#im gonna finish it fully and then post it chapter by chapter instead of all and onec | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

diodellet · 2 years ago

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what can i do for you? (jamil viper x gn!reader*)

i was originally thinking of a hcs post for who would be the best charac to borrow a hair tie from and then realized my bias would shine through so... yeah? hooray for ya girl's first twst fic? jamil makes me confused... like i wan to punch him sm???? maybe its bc im still in recovery over not getting his alab naria ssr content warnings: -anachronistic (it is set in the main story of twst, the events of the Prologue chapter happened but there are no references to Overblots.) -references to some spoilers for Book 4 -*reader has thick, long, not-straight hair word count: 5.5k words

chapter 1: just let me do this for you

When it came to most things in his life, Jamil had little to say with regards to how he felt about such. From a young age, he was taught to put his personal thoughts aside. If he had so much to say, then he could direct that energy to his work instead. From a young age, he was taught not to make a big deal out of things, rather, he learned to placate and smooth things over. With time, even little joys were overlooked out of his mind’s automatic urge to run through his tasks and obligations again and again. There was no end to the things he had to attend to, so whatever he felt, whatever he had to say, would go disregarded and ultimately remain unsaid. But for some reason, today felt different.

Of course, nothing outwardly changed. Flight class was technically his second subject of the day after morning training at the basketball club. The sun’s rays had yet to grow harsh and he had enough time to get his body to fully wake up. The flying drills were easy enough to accomplish. With it being early into the semester, the class was still being made to recall past lessons. But as usual, Jamil would have to take his time completing them, making sure to match the majority of his classmates’ skill level to land squarely in the middle. Though, the teacher’s attention was mostly focused on the first years since it was their first time flying out in an open area. Another loud yell followed by the shrill sound of the coach’s whistle told him that another first-year nearly fell off their broom.

Sparing the field a cursory glance, he estimated that he could complete the practice course a bit quicker than he usually did. He could shave off a few seconds from his regular record. Maybe he deserved to show some progress in the class and use the remaining time for something else. Hovering above the treeline, he watched the specks of students going about. The cool temperature of the wind grazed against his shoulders, the golden ornaments in his hair chimed softly with the movement. For once, it could be said that Jamil was in a good mood.

The same couldn’t be said for you though.

He spotted you, the blue flames of your familiar’s ears starkly standing out against the field of green and the black of the PE uniform. That combined with the loud and late entrance the both of you made, caught the attention of all the involved classes. Your frantic screaming, along with the broom speeding faster than what was manageable led to the pair of you getting stuck in a tree. The two Heartslabyul students who frequently accompanied you, tried to get you down without aggravating any possible injuries you sustained.

Come to think of it, he did have to remind Ace about afternoon training. Guiding his own broom, he descended to land a ways from where your group was standing.

“Have you ever heard of a hairbrush?” Ace picked a bunch of leaves out of your hair.

“I already told you I woke up late—ow—so I couldn’t.” You winced before swatting his hands away. “...and besides, my hair tie broke.”

“Y’were hurrying me to finish eating breakfast…”

“Because you’re powering the broom, Grim. I’m not gonna make you do that on an empty stomach.”

“Maybe you could get a haircut if it’s such a hassle to take care of?” Deuce suggested as he handed you your broom. It probably flew and landed a bit further away after you and Grim crashed.

“Maybe.” You tilted your head, tone pensive as you considered the prospect, before your expression gave way to a grimace. “But it’ll be expensive…”

“Come visit Heartslabyul then, we’ll use the hedge shears on you.”

That remark pulled a laugh from you. And it was contagious, making your friends smile in turn. The conversation continued in such a way as you slowly combed your hair. With each pass of your fingers through the locks, your expression would scrunch up in slight pain before you’d move on to undo the rest of the tangles.

“Okay, this is probably the best I can do. Ace?” You held out an open hand to accept his spare hair tie.

“Took you forever. Coach Vargas’ll be calling your names any second now.” He dropped it into your palm.

“Not if he calls you guys first—Coach! Trappola’s skipping out on drills!” Just as you raised your voice to bring attention to your friend, the hair tie around your fingers snapped apart, turning into a piece of string. “Ack—wait!” you cursed.

The shrill sound of Vargas’ whistle pierced the air. “Trappola, enough dilly-dallying! You’re up. Spade, you’ll be after him!”

“Ha, karma!” Ace laughed at you before hopping onto his broom and speeding off.

“No! Argh!” You scowled, shoving the useless band into your pocket. Letting go of your hair, letting it tumble down your shoulders.

“I think y’deserved that, henchman.” Grim quipped.

You asked, “what do we do, Grim? Do we just go for it?”

“Just don’t start screaming at me again. Let’s go, let’s go! We’re gonna be left behind!” He pawed at the side of your leg, before bounding off in the direction that Ace and Deuce went in.

You leaned against your broom and carded a hand through your hair, then again and again. The repetitive motion seemed to do little for you and you ended up dropping onto your haunches, releasing a long shaky exhale.

“Are you alright?” he asked, deciding to approach you.

“Oh crap, you saw that—” You straightened up. “Agh, I’m sor—I mean, who are you?”

He introduced himself as a second year in Scarabia, added that he was in the same club as Ace. At the mention of that, your initial trepidation dissipated. You also introduced yourself, the magicless student living with Grim in the formerly-abandoned dormitory.

“Your familiar made quite the appearance at the entrance ceremony,” he remarked.

“Aah… Grim isn’t really my familiar,” you explained. “But he needs the credits, so… we’ve become sort of a package deal.” One of your free hands toyed with the ends of your hair.

Jamil had to admit that he could somewhat empathize with your situation. Having to pick up after someone else, spending all of your time being responsible for another. It was the story of his life. “It seems like a handful.”

Which was a severe understatement, considering the bits and pieces of rumors surrounding you and the several times he’s seen you chasing after the catlike monster through the hallways. Said understatement elicited a laugh from you. “You should’ve seen us earlier.”

“Earlier?” He injected a practiced amount of obliviousness into his tone.

“Ah, nevermind.” A loose lock of hair fell in front of your face as you rocked on the balls of your feet. “By the way, you wouldn’t happen to have either a spare hair tie or tips for controlling a broom, would you?”

He had a spare, always kept one on him. But not in the case that he misplaced them. The band of red had its improvised uses. “Why do you ask?”

“There’s only so much my understanding of theory can do for Grim. I’ve tried asking others, but I don’t…” You kicked at a patch of grass as you considered your next words. “...I don’t get it,” you admitted in a soft voice.

He could hazard a guess as to who you asked, and yet there wasn’t much he could do to help. Casting magic differed from individual to individual. For him, his own magic was almost indistinguishable from himself, it felt no different from moving a limb. One of his hands came up to his chin as he sank into thought. “You’d… lessen your chances of having an accident as long as you don’t pull up your broom. There’s no ceiling to stop you this time.”

“Easier said than done, but thanks.” You gave an appreciative smile. The wind kicked up and your expression gave way to nervousness as you glanced up at the sky. “Fingers crossed I don’t fall and break all my bones.”

“Wait.” Jamil reached into his pocket and pulled out his spare hair tie. “This will also help.”

You fixed him with a suspicious look, but nonetheless accepted it. “This won’t break on me, will it?” He shook his head, no.

You looped the band once, twice, three times into a snug ponytail. “Oh, huh.” You ran the tip of your finger along the decorative feather.

“It’ll hold up better than Ace’s.” His lips curled into a knowing smile.

“...So you did see that!” You pointed accusingly at him, mortification painting your features. “You saw all of that!”

Before Jamil could reply, the sharp sound of Vargas’ whistle piercing through the air followed by the sound of your name being called cut your conversation short. For a moment you looked unsure of what to prioritize, until you moved to grip your broom with your other hand. “I’ll give this back!” You called over your shoulder as you ran towards the practice course.

As soon as the class ended, he searched for Ace, managed to remind him about that afternoon’s meeting. To which the freshman responded with a casual ‘aight,’ before going to return the brooms. He supposed that the three of you would switch every now and then to be the one responsible for putting away all your brooms.

Grim jumped onto your shoulder, climbed to perch atop your head to crow about his flying skills. You reached a hand up to scratch at the fire monster’s chin, calling his attention and quizzing him about the different ingredients needed for a Numbing Potion, the steps needed to prepare mandrake root, and… the correct method of handling poisonous ingredients? That wasn’t something brought up in Potions quizzes.

There’s a story behind that, probably. Before he could approach you though, Deuce turned your attention to his own notes. You squinted at the page, mumbling silently to yourself as you pieced together his solution. You sounded unsure as you explained the problem to the fellow first year.

At the sound of Ace’s voice saying that the both of you were wrong, Jamil withdrew. Okay, guess that means he shouldn’t disturb you and your friends.

He had other obligations to attend to anyways. He could just ask Ace to get it back for him during training. Of course, a part of him was irked at the thought of carelessly leaving his belongings with another person—a stranger, at that—but if he lingered on those thoughts, he’d end up nursing a migraine for the rest of the day.

He didn’t know it then, but that was the last time you addressed him casually.

[...]

His good mood for the day ended with that Flight class. A pop quiz sprung on the class which mainly consisted of material from an advanced, optional reading. Don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t the spontaneity nor the class’s collective low scores that irked him, rather the teacher’s disappointment in said results which added insult to injury. Following that, his next class, a research paper comprising a quarter of his final grade was assigned and made into a group project. Which he didn’t see the need for, it was just a vocal majority of the class wanting to coast by without exerting much effort.

Look on the bright side, he reminded himself with a copious amount of sarcasm, there were no pressing emergencies so far today. But then again, that could’ve been a problem in itself. Call him paranoid, but the times where Kalim has tried and failed to solve his own problems were too numerous to keep count of.

“How were your classes?” Kalim asked.

“They were alright, nothing noteworthy,” he replied with a shrug as he took Kalim’s things. “Did you turn in the student information sheets to the Headmaster?”

Kalim pressed a hand against his temple, the bracelet adorning his wrist clinking with the movement. “Oh, I almost forgot about that. I still need to collect them from the first and second years.”

He supposed he could afford to leave club early for this. “I’ll make sure to do that after club, then.” While this would hurt his chances of being picked for the starting lineup, dorm responsibilities always came first. The reminder did little to calm the bit of annoyance flaring up inside him though.

