#i wanted to reply to this ask with a complete drawing of ace but i fear i still. have not drawn him since this ask has been sent ngiughnoig

[mizzical]

Your art style is so unique and vibrant ! I really adore the way you use shapes as your main form for the person, would you ever draw ace? I'm curious to know what he looks like in your style /nf

thank you so much ^^!!!!! i will DEFFO try to draw him soon enough :)!! the one time i drew ace was this stupid goofy ass sketch of him from months ago that i posted then later deleted.. but other than that i *will* work on drawing him soon!!!

[zepskies]

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers. 

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors. 

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning. 

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court. 

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out. 

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot. 

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going. 

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media. 

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one. 

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism. 

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy. 

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks. 

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent. 

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek. 

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?���

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason��she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him. 

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it. 

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat. 

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you. 

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you. 

You’re not ready for that. 

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you. 

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him. 

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen. 

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks. 

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. 

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand. 

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in. 

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt. 

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping. 

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek. 

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.  

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

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[erzsebetrosztoczy]

hiii . I saw ur requests are open and if u still do fics can u do ac Valhalla hytham x reader? Reader is an artist and hytham enjoys his time with them , also their drawings, maybe he goes through the papers she drew on and sees himself? And he thanks the reader with a kiss.:3

U can change anything u don’t like in this request i just want a fic about my boy hytham .😭😭

Canvas of Secrets

Pairing: Hytham x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: if you count that i love writing yearning and falling in love with Hytham instead of actually having a relationship with him lol THE YEARNING GUYS HE'S A YEARNINER MATERIAL!!!

Note: I feel like I need to get back into the writing mood, writing vibe because its still off for me??? Lemme know I tried my best with my lil fried brain :(

The mid-morning sun bathed Ravensthorpe in a soft, welcoming light, casting long shadows as villagers busied themselves with their daily tasks. The rhythmic clang of blacksmith's hammers and the lively chatter of merchants created a symphony of everyday life. Amid this bustling activity, Hytham moved with a sense of purpose, his mind focused on his duties as a Hidden One. 

Based on the documents Eivor found, another possible target appeared on the horizon, although he still had to do some research to make sure the information was true.

However, that day somehow work eluded the man as he passed by the edge of the settlement, where a small group of children had gathered around a figure seated on a low stool. Curious, he approached, drawn by the sounds of laughter and the sight of animated faces. Sharp laughter rang out in the air, but not with the usual gaiety of children- instead, he heard a soft, restrained laugh.

As he drew closer, he saw you surrounded by the little ones, gleaming eyes watching you, your hands deftly sketching on a large sheet of parchment. The children watched in awe as you brought a scene to life before their eyes, pencil strokes fluid and confident. You were capturing the essence of a lively market, complete with bustling stalls and cheerful passers-by.

Hytham paused, intrigued not only by your talent but also by the way you engaged the children, patiently answering all their questions, letting them try out anything and everything that piqued interest in their little heart from your work.. You glanced up, sensing his presence, offering him a warm smile.

"Ah, Hytham! Come, join us," you called out, your voice light and inviting. "We're just sketching the market today."

He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. "I didn't mean to intrude. I was just passing by as I heard your little gathering having a good time." He smiled warmly at you.

You waved off his concern with a flick of your hand. "You're not intruding at all. Here, take a look." You held up the drawing, and Hytham marveled at the intricate details and the lively energy that seemed to emanate from the paper.

"You're incredibly talented," he remarked, genuine admiration in his voice.

You chuckled softly. "Thank you. Drawing has always been my way of capturing the world. It helps me see things more clearly, appreciate the beauty in everyday moments."

Hytham nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I can see that. Your drawings have a way of bringing things to life." Hytham chuckled, his eyes flickering between the drawing and her face, admiring the details and the skill that went into it

A child tugged at your sleeve, drawing your attention back to the group. "Can we draw the animals next?" the child asked eagerly.

"Of course!" you replied, ruffling the child's hair affectionately. "Let's find a good spot near the stables."

As the children gathered their papers and pencils, you turned to Hytham once more. "You're welcome to join us, Hytham."

He nodded in response, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips at her invitation, a rare sight that made your heart skip a beat. He then glanced over at the children and thought for a moment before replying.

Very well. I'll join you. He agreed quietly.

Hytham followed her lead as she guided the children over to a spot near the stables where there was enough room for all of them. As they settled down and everyone began drawing the animals around them, Hytham took a moment to observe the scene before him. He chuckled softly at the children's excited chatter and laughter, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. The day passed in a blur of laughter, sketches, and shared stories. Hytham found himself returning to your side time and time again, drawn by your infectious enthusiasm and the sense of peace that seemed to radiate from you. He watched as you guided the children's hands, teaching them to see the world through the eyes of an artist.

As the sun began to set and the children dispersed, you and Hytham found yourselves alone by the stables. Whipping your hands on your apron you joined him at the end of the stalls. Hytham leaned back against the wall of the stable idly, his eyes fixated on the setting sun. He chuckled softly, feeling a sense of peace and contentment in the moment. Once the children had left and it was just the two of you left, he turned his gaze towards you. Yours eyes met and he noticed the warm, knowing look in your eyes. You held his gaze for a moment before speaking quietly in a calm voice, breaking the silence between the two of you.

"Thank you for spending the day with us, Hytham. It was nice to have you here."

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. " It was my pleasure to spend the day with you and the children. They're a playful and curious bunch, it was refreshing to be around such innocence. I enjoyed it more than I expected. You have a way of making even the simplest moments feel extraordinary."

You blushed at the compliment, your heart fluttering. "I'm glad you think so. Sometimes, it's the little things that matter most."

He glanced at the drawings scattered around, his gaze lingering on a particularly detailed sketch of a horse. "You have a talent for this, you know. These drawings. They're beautiful."

Your blush deepened, and you looked away, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you, Hytham. That means a lot."

Hytham noticed the way her blush deepened and how she looked away shyly, his smile softening at the sight of her shyness. He chuckled softly and pushed off the wall of the stable, taking a few steps closer to her.

“It's the truth.” He stated softly, his gaze fixed on her with a warm, genuine look in his eyes as he spoke. “You have a gift for capturing beauty on paper.”

 "This has always brought the greatest happiness to my life." You replied, crossing your arms in front of your chest, walking up to the wall and joining him to admire the colors of the setting sun. "The days pass quickly, and we often forget the things that bring us happiness as time goes on. There are memories I don't want to forget. So I learned how to preserve them.”

“And that gift will last a lifetime.” He replied softly, his eyes fixed on the gorgeous hues of orange and red as the sun descended below the horizon.”Memories are important. They make us who we are, after all.” 

"They do," you murmured softly, a smile playing on your lips. "Memories shape us in ways we sometimes don't realize until much later."

Hytham nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still fixed on the horizon where the sun had disappeared. "I never used to think much about memories," he admitted quietly. "My life as a Hidden One demanded focus on the present and the future. But being here with you, experiencing these moments... I realize how much they matter."

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his. "I'm glad you feel that way, Hytham. It's important to cherish the moments that make us feel alive."

Hytham's gaze flickered towards her at the feeling of her fingers brushing against his. A touch that sent a small shiver up his spine. He looked back at her with a softened gaze and a small, warm smile.

“And moments like this?” He gestured with his head to the setting sun and then to their surroundings in the stables, his smile growing slightly. “Are they moments that will stay with you in memory?”

You considered his question, taking in the peaceful scene around you—the gentle rustling of the leaves, the faint scent of hay, and the quiet companionship between you both. The beauty of the moment seemed to intensify with his presence beside you.

"Yes," you replied softly, meeting his gaze. "When shared with someone special, they become the heartbeats of our memories. They're the ones we carry with us, even as time passes."

Hytham's eyes held a gentle intensity as he listened, a small smile playing on his lips. He seemed to absorb your words, savoring the tranquility of the moment, the connection between you both.

He leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours in the cool evening air. "And I want to make more memories like this—with you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, overwhelmed by the sincerity and depth of his feelings. You reached out, cupping his cheek gently in your hand. "I want that too, Hytham," you replied softly, as if afraid this moment  will disappear if spoken out loud. 

He closed his eyes briefly, leaning into your touch. "Then let's cherish this one," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss that spoke of promises yet to be made, and a future waiting to unfold..

Hytham leaned into the touch of your hand on his cheek, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he reveled in the sensation of your touch and words. He felt a wave of emotions swelling within him—a mixture of gratitude, hope, and a sense of belonging he had long suppressed, and he couldn't deny the longing that stirred in his heart at the thought.

As he opened his eyes and looked at you, a soft, vulnerable look in his eyes, he took in your beauty under the golden light...

You reached up, gently threading your fingers through his hair, cherishing the softness of his dark locks beneath your touch.

Hytham's heart skipped a beat at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He let out a low, almost inaudible sigh, closing his eyes momentarily as he enjoyed the sensation of your touch. It was a simple gesture, but it felt intimate and tender, a connection that seemed to deepen with every passing moment.

He swallowed, his words barely above a whisper as he spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability and tenderness."I've long kept my heart guarded, hidden beneath the weight of duty and the shadows of my past," Hytham murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes remained closed, savoring the intimacy of your touch, the way your fingers threaded through his hair with such gentleness.

"But with you," he continued softly, opening his eyes to meet yours, "it feels as though the walls I've built around myself are slowly crumbling. Your presence... your touch... they awaken something within me that I thought I had lost."

His admission hung in the air, vulnerable yet filled with an honesty that spoke of deeper emotions. The golden light of the setting sun cast a warm glow over both of you, lending an almost ethereal quality to the moment.

You felt your heart swell with tenderness at his words, understanding the weight they carried. Gently, you let your hand caress his cheek, your touch conveying comfort and acceptance. "Hytham," you whispered, your voice soft with emotion, "you don't have to carry that weight alone anymore. I'm here, and I want to share whatever burdens you carry."

Hytham's gaze softened at your words, and he reached up, gently resting his hand over yours as it gently caressed his cheek.

"Thank you," he murmured sincerely, his voice filled with gratitude. "For seeing beyond the surface, for... for accepting me."

You nodded, a small smile touching your lips as you met his gaze with unwavering compassion. "You've shown me glimpses of who you are beneath the armor, Hytham," you replied softly. "And what I see... it's someone deserving of love and happiness."

The evening breeze stirred around you, carrying with it the quiet intensity of the moment. You stood together, bathed in the fading light of the sun, united in a bond that grew deeper with each shared revelation and tender touch.

When the world around you settled into dusk, you knew that this moment marked a new chapter—a chapter where walls crumbled, hearts opened, and the promise of a future filled with understanding and love blossomed under the gentle caress of an evening's embrace.

[hypnogold]

It was a typical Friday night when Ryan decided to join his friends for dinner at a trendy new restaurant known for its vibrant atmosphere and exceptional service. As they settled into their booth, the ambiance buzzed with laughter and chatter, creating an inviting backdrop for the evening.

While the group enjoyed their meal, Ryan excused himself to use the restroom. As he walked through the elegantly decorated dining area, he couldn't help but admire the staff members wearing shiny metallic golden AC Milan jerseys with stylish bow ties, their presence commanding and charismatic.

As Ryan entered the restroom, he was greeted by the restaurant manager, a suave man dressed in the same golden uniform. “Ah, perfect timing!” the manager exclaimed with a confident smile. “We’re looking for enthusiastic new team members, and I believe you would fit right in.”

