into his t-shirt tightly as you felt him pressing onto your folds.
You both stared at each other, a silent exchange of emotions passing between you. There were so many emotions in his—sadness, frustration, and a burning desire that mirrored your own. And yet, despite the turmoil that raged within him, you found yourself unable to look away, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze.
As his hand worked its magic between your thighs, you felt yourself growing wetter by the minute, desire pooling low in your belly. And then, with a sense of purpose, he pulled his hand away, his fingers deftly finding the band of your panties as he coaxed the thin material down your legs. 
How did he manage to bring himself into this situation again? It was a familiar pattern, one that he had promised himself he would break, and yet, here he was, like a moth to a flame, irresistibly drawn to you.
Or perhaps it was more like you were a precious flower, delicate and beautiful, and he was drawn to you like a bee to nectar, unable to resist the sweet temptation that you offered.
Whatever the reason, he knew that he couldn't stay away from you. With trembling hands, he buried his fingers between your thighs once more, finally touching your bare, slick skin. The slickness of your arousal coated his fingers as he explored every inch of your delicate folds, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
And then, unable to resist any longer, he pressed a single finger inside your entrance, the sensation causing you to gasp in pleasure. He moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of your tightness enveloping him, before picking up the pace, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate with each passing moment.
"Please," you muttered, gulping and concentrating on the feeling of him slowly pumping his single digit in and out of your tightening, dripping walls. 
But what were you begging for? For him not to stop? Or for him not to let you go? Maybe both, and for now, the only thing he could do was give you the pleasure you so desperately craved.
He could feel the tension building within you, the way your body arched and trembled. And as he continued to pleasure you, he made a silent vow to himself—to give you everything he could at this moment, to make you feel alive and wanted, even if it was just for a fleeting moment.
So he continued to move his finger inside you, and as he felt you drawing closer to the edge, he knew that he couldn't stop now. His thumb found your clit, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips as he applied gentle pressure. Then with a sense of urgency, he plunged another finger deep inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way possible.
Your grip on his shirt tightened, your nails digging into the fabric as you clung to him desperately. "Pl-Please," you begged, heavy eyes searching for his own. "Please don't leave me."
His heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in your voice, the depth of emotion written plainly across your face. He couldn't bear to look at you any further, so he buried his face in the crook of your neck, pressing tender kisses against your skin as his fingers continued their fast-paced rhythm.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with anguish. "I'm so sorry."
His words were barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths, but you heard him clearly, and a loud moan ripped out of you. This was the cruelest form of rejection; to find pleasure in his touch only to be denied the warmth of his affection. You wanted to push him away, to scream at him for playing with your emotions, for making you believe there was something more. But as his fingers continued their relentless assault on your senses, driving you ever closer to the edge of ecstasy, you found yourself unable to resist.
So you surrendered to him completely, because all that mattered was here and now—the ache between your legs, his lips worshiping your body, and the undeniable connection that bound you together, even as the world threatened to tear you apart.
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notakugelblitz · 4 months ago
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FERNANDO • Five Hargreeves x Reader
as everyone seems so sad since the release of season 4, i thought this could help :’)
it takes place during season 3, during Luther and Sloane’s wedding. as you spend your last moments with your siblings in law, you start to have some regrets about the life you could have had with Five.
NO WARNING, all fluff 😊 2341 words
i got inspired by ABBA’s song Fernando and it’s so Five x Y/N related I love it (well this is how I interpret it)
english isn’t my first language so sorry if you spot any mistake
enjoy ☂️
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It was only a matter of hours now. You were all staying at the Hotel Oblivion, the last survivors. The Kugelblitz was growing and yet, Sloane and Luther had decided to marry.
While the boys were having a bachelor party before the ceremony, you were wandering the corridors aimlessly.
Ever since you arrived in 2019 with Five, his family quickly became yours. They welcomed you so warmly and trying to save the world twice clearly forged something big. But when you met the Sparrows, the hate that they felt against them seemed rather excessive (apart from Luther of course). Probably due to your age, you felt more mature about it. Seeing Sloane and Ben loosing all of their family pained you grandly.
You even found in Luther’s future wife a friend, which was a surprise but you enjoyed her kindness quite much. Your feet led you to Sloane’s room so unhesitatingly you knocked at her door which was half opened. She answered and smiled as she spotted you.
“Y/N ! Come in !” Sloane said to you, her soon-to-be former Sparrow Academy sister, in a cheerful fashion as she closed the door behind her.
Then she turned to face her once the door was firmly shut. You smiled, noticing the dress Sloane was sewing herself.
“It looks flawless.” you said, pointing at the white dress laying on the bed.