Kalim’s expression shifted into one of concern. "You don't have to, I can do it after my classes."

"There's going to be a meeting for the dorm leaders later today though.”

"Then I could just do it after that—oh! Or we could do it now," he suggested brightly.

“No.” Jamil could feel the startings of a headache above his left eye. “You’re not skipping lunch for this.”

The sound of idle conversation and students milling about grew louder the closer they reached the cafeteria. The queue for the buffet was almost long enough to snake around the perimeter of the room. At least he had the foresight to pack lunch, that only left the challenge of finding free seats for the both of them. Jamil’s hand tugged at the collar of his hoodie. Or maybe they could eat at the courtyard, the weather outside seemed fine—

“Hey, is it alright if me and my friend sit at this table?” Spoken too soon.

At least, there was a familiar face.

“Sure, knock yourselves out. ” Ace replied, giving a casual wave.

“Thanks!” The both of them took the seats across from your friend group.

His clubmate sat between you and an empty seat. You were resting your head on your folded arms, asleep. Judging by the lack of trays, Deuce and Grim were probably somewhere in the line getting food.

“We’re back!” Speak of the devil.

The other Heartslabyul freshman carried two trays, and passed one of them to Ace, while a third one hovered just behind him. Grim leapt onto the table, looking awfully pleased with himself. Another round of quick introductions were made. Jamil learned that this was apparently a regular occurrence when you had multiple quizzes to take during the day.

“Wake up, I got us food!” The levitating tray fell onto the table with a clatter. But you didn’t stir at the sound. The monster padded closer to you, pawed at the exposed part of your face. “I got only the best morsels for my henchman!”

“Did he get into a fight?” Ace looked up from his meal, at Deuce’s sheepish expression he grimaced. “The both of you? Jeez, they’re gonna be in for a rude awakening.”

“I tried stopping him…”

“They got a taste of my fiery wrath, mwahaha!” Grim ignored the way that the other two tried to shush him. “Ooh, what’s that?”

“Hm, this?” Kalim pointed at his lunch. “Wanna try some? It’s really good.”

With wide curious eyes, Grim moved closer. “Don’t mind if I do—hey! What gives?”

Jamil held out a hand to block the fire-monster from taking a straight out bite of the food being offered to him. “Don’t just give away your lunch like that, I only made enough for you.”

Before the dorm leader could protest, an upbeat guitar instrumental started playing. You slowly sat up and turned the alarm off before it could repeat. One of your hands wiped at your face. There were imprints marking your forehead and the side of your cheek from your uniform’s sleeves. Underneath your elbows, an Alchemy textbook was being used as a makeshift pillow.

“Henchmaaan, this guy’s tryna starve me!”

“Don’t listen to ‘im, he wants to eat someone else’s food.”

“It’s really fine, I don’t mind sharing!”

“Kalim, are you even listening to me—”

You blinked owlishly at each of them, the gears in your head slowly turning as you took in the situation. “Um, who…what?”

In those few seconds, Grim took his chance, lunging to snatch a piece of meat from Kalim’s unguarded lunchbox, cackling to himself as he bounded to your side.

You were still fighting off your drowsiness, the two first-years were telling Grim off and apologizing to the dorm leader while said thief showed zero remorse, and Kalim laughed brightly with amusement. Whether it was pointed at himself or at your friend group tripping over each other, or some mix of both, it was his go-to reaction to everything. Especially in the face of nuisances.

Jamil massaged the bridge of his nose in an effort to stave off the returning headache. Why did he even bother? He set aside a portion of his own lunch, giving it to Kalim. “Here.”

“Thanks, Jamil!” God, Kalim’s persistent optimism was painful to look at.

He didn’t respond, only tugging his hood up and keeping his attention pointed at his lunch.

The only good thing about eating in the cafeteria was that the ambient noise was more than enough to make up for any awkward pauses in the conversation. Unless you were in the company of someone who never ran out of things to say.

“Hey, I just noticed that you’re wearing the same thing as Jamil.” Like right now.

Keeping a neutral expression plastered on his face, he stole a subtle glance at you—you were poring over a section in the textbook with Deuce, who leaned over to get a clearer look, to Ace’s chagrin—the red gem adorning the hair tie gleamed, standing out against the curls of your ponytail. The three of you looked up, pausing the last-minute review.

“Oh, I always keep my hair tied—” you started to answer before your eyes widened in realization. Hooking a finger around the band, you freed your unruly hair from its hold and reached to offer it back to Jamil. “I’m sorry, I was too focused on our next class—”

“But we’re going to have to change into our lab coats later. For the practical quiz?” Deuce reminded you, passing the empty lunch trays to Ace.

You clapped a hand, the one that was holding his hair tie, against your forehead. A loud curse fell from your lips. “Ah…I forgot about that too…”

“It’s alright, you can keep using it.” The practiced response was basically muscle memory for him at this point. An automatic impulse to placate, to never rock the boat.

“Are you sure?” A concerned, almost guilty expression washed over your features. That sight, combined with the loose locks of hair framing the sides of your face, was…hard to look at for some reason.

Making a noncommittal sound, he busied himself with putting away his used utensils. “Just come by Scarabia after classes end.”

It wasn’t like he had anything important to do anyway.

[...]

Because of club meetings, you and Grim were the only ones visiting. You mentioned something about how the both of you still had yet to join a club, with the majority of cleaning up the Ramshackle dorm taking up your afterschool activities. But what was supposed to be a quick visit to the dorm ended up becoming a full tour of the place at Kalim’s insistence. He just had to find himself in the company of not just one, but two additional absent-minded individuals.

He should just ask for it back, get it over with—

“Oh, would you like to have some snacks? My family sent over a few boxes of baklava to share.”

“Baklava? What’s that?” Grim’s tail flicked back and forth.

The moment he resolved one problem, another one would spring up. “...Sure, I’ll handle it.”

“Thanks Jamil,” Kalim said, before turning to Grim. “You haven’t tried it before? It’s really yummy.”

“But what is it?” The sound of conversation faded behind Jamil as he went to the kitchen.

Pressing the heels of his palms to his eye sockets, he allowed himself a scant few seconds of letting the frustration wash over him before composing himself. Filling the kettle with water and setting it on the stove to boil, then pulling out the needed number of plates and a platter to serve the pastries on, tasting for poison…

He remembered how Grim gorged himself on most of the food he brought for you during lunch. For once, there was a silver lining to the lavish amount that was gifted by Kalim’s parents.

He’s much calmer by the time he leaves the kitchen, effortlessly balancing the trays of food and bringing them to the common area.

“Ooh, that does look yummy.” Grim appraises after giving his serving of baklava a cursory sniff. “I’m diggin’ in!” He raised his fork to take a large bite of the dessert.

Jamil learned that the fire-monster’s paws were capable of some dexterity the more he watched Grim eat.

“What do you think? Eat as much as you like, my family sent lots! Jamil, have some!” Kalim held up a forkful.

Jamil acquiesced, pausing in his task of serving tea. The flaky pastry combined with the flavor of honey and pistachio was a welcome sweetness. “It’s good to eat.”

“‘Good to eat’? This is delicious, henchman, I demand another!” Grim held up his empty plate.

“What’s the magic word?” you asked, holding the refilled plate away from Grim.

“Now, please!” The response pulled a short laugh from your throat, more amused than exasperated. You chided him for taking such large bites.

Kalim explained, “oh, he actually means that there’s no poison in the food.”

The both of you looked at him, then at Jamil. “...Poison?”

The dorm leader waved a dismissive hand. “It’s kind of why I only eat Jamil’s cooking.”

Your expression was unreadable as you took in Kalim’s words. Throughout the tour, whenever Kalim would mention something about his home life, about Scarabia, you would glance over at Jamil for just a fraction of a second before going back to the conversation at hand.

So he was caught. More than being the vice dorm leader, more than being his so-called ‘friend,’ his presence around Kalim was a job, and it was one that he performed strictly out of duty.

“Ah, sorry for bringing the mood down. But you don’t need to worry about us!” Kalim reassured you. “Would you like something else?”

“No, no it’s okay.” You mustered a polite smile. “I um…think I’d like some more tea.”

“Sure!” He accepted your cup, refilling it to the brim. Ignoring Jamil’s insistence to do it for him.

It wasn’t like the attempts made on his life put a dent in his naivete, Jamil thought to himself. He set another piece of baklava on his plate and took a bite, this one was walnut-flavored. Sure, there was the occasional moment where Kalim suffered from leftover nausea after recovering from poisoning, but he always bounced back.

The light conversation started back up, eventually. But you still wore that pensive expression, carding your fingers through the end of your ponytail as you listened to the conversation in front of you.

“I’ll start cleaning up.” Jamil stood up from his seat to take the used dishes and empty teapot. His initial estimate proved to be right, seeing as how there were no leftovers for him to dispose of.

“I’d like to help!” You stood up, somehow managing to neatly stack your plate and fork with Grim’s while holding your cups in your other hand.

“Just leave it to me,” Jamil reached forward to accept it from you before you took a step back. “What are you doing?”

“You… can’t take it from me if I take it to the kitchen first!” Your words spilled out in a rush before you dashed away.

You didn’t even know where anything was—just how were you planning on doing that?

“Kalim!” He scowled as the dorm leader took the teapot from the tray and followed after you.

“I’d like to help too!” he called back with a bright smile on his lips. The gesture sent a rush of irritation through Jamil. “The kitchen’s the other direction!”

He was expecting to hear the sound of shattered ceramic, another mess for him to clean up, but the sound of light-hearted laughter echoed in his ears.

“Mragh…do they really have to do this every time we visit someplace else…” Grim grumbled himself before hopping off the cushion.

By the time he arrived at the kitchen, you were halfway through washing the used dishes. The sleeves of your blazer were messily rolled up to your elbows. You were in the middle of talking about how your first few days at the Ramshackle dorm, how the ghosts were capable roommates despite their incorporeal form. It was almost like you barged into a family, but they were willing to accept you and Grim under their care, never mind the rocky start.

Though your voice and pleasant expression remained steady, the moment Kalim asked about your family, one of the teacups tumbled out of your hold and landed in the sink with a loud clatter. The noise shattered the warm atmosphere.

Jamil took that as his cue to guide Kalim out of the kitchen, which the latter reluctantly agreed to. Giving you a worried look just before he left.