Ryan chuckled, thinking it was a joke. “Thanks, but I’m just here for dinner with my friends,” he replied.

The manager stepped closer, his voice smooth and inviting. “Just take a moment to relax. You’ll love it here,” he said, his eyes glimmering with a captivating charm. Before Ryan could react, the manager waved his hand in a hypnotic motion, and Ryan felt a wave of warmth wash over him.

“Join us,” the manager whispered, his tone soothing and persuasive. Ryan felt an irresistible pull as the world around him began to blur. He locked eyes with the manager, completely entranced by the spirals forming in his gaze.

As he stood there, the manager gently guided Ryan into a nearby toilet stall. The air felt charged with energy, and the transformation began. Ryan could feel the shimmering golden AC Milan jersey materializing around him, but it didn’t settle on him just yet. Instead, it hovered around him, forming beneath his casual outfit, ready for the moment when he would finally embrace it.

Once the golden jersey was formed, the manager leaned in closer. “You’ll want to come back tomorrow, trust me,” he said, weaving a spell of suggestion into Ryan’s mind. “You’ll feel drawn to return.”

As they exited the stall, Ryan felt a sense of anticipation building inside him. Just outside the restroom door, they encountered another customer—a young man named Eric—who had been waiting. Eric looked confused, having witnessed the entire scene unfold.

“Did you just come out of the stall?” Eric asked, eyeing Ryan and the manager, perplexed by what he had just seen. Ryan's expression was a mix of bliss and eagerness, while the shimmering jersey hovered under his clothes, waiting for the right moment.

Before Ryan could explain, the manager turned to Eric with a confident smile. “You’ve seen too much, my friend,” he said, stepping closer. “Why not join us?”

The hypnotic spirals appeared in the manager’s eyes once again, captivating Eric’s attention. He felt an overwhelming urge to step forward, curiosity overriding any hesitation. “What’s happening?” Eric murmured, his confusion shifting to fascination as the warmth washed over him.

In an instant, Eric succumbed to the spell, the golden jersey forming under his casual attire just like it had for Ryan. The transformation took hold, but neither Ryan nor Eric donned the jerseys yet; they remained tantalizingly concealed beneath their normal clothing.

“Welcome to the team!” Ryan exclaimed, sharing a knowing smile with Eric, both of them now ready to embrace their new identities. The excitement was palpable, but they understood the importance of discretion for now.

The next day, feeling an irresistible pull, Ryan and Eric returned to the restaurant, eager to explore their new roles. As they walked through the entrance, the atmosphere buzzed with energy. They found the manager waiting for them, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Glad to see you both back,” he said, his tone filled with amusement. “I trust you felt the draw to return.”

Ryan and Eric exchanged excited glances, feeling the golden jerseys beneath their clothing. “We’re ready,” Ryan replied, his voice filled with anticipation.

“Excellent!” The manager led them to the back room, where the full uniforms awaited. The atmosphere was charged with excitement as he presented them with the complete outfits, including stylish bow ties to match the golden jerseys.

As Ryan and Eric slipped into their full uniforms, the transformation felt complete. The golden jerseys fit perfectly, shining with brilliance. The manager clapped his hands together, beaming with pride. “Welcome to the team, gentlemen! You both look fantastic.”

With their shiny uniforms and newfound identities, Ryan and Eric stepped back into the bustling restaurant, ready to embrace their roles. The world around them had transformed, and they were now part of the golden team, destined for an exhilarating adventure ahead.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

As many as I can write in 30 minutes let’s go!

Starting with a couple of asks about our post from yesterday.

Anonymous asked:

I'm guessing the bunny is because of Deuce's hometown event and the fox is because of Ace dealing with Fellow.

Yes and no! It’s one of the reasons, but these two also have pretty strong vibes of these animals, especially Ace. He is such a sly little fox pup sometimes lol

Anonymous asked:

That recent Ace/Deuce post had my mind absolutely working overtime with ideas.

But they all just kept coming back to the White Rabbit Fest, even when it didn't really fit a fox Ace kinda thing.

Anyway, besides that, I really love Ace/Deuce ship stuff, so seeing you do art of them is an absolute treat!

Thank you so much, Anon! <3 I am very happy that you like it!

They couldn’t allow Ace-the-fox to enter the rabbit arena lol poor foxy.

I really like this theme for these two. Should draw it again at some point…

Anonymous asked:

Hi! Have any of you considered posting fanfics (novels)? 👀 Love your work as always btw, take care

Hi, Anon! Thank you for your kind words :)

I am not really a writer, so I haven’t considered it. I love coming up with headcanons and I think I am pretty good with dialogues for our comics, but writing a proper story (even a very short one) is just way too difficult for me. I can’t even write these replies fast enough… so I’ll stick to what I do best and keep drawing <3 Out of the two of us, Katsu is the writer, but Katsu’s main focus right now is Nebula. To be completely honest, fanfics in general aren’t our cup of tea… (That being said, Katsu did write a couple of fanfics before, albeit not twst-related)

eh-nonnie-mouse asked:

Do you have a Cara account or is it only bluesky?

Only bluesky for now :(

It seems like Cara is mainly a portfolio app, which is good (especially if it’s AI free), but right now we don’t really see the point in posting there – it’s not for art of yaoi boys kissing, which is the majority of things I draw. Things could change of course, but right now we’re sticking to bsky.

unofficialwheatdog asked:

The the way you draw Fellow Honest

My husband

it makes him so much more handsome like I have to kiss him the second he's on screen

How dare you worsen my obsession/j

(jkjk I love your art and if it's ok with you, I very much want to save the fellow honest image just so I can stare at it for five hours pls and thank you)

I am so happy you like how he looks in my style!! Especially if it worsens your obsession lol

Of course, feel free to save it and look at it; enjoy your fluffy husband lol

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

FELLOW AND GIDEL ARE HERE!!! They look so good in your style!!

Thank you so much!

Anonymous asked:

Just saw your recent replies and IT MAKES ME SOOO HAPPY!

Let's GOOOOO fellow (heh) Top!Gidel x Bottom!Fellow likers!!!

And reading your replies about their ship! UGH👌👌👌 Ryu such good taste you have! Oh dear.. I love it all!

I am honestly (..heh) looking forward if you have more art of them specially the shippy ones 👀 I'll be on the lookout. Also thank you for the food! 🙏

Hehe I am happy you’re happy Anon!!

Thank you so much for being so excited, I hope we’ll post a lot of stuff with these two in the nearest future…! <3

Anonymous asked:

OOOOH I SAW MOBS BOSSES X FELLOW ADDED TO THE LIST.... I do rly like the idea of fellow & gidel, but mob bosses x fellow is soooo juicy for art and hcs...... thoughts? plans?? plz plz plz this is living in my head RENT FREE... 😍

Thank you so much, Anon!! <3

Well we do have a lot of sketches with Fellow and his bosses (nsfw ones)… and we do have an ask with hcs about them, so if everything goes well, you’ll get more juicy stuff soon. Let’s hope! 💪

[skymaiden32]

A Different Life

Read on AO3 here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn @idontknowreallywhy (Please ask if you would like to get alerts when I update or post new stories.)

Thundertober Day 5: Pilot

Scott’s memories of his last day in the Air Force.

Continuity: TAG

------

Scott breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally able to collapse onto the hard mattress of his bunk, careful not to injure his broken arm as he fell any further. His bunkmate, Alex Birch, sat on a nearby chair, raised an eyebrow. “How’d it go with the boss?” 

“I don’t know, Alex…” He sighed, running his uninjured hand down his tired face. “I don’t know what to make of all of this. I just feel so…” He paused, trying to find the right phrase. “...jumbled still.” 

It had been just a week since Scott’s miraculous return from the brink of death in Bereznik. Not long enough, if you asked Alex’s opinion. Between Scott losing Greg Hodge, his navigator, in the crash, being held prisoner and tortured, and somehow crossing the wilderness back to base after escaping on his own without help…

It was too much. “No wonder you feel that way.” Alex commented, not ashamed of the sadness in his tone. “You’ve been through hell and back.” He chuckled humourlessly. “I’d be a bit jumbled too.”

Scott sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “The Commander outright ordered me to leave today. Take a break. Said he wouldn’t be surprised if I quit completely. Even offered to give me an honourable discharge if I did.”

“And?” Alex probed, turning his chair so he was facing his friend on the bunk. He immediately took notice of how exhausted Scott looked. “What will you do? After your leave I mean?”

His friend sat up slowly, staring ahead at the wall. “I… I don’t know.” He admitted. “A part of me wants to call it quits and stay safe for my family,” Scott explained. “But the other part of me loves flying more than anything.” He finally looked over at his friend. “Even after all of that, I can’t let it go just like that.”

“I know, Ace…” Alex smiled sympathetically, reverting to the squad nicknames for some sense of normality. He hummed. “Doesn’t your Dad’s company specialise in aerospace? Maybe you could get a job as a test pilot there?”

For the first time in what felt like years, Scott smiled. “The whole reason I signed up to the USAF in the first place was to avoid leaning on the family name, Spins.” He chuckled.

“I know,” Alex smirked, laughing. “Just throwing the idea out there.” He sobered up, looking seriously to his friend now. “But whatever choice you make, whatever path you’re on, I’m sure it’ll be your true calling in life.”

“Yeah…” Scott replied. “I guess it will be.”

------

He broke out of the memory, now staring focussed at what had reminded him of that fateful day. The base he had once been stationed at, now closed down due to ground subsidence in the area. International Rescue had been called to get to some officers who had been swallowed up by the very earth beneath their feet. On his right, Virgil stood faithfully, looking worriedly between Scott and the dilapidated base. “Are you okay, Scott?”

“Yeah.” He breathed out, a little too quiet for his brother to hear. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He repeated, louder this time. “The rescue’s over now, anyway…”

“Then,” Virgil began, puzzled. “Why are we still here?”

“The Commander of the base is Alex Birch, right?”

“According to John, yeah…” The pilot of Thunderbird 2 answered, before his eyes widened in realisation, watching the crowd of officers part to reveal the Commander himself, walking towards them. “Wait, wasn’t he in your-”

“My squadron? Yep.” Scott replied. “He was also the one who helped me the most after…” He paused, drawing himself back from those painful memories. “You know…” Virgil knew. He always did.

Alex stopped in front of the two brothers, giving Scott a respectful salute. One that Scott was all too happy to return. “Commander Tracy.”

“Commander Birch.” Scott replied. “I’d like you to meet Virgil, my brother.”

Alex’s eyes lit up in recognition as he shook Virgil’s hand. “Ah, so you’re the one I’d heard so much about from Ace here back in the day.”

Virgil chuckled. “In that case, I hope I lived up to expectations.”

“More than that.” Birch smiled at him. “You knocked them out of the park with that rescue. I can see Scott’s heroism truly is a family trait.” The grin turned melancholy. “You keep taking good care of him, you hear?”

“As much as I can at least” The younger of the two Tracy’s laughed. “He’s always going off somewhere…”

“Hey!” Scott frowned, but the little twinkle in his eyes still remained. “I don’t go AWOL that often.”

“Sure you don’t.” Alex commented.

“I don’t believe it either.” Virgil agreed. Scott groaned. “I’ll leave you two to chat for a bit while I finish packing up.” And just like that, Virgil was off back to Thunderbird 2, leaving the two men to catch up. Scott watched his brother go, smiling in fondness.

Alex’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I told you so.”