Sloane smiled gently at your comment and walked over to it, caressing the dress lovingly with her hand.
“Thank you … I just hope it fits me.”
“I’m sure it will. Nothing you wear unfits you.”
You chuckled a bit falsely, feeling a pain in your heart but yet you managed to smile. It was the best day of Sloane's life, and probably her last, after all.
She seemed to notice the sadness in your eyes and immediately became concerned as she took a closer look at you.
“Y/N, what’s wrong ? You look … sad.”
You sighed and grabbed a vase, sitting on the chair as you took the flowers out of it. You started to tie the stems altogether to create a crown.
“I am not sad. I am just … seeing you all excited for your wedding … I’ve been there too … ” you let out.
Sloane smiled and sat down on the bed opposite you, watching you make a crown out of the vase’s contents.
“Yes, I am but … I get the impression that you didn’t enjoy yours ?” she said slowly, a hint of suspicion in her voice as she tried to make sense of your comment.
“Oh no, I loved it !” you exclaimed suddenly. “I had the most wonderful wedding. And I believe yours will be just as perfect.”
She smiled genuinely as she heard you say that you enjoyed your wedding.
“Well … I’m relieved to hear that ! For a moment, I thought you’d been married to an arsehole or something !”
“Five is an arsehole indeed, but he is a great man, I can assure you.” you laughed.
You then approached her to check the size of the crown on her head.
“There.”
Sloane smiled as you placed the flower crown on her head carefully. Feeling the weight of it, she looked in the mirror, gently caressing the flowers and admiring the work that had been done on it.
“Thank you, Y/N. It’s beautiful …”
You looked at Sloane’s reflection and surprised yourself with a sort of mothering smile. It suddenly brought you nostalgia and sadness at the same time. Sloane checked over her shoulder, noticing your change of mood, a look of concern once again present on her face.
“Y/N … are you sure you’re okay ?”
You pinched your nose and sighed, trying to avoid some tears from falling. You couldn’t believe how weak your were but the tiredness and the end of the world wasn’t making it easy.
“Five and I married when we were 56. Secretly, as it was forbidden by the … by our employers,” you started to explain.
You checked on her, wanting to know if she was ok with you opening up like this. Her eyes saying like “Go on, I’m listening.” and her hand grabbing yours relieved you suddenly.
“I am 58 now. I just wish I had met him sooner …”
You looked down at your feet. It might sound weird for Sloane as you also had the appearance of a teenager. But still she kept holding your hand, gently rubbing the back of it with her thumb as you spoke, trying to give comfort in any way she could.
“Is that why you’re sad ? Because you wished you’d had more time with Five ?”
“When we got back here, we thought of a well-deserved retirement..” you sighed deeply. “But then he decided to save the world again because he’s addicted to it. And I wouldn’t blame him for that, he spent his life doing so. I just …”
You bit your lips, looking down at her hands, young and soft.
“And you just … want to be able to grow old with him … like normal people who marry and have a family …”
You looked up at Sloane, surprised that she’d understand that easily. You slightly opened your mouth because of the astonishment but shook your head.
“I know that everyone expect me to say that I have no regrets because I had time, unlike you … no offense of course. But coming back in 2019, both of us teenagers again, I thought … it sounds stupid, but I thought we had another chance, you know ? To grow old normally, without any Commission nor Kugelblitz.”
“I get that … you feel like you’ve been robbed.”
You nodded and looked up at her, cupping her cheek with your free hand.
“I shouldn’t bother you with that. Let’s enjoy this night, shall we?”
Sloane seemed to freeze.
“Would you like to be my maid of honour ?” she lets out suddenly.
You arched an eyebrow and smirked.
“I mean … you’re the only friend I’ve got here and … Ben is a dumbass. And a boy.”
“Yeah right … I’d be honoured.” you chuckled.
Without warning, Sloane hugged you tightly, resting her chin upon your shoulder. This felt good actually, and you got a bit moved knowing that you both needed it. At this moment Sloane’s wedding became your last most important mission. You wanted to ensure that it’ll be the night of her life and all the happiness she could feel, the same you felt back then, shan’t be disturbed.
• • •
The Hotel Oblivion had never been as beautiful as it was now, with the Hargreeves being the last survivors on earth. Celebrating a wedding a day before the end of the world had something rather beautiful.
You were standing by the aisle, beside Sloane, as you were her maid of honor. You looked at her and Luther with a kind of nostalgia, smiling a bit sadly while Klaus was pronouncing some vows.
As Klaus’s speech continued, Five kept his eyes on you. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia himself as he took in the moment. All the people he loved most were here with him, yet he knew deep down that these would be the last moments they’d get to spend together like this. The thought was more than a little concerning to him, and the hand holding his glass subconsciously clenched into a fist.