“Please excuse him, Kalim didn’t mean to pry—”

You shook your head, at least you didn’t seem angry. “It’s funny, I can remember doing things like this with them.” You glanced at Jamil, then back to the running water before admitting quietly. “But I barely remember them, my family, my friends.”

“Don’t think about that, henchman. You have me now.” You stumbled as Grim leapt onto your shoulder, clambering up to the top of your head.

“...You’re right, I guess so.” The smile didn’t reach your eyes.

[...]

You stood in front of the mirror, head craned upwards to stare at the intricate frame. Your hands busied themselves with twisting and picking at your fingers. Since you were standing alone, Grim probably went on ahead at your request.

Jamil decided to speak up, “forgetting something?”

Turning to the sound of his voice, your confused expression gave way to sheepishness as you noticed what was in his hand. It was the notebook you were carrying with you when you arrived at the dorm. “Oh shoot—” You quickly took it and flipped through the pages. “Sorry, where’d I leave it?”

“It was in the common area.”

"Y’know, I think that place is more ‘pillows’ than lounge.’”

“You can thank the Asim Family for that.”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, just that lost ‘nd found spells got to have a limit or something.”

“Or you just get used to it.” He shrugged.

A part of him thought back to the brief conversation in the kitchen, the little admission you made. But you made no mention of it again, there wasn’t a trace of embarrassment, no hesitant request to forget about it. Your hand carded through your hair, brushing aside the short baby hairs, and through your ponytail. His eyes caught how your fingers grazed against the ornamental feather attached to the hair tie.

“You should start heading back to Ramshackle.”

“I know, I really should…but I still feel like I’m forgetting something.”

His hair tie. You were still wearing it, but at some point in today, you had completely, unwittingly accepted it as part of your person. He might just outright ask for it back, but instead, he asked you, “what are your classes for tomorrow?”

You blinked. “Um. I think I have five subjects? No, wait—”

“That should be History and Alchemy.” He counted on two fingers.

“—yeah. Uh, we get free study on Wednesdays so that leaves Animal Linguistics and Practical Magic.” Four fingers.

“And what do you have to pass for those subjects?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Oh crap…what were we going to do tomorrow—there’s a quiz for History of Magic… two worksheets to pass for Alchemy homework, um…Oh! We’re going to have a report on a new chapter in Linguistics...” You listed the first three easily before trailing off to think.

“Nothing for Practical Magic?”

Your brow furrowed. “...I don’t think so?”

“No assigned readings? Practice quizzes? Group reports?” He listed a few more options. Mentioned anything but that band of red tying your hair and keeping it out of your face. With each shake of your head, he watched your expression sink deeper into contemplation.

“I think we just have a lecture for that day… Everything else is due next week.” You conceded after a few more seconds of racking your brain. “Ugh, it’s right at the tip of my tongue though. I really think I’m forgetting something.” You recounted the same number of requirements on your own hand, the index finger of your other hand bending your pinky.

His hand returned to his side. “You’re overthinking it.”

“Big words, coming from the Dorm of Overthinking.”

He couldn’t help the exasperated sigh. “Mindfulness and overthinking aren’t the same.”

“Are too—wait, now I know what I’m forgetting!” Well, it was fun while it lasted. He expected to see you reach upwards and undo your ponytail, to see your hair tumble messily over your shoulders, to hear a quick goodbye. Normalcy was only two quick steps away, the distance between you and the mirror.

Instead, you folded your other fingers, holding up your pinky. “I’ll come over after classes to help you out.”

“Ha?” Your solution was to give yourself more to do?!

“Is-is that too much?” Your head tilted to the side, concern laced your tone.

Schooling his expression back into a neutral one, he backtracked, “no—I mean, don’t you have anything better to do?” With your free time? He left that last part unsaid.

“You’d have to be a fool not to admit that two sets of hands are better than one,” you reasoned.

It isn’t that simple, he wanted to say. If only your words could have undone the rigid duty that had dictated his entire life. But, what could he say to someone who was just as, if not more, stubborn than they appeared? It was too much of a hassle to deal with, he reasoned to himself.

He linked his pinky finger with yours. Made no mention of the way you tensed up at the contact and filed it away in his mind. “Very well, I’ll hold you to that.”

“Cool.” A few more beats passed, your gaze darted from his face then to your joined hands. “...okay.” Your tone softened bashfully at that last word. With your head tilted downwards, as if adamantly turned away, more loose strands of your hair slipped from your ponytail. At least you weren’t able to see what his own expression looked like. He imagined brushing the hair aside and tucking it behind your ear.

Instead he drew back, pulling his hand away from yours and slipping it into his pocket. In this way, the residual heat from your hand wouldn’t dissipate as quickly. “Didn’t you say you had a test for History tomorrow?”

Breaking out of your reverie, you cursed and turned to the mirror. “You’re right, um… Sorry for overstaying my welcome, thank you for to—” The rest of your sentence cut off the moment you went through the portal. But he didn’t need to guess what you were trying to say. Your goodbye floated in the air, pleasant and warm, settling comfortably into his mind.

He spared a glance outside. The sky was growing dark, a day consisted of 24 hours, and he wasn’t one to lose track of time. But a part of him swore that whatever happened that afternoon took place for longer than two hours. He stopped in his tracks, for once he wasn’t thinking two or three steps ahead for tomorrow and the day after.

Get it together, Jamil Viper. His facade as a retainer for the Asim family slipped back into place. First, he had to clean up the lounge, then prepare dinner. After that he needed to go over the recent chapter for Ancient Incantations, to help Kalim review for Defensive Magic. What could be prepared for breakfast and lunch tomorrow, he should ask if Kalim had any preferences. He counted each task on a finger, his mind seamlessly recalling what else needed to be done for tomorrow, for the party this weekend, and so on.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he didn’t take a look until late in the night, after he finished putting everything away and made his last checks around the dorm.

Unknown Number IM SORRY I FORGOT TO RETURN YOUR HAIR THINGY AAAAAA I can Run back and drop it off Or is it Too late??? Ahhh im really sorry See i KNEW i was forgetting something this whole time!!!

From the first message, he already knew who the sender was. Did you ask Ace for his number? He changed the name to yours and started typing a reply. Unbeknownst to him, an amused smile tugged at his lips.

Jamil It's fine, I already told you I have more than one. It isn't a bother. Red looks good on y|

What was he doing? The back of his neck grew warm with embarrassment. He erased that last message.

Just make sure you bring it with you tomorrow.

chapter 2: take my hand like you mean it chapter 3: you're afraid to believe it A/N: first id like to thank @jessamine-rose for her time and patience in dealin wid my shenaniganery as she beta'd this story. fic+chapter title credits to this song iykyk wink wonk idk what else to say other than strap in? get ready? this is overly self-indulgent? ill update the links when i get around to finishing pt. 2 (as of now im 1.2k words in) i hope this was fun to read haha i was being hounded with worms in the brain for this funny guy lmao (read: 🤧📢📢GAGO KA JAMIL HANGKYUT MO TALAGAAAAA) don't be afraid to rb and holler in da tags! i cherish each and every comment 💞💞

#dellet-writings #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #g/n reader

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trinitytrilogy · 1 year ago

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hi! i just noticed your patreon has no posts anymore? i don’t know much about patreon so i don’t know if that’s something that just happens but if you deleted all your posts on there, does that mean zeus’ dilemma is discontinued?

kfljdskljfk tdlr; not abandoned, i'll have a better post soon, im sorry yall :sob: i feel rly guilty, but there will be an update this month. more below the cut and tysm <3

hi! it's actually lowkey the opposite? i had a Bad Time at the start of 2023, and completely forgot like pretty much everything until i pulled myself out of that hole. i started writing again in july but i figured with the intense delay between my last post and now i should get two chapters out instead of one. anyway, chapter nine is kind of a quicker one (and i had already written the c romance lock and one of the other ro scenes, and chapter eight was previously drafted i just had to edit and add a few ro scenes spontaneously), so i figured why not. i'm also gonna release chapter five publically then, so ive been going back and making sure the first five chapters r as polished as i alone can make them.

if i simply cannot for some reason finish chapter nine by the end of this month, i'll just go ahead with posting chapter eight, so it won't be fully no updates for a while. it clocks in at about 20k words (and the parent scene is not written and will not be written), so its not unsubstantial i hope.

chapters 10&11 are both bigger than 8&9 in theory, but ive already written the romance locks for k&a (which take place in those chapters respectively) so there's a little work done there too. all in all, i'm about 75% of the way done w ZD and i have no plans to abandon it given how much it's taken to get this far,, im just bad w social media bc it gives me a lot of anxiety lol. im gonna log off again until ch. 9 is done (or aug. 31 hits lol), and im sorry if i havent gotten to ur ask, this was literally just the one at the top of my inbox. ik im rambling, but tysm for reading this far <3

i also have a separate message for patrons or anyone who used to be a patron, but that was dksjfkldsjk so i'm so sorry, just bear w me for a bit until i get the writing ready, i have a bad habit of letting guilt overwhelm me and making things worse.