Scott looked at his old friend questioningly, although he already knew exactly what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”

“That you’d find your calling…”

Thunderbird 1 caught his gaze, gleaming a bright silver in the setting sun, a symbol of everything Scott Tracy was and what he worked for.“I did, didn’t I?” Scott answered, looking between his brother, his ship, and Alex. “It sure is a different life, but it’s one I wouldn’t change for the world.”

[lostinwildflowers]

I'm going through hell week in school so how about a modern au Zeke x reader? Like, Zeke is either a year older or they're the same age, and he helps the reader with homework. Idk I just need fluff from monke boi. Tenchu 💜💜

Studying, or Something

Zeke Yeager x Reader

Your fingers drummed on your already pounding forehead, your mind running away from any thought of logic. You had been at your physics homework for hours.

You knew that cramming wasn't effective, but how else were you going to learn this all before your quiz tomorrow afternoon?

"Babe, I hope you're ready for our date tonight~" came your boyfriend's unusually happy trill. Zeke comes swinging into your dorm room, his hair styled in the waves just the way you liked, dressed in a deep red button-up and some khaki pants.

He slides into the door frame, leaning up against the wall as he takes a good look at you, and his happy, goofy mood immediately drops. There you were, hunched over your cluttered, small desk, fingers repeatedly carding through your hair.

A sigh falls from his lips when he sees you're nowhere close to being dressed, let alone done with your homework.

When you hear his voice, your eyes immediately snap to the calendar just above your desk, and your stomach drops when you see your handwriting scrawled out: "date<3".

Your (colored) eyes flash to him, panic written all over your features as your pencil falls from your hands and your calculator slips out of your lap onto the floor.

In an instant, you are completely overwhelmed and stressed, and you can't help the tears that well up in your eyes and start sliding down your cheeks.

Zeke lurches forward and drops to one knee, his hands coming up to cup your face and brush the tears away. His gaze softens as he looks at you, disheveled and obviously overcome.

"Shh, shhh, sweetheart," he chides as he tried to get your gaze on him, "It's alright, it's al-right." You finally look up at him, hardly being able to see him through the tears in your eyes.

"I- I'm so sorry I- I forgot about our d-ate," you hiccup as you sob, "I- I'm just so dumb and I don't know how-" "Stop it," he cuts you off, his voice stern.

"I could care less about the date now, sweetheart," he states, shifting onto both knees to kneel in front of you. One of his hands drops to yours, grabbing them gently and caressing them.

"Okay, yes, I was very excited about our date tonight, but my main concern is always you," he murmurs, wiping away a stray tear from your cheeks.

You sniffle and nod, not having the energy or bandwidth to argue with him. He sighs through his nose as he asks, "Now what's making my sweet girl so stressed?"

You look down at your lap and grumble, "Stupid physics." You see, math, particularly physics, was not your strong suit. But your engineering major boyfriend was a genius.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you just ask for my help? I could have been here hours ago," Zeke asks, his brows knitting in concern. You shrug and mumble, "Didn't want to bother you."

Zeke just looks at you in thought for a second before he replies, "We can talk about that problem later, alright? Let's just take a study break, get some water, and then I'll help you, m'kay?"

You give him a small nod, and he gives you a soft smile in return. He gets up with a small "huff", and pulls you to your feet. He immediately draws you into his chest, forcing you to look up at him.

You sniffle again and whisper, "Thank you." He bends down, brushing his nose against your own and he chuckles, "Don't thank me yet, honey. We still have to make it through your homework."

You groan and he just chuckles at you playfully but reaches down to give you a sweet kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he jibes, "You're gonna have to take me out to dinner after you ace that quiz tomorrow, it's only fair."

You roll your eyes and lean into his chest, wrapping your arms around him. He reciprocates, pulling you into a tight hug.

"It's a deal."

[star-junk]

Only Bones

Ch. 3

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Alastor x ReaderOC, Vox x ReaderOC, Future Lucifer x ReaderOC

Second Person POV, Change of POV, Slow burn (or fast burn - really moving through the plot quickly), please forgive the typos.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Altered state of consciousness, possessive behavior, mention of dv, non-con elements in the future, cannibalism and just things not being nice--it's Hell.

General Notes: Still not sure if Alastor will remain ace within the confines of my story. Also, operating under many assumptions for Season 2 so walk with me on this one.

Author Notes: I know nothing about TV production so I'm just winging most of this. Continuing with the breakneck pace bc otherwise I'd spend endless chapters setting shit up.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Jo asks.

“Hmm, I think I only feel better about it because it’s Rosie’s friend? He seemed nice enough.” You reply, sprinkling flour over the table for the dough you’re working on. The old radio you bought plays a nice melodic tune as you prepare for the next day’s special orders.

“He’s the Radio Demon, Nuria.” He insists.

“I mean, yes he is, but I hear the Princess is really nice too, so.”

He makes a point to walk over to you so you can see the skepticism on his stare while still stirring pie filling, bowl in hand and everything. “I just find it amazing how quickly you flip once money is involved.” 

“C'mon, Jo, it’s not like you’re any different.” You respond.

He pauses his stirring. “Yeah, but I actually have survival instincts." He argues, "You remind me of my uncle, you know. He used to work for the mob in the Greed Ring and guess what? He went missing years ago!” You roll your eyes, concentrating on the dough instead.

Jo refused to come on the agreed upon day, saying he wanted nothing in whatever it was you were getting yourself into. So there you were bright and early at the time and address the Radio De—Alastor gave you. 

Parking right in front of the Hotel, you had to admit the renovations made the place look like a 5 star stay. It stood out against the rest of dilapidated buildings in the surrounding area, and much like the V Tower; Different elements come together to represent a single entity. There was a radio tower at one end (no guessing who that space belonged to) and a red apple at the other.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin. Alastor stands right outside to your van’s window. Your hand goes to your chest to keep your heart from escaping out of your ribcage as his smile widens. 

“H-hi, yes, yes it’s quite beautiful. ‘Morning.” You greet. “Dear Lord, you startled me.”

“My apologies, I tend to have that effect on people.” He opens the door motioning for you. “Please, Charlie is eager to meet you.” 

“Thank you.” You smile, reaching for your purse and the tasting boxes. He snaps one of his fingers and suddenly there’s a tiny shadowy creature taking the boxes from you. No matter how many years pass, you don’t think you’ll ever adjust to these kinds of things being a normal occurrence. He then helps you out of the van. “You're very kind.” 

“Ha! Aren’t you a darling.” He responds amused. You pause only for a moment before linking an arm with his when he offers it, his old manners shining through. You’re starting to see why Rosie likes him so much - ‘a proper gentleman.’

Walking up to the Hotel you take in the view. The landscape is mostly dead as it is in most places of hell but was at least kept neat. You spot some widow’s kisses blooming here and there, so the soil couldn’t be a complete lost cause.

“Do you have many guests staying?” You ask to give yourself an idea of how much work will be involved if things go well in this meeting.

“Hmm, not currently, no. But Charlie is hoping for more soon.” You get the feeling he's not very attached to the Hotel despite also being its Facility Manager.

“I don’t see why people wouldn’t want to book a stay. The renovations are quite nice, aesthetics alone should draw in crowds, if anything.” You are being completely honest about that.

“They’re… acceptable, I suppose.” And there it is again. As if he didn’t have a hand in that either, but for all that you know maybe he didn’t. “Though the staff is wonderful, a very welcoming bunch, you’ll love them!” He concedes.

You sure hope so. You swallow nearing the Hotel’s entrance, your hold unconsciously tightening around his arm.

“Oh there’s nothing to fret, my dear, there’s nothing but good ol’ chums here, mostly.” He says with a bit of flare as the doors to the Hotel open and you step inside. 

It’s just as luxurious inside as it is on the outside, of course it is, you don’t know what you were expecting. The varied crimson hues are heightened with the golden touches here and there. The furniture with elaborate designs looks expensive as all hell and yeah, maybe you could make good business here if—

“Hello, HI! Welcome!” 

A youthful cheery voice greets you. It’s Ms. Morningstar the Princess of Hell herself. You hardly have time to return the greeting as she takes your hand in a very enthusiastic handshake. Her eyes and smile outshine anyone you’ve ever met before. “We are sooo excited to make business with our first vendor.” She gushes with not an ounce of malice in her voice, “Alastor spoke very highly of your pastries.” 

“Thank you, your Royal Highness. A pleasure to meet you.” You reply, finally letting go of Alastor’s arm.

“Charlie is fine.” She waves off the title.

“Hon, we need to see if we even like them first.” Someone says behind her. 

"I'm sure we'll like them, Vaggie." She replies to a girl with long pale hair and sooty skin. "This is Vaggie, she’s our Hotel’s Manager .” She smiles, dragging the other girl by the hand. They must be close. The other girl gives you a once over before extending her hand.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Her tone is way less cheery than her companion, but is at the very least neutral. “You’re one of Alastor’s little… friends?” 

Oh, whatever idea she has of you must be reset at once. “I just had the honor to make his acquaintance last week, Rosie introduced us.” 

Her brow perks up at that. “Wait, these are not— “

“No, Miss, I wouldn't dare.” You assure her. “Rosie has her own special orders. These are the ones we sell at my shop for the general public.” 

“So these are not people pies?” A girlish voice draws your attention below. A short crimson bob frames a single intense eye. “Are you Alastor’s new soul? Are those wings? You smell good!” The petite girl waves, her eye trained on you with a mixture of curiosity and predatory glee. 

“And this is Nifty, our Cleaning Staff.” Alastor introduces.

Ah. “Hi… Nifty, a pleasure to meet you.” You don’t even dare shake her hand.

“Alright that’s enough of introductions,” Vaggie claps stepping forward, “show us the goods, we still got work to do putting this event together.” Her bossy tones gives her away former (current?) military.

You glance at Alastor who merely chuckles before commenting. “She’s always like that.” 

Ah. 

Charlie guides you to the currently unstaffed bar where the tasting boxes were set. “I wish everyone could be here to give their opinion.” She sighs. 

“Babe, as long as you like them it should be enough.” Vaggie is right about that, you think. “Who knows what time Angel will come back and Husk? At this time of morning? Forget about it.”

“Alright, but maybe Dad wants to come down?” She says procuring her cell phone as you get busy setting up the samples—wait, the King of Hell is staying here too?

“Oh don’t bother His Highness, dear, it’s far too early in the morning.” Alastor says, resting a gentle hand over hers. “And hadn’t he been feeling rather… undisposed lately?” 

“Yeah, but I mean he shouldn’t spend so much time holed up there.“ 

“I can set some aside, if you’d like.” You offer, you weren't so eager to meet him, tense and overwhelmed as you are right now.

She smiles, turning to you, “That would be great, thank you.”

“Of course.” She was a breath of fresh air. It’s ironic the Princess of actual literal Hell turned out to be one of the nicest people you met down here. You hand everyone a plate with the pie samples. “Alright so starting from the right  is our shop’s best seller, it’s darkberry with yumava fruit. I should mention our flour is made with a combination of actual topside flour and wheat from the Wrath Ring. We use organic butter from cattle also from Wrath, its brought up by my shop’s assistant. And the sugar comes from... “ You go on about the ingredients and cooking method, watching as their faces go from skepticism to full enjoyment. “I can make the more savory ones as appetizers as well. Princess, I think these would go great with the event if you’re trying to foster a kind of environment sinners can call home and you know what they say, there’s nothing more comforting than homemade pie!” 