At the end of the ceremony, everyone went their separate ways, some dancing on the dance floor, some at the buffet. You headed directly to the bar where all the alcohol was, serving yourself a glass of whisky with the same nostalgia and sadness in your eyes.
Even though you had moved to the bar, it was as if Five’s eyes had never once left you. So he grabbed another glass and joined you at the bar.
“Are you just planning on staying here all night ?” he asked, taking a seat next to you.
Just by his tone, it seemed as if he was trying to hide his concern under his usual snarky demeanor.
“Aren’t you ?” you asked, pouring some whisky into his glass.
You sighed and lifted your glass to raise a toast with him, your smile a bit off. Five raised his glass as well, clinking it against yours.
“You’ve got a point there.”
He took a rather large gulp of the drink before setting the glass down. Five glances at you as a look of concern crossed his face again.
“You’ve got that look on your face. You alright ?”
You sighed and drank your glass bottoms up, then filled it up again. You then turned to see Sloane and Luther dancing happily.
“Do you have any regrets ?” you asked monotonously. “I mean… we never had the time to really enjoy a happy married couple life, you know ?”
He turned his head towards you and raised an eyebrow skeptically.
“Are you being serious right now ?” he quipped.
“That’s what you’re worried about ? Really ?”
“Did we, Five ?” you asked, looking right at him with pain in your eyes. “I mean, yes, we got married, but for what ? Working two years at the Commission with your name after mine and then coming back in 2019 to save the world and have no fucking break.”
You sighed and drank your glass again, bottoms up, not disturbed by the strength of the alcohol.
He sighed, running a hand down his face as he spoke.
“That … that’s not a very fair question. It’s not as if we could’ve helped it.” he started off, trying to reassure you as he picked up his glass and swirled the alcohol around. “Things just happened that we had to deal with. Like you said, we were more focused on stopping the apocalypse than ... anything normal couples would usually do.”
“I dreamt of a retirement, Five. I truly did,” you let out. “Reappearing here with damn teenage appearances, I… I thought we had a second chance, you know ? Having a whole life for ourselves. But no.”
You sniffed and poured yourself another glass. A look of hurt and concern spread across his face even more at this. He knew how badly you had wanted to experience life like every normal people did and all that came with it, and seeing you admit how disappointed you were … it was crushing for him.
He put his hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing it as he tried to find the right words to say to console you.
“You know it’s not too late, right ?” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
“We only have a day left, Five. Don’t mock me.”
He grabbed you by both shoulders and turned you to face him, gripping them tight.
“I am not.” he said defensively, his voice regaining its hard, blunt tone. “You’d know that if you’d just listen to me for a minute. What I’m trying to say is … you want to experience being a normal, young adult ? Fine. Well, there’s nothing stopping us now, is there ? So stop sulking and start enjoying this while it lasts.”
You looked at him with surprised eyes, rather shocked by what he said. You didn’t have the words, mouth slightly open. The music stopped and another song started : "Fernando" by ABBA. You felt shivers down your spine hearing it. It was the song that played during your first dance … well, it played on the car radio, and you danced somewhere on the side of the road on your way back from your little clandestine marriage back in 1977.
As soon as he heard the opening beats of this special song, he couldn’t help but smirk and internally snicker, already anticipating his next move. He grabbed your hand with a slightly tight grip and started to pull you to the dance floor.
“Five, what are you doing ?” you gasped, leaving your glass on the table.
You were still a bit shocked but let him pull you anyway.
“Oh my ! Five is going to dance !” Lila exclaimed.
“Awwwww, that is way too cuuuuute !” Klaus chuckled.
“Gross.” Ben added.
Five glared at the others as he dragged you towards the dance floor, ignoring their teasing. However, the death glare changed back into a smirk once he got onto the dance floor and pulled you into his arms.
“Just shut up and dance with me,” he quipped.
“But you never dance …” you whispered.
But you didn’t say a word when he placed your hands on his shoulder and in his palm.
“You’ve been wanting to have your time to enjoy yourself as a married couple, right ?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “So then … why not spend our last night doing exactly that ?”
You huffed, touched by his words. It seemed like the end of the world had opened his eyes somehow, and enjoying every last minute with the people he loved felt more important now, ever since he met his old version saying that he shouldn’t save the world and all that awful stuff …
You smiled at him widely.
“Thank you …” you almost whispered.
His heart felt both heavy and warm at your words. Heavy in the fact that he was suddenly very aware of how limited their time was … but warm in the fact that it seemed like you’d finally come back to your senses.