#update

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callme-aprilroseisha04 · 1 year ago

Text

guys I’m rlly sorry I haven’t posted in a while other than reblog but I’m trying to put all my energy into that sonic prime au explanation so I can get it out by the end of next week (the end of my winter break) so here’s my in progress explanation on what the @&$!? is going on in the voices!au

————————————————————————

OK so originally I had this MONSTER essay in what this was about but im really really bad at explaining things and I don’t want to leave you hanging forever so instead I’ll just give you a basic rundown of the concept and all the plot points. Also, important thing to mention, I HAVEN’T FINISHED SEASON 2 YET. Y’know, where the majority of my AU takes place. Haven’t finished that. Haven’t even seen Chaos Metal Sonic. Sorry, sorry, I know, I’m a fake fan but in my defense every time I turn on the show I want to bang my head against a wall, tear all my skin of, and run in circles at the speed of light (in a good way) (but also in a bad way) (a good bad way). Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I need to quickly explain the concept behind this. In the first episode of Season 2, Avoid the Void, Sonic doesn’t realize that he can run out of the Ghost World. He’s stuck there. This also means that he can’t save shadow from falling into the void (this is why shadow doesn’t have an arm or a leg in my au illustrations, he wakes up before he can be fully disintegrated, but he did lose some limbs.) Back to Sonic, since he has nothing better to do, he tries to take a nap at the beach where his friends are at and starts “taking” to Tail’s projection. Then, the voice comes. I don’t really know how to describe this. There is a voice, like the name states, but it’s also a lot more complicated than that. When “it” comes, sonic can’t hear anything; or well actually he can hear things (sometimes the noise feels oppressively loud) but he doesn’t know what people are saying, so to him it just sounds like gibberish. Also, this isn’t always true, (it just depends) but his eyes won’t focus properly and they get really blurry, like can’t see what’s in-front of you blurry. Also, headaches! Because apparently we needed to make this even worse for him for some reason. It’s not at its worst here, but as you can expect he is pretty disoriented after it’s done. Shadow comes back to the ghost world, Sonic is understandably surprised by his lack of two limbs, he gets the tech and bounces, yadayadayada, all the stuff. More importantly, now we get Nine back! Chapter two; Sonic goes to Boscage Maze, they’re ripping the place up, Sonic goes to help Thorn, mini “voice” episode as an appetizer, he gets a tech upgrade from Nine, he goes to fight, gets the main course “voice” episode, Nine gets in trouble cause emo tween egg boy caught him talking to Sonic trying to figure out what’s wrong with him and why he’s talking to himself, Sonic gets the shard from Thorn, he runs of with it, emo eggboy sends a message that they’re gonna kill Nine unless Sonic gives them the shard, Nine tells him not to, he goes anyway and THROWS THE SHARD INTO THE OTHER SHARDS THE EGGMEN HAD COLLECTED SO HE CAN SAVE NINE, (he tries to get the shards back but they got swarmed by robots) and finally they get out and go to the ghost world. Shadow is really, REALLY mad at him for trading a SHARD just to save a little kit boy and ALSO mad because Sonic wants to keep Nine there, to keep him safe. Eventually, Shadow gives in after Nine mentions that he could build shadow a prosthetic, but he adds the clause that the moment nine finishes the prosthetic, he leaves. After that, Sonic goes to get the rest of the shards back while nine makes shadows prosthetic at tail’s workshop. For the next few chapters, we get into some sort of a routine; Try to get the shards, come back to the ghost world to rest, squabble with shadow, chat with nine for a little, and repeat. Some important things to mention from this period are:

Nine is intentionally taking his time making Shadows prosthetic as well as making it break really easily & adding a secret “feature” that allows him to DUCKING electrocute him from afar using a remote implanted in his mechanical tails;

Sonic doesn’t actually sleep during this time, he just takes 3 hour naps so he can get back home quicker, which only worsens the voice thing;

Shadow, (who doesn’t understand what’s going on with sonic other than the vague sense that something’s wrong with him, unlike nine who got a basic lil explanation from sonic after asking wtf happened at boscage maze) is getting increasingly frustrated with Sonic because of how long it’s taking for him to get all the shards, as well as his continual trusting of nine.

This continues for a while, those “episodes” get worse and worse, Sonic grows closer to Nine and tension keeps building between sonic & shadow until……… THE EGG COUNCIL COMES!!!!! Again, since i still haven’t seen season two of Sonic prime, I don’t really know how this is gonna happen, but I do know it is gonna happen. (btw nine finishes shadow’s prosthetic & leaves like a day before the egg council comes) This is a massive battle and I have like a whole thing on how it’s gonna play out but the important things to not for the story are: Shadow finally sees Sonic’s “episodes” play out in front of him & he is understandably confused and concerned, but their in a battle right now so he can’t really do anything about it and …..

SONIC TRIES TO CHOP OFF HIS F$!)KING ARM! Ok, I definitely need to explain this a little more. During the first occurrence of the “voice,” it mentions something about them and sonic being the same person, & basically just says “I am a part of you, Sonic. The only way to get rid of me is to get rid of you.” Edgy silly stuff like that, y’know? Well, during this one, it repeats that again and in Sonic’s panic, he decides to do something incredibly stupid and risky based on even dumber reasoning. You see, the voice said it was a part of him, not all of him. It also said that in order to get the voice out, he’d have to “get rid” of himself too. So, using this logic, if he only gets rid of a part of him, then he gets to keep living without the voice constantly haunting him. This is admittedly pretty silly logic, but he was in the middle of what is basically a panic attack, so cut him some slack. He tried to use a piece of scrap metal that fell off the robot to remove his arm, which unsurprisingly doesn’t work very well. It only cuts halfway, but sonic can’t really tell that it’s still attached since he’s unbelievably tired, & “it” did shut up after he stabbed his arm open soooooooo. He manages to drive the egg council off to their own dimension before passing out from blood loss, leaving shadow to rush him to tail’s workshop so he can get bandaged up, made harder with shadz new leg getting absolutely trashed. ————————————————————————

that’s all I have done rn, and it’s still in rough draft form, sorry everyone about the delays!

also this:

the last 2 are from later on in the story, just added them for the funzies

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twipsai · 1 month ago

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heyoo! just wanted to say love your rewrite comic of sonic forces!! tis very cool :)

if you don't mind me asking, is anything else going on in this rewrite which you could let us know about? or tis a secret?

ok first of all this ask, the two reblogs you added tags to, and the comment you left literally made me wanna write so much more for this rewrite you have no idea. genuinely such a large motivation burst TYSMMMM

SECOND OF ALL! this rewrite is kind of vague rn, i have an idea for a four or five chapter fic that takes place in the month gap between forces and idw, but (glances at my 2/3rds finished wip thats 32k words rotting in my gdocs) well. im trying to finish something else for the time being, so i have no idea when thats gonna happen

in terms of actually rewriting forces itself, i have quite a few ideas for it but not a lot of concrete things written down -- my main problem with the game, especially after fully playing it (5 hours of my life fucking WASTED), is that it is simultaneously such a serious story, but doesnt take itself seriously in the slightest -- you have, on one hand, Sonic being tortured for six months in a tiny prison cell, but on the other, you have Sonic walking out of there completely fine and it's never acknowledged again. you have, on one hand, two teenagers leading a resistance in a war, but on the other, you have those two teenagers acting bland and uninteresting the entire time. theres so much that could have been done with this story, but instead of grabbing hold of that spark, the writers, instead, decided to write something bland, boring, and worst of all, disingenuous. this is worse than writing something thats bad, in my opinion.

my rewrite takes a lot of notes from my buddy Chip's rewrite called Reinforced (which theyve only really posted about on artfight here), so much so that sometimes i talk about them interchangeably lol, one of the biggest changes in the story is that Tails and Rouge work together. also Infinite is a much bigger threat, specifically to Sonic, and his death is much more intense

this might sound like a deranged thing to say but ive been tossing around in my head what i want Sonic to go through during his time in the death egg, whether i want it to be a white room torture sort of deal, or if i wanna torment him with visions (illusions), so ive sorta been trying to figure out in exactly what way hes fucked up LMAO

additionally, like most other people, im cutting the avatar and Classic Sonic from the script -- theres something to be said about Sonic going through something that fundamentally changes both him and the world, and fighting that threat along side his younger self, but the source material isnt interested in exploring that, so im not either (i actually am, but not in this rewrite,,,, not in this rewrite.) and im cutting the avatar from this in favor of bringing Tails back into the story beyond him being scared and smart for like 10 minutes of the total runtime and then saying "true dat" at the end. i mean cmon!! he watched his big brother presumably die right in front of him! the unbreakable bond, well, broke! thats fucking important! Frontiers and IDW explored this, and i want to as well. its very interesting to me. and he should have been playable. i will die on this hill

also, Sonic doesnt get rescued at the start of the story, it happens wayyy later into the story (right before the climax probably). i hated how they found him practically two seconds after they lost him

a lot of this may be influenced by Sonic Forces Overclocked, which i have plans to play (once i have. free time), since ive heard a lot of good things about it and am very interested in the story it has to tell.

"wheres shadow" idk :( probably brooding in a cave i havent thought that far ahead

#umm i should have a tag for this au bc ill probably post more of it now #sonics torture labyrinth #<for now

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alilbitlesbian · 1 year ago

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YOU UPDATED ANOTHER CHAPTER OF GODDAMNED MONSTER FUCKERS?! I FUCING LOVE THAT FIC.

Screaming crying throwing up thoughts prayers sorrows horrors. I fucking breathe that fic, it's the only one brave enough to keep the couple together /j. Sometimes you wanna fuck the monster and his monsterfucker y'know? Anyways I read on ao3 but I saw your post in the Zelda tag and got excited. It's midnight here sorry if I come off too strong so suddenly, I really love your work and I needed to word vomit my feelingddssss

oh my god dw abb coming off too strong writers LOVE this shit

its me, i'm writers ♥

Is there really no others STILL? i know mine was the first on the market but like, I'm surprised there's no more??? Screaming, crying.

Thank you so much for reading !! I tend to keep all my asks in my inbox so I can look at them forever but this much feral energy makes me so happy and deserves a shoutout.

I'm also SUPER excited for the next few chapters, there's gonna be some cryptid shit and im so excited to write bone-chilling wEiRd HaPpEnInGs around the castle.

I'm also cooking up some oneshots for the joy of more fluff, maybe a ficlet on the molduga attack since I fully forgot that was even a thing lmao.

If you ever have any suggestions/oneshots you want to see then feel free to shoot a dm or an ask, I'm a monster who hoards fics (finished) and WIPS (usually nearly finished) in my google docs so there's a fair chance I've already written it in my.. *checks notes* 73 zelda fics, and am happy to write new stuff all the time (when I can find the time).

anyways thanks for the ask and hope you like the next chapter. It should release soon (It's like 20% done). AlsO TO ANY OTHER READERS: I HAVE A BETA NOW, DONE ARE THE DAYS OF ME EDITING CHAPTERS LIKE 20 TIMES! ITS GONNA BE LIKE 10 TIMES INSTEAD.

thank my new pal Khatjia for being willing to go through my writing ♥

#totk #asks #goddamn monsterfuckers #i love this so much #loz #im going to commit heinous acts

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polaroidpascal · 5 months ago

Text

IM SO HAPPY THIS MADE IT TO A TUMBLR POST BC I WAS LOSING MY MIND READING THIS !!!