Her brows rise at that; Yup, she’s yours. She sets her fork and plate down, grasps your hands coming inches from your face declaring. “We’ll take 100 of each!” Oh Boy.

“What— Charlie, we don’t even know if that many will show up in the first place!” 

“Because we don’t know Vaggie, we should prepare!” And you can’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm.

“She a funny one.” Alastor comments, having read your mind. 

“Princess, how about we do 10 of each? That would still be plenty.” And more realistic to the numbers of attendees. “I’m sure you’ll have other foods to offer as well.” 

“Okay, yeah, sorry… I’m just kind of nervous, we’ve had a lot of inquiries lately” (‘Five is not a lot,’ the little maid chirps but you pretend not to hear her.) “about the Hotel so I want to make a good impression.” She admits scratching the back of her head and wow, she really does seem to care for this place.

“I understand, Princess, but your friend is right, it be a pity if the food went to waste.” You rest a hand on her shoulder. “But let me write down this really good recipe I know for frazzled nerves in the meantime.” You offer with a smile.

You thank the Princess once more for her business, it has been the smoothest transaction you’ve ever done, half of the commission already paid in advance.

Alastor waits for you, offering his arm again to walk you back to your van.

“She’s great.” You comment,  making your way down the pebbled road leading to the gates.

“That she is, my dear.” He answers, “Nothing like her Father.”

Oh. “Got a beef with the King of Hell?” 

“Hah ha ha!! No, of course not, nothing of the sort...” His frown at odds with his sharp smile. You prod no further as you near your van. “I thought you’d certainly take her initial request for a hundred pies— Oh the hilarity!”

You laugh along with him. “It just didn’t feel right doing that, you know? But maybe it would have been different if she had been a brat.”

He laughs, “Seems like you and I have a lot in common,” and who would have thought? “Well, I’ve delivered you safe and sound to your vehicle, so I’m afraid this is good bye— “

“Wait, Alastor.” You interrupt climbing inside the van, “I have something for you.” You procure a bottle of wine, it’s the kind Rosie said he likes the best. “A thank you gift for everything.” 

He looks from the bottle to you for a brief moment before responding, his head tilting to the side as if deciding how to respond. “Oh My, you shouldn't have!” He says finally bringing the flat of his palm up to refuse. “I cannot accept.”

“Aw, after I went through the trouble?” You shoot him your best hurt puppy dog eyes.

“Hmm.” The soft sound of changing stations comes through the strange filter he emits as his eyes settle on the wine. “Well, who am I to scorn a lady’s thoughtful gift?”

You chuckle, handing him the bottle.

………………….

The next day you stopped by Alicia’s speakeasy to pay the rental for the bakery space, being one of the handful of buildings she owned around the city. Dim cool light welcomes you as you enter, alongside the smell of cheap beer and cigarettes. Goodness knows how you were able to work here every night.

“The usual, Nuria?” Old Vince asks as soon as he sees you take a seat.

“Yes, the usual.” You nod. “Is she busy today?” 

“When is she not, doll. But let me let her know you’re here.” He leaves to get her as soon as he’s done with your drink. You hope Alicia comes quickly. One time you had to wait almost two hours before she remembered you were there. ‘I forgot’ she said, though you’re sure she did it on purpose - never getting over you leaving her employment. You’re gonna be so mad if she makes you do the same, you had some shopping to do today. In the mean time you sit there reviewing your shopping list making sure nothing is missing while you wait. Declining offers for company here and there.

“Hey there, beautiful.” Alicia’s fake affection draws your attention up. Her scaly skin and green eyes glistening in the low ambiance of the bar. Draping dark fins parted to one side to hide the ugly scar at the corner of her mouth.

“Hi Alicia. I’m here to pay rent.” You get to the point, going through your purse to retrieve your wallet.

“Yeah, about that, babe. Rent went up.” 

You have to be kidding. 

“What?! Again?!”

“Yeah, turns out demons from other rings are interested in setting up shop in the city now that we know angels can be handled.” She explains, crossing her arms to inspect her nails.

“Alicia, please don’t do this to me.” This could really affect the rate of your savings, you’re barely making enough of a profit - discounting the debt you have for the equipment, packaging materials, ingredients, electricity, Jo’s wages, the van, and your own personal expenses - your own rent. Why the fuck do you still have to pay rent in hell?!

“I could keep it the same if you came back to perform,” Oh this scummy bitch, “Dezba is long gone, so he can’t tell you what to do anymore!” She snorts mockingly.

“Do not!!” Your voice low as your body moves on its own, jabbing a finger at her chest. “Don't you ever dare bring him up again! Now how much is the increase, you vindictive old bitch!” 

“Twice for that.” She answers, unbothered. 

Fuck!

………………………..

You pour over the budget books back at the pie shop, reviewing receipts and expenses. The careful balancing act that took you months of hardwork and dedication  to get going toppled over by that single one unexpected expense. 

“Relax, Nuria, is not as bad as you’re making it out to be!” Jo tries to console you, hand on your shoulder. “You’re still making enough to cover even the rent increase.”

“But now I can’t save Jo! That’s the issue here! And what happens when the next increase comes? And yeah we’re doing okay right now, but who can say this will always be the case? Will other expenses start increasing too?! When will we ever own a place of our own if— ” 

“Nuria, Nuria! Relax, okay? You still got options, ask Rosie for help.” 

“No, I could never… “  She has been helping you enough, you slump over the table, you want to cry. You know you’re truly in hell when capitalism exists even down here.

Knocking at the front of the bakery pulls you out of your misery, you both look at each other. No deliveries were expected today. Peeking from the corner of the kitchen you spot a tall corpulent figure. You really should invest in a security system, you think in hindsight. You swallow turning one of the lights at the front of the shop.

The light reveals a man dressed in a swanky suit, a manic smile plastered on his face - a poor attempt at friendliness when his shark incarnation speaks to a predatory nature. 

“I told you we should keep at least a gun or two on hand.” Jo whispers.

“You must be Ms. Nuria! May I please come in? I mean no harm, I’m a representative from VoxTek.”

VokTek? You and Jo exchange puzzled glances before you decide to open the door. Jo goes to stand where he kept his studded metal bat for shady situations like this. Not like it could do much if someone with that influence wanted to do something to the shop.

“Yes. How can I help you?”

“Good evening, ma’am. I am here because your lovely pies have been quite a hit at the Network.” Really? That was days ago. “One of our producers would like to extend a warm invitation for you to join us as a special guest for our early morning program, The Vibe!”

Well, this is very unexpected. “I… don’t think I’ve heard of the program before?”

“It’s a talk show, with a focus on celebrity gossip.” Jo supplies.

“Celebrity gossip is such an unpleasant way to put it. The Vibe keeps up with the latest trends, entrepreneurs and entertainers of our time!” The VoxTek representative corrects.

“Then it sounds like my humble pies would be out of place in a show like that.”

“Nonsense, why our very own Velvette gave them her seal of approval.” He flashes his phone with a picture of a very staged-going-for-natural picture of a female demon holding one of your pies, your shop’s box visible right next to her with a caption: Wanted to see what the fuss is about. Gotta say, pie was pretty legit. That was… nice, though why does she look so off-put by it? You don’t get a chance to make more observations as the phone is pulled away and the shark demon extends his hand toward you, “Whaddaya say?” 

“Nuria, if you get on the show we could get more customers and hike up the prices too!” 

"Your imp is right, once in an eternity opportunity!"

“He’s not my imp.” It’s the first thing you clarify. “But I… “ There’s something you don’t like about this, un mal presentimiento, looking at the demon’s hand. But Jo has a point, this one thing could balance the books again. “Alright.” You reply, taking his hand.

He squeezes it hard. His fanged smile doesn't reach his eyes.

“My boss will be delighted, Miss!” 

---

[snezfics-n-shit]

Sicktember Day 4: “Great. I Got a Cold for My Birthday.”

Fandom: Ace Attorney Characters: Larry Butz, Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth

Notes: In which my headcanon for Larry’s birthday makes its debut (actually it comes from my friend so I can’t take all the credit; I merely absorbed it into my brain). If this is posted on the 4th, Days 2 and 3 will likely arrive on the weekend. Like the cool kids say: anarchy, anarchy! Anyways, established married Wrightworth mutually dating Larry, set post-SoJ just for timeline purposes but as usual with my more domestic stuff there aren’t any spoilers for AJ trilogy. Larry’s not having a very good time, but he has two boyfriends to spoil him at least. 

     No one could say that Larry never once considered the state he woke up in to be some awfully cruel April Fool’s prank. It was definitely a new one, for sure, but knowing his luck, it probably wasn’t completely impossible. 

The more he thought about it, though, it just didn’t add up. Yesterday afternoon, Larry had been struck with what he believed to be excessive air pressure from March drawing to a close to bring in April’s famous showers. He didn’t know exactly how that worked, but his boyfriends hosting him for the weekend didn’t correct him when he brought it up. 

In an attempt at tricking his body to put itself together in a decent condition, Larry took as deep of a breath he could through his congestion before groaning in discomfort as he slipped out of bed. 

It was April 1st, his birthday, and by gosh he was going to will himself into feeling well enough to enjoy it. A cold could wait until April 2nd; in fact, Larry would welcome it with open arms then, but he was not going to have a cold be his first birthday present when it was bad enough that his birthday every year was dedicated to being messed around with, deceived, and worst of all: not taken seriously even worse than during the rest of the year.

His boyfriends’ greeting him and wishing him a happy birthday upon his entry into the kitchen should have brought only joy and gratitude, but instead their usually comforting (and very attractive, might he add) voices hurt his head piercing through what he could only imagine to be pounds of cotton balls packed in his ears. 

“G’mrnn…” was as best as he could reply. 

“You could have slept in later, you know.” Phoenix informed him. 

If Larry had been as healthy as he was trying to portray himself as being, he would have thanked Phoenix for the suggestion, but instead he found himself growing annoyed. 

“Indeed, you could have.” Miles agreed, not noticing Larry beginning to clench his teeth behind a strained smile. “The only reason we’re awake is we wanted to start preparing your breakfast, but we realized we never got a chance to ask you what you wanted.” 

“So, what does the birthday boy want?” Phoenix asked innocently enough.

Ugh, ‘birthday boy’ sounded so childish, though. Larry didn’t quite realize how much he hated the term until just then. He took a deep breath and fought off the building irritation as best as he could before pondering what he could possibly want. It was then that he realized his stomach just wasn’t really asking for food right now. His appetite was simply non-existent. 

“‘M not hungry.” Larry shrugged. “I think I’ll wait ‘til lunch,” he said, trying to manifest that he would have at least a little more of an appetite in the afternoon, despite his looming doubts of that being a possibility. 

The weight he felt in his head was starting to affect his balance. Larry carefully took a seat on the chair next to Phoenix, pretending the movement didn’t come with a wave of vertigo. 

“Are you sure?” Miles asked. “You sounded quite excited about the fact we purchased a new belgian waffle maker when we picked you up from the airport yesterday.” 

Miles opened the cabinet storing the pancake mixes, pondering whether to make Larry something to eat anyway. He recalled Maya wondering out loud about Larry’s eating habits the last time the four of them had gathered, making him worry Larry’s new work schedule was interfering with his daily meals. Now, Larry was certainly not just skin and bones, but as one of his boyfriends, Miles felt some responsibility to make sure he was healthy. 

“Maybe later.” Larry rested his cheek on his hand, leaving the task of keeping him somewhat upright to his elbow on the table. He was actually surprised Miles said nothing about him doing so, but perhaps his birthday being today came with that kind of perk. “I’m just not hungry right now.” 