“Save your thanks and enjoy yourself for the night, okay ?” he replied quietly, a small smirk on his lips. “The only reason I’m doing this is so you’ll stop moping and complaining, just so you know.”
“Yeah, right.”
You chuckled, knowing that he was doing it for himself too.
“Though we never thought that we could lose, there's no regret.” you quietly hummed along.
Five spun you around, and he couldn’t help but laugh a bit, enjoying himself much more than he thought he would. Seeing him smile like this, being truly happy after a long time, moved you a bit. Those dimples, his glimmering eyes …
As you hummed to the lyrics of the song, the smirk on his face widened, and he began to sing along.
"If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando."
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celesteleoves · 5 months ago
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Could you do a todoroki oneshot/head cannons for him having a secrete crush on (y/n) and doing some cheesy confessions? Thanks a lot!!❤️🤍
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“I LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL MY NAME.”
shoto todoroki x reader.
summary: shoto has developed a crush that even he himself doesn’t quite understand, so he’s hiding it. you however, have a small huge crush on him yourself aswell. hopefully he can confess!
warnings: mentions of the todoroki family, shoto being a little insecure, fluff with a SMALL tinge of angst! reader is as whipped as he is lol!
a/n: i decided to turn this into a little one shot. ty for requesting this ml! i really enjoy writing shoto and trying to understand his character (especially trying to interpret how he would do a confession lol!) enjoy!!!! pls send more requests. this is quite long i feel like :( i hope it’s to your liking!!!
“todoroki, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be in love?”
that was a sentence shoto didn’t think he’d have to answer at 10 am in the morning. yet here he is. standing very stiffly next to a happy momo who is helping him make breakfast for their classmates. the question certainly woke him up at this early time.
“not really.”
“oh come on! you know i’m not the type to push boundaries but are you sure?” momo looked at him in confusion, for a boy like shoto everyone would’ve thought love defintely came easily to him.
“i don’t think i have. please hand me the knife.”
momo sighed and passed him the knife before moving around the kitchen and grabbing the rest of the ingredients to finish up their meal.
——
the conversation with momo had been stuck in shoto’s head all throughout the day (it was currently 1 pm). he felt as though he answered her wrong. yet, how would he know a thing about love? romantic love. souls being practically tied to another. he didn’t know anything about it.
shoto felt uneasy facing emotions he never explored: love. It was like standing on a cliff's edge, peering into an unfamiliar abyss. His usually composed demeanor faltered as he grappled with the intensity of these new feelings. yet, despite his apprehension, a part of him was curious, cautiously reaching out to understand this uncharted territory.
from a young age, shoto learned he couldn't rely on his parents to model what real love looked like or how to navigate relationships. they weren't an example he could follow, leaving him uncertain and unguided in matters of the heart. that’s something shoto learnt at a young age, he couldn’t rely on his parents to show him what real love looks like.
he’s not very good at lying. thats also something shoto learnt at a young age. it baffles him how he has been able to hide his crush on you for this long.
you sat comfortably next to shoto, scrolling through your phone and peppering him with questions about the various foods you were discovering on your Pinterest feed.
“oh my gosh! did you know that strawberries are the most common fruit people use to confess their love?” you grinned like a child and turned your phone towards shoto who was already paying attention to your scrolling.
“oh wow, i didn’t know that.” shotos answer came out more nonchalant than he wanted and he winced, praying you wouldn’t be upset with him.
instead, you felt a warmth in your stomach at his words. excited to teach him more about strawberries, you leaned closer.
shotos breath hitched at the smell of your perfume engulfing his senses, he could practically see ever detail of your face. to the way you did your makeup all the way down to the necklace you wore that shoto had gifted you for your birthday.
the sight made shotos cheeks flushed as he took deep breaths. as of right now, shoto wished he would be more calm like he usually is.
damn it, hiding a crush is not easy.
little did either of you know, you were both thinking the same thing.
——
strawberries. the history of the strawberry dates back to Ancient Rome where the fruit was considered the symbol of Venus, the goddess of love, because of its red color and enticing taste.
shoto had been sitting in his dorm for hours looking up facts about strawberries.
he gently placed his phone down and pondered. does the kitchen have strawberries? or would he have to go buy some?
“i’ll check the kitchen.” he mumbled, hurriedly making his way there.
upon his arrival, he realized everyone seemed to be also chilling in their dorms. it was only 5 o’clock and a free day for his classmates to relax and catch up.
he searched the fridge, a deep frown settling on his face when he realized there were no strawberries.
shoto stared at the fridge for a couple minutes, debating what to do.