( LONG. ASS. REVIEW. UNDER THE CUT BC IM GOING INSANE )

Nodding, throat all of a sudden dry when you stand and he manages to steal a look at your bare legs. Up until then, he’d only seen the oversized grey sweatshirt from the waist up, and then he finds your shorts sitting somewhere along the middle of your thighs—all skin until socks above sneakers. The latter scuffed, overly worn and likely loved. Things he assesses quickly, training coming into use even when home.

oh to have frankie stare at me from across the diner and check me out… a girl can dream

The song begins before he has come up with an answer. Having been too focused, too busy silently working out what flavour your gloss is.

i can’t fully explain why this is driving me insane but it just is.

A light laugh escapes him, shaking his head, scratching at the back of his hair as he sighs. “Only if you pose for it.”

THIS SLY MF— FRANKIE WHEN I CATCH YOU…

That’s when he spots a half-bad sketch of himself. A little heart on his jawline, one of his fingers tracing it on his skin, running over the patch that doesn’t fill in like the rest of his beard, before seeing an arrow with the name Frankie at the end and some dots.

this would scare me SO BAD like DONT LOOK AT THAT but ofc he’s very cute about it and makes me reconsider my stance 🧎‍♀️

“You think you can handle that, Blue?” “What?” Swallowing, dropping his voice as he glances over his shoulder before staring at you. “Being full of me.”

that’s it i’m a goner omfg FRANKIEEEEEE 😫

Your warm, sweet—all plump lips that have the remainder of your gloss. Tacky, he thinks. Smirking the thought to your lips as he cradles your jaw, as he licks into your mouth and earns himself his first moan.

i’m literally a puddle. this callback is so good. and the “earns himself his first moan” made my stomach flip. like it’s his reward for being so intoxicatingly hot… i’m just 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 this part got me SO FUCKING BAD

“You can still change yours though,” He smirks, almost snarling out, “Not a fucking chance.”

this fucking animal omfg i need him so bad

“Answer me then, is this all for me?”

h-hello… HELLO??? 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

“Not so hard, was it?”

ohhhhhhhhh my goddddd… as much as i love and ADORE sub!frankie… WHEN HE’S LIKE THIS I LOSE MY MIND HES SO HOT 😭😭😭

“That’s it, use me, Blue. Take what you want.”

i’m gonna get a noise complaint with all this screaming i'm doing

Nodding, “Had to, Morales.” “Frankie,” he says, urges.

such a small little thing but oh my god, him insisting on being called frankie instead of morales is so… it’s just so hot idk how else to put it. i love this little part.

OKAY LISTEN— idk if this was the intention or not but i imagined him finishing with a delayed groan bc the “making all sounds mute” and then the groan after and something about that little detail… 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 again idk if it was intentional or not but i literally had to sit back for a second and BREATHE 😮‍💨

heartbeat hammering against his in a rhythm that doesn’t match, but could, he supposes.

idk i just love this line so much

i am indescribably excited for this. every kink listed for the chapters is making me 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i’m positively ITCHING for more like my mind is running rampant. i cannot wait for more omfg YOU'VE DONE IT AGAIN 🧎‍♀️

the meeting

francisco "frankie" morales x f!reader | collection masterlist

summary: stumbling into a diner in the dead of the night, frankie morales doesn't expect to find anyone there. then he meets you. what begins as a one-night-stand-turned-weekend becomes a no-strings-attached arrangement.

pairing: pre-tf/delta squad francisco morales x fem!reader (nicknamed blue) rating: smut. 18+ warnings: smut. nickname is given to the reader by frankie: blue. no y/n. no physical descriptions. one-night stand. p in v. blueberry pie... is actually pie. pre-TF. dual POV. wordcount: 4.6k an: originally posted on AO3. i won't be doing a taglist for this series, so i'd recommend bookmarking on there for email notifications.

You only realise the rain is heavier when the bell chimes.

Lifting your head, dragging it away from blurring pages, you quickly spot the thick droplets pounding, hammering their tiny water-based fists against the glass beside you. The battling temperatures continue to do all it can to fog and smear it, making visibility impossible from the inside to the out.

It forces car lights to blur into scarlet reds and soft whites from your place; makes the bright diner sign out in the parking lot—spelt out in neon tubing—to be hidden, slowly swallowed and consumed by the growing storm.

When you'd first arrived, it had only been a small shower. Sometime between your first coffee and now it had shifted into a downpour—the outside rumbling angrily, accompanied by flashes that ripple across full and fuming clouds.

Stretching, raising arms above your head, you glance out from your booth and land on the figure who'd set the bell off.

They're unzipping, haphazardly throwing down the hood, parting their jacket before you see the side profile of their face. You’re transfixed, unable to blink as they rustle the short hair atop their head—the outside they’ve brought in dripping onto the worn welcome mat of the diner.

It’s Doris who hurries to greet—a favourite of yours.

She’s the kind of person who doesn’t judge when you order more coffee when it’s gone midnight or you’ve barely moved to stretch your legs; she doesn’t ask if you’re sure you should eat another slice of pie or question if studying in a busy diner is as effective as the library.

Doris keeps her nose out. And does so in a way that makes you think, that if you needed advice, she’d give it to you. Just like she quickly begins doing (unsolicitedly) to the mysterious, almost midnight visitor.

Y’from outta town? Doris asks, rich in cheer, all sing-song-like and innocent to the point it would trick even a dubious soul that she doesn’t gossip.

You wait for a response, focusing on taking small sips of your coffee. A break from the books, from note taking and soaking information. Not eavesdropping, not at all.

No. Just got in late. Saw the sign, and thought I’m a man who deserves a warm drink.

Smiling, almost smirking, you take a larger mouthful. Lie, your brain says; a charmer, you think immediately after. Taking in the slope of his nose and the way he looks lost, unsure—as though there had been no thought after escaping the night and the storm and stepping inside.

Of all the places in the empty diner for him to sit, he chooses the booth next to yours. Jacket sliding off, folding it, placing it at the end of the booth bench he’s sitting in as he faces you.

He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t glare when he meets your eyes. Just passes you over, acknowledges but not by too much. It’s you who breaks the stare.

Then Elvis begins playing—as he routinely does. Singing about mail and returning to sender as you tap your pencil against the textbook. Dropping your gaze, and doing your best to ignore him.

You’re not sure your best is going to be good enough.

Six minutes and thirty-nine seconds pass, and in that time you take further glances when you think it’s safe to do so.

For one, taking in how he scratches at the back of his head as he attempts to understand the menu. Next, how broad his chest is, and how it forces the thin fabric of his tee to stretch when he pulls out the menu, lays it down and dips his head lower between his shoulders.

By the following chance you afford yourself a glance, his thumb is pressed to his lips as he studies the plastic, two-sided menu, flipping it over with a crack, before doing so again a few moments later. Undecided, troubled—nostrils flaring as he sighs and you try not to glare through your brows.

You blame the fact it’s been a while for why thoughts are sparking.

Practically unable to stop staring at how thick his fingers are, to stop your body from reacting to the width of his thumb. Your thighs press together under the table, mind running away with itself before it’s snapped back to the present when he flips the menu again.

It’s easier to busy yourself by tapping the toe of your sneaker against the metal pole of the table. Discreet, rubber side up, dotting your paper with the pencil as you urge him to order.

Internally pleading him to.

Counting to thirty and then to sixty, before you drop the pencil and rest your cheek on your palm, staring—more bold and unafraid of confrontation than you might have been minutes ago.

“You having a hard time there or something?”

His head snaps up, eyes a little wide. The stare dripping with surprise before he snorts. Before his index and thumb are lifting the menu, tapping the others against the back.

“What do you recommend?”

“You’d take advice from a stranger?”

Shrugging, he dips his chin, but his eyes remain on you. Dark, yet warm��glancing at you as though he wishes to let them up and down your frame. Before he drags them to the empty plates, the ones stacked, ready to be collected.

“No one else for me to ask.”

You smirk, dropping your hand from your face and straightening your spine. “Touché.”

Then, you make him wait. Take as much of him in as you can. Pencil in hand as you trace the eraser end over, and over a graph in your book. Because he’s handsome, good-looking, in a way that’s understated but you know would make you double-take somewhere else.

It’s the eyes, you try to reason.

A unique mix of doe-eyed and sharp.

Exhaling, you tap your pencil louder before saying, “The coffee is good, and so are any of the pies. The pancakes are good, but not when Ernie is on. And Ernie is currently on—they always taste salty? I try not to think why.”

It’s his turn for his lips to slide into his cheek. “Which pie?”

“Huh?”

He points, right to the plates. “Which pie have you been eating?”

For a second, you take him in. Head tilting, back straight, lips rolling together as you try to place him—nostrils flaring as you take a steadying breath. “Blueberry.”

“Alright then.”

To your surprise, he orders you one too.

It sitting, temptingly in a space between notes, postits and your book. Your stomach grumbles in protest, desperate to taste another slice, knowing the importance of fuel and nutrition to ensure that you don’t fall asleep at the table again.

You wait until he sinks his teeth into it. Tuning in for any groan, any evidence of surprise at how good it tastes. You flick your gaze to him, watching, waiting, eventually stabbing your own fork into it before the filling bursts in your mouth, exploding sweetness that’s balanced by a gentle tang—the crust, as always, both crumbly and smooth, all buttery, a treat. Homely. That’s what it reminds you of, home.

A thing, from the look on his face, he feels too.

“Told you.”

It’s a sight to watch him run his tongue across the front of his teeth, fork sliding across the crumbs on his place. “Not bad for a stranger.”

You release a short laugh, one that you try to bury against the cup you bring to your lips.

“I’m Francisco—Frankie.”

He drops his eyes, embarrassment—most likely. Shyness is another option.

Even with no expectation for a trade, you lick your lips and offer him something else. A nickname as he smiles, eyes narrowing. “—not going to just hand you my name, you could be a murderer.”

“I could be.”

“Your nickname doesn’t suit you.”

“Thank you?”

He laughs, low, but light. It’s then he asks if you’re working, to which you share studying. That you find it easier here, less distractions—

“More pie?”

“There’s that too. What about you? Just fancied a break from the storm?”

Sheepish, that’s the word you’d use. The back of his fingers runs along the stubble on his jaw. “I’ve just landed back. Needed… wanted a minute.”

You nod, letting his words simmer as a bolt of lightning catches you in the corner of your eye.

“Guess we’re one step further away from being strangers.”

He hums, and you dip your head, turning the page of your textbook as it becomes the only noise while one song transitions into another.

Frankie tries not to smile when you jump at a clap of thunder.

He hides it behind his coffee and tries to stare out as another bolt sketches itself across the sky. Then, you ask him if he’ll watch your things so you can use the restroom.