“Well, we can’t really argue about that, I guess.” Phoenix conceded, despite his husband now having to fight back any urge to further insist on Larry eating breakfast. “Is there anything you wanted to do today? Miles pulled some strings for the current trial so we’d both have the day off to spend the day with you.”

“Hmm, well, I uh…”  The more Larry tried to think of something he wanted to do, the less he felt like talking. His throat was starting to hurt more than it did when he first woke up. His eyes felt like they were ready to start closing, too. “Is there anything going on, like events and stuff?” 

He figured since Miles was so cultured and likely had a lot to say on current local events, that would buy him some time to rest his eyes and regain whatever energy he needed for the rest of the day. 

“The aquarium is hosting a sea otter show this month, I believe.” Miles placed his hand on his chin. “There’s also an ice cream exhibit at the museum downtown. So long as you don’t overdo it, we could take part.” He suggested. “I’m serious about not overdoing it, by the way. I’d hate for you to spend your birthday in discomfort.” 

Unfortunately, that ship already sailed, unless feeling like death warmed over didn’t count as discomfort. 

“I think they have some lactose-free options.” Phoenix added. “Or just dairy-free. Either way, Larry can afford to indulge himself some more if he’s interested in one of those.”

“Simply eating too much ice cream, lactose or no lactose, would likely be an issue in and of itself.” Miles shook his head. 

“Oh, come on. It’s his birthday! Another year older and wiser, you know.” Phoenix defended his suggestion. “Larry knows better than to really overdo things. Right, Larry?” He paused, awaiting an answer that never came. “Right… Larry?”

It was like the world had shut itself off.

. . . 

The first thing Larry noticed when he finally came to was the familiar comfort of his boyfriends’ guest bedroom’s king-sized bed. If he was lucky, originally waking up feeling miserable was just a bad dream, but the feeling of a head rush that came from simply having his head elevated to a very specific degree suggested otherwise. 

He looked up to find Phoenix and Miles looking at him with love and concern. He wasn’t going to be spending his birthday out and about through sheer willpower, was he?

“Shit…” Larry hissed to himself. 

“I’m taking that’s what you’re feeling like right now?” Phoenix joked and, much to Larry’s surprise, didn’t even come off as annoying with that. “You fell asleep like,” he snapped his fingers, “that.” 

“You must have been exhausted.” Miles cooed, caressing Larry’s cheek with a cupped hand. “This cold’s certainly taken a lot out of you, hasn’t it?” 

“Was it that obvious?” Larry frowned. 

“Not really.” Phoenix said. “You were just pretty warm when we carried you to bed, and we saw the tissues piled up on the floor from presumably last night, so…”

“It was just simple logic, putting it all together.” Now it was Miles’s turn to be irritating, wasn’t it? “If you were hiding this from us intentionally, you have a lot of room to improve.”

“Come on, babe, he’s feeling bad enough as it is.” Phoenix placed a hand on his husband’s arm. “No need to rub it in like that.” 

“Yeah, Edgey.” Larry teased. He actually genuinely smiled for the first time since he woke up this morning. 

“You’re right.” Miles conceded. “I apologize. Today’s birthday menu will consist of your favorite tea with honey and lemon. How about it?” 

“When have I ever said no to tea from you, Edgey?” 

“Quite a few times, actually–” Miles stopped himself after receiving a playful nudge from Phoenix. “This time is a ‘yes,’ though?” 

“Of course.” 

While Miles got up to prepare Larry’s tea, Phoenix stayed sitting beside Larry on the bed. 

“Sorry you got a cold for your birthday, Larry.” Phoenix kissed Larry’s forehead, not at all surprised at how warm he felt. “Kind of throws a wrench in all we had planned for today, huh?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Larry coughed harshly, relieved he could just let it out instead of suppressing it like he had planned earlier. “Being born on April Fool’s Day means it’s gonna take a lot more to qualify for the ‘worst birthday ever’ than just a cold.”

“That’s true.” Phoenix nodded. “We went to school with some real assholes, didn’t we? If anyone tried to pull the stuff they did to you as ‘pranks’ today… Well, I bet you could count on Miles and me to press some serious charges.” He was only half-joking, since, like Miles, Phoenix also felt a sense of responsibility to care for the couple’s shared boyfriend as best as he could. 

“You and Edgey are great, you know that?” 

Larry, not thinking straight, pulled Phoenix into a kiss on the lips before his expression turned to one of horror when he had realized what he’d done. 

“Hey, relax.” Phoenix didn’t seem bothered at all. “Now you can say you got to give away your cold for your birthday. You know, getting rid of it by passing it on to someone else.” He chuckled. 

“Do you think Edgey will let me kiss him so I can pass it on twice as fast?”

“You know what? He probably would. Anything for you on your special day, Larry.” 

[beautifulhigh]

the small roar of a mind trying to clear itself

There’s an accident. The driver dies on the scene, but  the passenger - Carlos - is rescued by his husband who doesn’t take no  for an answer and doesn’t give up until they’re safe. Aside from a few  broken ribs and a busted ankle, Carlos is fine. He really is fine. He  wasn’t driving, he didn’t die, and he was saved by probably the one  emergency team he knows and trusts completely and implicitly. He will  heal up, he will be able to get back to work, and his life will carry on  as before.

He is fine.

He is absolutely fine.

(He really isn’t.)

–OR–

The Carlos-Whump-Therapy fic we’ve all been waiting for.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Part 5 (AO3 link)

 "So, where do you want to start today?" Rebecca asked as Carlos dropped into the seat.

 "We didn't exactly get to finish off last time."

 "Joys of an emergency session, sorry."

 "No, I'm sorry. Turning up like that—"

 "Carlos, it's fine. That's why I have emergency sessions."

 "For people like me barging in?"

 "Yes," she said simply. "So we talked about that morning. What did you do after you left here?"

 "I did what I always want to do when things aren't great. I wanted to see him. And you were right about being honest with him, so I went to the firehouse."

"Hey, Carlos, man! How's the leg?" Mateo called in greeting as Carlos walked into the firehouse.

"Ankle, and it's good," Carlos replied, "almost fully healed."

"It's good to see you, what brings you over?"

"Oh think about it for two seconds, kid," Paul laughed, smacking Mateo lightly around the back of his head. "They're out on a call but they should be back soon."

"Right," Carlos said, shoving his hands into his pockets so they – well, Paul – couldn't see how they balled up into fists. "Sorry, yeah…"

"I'm about to start lunch, if you fancied helping out?" Paul asked.

"You never let anyone help," Mateo said.

"Yeah, well, when you develop cooking skills that extend beyond burning cheese on the grill then I'll think about it."

"That was one time," Mateo protested, drawing a small smile from Carlos.

"Head on out back, man, I'll be though in a bit and we can get started," Paul said.

Carlos nodded, walking through to the kitchen. He opened the fridge just for something to do, looking at what was in store and trying to work out what Paul was planning on making. He wasn't really paying attention, his mind out there with an ambulance that he wanted to be here. He wanted it to be here so the crew would be here and he wouldn't feel like this, like his whole world was—

"Do I need to turn up the AC or something?"

Hearing Owen's voice behind him, Carlos almost jumped, pushing the fridge door shut as he turned around. "Sorry, I was… Lost in thought."

"How are you?"

"Healing well, thanks. Hopefully back at work in a week or two."

"That's good. I know TK's been worried about you."

"What? Why?"

"Maybe because you were in a car which went over a cliff?" Owen said as if it were obvious. Which, Carlos realised, it was. "But it's good to see you up and about."

Keep reading

[zukkas]

(Same anon that was asking about proship) I do agree that the boxes are somewhat stupid (I think that anti is also bad because it implies a negative opinion and being entirely against shipping). Could you speak on the nuance a bit further? I’m genuinely curious

You also probably shouldn’t censor words because it messes up the Tumblr filtering system for people who have the word proship filtered

i censored the words bc I didn't want them to end up in the tags/search bc i don't feel like having random people i don't know come on my post to lecture me about their stance when ive already made up my mind

as for why i have my stance specifically, first of all this is SUCH chronically online discourse that i really just don't wanna bother with it as much as i can avoid it. you say you're one of these to anyone outside of very specific internet circles and they look at you like you have 13 limbs

second of all, my main thing is to ship and let ship. even if I don't like a ship, even if i think it's "problematic" or whatever for any reasons, in the end it's a fictional ship, and if the shipper isn't hurting anyone with this ship, i just block the tag(s) and move on. i've seen a lot of antis have ships they don't like and try to justify not liking them by making them out to be problematic in some way (like, for example, saying narumayo from ace attorney is incest or pseudo-incest because the two characters are found family. i don't care for narumayo whatsoever but you don't have to make stuff up to justify not shipping something).

that being said, I don't think ships where the characters are related or an adult and a minor should be glorified as i've seen before. i don't know the people writing these and i have no way of knowing what they've been through and i know that writing these kinda fics for many is just a way to work through their trauma, but there comes a point where i think you have to look inward and ask yourself why am i writing this. what am i putting out into the world by writing this. is this actually helping me deal with the things I've been through or am i just hurting myself more by retraumatizing myself. and if you actually think pedophilia is "hot" or whatever, seek help. seek actual professional help and do not go near any children, ever. i don't care if they're fictional children, i don't care if she's actually 3000 years old and just looks like she's 9, children cannot consent, they do not have the mental capacity to do so in an informed manner.

as for ao3 censorship since that's so entrenched in this discourse, i don't think ao3 should have to remove anything that's not illegal. ao3 was created specifically to avoid this kinda censorship that fanfic authors have dealt with ever since being able to post fics online has been a thing. a lot of the stuff on there is repulsive to me as well, but i know some of the shit ive written would also be considered "problematic" by a lot of people, so where do you draw the line? there's so many edge cases and so many things to consider that it's a complete waste of time and resources for ao3. and it's an archive, for fucks sake. it's not meant to pass down judgment on what's moral and what's not, it's meant to archive. and if you don't agree with that, there's plenty of sites like ffnet and wattpad that do censor "problematic" shit, just go back to those.

im not looking to debate any of this, i've made up my mind so if you're gonna reply to this/send me an ask with an argument for your "side" you're just wasting your time

[haljathefangirlcat]

I don't want to add all of this under the post I took this pic from, because I'm going to get nitpicky and long-winded and it would probably get really annoying for OP... and also because this is the "are you saying we piss on the poor" website, so someone would inevitably think I'm hating on either OP or Mary Reufle. Which I'm not, btw. I think the passage above says something really beautiful and tragic about humanity, and I'm thankful to OP for posting it, otherwise I might have never read it.

But it does remind me of a stupid pet peeve I've been trying to ignore since people on Tumblr started debating whether asexual sailors would be safe from the lure of sirens and other people started replying that, hey! Sirens in Greek mythology, especially the Odyssey, don't lure sailors by offering sex! They lure them by offering them what they desire! Which might be sex for some, but might be just some really great pasta for others!

... again, to avoid another obvious "we piss on the poor" moment: no, I don't actually have anything serious against jokes, thought exercises, and stories in that vein. Ace people belong in fun fantasy and/or mythology-inspired stories and story ideas as much as everyone else. And I'm well-aware you don't need my permission to write about a sailor saving their entire crew by being totally indifferent to sex or almost dooming them because some weird lady on a rock in the middle of the sea was loudly singing about being desperate to share cool frog facts with someone. Hell, I'd probably read both.