“shoto? is that you?” he jumped at the sound of the kitchen door creaking open but relaxed after realizing it was just you.
“sorry! didn’t mean to scare you. what are you looking for?” you moved towards him, stopping right behind him and peering over his shoulder to look at what the fridge might contain for him.
much to shotos dismay, it didn’t contain the one thing he wanted. the thing he craved however was just standing behind him.
“i want strawberries. do you want to come to the store with me to get some?” shoto peered back at you with the cutest look on his face. your heart clenched at his unintentional puppy eyes.
“yes! i mean- sure.” you stumbled over your words and he softly smiled, moving to grab his hoodie as you excitedly walked beside him, leaving the dorms and heading to the store.
the walk was calm, exactly what you needed but also despised. for months, it felt as if you had been left in the dark with shoto. it seems as though he’s keeping something from you.
selfishly, you really want to understand his sudden demeanour change. he’s almost softer, sweeter and very careful with you.
selfishly, shoto also wants to just run away and hide. he is not good at keeping secrets from you. this secret is something he knows would affect your friendship greatly. which is why he’s afraid.
“shoto. we’re here.” you spoke to him softly, the chill evening air makes you feel at peace next to him and shoto swears you glow as the afternoon sun hits the side of your face perfectly.
“i really want strawberries.” shoto said and you swore you almost let out a cackle at his blunt words, why did he need that fruit so badly?
“then let’s look!”
you two trudged to the fruit section of the store, analyzing which strawberries would be perfect.
“y/n, look at these ones.” shoto beckoned you over and you happily walked over to where he stood.
shoto had managed to find the most perfect strawberries you had never seen, they looked so perfect! (just like him) and you quickly nodded your head towards the cashier.
“hello! my my, what a lovely young couple you two are! did you know, strawberries are a symbol of love?” the cashier, a friendly middle aged women, spoke endearingly at you two.
“oh! we aren’t a-”
“thank you, m’aam.” shoto softly smiled at the lady and she grinned back, winking at you as you blushed.
“have a good one, you two!” the cashier waved as you two exited the store, you being too flustered to reply while shoto waved back at her.
his nerves began to get the best of him, his idea didn’t seem like it would work now. what if his perspective of love is wrong and he’s doing the opposite of what you think love is? the questions continued to plague his mind like a sick joke and taunt. his mind seemed to be his biggest enemy.
were you against the idea of dating him? you didn’t reply to the lady in the store. was it his scar? was it his personality? shoto suddenly really liked the idea of crawling into hole.
you moved towards a bench nearby, patting the seat next to you. you didn’t enjoy how quiet shoto had been. normally he would at least say a few words and you would be able to continue the conversation. shoto seemed speechless suddenly.
shoto stared at the batch of strawberries in his lap, grateful they were washed. he could eat them now with you.
he picked up what seemed like one singular strawberry that laid perfectly on top of the rest. as he picked the strawberry up, it revealed to be a double strawberry. (press on the text to learn more!)
“woah! a double strawberry, can we split it?” you spoke for the first time in a while and shoto felt his heart swoon, you wanted to share a strawberry with him?
shoto only nodded and split the strawberry for you two, a red hue very evident on his cheeks as he took a bite of the strawberry.
“you know, i’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while.”
shotos nerve racking words caused you to perk up in your seat as you quietly ate the strawberry, encouraging him to continue.
“um, strawberries mean love.” shoto mentally face palmed. that is not what he wanted to say!
you giggle, “i know sho! i told you that.”
silence overtook you two once again as you gave shoto a moment to think about his words, patiently nervously swinging your legs back and fourth beneath the bench.
“it is also said that if you spilt a double strawberry with someone, you two will fall in love.” shoto whispered those words as if they were forbidden.
your eyes widened and you let out a huff of laughter, trying to make humour of the situation incase he does but agree with your next words.
“and what happens if you’re already in love?”
shotos eyes bulged, he looked up from where he was staring at his feet nervously to make eye contact with you for the first time in a while.
the feeling of being nervous about what the other will say seems so intense, but once you're already in love, every word they utter becomes a symphony that warms your heart. you two felt that way each time the other spoke.
“then… the two will grow their relationship and be more than friends?” shoto asked shyly.
“yeah, that sounds about right.” you grinned, shuffling closer to shoto, finishing your strawberry as you place your head on his shoulder.
shoto smiled a toothy grin, silently applauding himself. his confession wasn’t as bad he thought it would be! strawberries really do symbolize love.
——
A/N: UM HI… i hope this was how you wanted it!!! i kinda got carried away… if you guys can’t tell i really like strawberries so i had to include them. please send tips for me to improve my writing and requests for not just mha, but jjk too!
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