Nodding, throat all of a sudden dry when you stand and he manages to steal a look at your bare legs.

Up until then, he’d only seen the oversized grey sweatshirt from the waist up, and then he finds your shorts sitting somewhere along the middle of your thighs—all skin until socks above sneakers. The latter scuffed, overly worn and likely loved. Things he assesses quickly, training coming into use even when home.

What he doesn't spot is a coat or an umbrella.

A thing which ticks in the back of his head as he wonders how long you’ve been here to have racked up the number of plates and the different glass and cupwear. It ticks over, maths whirring when he hears the bathroom door squeal and the sound of you approaching.

Your thank you comes across softly as you lean back into the seat of your booth chair, rolling your neck—and massaging your temple before reaching for something in your bag.

It’s a test, he thinks when you begin to apply gloss. Sliding it over your lips, not glancing up at, as he tries not to even let his eyes wander. To follow.

He fails.

Watching, seeing it glistening, the exposed lighting above the two of you sparkling on them like glitter.

And, he tries to drink his coffee; tries to think of what the next song could be. Whether it will be Elvis again or something else.

The song begins before he has come up with an answer. Having been too focused, too busy silently working out what flavour your gloss is.

Whether it would be tacky against his mouth—

“If you keep staring, Frankie, I’ll think that you want to take a picture.”

A light laugh escapes him, shaking his head, scratching at the back of his hair as he sighs. “Only if you pose for it.”

Your laugh is loud, sweet—gentle on the ears as you pout and roll your eyes. “You’re distracting me.”

Frankie swallows that you’ve been distracting him since he sat down.

By the time it reaches the third hour he’s been here, Frankie finds himself opposite you.

Having relocated, taken some pity on you to help “test” you on something. It had ended quickly when his hands held your notebook and spotted your illustrations along the edges. That’s when he spots a half-bad sketch of himself. A little heart on his jawline, one of his fingers tracing it on his skin, running over the patch that doesn’t fill in like the rest of his beard, before seeing an arrow with the name Frankie at the end and some dots.

“Morales. My surname.”

Grabbing your notebook back, eraser removing the dots, he watches as you write out his name. Immortalise it against the lines pages of your studying. Committing him there, a memory you can keep or erase, the choice entirely yours.

“Now, give it here.”

For a second, you look like you wish to argue, before you surrender, smirking. Pencil placed down as you lick your lips.

Amongst his name, are notes. Swirly handwriting that becomes more chaotic the longer he thinks you’ve sat here. Some circles, some with bubble clouds drawn around them, doodles on doodles—and then there’s your textbook. Post-its and scraps of receipts sticking out from different parts.

“You studying for an exam?”

Nodding, stretching your back in your seat, a little groan emitting.

“How long have you been here?”

Smiling, more telling than wicked—the opposite, he suspects, of what you intend. Your hand reaches for the pot Doris has left, tilting your cup, his eyes spotting its emptiness before your fingers wrap around the handle the black handle on the glass pot.

“Put the coffee pot down, Blue.”

Laughing, the edges of it cutting into your cheeks, “Blue?”

“Better nickname—because at this point, you’re nothing but blueberries and coffee.”

“Oh. Is that right?”

Wrapping his fingers around the handle, smothering over yours, he stares—ignores it, the pulse from your fingers, the warmth. The way his throat dries and he wants nothing more than to slide a palm up your leg to see if it’s as smooth as he thinks it will be.

“What would you say if I said I think I’d rather be full of something else…”

Your words hang, linger.

Lips sliding up into his cheek, feeling your hands loosen from under his. The silence thick. A second away from it all shifting, ruining, mood dampening and changing. So he leans, elbow resting, then forearm—finding some form of confidence buried under the responsibility he usually has to carry.

“You think you can handle that, Blue?”

“What?”

Swallowing, dropping his voice as he glances over his shoulder before staring at you. “Being full of me.”

There's a definitive pause. A glide of your eyes up and down him. Dragging, practically scraping. “Oh, I think I’d like to give it a go, Morales.”

Placing your notebook down, sliding it across the table—tracing his tongue across his teeth. He nods before muttering get your coat.

That’s when you hand him your name, your real name, and he tries it silently before he follows you up out of the booth.

He follows your car—close, not allowing another vehicle to squeeze in between, but not tailgating.

There are barely any blocks, but he doesn’t chance it. Parking behind you, exiting as you do from yours, throwing his bag over his shoulder, as you wait for him outside an apartment building at the end of a small walkway.

Frankie considers the option to turn back.

To consider his choices, to opt out of something that could become complex, awkward. But, he doesn’t. Not when he holds the door open after you’ve let them both in, or when he rides the elevator to the fourth floor, to the fourth door, four-oh-four you whisper as you stick your key in and the lock sounds in the night.

He doesn’t give it another second when the door shuts behind his back, hand grasping, swallowing your gasp when his mouth slides over yours. Bag thumping to the ground, palms wrapping around the sweatshirt as he forces it to cling to your waist when he presses you to him. Your warm, sweet—all plump lips that have the remainder of your gloss.

Tacky, he thinks. Smirking the thought to your lips as he cradles your jaw, as he licks into your mouth and earns himself his first moan.

“Can still change your mind?”

You shake your head, peeling your sweatshirt off—revealing practicality. A little grey sports bra, nothing impressive, nothing you feel embarrassed for. Your nipples are hard, peeking through the fabric as the light from your kitchen paints you in gooey yellow.

“You can change yours though?”

He smirks, almost snarling out, “Not a fucking chance.”

Throwing your sweatshirt, you slide both thumbs under the band that meets your skin and take that over your head. He almost lunges, crashing his mouth to yours, hand cupping one breast as his thumb rolls over it—circling over it. Walking you back aimlessly, unsure of any route, eyes assessing, watching, until he moves you against a wall.

One hand against it for leverage, his other slips down the band of your shorts—passed cotton, it digging into his wrist as two fingers glide through your slick. Feeling your want, your need, able to spread it, smother it over your clit as you whimper, as your arms knot behind his neck and pull his mouth to mould to yours.

“All for me?”

“Shh,” you whisper, grinning, one of his thick fingers sliding from your swollen clit to dip into your pussy. Your hips grinding into him, against his palm, groaning—almost moaning against your mouth at the feel of you. More so when he catches you whisper, “Please.”

“Answer me then, is this all for me?”

Nodding, lips ghosting over his before he slips another finger in. Sliding them in and out, curling. Feeling you tighten around him, clenching.

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“Not so hard, was it?”

His fingers curl, finding that spongy spot that has you whining a completely different noise—has your fingers digging into him, leaving little marks that’ll take hours to fade. He hopes they bruise.

The more he thrusts his fingers, the more you flutter—the more you rut into his hand. The more the noises you emit become strangled, mewls that are wrapped in a moan.

“That’s it, use me, Blue. Take what you want.”

“Fuck, m’gonna… fuck, I’m so—”

Frankie smothers your babbling with his mouth, licks his tongue into your mouth, vanishes them, erases them. Half-about to confess how hot it is that you’re so riled up, all because of him. That you’ve barely invited him in before you’re humping his hand, desperate, aching all for him.

Your fingers tighten around his forearms, hips shuddering, moaning right into his mouth as he feels your slick coat his fingers, his palm. Working you through it until you’re nudging his hand free, pulling it up to your mouth and meeting his eyes.

Then, you’re a fucking sight, a vision. Tongue sliding between his fingers and up and over them, tasting every part of yourself from his hand before his palms clutch your cheeks. Before his mouth is on yours and you’re guiding him to the bedroom, to your made bed of pale shades and decorative cushions.

“Condoms?”

Your hand reaches, shifts awkwardly for the handle, as he swipes at your hand—leaning over, reaching. He spots them, foil in the centre of papers and—

“Fuck, Blue,” he hisses. Looking down, finding his cock in your hand, mouth hovering closer, teasingly, breath fluttering over the leaking tip as you ask you clean and he nods.

Almost set to choke out words when wet warmth envelopes his cock. Cheeks hollowing, doing all you can to take as much of him from this position as he drops his head back, as his fingers grasp at your sheets, as the condom crinkles in his fingers before it scratches, protesting and reminding of its importance.

He’s throbbing in your mouth. Too in awe of the actual fucking sight of you—a person he met four hours ago—who is now a dream come to life.

“Stop, baby,” he groans, hand on cheek, easing him out of your mouth, “Wanna feel you come around me.”

Your eyes narrow in fury as he shifts back, rests back on his knees, eyes unable to tear away from how you lick the small taste of him from your lips, thumb swiping at the spit that had slid around your parted mouth as he rips the foil open.

“Are you sure you want this?”

Lifting up, taking the condom from the wrapper, sliding it down his cock. “Oh, I want you. Wanted you the moment you walked in.” He laughs, watching your hand wrap around his length. “I mean it—I don’t… don’t do this. But, I had to.”

Taking your hand from around him, leaning you back before lifting your leg, he lines himself up—sliding the head of his cock through your folds. Smearing himself in your wetness, coating him, watching you try to style out your little changes in breath.

“Had to?”

Nodding, “Had to, Morales.”

“Frankie,” he says, urges. Slowly pushing himself in, head tipping as he watches how you stretch around him, how perfect you are, how good.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you moan as he bottoms out.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders and your chest arches into him. Your hooked leg tightening, forehead pressing into his neck as he rubs a circle on your back, comforting, aiming for relaxation as your head lifts, as eyes—glassy, lust-blown and filled with want.

“Good girl. S’good for me.”

Then you flutter, loosen a little, grind your hips—

“You like that, Blue?”

“Move, Frankie.”

“Yeah?”

“Please. Please, Frankie—fuck me, fuck me—”

Your words fade, swallowed by a whine as he begins to move. As his hips begin to snap to yours in a rhythm so unrelenting, so desperate. Kissing you between heavy breaths as he lifts you slightly, changes the angle, and swallows a different moan that almost makes him grin as his fingers spread out along your back.

Because fuck you feel good.

A thing he’s sure he groans, says, spills.

Your mouth close to his ear, hands tugging at him, pulling—feeling you everywhere, taking him, all that he’s giving you. As his arm hooks under your leg, spreading you a little more, placing a palm down to the bedsheets as he squeezes the cotton as you tighten around him.