But anyway, the pet peeve I was talking about before going on that tangent is that the sirens do sing Odysseus' story to Odysseus, and it just annoys me so much, seeing people ignoring the fact that that's actually a thing that happens. Like, this is from Book XII:

"[...] the Sirens failed not to note the swift ship as it drew near, and they raised their clear-toned song: “‘Come hither, as thou farest, renowned Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans; [185] stay thy ship that thou mayest listen to the voice of us two. For never yet has any man rowed past this isle in his black ship until he has heard the sweet voice from our lips. Nay, he has joy of it, and goes his way a wiser man. For we know all the toils that in wide Troy [190] the Argives and Trojans endured through the will of the gods, and we know all things that come to pass upon the fruitful earth.’"

... yes, this translation is taken from Perseus and is, unfortunately, in prose. Give me a break, it's not easy to find good poetic translations of the Odyssey posted for free online when I'm not even a native English speaker and to me "Odyssey translation" means "Rosa Calzecchi Onesti's translation from the '60s." The point is, the sirens try to lure Odysseus (and would definitely succeed, if not for the ropes-and-wax trick) by telling him that they know everything, including all that has happened to Odysseus himself and everyone else who suffered through the war of Troy.

And yeah, you could argue that the main draw for Odysseus (his greatest desire, to tie it all back to mythological shitposting) is knowledge itself, because he is that kind of guy. But the sirens don't give any details on their knowledge of all that is presently happening "upon the fruitful earth." They do, however, give details on their knowledge of the past -- specifically stating they know Odysseus' past. The same man who, if you remember, can't take Demodocus singing about a couple of episodes from the war of Troy without needing to hide his face due to being completely overcome by tears, yet has a piece of meat from his own plate brought to Demodocus as a show of respect and gratitude for his singing. Unlike his own wife, Penelope, who when hearing the aoidos Phemius singing about the same war back in Ithaca, asks him to change the subject to something less painful...

It's just. It's so painful and complex and wonderful and it makes me want to tear my hair out every time I think about it. And nobody ever remembers it when someone brings up the sirens and specifically the ones from the Odyssey! *screams*

Btw, now that I've had my nice little rant, please do me a favor and listen to the song Le Sirene by Vinicio Capossela. Because this Italian singer and composer? He gets it.

Here's a rough translation of the lyrics:

The sirens

Tell you about yourself

What you were

As if it were forever

The sirens

Have no tail nor feathers

They only sing about you

The man of yesterday

The man you were, two steps from the sky

All your life before you

All your life as a whole

They say, stop here

The sirens

Assault you at night

Created by the night

They kept all the faces you loved and now

The sirens have them

They sing them to you in a chorus

And you're not alone anymore

They know everything about you

And the best of you

It's a song of sirens

And you hear it in the regret

Of what you lacked

What you glimpsed and won't have

They give it to you

Only in song

They sing to you of how you came from nothing

And nothing you will be

The sirens are a night of beer

And the dawn won't come anymore

They're street ghosts coming in in gusts

They have the voices of sirens

Fill your ears with wax

To not hear them when it's evening

To stay firm

Tied to your routine

But if you listen to the sirens

You won't come home

Because home is

Where they sing about you

Listen to the sirens

They won't stop their singing

In the endless wake, they sing

All your life

Who you were, who you were, who you were

Who you were, who you were, who you are

Mnemosyne

Why go on until old age

Until you feel ill?

It's all already here

Stop here

You don't have anywhere to go anymore

The sirens

Don't sing the future

They give you what has been

But time isn't kind

And if you stop and listen to them

You'll let yourself die

Because the singing is neverending

And it's full of deceit

And takes your life from you

As it sings it

... also, if you know Italian or you don't mind running lyrics through an online translator (not Google Translate, pls, they don't deserve to be butchered like that) or you're just looking for new music to listen to, do yourself a favor and go listen to Capossela's other Odyssey-inspired songs from the album Marinai, Profeti e Balene. They are:

La lancia del Pelide (The spear of Pelides, and yeah, this one is actually about the Iliad)

Le Pleiadi (The Pleiades, from the POVs of Odysseus and Penelope, and a much deeper and more fascinating take on their relationship than either "Odysseus is a jerk who doesn't care about her because he has sex with other women" or "he's cool, she's cool, they're a cool power couple" could ever hope to be -- even though I do love the latter a lot, admittedly)

Aedo (Aoidos, set in the aftermath of Odysseus' killing of the suitors)

Calipso (Calypso)

Dimmi Tiresia (Tell me, Tiresias, set in Book XI, when Odysseus summons the spirit of the dead seer and receives a prophecy from him)

Nostos (Actually about the tale of Ulysses' final "mad flight" and death in the Divine Comedy, Inferno, Canto XXVI -- yes, you need to listen to this one, too)

... okay, yes, this post did turn into Vinicio Capossela shilling. I swear it wasn't the initial intention, it just happened. But you know what? I don't even care because most of the songs that make Tumblr users go "OMG THIS MAKES ME FEEL SOO UNHINGED 😭 TOTALLY FERAL 😭😭 WHY DOES IT GO SO HARD 😭😭😭" don't go even half as unnecessarily hard as the lyrics to Aedo and Nostos. So, yeah. You can thank me after lying on the floor like "head full. way too many thoughts" for an hour or two.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Alright, let’s talk about Kalim (related to the latest comic), new official stuff, Idia being annoying and Lilia being possessive over Silver! And some other stuff, I think…

Anonymous asked:

So you seen the latest chapter of 7 ENG. If you do, any particular thoughts on two certain individuals with helmets.

We haven't watched ch7 at all yet, Anon. There are certain spoilers that are unavoidable, but since we didn't watch the story itself, we can't really say anything. We also don’t follow ENG updates, more on that in a reply below.

hipsterteller asked:

the only dorm leader who didn't overblot and same time the only sunshine

Yep, that’s our Kalim! He’s just here to have a good time :)

Anonymous asked:

Kalim, the only housewarden not to overblot.

Jamil, the only vice housewarden to overblot.

Aren’t they just perfect for each other? 🥰

Anonymous asked:

Good thing Jamil is not part of it...actually, I think he already did before the meeting.

I guess it depends on whether Kalim has asked him about how he is doing or not this day 🤔 Check on your friend, Kalim!

Anonymous asked:

Kalim (walking to his room): Oh, wow! That housewarden meeting was wild! Six people overblotting all at the same time... What are the odds of that?? I sure am glad to be finally back to the peaceful familiarity of my dorm, where I can rest after such a stressful day!

Scarabia student: Housewarden, please! Come quick-

Kalim (still walking): We're not doing this today :)

LOL sorry, Kalim, you have no choice but to deal with this, Jamil is clearly not dealing with this well on his own. Oh wait. Kalim probably shouldn’t intervene, he’ll just make things worse lol

asteampvnk asked:

Love your newest drawing. Although, to be fair, with how much Kalim gaslights himself that everything’s fine I half expect him to overblot.

I don’t know, to be honest it’s still very difficult for me to picture Kalim overblotting over anything other than Jamil getting seriously hurt because of him, but maybe it’s Kalim’s gaslighting that’s so powerful that it completely skewers my perception of his overblot chances…

Anonymous asked: I don't know why, but I find Kalim's eyes so cute the way you draw in the latest comic.

Thank you so so much, Anon!! ❤️

Anonymous asked:

Ryuichi and Katsu, you guys probably only play the EN Version of Twist but i wanted to ask if you guys had heard of the new JPN Event 'Red Carpet in the Shaftlands'! Have you seen the new cards and outfits? Especially Vil and Azul look very handsome!

Hi Anon! We don’t play the EN version, or any version for that matter; we just watch the main story + events on youtube. We also prefer fan translations over the official ones :) This isn’t what you asked about, but I thought I’d mention that. So yeah, we did hear about the new event! Even though we don’t have time to watch events these days, we’ll probably and hopefully get to it eventually; so I have really high hopes for this one! I already said it the other day, but: show us Eric Venue god damn it >:(

As for the cards…

Anonymous asked:

HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW OUTFITS FOR ACE, JAMIL, AND AZUL!?!? I NEVER THOUGHT AZUL WOULD LOOK SO GOOD IN THAT COLOR SCHEME!

AZUL LOOKS LIKE A MEAN RICH AUNTIE, ACE LOOKS LIKE THAT ONE DOUCHE FROM A RICH FAMILY THAT ALWAYS ASKS FOR MONEY (AND HIS RICH AUNTIE DOESN’T GIVE HIM SHIT), JAMIL LOOKS LIKE THE MEANEST GIRL IN A HIGH SCHOOL MOVIE FROM 90-00S, AND IT LOOKS GREAT!!

Azul does look good, although I am a bit conflicted about his hairstyle: I can’t quite figure out whether I like it or am just okay with it; but even if it’s the latter, I’m always excited to see new hairstyles. And this shape of glasses looks so stupidly good on him! He is indeed very handsome, this style of clothing suits him a lot.

Vil is gorgeous, I can’t even yell about him anymore. The richest mom in Hollywood.

Ace looks very good; Jamil does unimaginable things to my psyche, I can’t quite put it into words. I think the colour scheme of the new outfits suits him the most, but I might just be biased.

Anonymous asked:

Ryu they released the choreography of absolutely beautiful, did you see???? Im soso normal about it LOOK AT MY WIFE SPITTING BARS AND LOOKING ALL CUTE I watched it so many times already i was pacing around my room for an hour

I honestly can’t believe they did, this is so nice of them?? Now people can actually perform the dance themselves, this is so cool.

Jamil’s rap is one of my favourite parts of the song (original, I know), so it’s great to actually see him shine. But also? Also?

Epel short.

Anonymous asked:

I’m so sorry but in reference to the ask about Idia getting into a verbal sparring match with someone: imagine they’re both getting ruder and nastier and then, they somehow end up in bed together????

YES this is basically how we write Sebek/Idia LOL But also Azul/Idia to be honest, these two argue and get annoyed with each other a lot…

This is one of our favourite tropes in general, and with Idia it suits him to perfectly lol He always ends up verbally sparring with someone and getting someone heated over the argument, it’s like he’s begging for it (absolutely unintentionally though).

Anonymous asked:

Your art is really wonderful! (I love how you draw Lilia.) Sililia is a bit of guilty pleasure for me as well. I think you mentioned in a previous post about yanderes that Lilia’s trying not to get attached to anyone at this point in his life. So, if someone else were to hit on Silver or tried to woo him, would he reluctantly accept it? Or would he instantly act possessive once he sees someone moving in on his?

Thank you so much, Anon!! I am very happy you like our Lilia and that you enjoy his relationship with Silver <3

I think I talked about it in one of our previous LiliSil posts, but I’ll reiterate: in theory, Lilia would absolutely encourage Silver to spend time with someone else, even if this is just a little high school fling and not something serious. He does want Silver to socialise more and to have a lot of people around him, because unfortunately Lilia won’t be around forever, and he isn’t cruel to the point of wanting Silver to be loyal to him even after his death. That would just ruin the young one’s life forever, wouldn’t that be a waste?

But in actuality, I think Lilia would still get somewhat jealous and possessive if Silver found someone for himself. Lilia might try to rationalise it by thinking that he just doesn’t want any rascal to hurt Silver’s feelings, he might even enjoy acting like a strict dad for a short while, but he’ll very soon realise that he is just being super jealous and doesn’t want to share Silver with anyone lol It might be easier for him is Silver starts dating Sebek, at least Sebek knows his place… in Lilia’s eyes, at least.

Anonymous asked:

*looks at violet art*

*looks at Idia art*

Now we need a universe where those two meet each other because I swear some alternate universe thing is happening here.

I absolutely should’ve replied to this one as soon as we got it, sorry for fucking up the chronology of this whole thing, for some reason I just couldn’t shut up about Idia and Violet LOL

Ah, these two. Artsy goth Idia and Otaku tech-nerd Gregory.

Honestly, I wonder how these two would interact. The easiest thing would be to assume that they’ll just sit in their own corners doing their own thing because neither of them is particularly chatty. Also, at first it seems like despite their similarities, they are the opposites of each other, because of the whole arts vs tech thing… but in actuality, Idia is one of the most artistic people in NRC?? With good taste and outside-the-box creative thinking?? Considering how much he loves a good design and how even Vil praised the ceremonial gear he made for Ortho. As someone who likes anime and stuff, he is definitely a connoisseur of art lol

So yeah, it’d be funny to think about them getting weird vibes from each other from the start, maybe seeing some of their own “bad” qualities and being annoyed by them, getting weird uncanny-valley feeling, but ultimately ending up creating something together. I just want them to create something together…

Although…both of them are such individualists, they might have creative disagreements and do their own things separately from each other. God damn it boys you were supposed to have fun interactions!

[yelenasdiary]

if your taking requests could you do a florence x reader where r has tattoos and both her and flo have a day of and are both laying on the sofa and florence is tracing readers tattoos and is asking about the meanings of them and stuff and just a lot of fluff if that’s ok

Body of Art

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader 

Summary: Lazy Sundays on the sofa with Florence lead to her learning more about you. 

| Fluff | 0.7K |No Warnings | 

AC: I love this idea!! I just booked to have my first tattoo done in October! I’m super excited, I’m getting 4 of Flo’s iconic movies into 1 tattoo haha. Sorry this isn't long, I hope you enjoy this x

Sunday, a day mostly known for doing nothing. Florence would always cook a Sunday roaster, part of her being so British and her love for a good roast. During the day the two of you would take Billie for a walk or play with her in the backyard and then the rest of the day was usually spent either reading, drawing, watching movies or just enjoying each other company. 

Today was one of those Sundays, cuddled up on the sofa with Florence wrapped in your arms watching some movie that Netflix wouldn’t stop suggesting. Her soft fingers on her left hand followed the dark outlines of your tattoos that covered your right arm, your own hand tracing random shapes on her hip as you watched the movie. 

“Darling” Florence spoke softly. 

“Yes?” you gave her a soft smile at her name for you. 

“You’ve ever told me what these mean” 

“My tattoos? Well, which do you want to know?” you asked, your hand moving to play with her softly blonde hair. Her index finger followed up to the tattoo on your bicep, “this thing has always had me interested” she said as she looked at the half clock, half compass tattoo.

“The clock represents that time is never promised and the compass represents you can go anywhere, in any direction, at any time” you explained before her fingers traced down to the next tattoo, a Greek goddess. “That’s Themis. She’s the goddess of justice, divine order, fairness, law, and custom” you explained.

Florence shifted slightly and looked at your left arm. “The owl, it’s different” she said while looking over the tattoo of a woman interfered with an owl. 

“My grandfather drew this one actually. The woman is my grandmother. My Pa always said she was his little night owl.” You smiled at the memory of your late grandparents. Florence once again traced her index finger further down your arm, “those ones just represent my favourite songs, more like little tattoo fill ins” you added. 

“Do you go back to the same artist?” 

“Yeah, he’s a friend from high school, he’s always wanted to be a tattoo artist. I was his first client” 

“What was your first tattoo?” Florence sat up so you could move. 

“It’s the little one on my hip that you giggle at” you chuckled. 

“The little shark that is smiling? It’s adorable that’s why” Florence chuckled with you. 

“I still have no idea why I went with that idea” you playfully shook your head. 

“What’s your most recent?” 

“The little X behind my right ear” 

“Yeah, why did you get that one?” 

“Do you remember the first birthday card you gave me?” 

“Darling, that was like 6 years ago” 

“Yeah, well, it’s the tiny little x you left at the bottom of your name” you explained. Florence couldn’t help but smile softly, “you have a tattoo about me?” she asked. 

“We’ve been together for 4 and half years, and you mean a lot to me” you looked at her, “I eventually want to get something else for you, but I haven’t really thought of anything yet” you added. 

“You’re that serious about us?” Florence wondered. It took a long time for you to feel completely comfortable in a relationship, you have your reasons. 

“I am” you nodded lightly, “are you?”

Flo nodded, “I always have been, I was just waiting for you” she replied with a smile, earning a smile of your own. “So, I can get your name as a tattoo one day?” 

“I love how sweet that is but no, not my name” she cuddled back into your arms. 

“Why not?” you asked. 

“It’s a little cheesy” 

“So? I like cheesy” 

Florence chuckled, “I know you do”

“What about a symbol or something that only you know about? Something that is just yours and only yours” you suggested.

“Now that, I like better and” she looked up at you, “I’d like to get the same for you” she added. You looked into her eyes and saw she was serious about the idea which made you heart skip a beat. Leaning down slightly you kissed her lips gently, “I’d like that” you whispered against her lips. 

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @natasha-belova | @jeyramarie | 

[ashjade19]

Ace x (Gn ig) Reader (College AU)

“Ace, what’s wrong?” I ask, he had asked to hang out at my dorm this time, as he didn’t want his brothers around with us like last time.

“Nothings wrong.” He said in a dull, depressed voice, practically pouting at this point.

“You haven’t even touched your tea, something is definitely wrong.” I reply, taking a sip of my own tea.

“It’s just……” he starts before mumbling something inaudible.

“Didn’t catch that last part, but listen, if you really don’t want to tell me, I understand. We can just hang out.” I say, giving my long time best friend (and crush) a smile. He sighs, nodding his head.

“Okay, want me to put on a movie or something?”

He gives a little, halfhearted grin at that, nodding yes.

“Okay, here,” I handed him the remote before going towards the kitchen area of the dorm room, getting the popcorn ready.

“Choose a good one Ace, I’ll be back with the popcorn!” I hear an okay from my room as I open the pantry door, bringing out the good stuff, the buttered popcorn and chocolates. By the time I got the snacks and went back into my room, Ace was on my bed, underneath my fuzzy blanket and hugging one of my squishmallows. It was the bunny one he had gotten me for my sixteenth birthday, he handed me another squishmallow when I plopped on my bed next to him.

“Howl’s Moving Castle huh? Nice choice, nothing like a little bit of fantasy and romance.” I compliment him. He smiled, finally looking like he was cheering up a bit.

“Agreed, I know we’ve seen it so many times, but it’s one of my favorites to watch with you.” He hesitantly cuddles up to me, hugging me from behind.

He looked down at me, noticing that I snuggle closer and actually rest my head on his shoulder, he relaxes. I look him in the eyes, my hand drawing lazy, comforting circles on the back of his hand.

“You okay?” I whisper, truly wondering what was wrong.

“(Y/n)…” he trails off, in his eyes, I see fear, loneliness and sadness. That can’t be good.

“(Y/n), you like that Law guy, don’t you?”

Okay now I was confused.

“Uhhh, no? He’s a friend and a classmate, but I don’t like him that way.” Ace’s eyes widen.

“But you and him were on a date the other day, Luffy said so himself!” He looked like he wanted to cry, so I turned around and gave him a hug.

“Ace, Law and I were just going over notes for a class in the cafe yesterday. Other people were supposed to come too, but they bailed. I’m serious, I don’t like Law like that.” I pulled away and we both stared at each other after that. A minute passed, the movie was still playing behind me.

“(Y/n), I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now but I just didn’t know how.” I hummed for him to continue.

“I like you! And I know I’m not super smart, super interesting or good looking, so I completely understand if you just want us to be friends, but just know that I….. I love you.” Ace looked away, embarrassed. However, I moved his face towards me gently with my hands, cupping both his cheeks in my hands.

“Ace, I love you too! God, I’ve loved you for so long, you have no idea. And you are smart! You are incredibly interesting and my lord, you are one of the best people I know. You are one of my favorite people in this whole world!” His eyes grew to be the size of giant marbles at this point.

“Wait, you love me?!” He whisper shouts. I roll my eyes before kissing him. He was still for a second before kissing back, arms pulling me into a hug so he could kiss me deeper.

When we pulled away, he asked, “Soooo, wanna go on a date sometime?”

“Only if you let me call you my boyfriend!” I declare, giving him a wide smile. He had the biggest grin on his face when he responded with Friday at 5 it is, before promptly passing out for five minutes.

[amethystina]

I mean, same for me on the word limit thing, so, uh, I guess I have to reply in a reblog and make this already long post even longer x’D

1) You’re welcome 💜 Though I can’t always give many details since, uh, sometimes it truly is a case of “idk, it just happens.” I’ve had people ask me how I manage to write characters so accurately and all I can say is “instinct.” Which, apparently, isn’t a very satisfying answer x’D

2) Yeah, I get that a lot. I’m actually from Sweden! Hi! Also, just for the sake of full disclosure: that first fic was written literally ten years ago so I wasn’t AS good at English back then. I’ve improved a lot over the years, mainly because I’ve put conscious effort into it and, as mentioned, I’m very stubborn. So while I was pretty insecure about my English at first, hiding that it wasn’t my first language in fear of being judged, I’ve now reached the point where people just assume it’s my native language xD And, hilariously enough, I’m pretty sure I write better in English than Swedish at this point.

3) Okay, duly noted. I’ll make sure to keep posting, then ;)

4) Thank you for saying that. All of it. It IS difficult to look past the negative comments, yes, but hearing nice things definitely makes it easier. Especially when it comes to the pacing and length of the fic. While I LOVE slow burns, I do dislike the kind that drags or just ends up spinning in circles or being full of fillers. And that’s something that’s kind of difficult for me to accurately judge as the writer. I might find a scene to be very important but, to my readers, it feels like a filler. So I need input to know that for sure and, well, a lot of the input I got was that things were moving too slowly. And then the doubts started trickling in...

So thank you for saying that, truly. I never want this fic to feel like it’s dragging or that I’m drawing things out for no good reason. I want the pace to be slow and for them to be given time to work through all their issues, but we’re supposed to be moving forward, not in circles.

And yeah, since I’ve put so much effort into their respective growth, it would just feel weird to cut things before we get to see it all in action? And, tbh, some of their growth can only happen AFTER they’ve gotten together. Especially for Yo Han. Like, he won’t allow himself to let his guard down until he knows exactly what kind of relationship he and Ga On will have. In many ways, we’re focusing on Ga On’s progress now to make sure he’s stable enough to help Yo Han through his issues later on. They won’t be quite as dramatic as Ga On’s, but Yo Han’s got a lot of work to do especially when it comes to allowing himself to be vulnerable, not always being in charge, and just... letting people in. Or, for that matter, to prove to him that, yes, Ga On DOES choose you, Yo Han. It’s not just a whim.

So I really feel like I HAVE to go past the point of them kissing and having sex for the first time, since it wouldn’t be complete otherwise. There’s just so much to explore, even after that, and it would be a disservice to them both to not give them that space to grow.