He knows you’re close, can feel it, can see it, a look that he’d seen only in diluted light*,* but now gets a real view of.

And it’s enough to push him over the edge.

“Say my name, baby. Please—”

“Frankie—fuck, m’god, Frankie, right…”

It shifts into a cry, your body tensing as your pussy flutters, tightens—contracting and constricting. Then there’s your nails, the ones clawing at him, scratching. Digging into him in a way he wants you to over, and over, again as he moans.

Because you feel good. Perfect.

His breath fans across your neck and he finds himself so hard, so desperate as he slides in and out, hand grasping at your hip, easing, helping—

“Come for me, Frankie. Need it, need you t—”

“Fuck, m’give it to you.”

It’s dizzying, the way he snaps—gripping your back as liquid pleasure rushes through him, making all sounds mute. Except the ones of his skin slapping against yours—of your whines and breaths as he jolts, as he twitches. Coming hard as a groan rips from his throat. His hips stutter, losing their pace, hearing your whine change as overstimulation layers thickly before he slowly lets himself collapse against you.

A thing, he suspects, you’re eager for. Arms encasing around him, holding him—heartbeat hammering against his in a rhythm that doesn’t match, but could, he supposes.

Then you kiss him.

Drag his mouth to yours, bodies both slick with sweat, glistening, shimmering as your tongue licks a thank you at the back of his teeth and his fingers grasp one of your breasts, sliding a sweat-soaked thumb over your peak as you groan.

He’s not sure of the hour, but he knows it’s morning when he wakes.

The shower’s running. Steam billowing into the bedroom from the ajar door with warm light leaves a line that guides him to you.

A part of him thinks he should leave. Should take the easy option, knowing things—how you feel, how he feels. Hand on your hip between the first and then the second—the time on your clock barely acknowledged as you ask him what he does, where he’s come from.

It rolled from him, the truth. A thing that should frighten him, that he should have held back—

You serve?

Yeah.

Against your sheets, the ones that smell of you and then him and then the two of you, running a hand over his face. Recalling the way you touched his cheek, brushed your palm, staring, before you whispered:

Lemme guess, a pilot?

Eyes widening, hand on your chin as he made you look at him, silently asking, how do’y know, how d’you see me? You kissed him instead of answering.

It's why it would be easy to go—to leave in the mid-morning, disappear, vanish.

But his feet are taking him to the bathroom door, pushing it open with two fingers—the same two that tipped your chin up, made you look him in the eye as you came on his cock—steam greeting him before it clears. Before he sees your back to him, half-covered by droplets and glass until he’s padding across tiles, remembering your words the last time when you’d been shimmering with sweat—

“I can’t do serious, Morales. So if you have a taste of me, don’t fall in love with me.”

He’d snorted, sliding his mouth down your stomach, thighs twitching against his palm as it remembered the other ways he’d already made it shake. “It’ll be you falling when I’ve done with you.”

Your fingers slide the glass open now, that conversation there, hanging like fairy lights that you both ignore as water cascades down your skin—and he steps in, welcomed, lips finding yours as the glass shakes when it slams back into place.

It’s a few more hours until he’s dressing, until he’s drinking a cup of coffee and finding himself having trouble making an excuse to leave.

Because these things aren’t easy, comfortable. Yet this is.

Opening the door, the scent of coffee from the pot you made still filling your place, you let him pass—hovering, lingering.

“Hey?”

Glancing at you, how you’re biting the nail on your thumb, one foot on the other. “Maybe, call me—when you’re next in town? If you want.”

“Thought you didn’t do strings.”

“We can be friends… can’t we? Friends who…”

“Fuck?”

He watches you nod, laughing, before he mumbles friends into the air as he lags. Swallowing. Fingers lightly tapping against his jeans before he rests his arm against the door. “Blue?”

“Hm.”

“What if I said I’m not expected anywhere for two more days.”

Your teeth bite your lower lip, scratching at the back of your head, before that same hand grabs a fistful of his shirt, moving closer, chin tilted up. “I’d say, I think I could handle a bit more of you, Morales. If you want?”

an: a huge thank you to @luxurychristmaspudding for reading this and helping me spot the hilarious typos (you're a real one). to @pedgito for holding my hand so tight since i said "i think i want to do a kink list" and then spinning a wheel which unveils the kinks in the next few pieces. i'd be lost.

#frankie morales save me #if he turns out to be a switch in this series it might kill me #i need him so bad #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #triple frontier

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quaranmine · 2 years ago

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alright, stats time. numbers! percentages! analysis!

GO ME! i finished my writing challenge last night. though i have done them before, i have never had a 30 day streak--my longest was 11 days, previously.

NANOWRIMO "GOAL": 50k words in a month. lol nope i didn't even plan to do that but that's the perspective i'm putting the post in

MY GOAL: add 30k to IBW.

fail. i added 5.2k to IBW in the end, the equivalent of finishing just one chapter. basically, I completed 17% of my goal. not something I'm happy about but i did inevitably mostly get past a thing that was giving me trouble.

MY SECOND GOAL: add 30k aggregated to any projects

total word count: 21,366. that's techinically a fail but i'm not gonna count it because i reached 70% of my target wordcount AND THAT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!!! 70 is a passing grade afterall :] if we want to put this in perspective of nano, i basically completed 40% of nano, which is great for a first-ever run (especially since i have never completed a 50k fic so far, let alone in a month. baby steps for me, i just do not write that quickly.)

MY THIRD GOAL: write something every day

SUCCESS! i did do that and i am very proud of it. it was shockingly hard sometimes. during the challenge i was like "i am never doing this again" and now literally less than a day after im like "hm i should do this again next year!" why am i like this? who knows!

So, let's look at other stats.

Number of fics worked on: four. (IBW, grumbot fic mainly, hitchhiker's au, and tumble town gothic)

Fanfic started and completed within the month: do you see no ghosts in me at all? (13,651 words). This means that ~64% of my time was spent on this fanfic, compared to any others (if we go by word count, as i don't remember which days specifically were used on this versus the others)

Average daily wordcount: 712 words. again, to reach the 30k goal i needed roughly 1k on average per day, so this is again about 70% of that. It is worth noting that my average for my last writing challenge in the spring was 548, so I did much better on average this month despite being forced to do it in a much longer streak. that's probably because the 0 wordcount days in the last challenge dragged the average down, so writing every day helped me a lot.

Lowest daily WC: 131

Highest daily WC: 1897

i think both of those were the same fic actually (grumbot fic.) the low wordcounts mostly represented lack of time, as i would stop writing whenever it got so late that i started falling asleep midsentence. however low wordcounts on IBW mostly represent lack of inspiration, except for the day 30, where it represented research.

all in all, i think it was a successful challenge. i'm still in writing mode and was already thinking about what i could do tonight, which is great because like...i am no longer beholden to this challenge but am still wanting to keep going (i'll just likely not force myself to do anything anymore if it's like 11:30pm and i havent done anything. i will just go to bed instead.)

the main lesson here is that i can Do Things when i want to really force myself to do, which is good because i often doubt my own abilities especially in connection with my writing. it's very personal compared to other stuff i do, so i very much love and appreciate everybody's support and kind reviews because i straight up would not be here or doing any of this without you. like i would have just gone back to hide under a rock lol.

i feel like completing these challenges gives me a lot more confidence in myself and my abilities, and gives me momentum to make consistent progress on my works even when things are a little rough. sometimes in writing you just Gotta Do It even if there isnt much inspiration, because it'll unlock the way for other scenes where you DO have inspiration.

now then. if someone can tell me why i was able to fully complete inktober for two years in a row, and pull off two of these writing challenges in one year, but CAN'T stick with actual responsible adult habits--

#long post #quara writing challenge

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colorisbyshe · 2 years ago

Note

I don't really watch anime but you have really similar taste to me in everything else so I'm wondering whether to watch naruto bc of ur blog lol

This is............... a complicated thing to answer.

Naruto is not good.

The world building starts off intriguing but falls flat on its face as you realize how fucking... insular the story is (the country/village Naruto belongs in was founded literally 2-3 generations ago, like the leader who takes over when Naruto is 13 is the grand daughter of the founder).

The morality of the story is fucking all over the place and it is EXTREMELY frustrating how much potential early Naruto's messaging has (confronting the shortfalls of founding an economy/nationstate on war, impacts of trauma, manipulation of youth, even on fighting destiny) and how much it goes exactly waht it originally set out to say.

The story gets sidelined and it spends like... 100+ chapters on a war you do not care about and has little to do with like... the actual OG story. Like... it becomes about an alien/goddess thing who was like... not at all foreshadowed. Lots of retcons happen mid story to change character dyanmics and motivations and it's clear quite a few of them were not planned.

I can't even say the charactrs are particularly good. I love Sasuke but he disappears for dozens of chapters at a time and he's not allowed to ever fully live up to his potential. Naruto's character development is killed like... early on. Women are not allowed to be half as complex as their peers. Interesting side characters are either killed off or live in another village so you barely ever see them or their lore is given in crumbs so you're never fully satisfied.

I don't think anything abotu Naruto is that unique (especially if you've read/watched any of Togashi's work like YYH/HXH but also any shounen).

But also... here I am............ 15 years later....... more than 15 years later....... still low to high key obsessed.

A lot of it is Sasuke and Naruto's arc, which is... probably less than 20% of the total series... but like... if a ship is enough to make me deal with everything else, it's gotta be pretty fucking good.

But then... part of me is like "If you didn't get into Naruto as a kid as it was coming out, don't bother, you have to be mentally bonded and shaped by the series tto enjoy it" but idk... I know people who have read it in their 20s, post completion, and got into it.

I'm the wrong person to ask because I hate that I love it. But... I've hated to love lots of things before and I dropped them all. I'm like... the queen of turning on previous passions. And Im still here.

THAT SAID... I never finished *watching* Naruto. It had too much filler (though, if you're insane and this made you want to watch it, google Naruto Kai, it cuts out the filler and flashbacks). I read the manga. I read the first ~500 chapters at least 5 times and the last 200 chapters... once (with an exception of a few chapters I mined for sasunaru content).

TO PUT IT CONCISELY:

Naruto sucks. I can't ever abandon it, it's too good. Do it for Sasunaru. Don't do it for your mental health. The anime is too fucking long, I can give you the tools to make watching it shorter. Don't watch it. Join us. Don't you wanna know wtf I'm blubbering about? Save yourself. Watch Star Trek instead for Spirk if you're just gonna watch shit for god tier soul mate (but still a choice! it's not destiny, it's a CHOICE, we were made for each other but choose everything else until we realize that everything else HURTS) content.