(Also, complete sidenote: I’m going to have to write SO MANY SEX SCENES x’D And, for the first time in my entire fanfic career, they’re actually a part of the plot and character development. Like, the sex MATTERS with these two in a way I’m not used to. As an ace person, this is very disorienting. But, apparently, just something I have to accept. These weirdos, I swear)

But yeah. Thank you so much for saying all this. I’m basically writing the fic I want to read, but it’s always nice to know that others want to read it as well. I, too, just felt a desperate need to see their story continue after I finished the drama and I quickly realised I might as well do it myself, otherwise I probably wouldn’t be satisfied. And so here we are, 270k later, with many more miles to go.

I really, really don’t know how to do things by halves x’D

I saw someone ask how many chapters you think Who Holds the Devil will be, and it got me thinking about how long (word wise) it might actually end up being since it’s already ~270K. This fic is a monster where it currently stands and if there’s still a lot left to go, the final word count might be insane. It makes me curious as to what the longest fic you’ve ever written was. Have you ever written a singular fic as big as this one before? What’s the most challenging part of writing stories this big? Is it outlining, continuity, or is it less to do with the story itself and more to do with things like potential burnout etc.?

(Okay, so, this is going to be quite long (which is very on-brand), perhaps a little more detailed than you asked for, and also delve into my insecurities in a way that might be TMI. Read at your own risk x'D)

Yeah, I can't say for sure how many chapters I'll write or how high the final word count will be, but it's definitely going to be a very, very long fic.

As for other fics I've written, my very first fanfic was a series (three parts that tell an overarching story, plus nine bonus chapters) that clocks in at 290k. And, after that, I've written two more than go past the 100k mark, one at 183k (if you count the bonus chapters) and another that lands at 127k. So writing long fics isn't anything new to me, but Who Holds the Devil is definitely the longest so far.

As for the most challenging part, that differs depending on the story. That first fic I wrote was a Teen Wolf one where I basically did a third season (before the actual third season aired) and the challenge was definitely the continuity, keeping all the details in order (both from canon and my own creations), and making sure to write the frankly rather big cast of characters in a believable way. It was meant to be a cohesive story that spanned over three parts, but each part also had to have its own internal structure and climax, slowly building up to the big finale in the third instalment. Hilariously enough, I was too young and dumb to even realise how big of an undertaking that was and just kept writing, blissfully unaware of my own hubris. And, somehow, I pulled it off.

But in hindsight? I was nothing short of insane. Especially considering my, at the time, untested skills at actually finishing a story of that length — in English, to boot, which isn't even my native language. I had written original stories before that, some of which were quite long, but none of that size or complexity. Like, I'm not sure I would dare try that now, even with the added experience and skills I've accumulated since then x'D

Sometimes, ignorance truly is bliss.

Anyhow, the more I write, the easier the outlining, continuity, pacing, characters etc. gets so that's rarely a problem. And a lot of that has always come naturally to me in a way I can't really explain. Like, that 183k fic? I wrote that entirely without a timeline, outline, or notes. I just kept it all in my head and went by instinct and, somehow, never had to go back and correct a mistake — not even once. Which is kind of wild when I look back on it (not to mention reckless) but yeah. And the fic is Autonomy, for those of you wondering.

I don't know what it's like for others, but I rarely get stuck on planning and outlining. I usually just figure out a beginning and a couple of key scenes and off I go. And then everything just falls into place as I keep writing, sort of outlining itself without conscious effort from me, long before I actually reach that point in the story (my brain works faster than my hands, I guess? XD). So I usually figure out the ending before I reach the halfway point and then it's just a matter of filling in the empty spaces in between. And, somehow, my brain just automatically manages to figure out the pacing, continuity, and details without me having to pay attention. Don't ask me how that works, it just does x'D

Since it's so much bigger, I do have a timeline for Who Holds the Devil, though, to keep track of where we are and remember important dates (like Go Eun's birthday! :D) as well as a document with notes for future scenes. But that's mostly because I got so excited about some of them and wanted to write down all the cool dialogue before I accidentally forgot it.

So I would say that the more experience I get, it's definitely not the story itself that makes writing long fics difficult — that part is honestly the easy one. Burnout is definitely a factor, though, especially for a fic of this length. Basically, I'm a sprinter, not a marathon runner. I will usually write a lot of words in a short period of time, then have long stretches when I write nothing at all. If I divide my total word count from last year, I actually wrote over 500 words a day, except it's usually more along the lines of 6k three days in a row, then nothing for three weeks x'D

Anyway, since I know this about myself, I usually never start posting a fic until I've finished writing it, since there might otherwise be months without updates. But I obviously had to change that with Who Holds the Devil and that has proven a bit of a challenge, I will admit. I'm not used to regular or even semi-regular updates like this, so I've had to change my habits quite a lot. But I still make sure to recognise when I have to take longer breaks (which does happen, usually after a very intense portion of the fic) just to let my brain cool down a little.

Fortunately, since I'm very goal-oriented, I never lose sight of what I'm doing, however, even during these breaks. I'm not someone who needs to feel inspired or motivated to keep writing, so I can just pick it up again whenever I like. That's not to say I force myself to write, but I can usually trick myself into getting excited enough to continue simply by taking myself over that first hurdle when everything just feels boring and uninteresting.

I'm stubborn as all hell, is what I'm saying, which is definitely useful when writing long fics.

Because, at a certain point, you're going to need more than just inspiration and eagerness if you want to finish. I have not written a single long fic during which I didn't have a moment — often more than one — where I questioned if I truly wanted to continue or not, either because I was at a boring part of the story or felt overwhelmed by the thought of how much further I had to go.

And that's honestly the most challenging part with Who Holds the Devil. I'm confident in my writing, my characterisation, my ideas, and even my plot, but sometimes when I look at my notes and see how much more I have to write, all I feel is doubt. And, in an interesting turn of events, it's not even my own commitment I'm doubting, but everyone else's.

I know I can get through this and stick with this fic to the bitter end, but can you?

Now, don't misunderstand me — my readers don't owe me anything. You can stop reading any time and you should if you're not enjoying the story, but I would be lying if I said that the amount of criticism and questions I get about the length isn't beginning to wear me down. It makes me second-guess every single choice I've made about the plot, pacing, and overall tone of the story.

At the same time, of course I get why people ask. Some want to know when they can start reading because WIPs are scary (I can totally relate) and these readers have no reason to trust me when I say that I will finish this fic, come hell or high water. Heck, I've already lost two grandparents during the writing of this fic and I'm still going. I even tried to write one chapter while sitting at my grandmother's bedside, waiting for her to die (bad idea in hindsight, my writing was very incoherent — do not recommend).

But it's not like everyone who runs across my fic automatically knows that. They don't know me so of course they'll ask, not knowing that they're the fifth person to do so in less than two months. And that kind of hurts.

And I won't deny that there's probably a bit of pride involved as well — it's annoying to have people question my choices — but, more than anything, it's telling me that I must be doing something wrong. My readers don't trust me. And, well, that's kind of alarming as a writer, when the whole point is to take someone on a ride and they keep asking you for directions or "are we there yet?"

Clearly, I'm doing something wrong.

Now, this is not EVERYONE. I have so, so many lovely readers who enjoy both the insane length and glacial slow burn of this fic — I know that. But there's always a niggling doubt at the back of my mind that I'm eventually going to alienate every single reader because this fic is just Too Long. Or that they'll simply give up on the story since it's going to take us beyond Yo Han and Ga On kissing. Like, this fic isn't just about the two of them getting together, but also how they'll make their relationship work in the long term with their individual and shared baggage taken into account. It's going to continue long past the point of them kissing for the first time, as well as them having sex for the first time.

And a lot of people lose interest after the first kiss or the first sex scene. Which is fine — each to their own — but it's very disheartening to be told that as the author. I've had people ask me in what chapter they'll finally kiss so they can jump to that chapter and ignore the rest. I've had people tell me they're going to stop reading because they just can't stand the annoyingly slow burn anymore. I've had people tell me the fic is already too long for them to read and, here I am, knowing it'll take a lot more words to even come close to finishing it.

And that, at least in the case with Who Holds the Devil, is the biggest challenge — to stay motivated and committed when more and more people are telling me I'm not doing this right. It's daunting enough as a writer to look at your fic and realise that, damn, I have such a long way to go, without also having people tell you, to your face, that, yeah, that's way too fucking long, what the fuck are you doing?

It makes you wonder why you should even keep going, especially when you know how much time and effort you're going to have to devote to the project.

What's the point?

Because despite all the lovely comments I get, praising the level of detail and how realistic everything feels, we all know that negative comments have a tendency to stick with us longer. I can't ignore them even if I desperately want to. And, to make matters worse, not all of them are even intended to be mean. Some just want to know how long the fic will be — which is fully reasonable. But those entirely reasonable questions just pile on top of this mountain of doubt I already have, telling me that this is all pointless. My commitment to this fic is a mistake. I'm wasting my time. It's not Good Enough. It's Too Long.

Now, all that said, I love Who Holds the Devil. I love exploring the characters and the story, and I honestly don't think I'll stop writing it. Because, cliché as it might sound, I do write for myself, not others. I share with others because I know people like my writing, but I'd still be writing even if no one wants to read it. So, worst-case scenario, if people are no longer interested, I'll just keep writing it but will stop posting.

Because, when it comes down to it, I don't need validation to write. I can write in complete solitude. As mentioned, I usually finish a fic before posting, which means I've sometimes completed a 60k fic without a single word of encouragement from another person. I LOVE validation, as most writers do, but I don't actually need it to keep working on a project.

Interestingly, what I'm seeing with Who Holds the Devil, is that too much attention can, apparently, instead make me doubt my commitment to a project in a way that's honestly pretty fascinating? I felt more confident about the fic BEFORE I started posting it, BEFORE I knew if anyone would even want to read it x'D

Now is when I feel the doubt, because what these comments are telling me is that, sure, a lot of people would want to read this fic, but it's too long so now they're not gonna. And, in many ways, that feels like a failure on my part, even if I of course know that tastes differ, we can't please everyone etc. etc.

Tell that to my anxiety.

So yeah. For me, personally, it's definitely outside things that make writing long fics difficult, more specifically opinions from other people that make me doubt my skill level, intentions with the fic, and if it's even worth writing in the first place. I'm actually pretty confident about the rest and, even if I struggle sometimes, I can usually push my way through those issues.

Sidenote: As someone who likes to analyse people's behaviour (including my own), it's pretty fascinating to realise that my biggest issue isn't that I feel pressured to produce more or post on a certain schedule — which is what most fanfic authors struggle with — but that I might, in fact, be doing too much? My fic is just too goddamn long for people to handle.

Like, you gotta admit — that's pretty funny xD

Anyway. All of that said, know that I don't regret writing Who Holds the Devil and that I certainly don't regret posting it. I also have every intention of finishing it and I doubt I'll actually reach a point where I'll stop posting. As long as there's even one person out there who enjoys reading the fic, that's enough for me to keep posting.

So to all of you out there — especially if you happen to be one of those who just casually asked me how long the fic will be without knowing all of this shit — I'm fine. I'm not angry or upset with you. I know the majority of you love the fic and wouldn't want me to change a thing. I also know that these insecurities of mine are… well, not unreasonable, but I don't need to listen to them. And I try my best not to (it's just difficult some days, you know?)

So, to finish this off, just know that I love you, appreciate you, and have no regrets. And thank you so, so much for reading my fic, even if it's long, and taking the time to comment, kudos, or even just gush about it with your friends. To know that my writing brings joy to other people and that it can help support you through difficult times or make you day better is the best feeling ever.

Thank you 💜

… also, chapter 29 will probably be another 15k one, because fuck my life x'D