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cosplayprincess21 · 2 years ago

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I posted 471 times in 2022

140 posts created (30%)

331 posts reblogged (70%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@acilykos-art

@disasterpersonified

@im-surviving-off-of-tea11

@the-ancient-ocean

@headphonemouse

I tagged 226 of my posts in 2022

#dr stone - 176 posts

#dcst - 168 posts

#dr. stone - 151 posts

#drst - 127 posts

#gen asagiri - 72 posts

#asagiri gen - 72 posts

#ryusui nanami - 59 posts

#senku ishigami - 54 posts

#kohaku - 51 posts

#nanami ryusui - 42 posts

Longest Tag: 114 characters

#seriously ive rewatched dr.stone. how i met your mother. the originals and moriarty the patriot multiple times now

My Top Posts in 2022:

Senku hcs

Oh this shall be fun

Realizes he's aromantic asexual in middle school. Everyone else was going on about romance and dating and all that other stuff, and all he cared about was science.

Was the one lecturing people in elementary school about why certain super powers can't be real and crushed the hopes and dreams of those wanting lazer vision

Would secretly leave Taiju money or other things he needed but pretended he had no idea where they came from

Since hes the definition of aroace, his gaydar is never wrong

Tried to figure out if he could turn himself into a robot as a kid, it did not work

Speaking of robots, he had robot pj's up until he was 11 in which he traded them for science ones

His experiments would make stay up late into the night, so naturally, he developed a taste for energy drinks.

At night he will sometimes think of Byakuya and remember all the memories he has with his dad, he might try to act like the man was embarrassing and all, but deep down hes a kid who never got to say goodbye to his dad

The only two people he can fully confide in are Taiju and Yuzuirha

While its common for kids who are adopted to want to know about their biological parents, he doesnt. He had Byakuya after all, and Byakuya is his dad, nothing else matters.

Hope you like them. Senku is a very fun character to make headcanons for.

45 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

no one in Dr.STONE is an autistic retard so why do you plan to make a post about it? just cause you're retarded doesnt mean they are

congrats you got me to use Tumblr Desktop instead of my phone because im going to have a lot to say.

First of all, fuck off with the R word here, its an outdated and harmful term thats rooted in Ableism. Secondly i was going to ignore this and delete it when i saw the first line but then you also decided to insult me so you know enjoy getting your ass handed to you.

But whats wrong with noticing that certain characters in Dr.STONE are ASD coded? Like everyone accepts that Ryusui has ADHD but being autistic is something bad right? News Flash it isnt. Also show me where in the manga that Sai and Yuzuriha dont show traits of autism? i feel explaining to you would be a waste of energy but just know this is only going to make my post on it even longer cause holy fuck the beginning will now have a rant about people like you. Do me a favor and never send an ask here again and kindly fuck off.

Also this comment really pissed me off and i was going to focus on just Sai and Yuzuriha but now im gonna add Magma,Senku and Ruri to this as well cause ive also been seeing them as ASD coded but have been keeping that to myself.

47 notes - Posted August 13, 2022

so i finished fmab

sobbing crying wailing etc it was SO GOOD and completely destroyed me at the same time fhjfjkfjhfkjhsahjsdjhfkjdjghdkjsk definitely the anime of all time

welcome to the world of FMAB. The obsession will never leave, and the pain gets worse with every rewatch. But with that also comes seeing little things you never noticed before which makes the series even better.

47 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

Ok so ill be posting about the final chapter soon but. IM SO HAPPY SENKU DIDNT GET ANY LOVE INTERESTS. HES AROACE AND STAYS AROACE HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

54 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ok but i really need to know what people have against aroace characters? Like theres nothing wrong with any character being aroace but for some reason it just causes others to be so upset and for what? Ive seen it with mostly One Piece and The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. Luckily havent seen it as much with Dr.STONE or at least on tumblr. The number of people ive blocked on tiktok for getting upset about Senku being CANONICALLY aroace is ridiculous. But yeah can someone just explain this to me? Cause aroace exist and we do deserve to have our representation in media and not in the "oh im rude because im aroace and thats my only personality" way. But in a way where we ardnt dehumanized for not feeling romantic or sexual attraction.

331 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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theresa-of-liechtenstein · 3 years ago

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@lavstar i was so incredibly stupid and i deleted your ask while i was drafting it… i swear i didn’t forget to do it 😭 anyway i’ve FINALLY finished it so let’s jump into the compilation of the most planes i have ever brainrot ❤️ because no ❤️ you cannot expect me to pick one ❤️ it is impossible ❤️

two airbus A320s taking off from parallel runways, five nautical miles apart ‘cause they’re not gay!

btw i genuinely do not care about military aircraft (never have, prob never will) so these are all to do with civil aviation. also huge disclaimer i did all the commentary off the top of my head (i did have to wikipedia some of the stats im not martin fucking crieff) so if i mess up a term or something that’s on me

of course no post about my favorite planes cannot leave out the OG. my first love, the most plane i have ever ridden; the one, the only, the increasingly irrelevant due to industry shifts, the beloved Airbus A380.

(L) just look at this big beautiful girl! + (R) a view of i believe scotland? as approached from the north

i don’t know why i love this plane so much, because lots of other people certainly don’t for a lot of reasons. her size makes her the main character out of necessity at every airport she comes across, and she’s an inconvenience for air traffic controllers for that reason. her origin story is [twitter stan account voice] a bit problematic. given changes in industry trends, she is also quickly becoming irrelevant. airbus my beloved please just admit that the four engines thing was nostalgia and go. she’s a marvel of engineering sure, but when all is said and done…the B747 came, she served cunt, and then she got phased out. the A380 was made with the intention of doing the same…unfortunately, she didn’t really complete the second step.

wait holy shit. i know why i love this plane so much. it’s because this plane…is me ❤️

—

and now for thee og in terms of famous big-ass planes that everyone loves: the B747. everyone loves the 747. even if they say they’re not into planes, they are. for me, not gonna lie: a very big reason for why i love the Queen of the Skies so much is mark vanhoenacker’s book, skyfaring. he flew the 747 for bri’ish airways (when they still had them) and loved that plane so much and man who am i to blame him.

(L) i think i teared up when i saw her through the big windows for the first time bc i was like oh my god. i am going to be on her. this icon of aviation, the arguable symbol of commercial aviation. so much history, so much significance… + (R) the past, the present, and the future of british airways in one image 🥺

i was on a 747 twice in my life. once on a cathay pacific flight to the philippines, and on my last flight abroad, on a british airways flight to heathrow. little did i know i was flying one of the last of their 747 flights—they phased them out completely the following year, a bit earlier than anticipated due to the pandemic.

as enzo ferrari once probably said, “ask a child to draw a plane, and certainly he will put a hump and four engines on it.” in terms of sheer iconic power and energy, the Queen (and she is the only earthly being to whom I shall ever refer as such) would far and away be the top on anyone’s list, save for the fact that i don’t have a top to this list and i have other planes to get to dear god this is getting long do you know what you’ve got yourself into!! the Queen really said “flight belongs to the people now” and the airlines just had to shut up and listen!! she is truly the main character!!!

genuinely don’t remember what river this is except that it’s in the UK… 🙈

i feel like everything else i say about her is just going to be a pale imitation of how evocative skyfaring was, so honestly i really recommend the book it’s so good and it’s one of my favorites. my copy is sort of falling apart now bc i kept bringing it around to places 😭 anyway, the number of airlines using her for passengers is decreasing, but you know who still use converted versions of her as well as purpose-built models? cargo airlines! anyway, ups and their brown planes my beloved 🤎

—

this slot was going to go to the B767 and 757, and i was going to rhapsodize about how aesthetically the 767 looks like a nicer plane to me because of Chonk, but the 757 is really endearing because it’s a narrowbody jet and it’s got landing gear that is long in a useful but unusual-looking way, which in essence what i’m trying to say is that if the 757 were a person, it would be esteban ocon.

so i was getting ready to write all of this down in much more words than i needed, but i remembered suddenly the very reason i was making this post in the first place. and that, my friends, is the B777.

honestly you don’t fully understand how big the 777 is until you see it in person. because we are all acclimated to think of like the 747 when we think of ‘big plane.’ but the 777 is massive. even i forgot about it when i wrote That Fanfic.

the 777 and 787 are the future of long-haul commercial aviation (and i say this as an A380 stannie). widebody jets with 2 big-ass engines are most likely what we’re going to see in the sky going forward when it comes to long-distance travel, and the pandemic pretty much confirmed that.

that aside, i love the 777. so much that i wrote a whole fanfic around one making an emergency landing ❤️ i really pretended ETOPS (the thing where a plane can fly for a long time on one engine) did not exist for six chapters and an alternate ending and i think that’s just very quirky of me aha 🤪

dear god do not mind my hat i literally bought it because of fred fucking thursday of endeavour… what the FUCK was teenage me on 😭

the 777 was supposed to be a trijet (one with three engines, two under each wing and one built into the vertical stabilizer) but as the mcdonnell douglas and lockheed martin trijets (cba to look up the numbers) were not projected to continue to be successful, they got rid of the trijet 777 idea and instead made it have two engines. another thing i think is neat is that all the examples of the 777 that you will see in the wild right now don’t have winglets bc the wings themselves are so long and raked back that they’re not necessary. which would be a weird thing for me in particular to find neat, because if you know me well you know i have a thing for winglets. (the 2022 f1 car’s front wing my BELOVED WAKSKDKSJSJ!!!!!) i also think the way the wingtip lights are incorporated into the wings are so neat. the upgraded version they’re trying to make now, the 777X, will have foldy wingtips so you can DIY your own winglets and i think that’s hilarious (and also cool).

—

genuinely i think i’m the only plane person that likes this last aircraft: the Embraer ERJ-175. i like her for purely nostalgic reasons. she reminds me of how i returned to my roots and decided to pursue engineering.

so okay this is going to have nothing to do with the plane, but i was lucky enough to be given a visit to the flightdeck after landing back home from a weekend trip. i was so excited to be allowed to sit in the first officer’s seat, and got to poke around the flightdeck for like ten minutes. which was cool, but all this was with the sinking realization that even operating a regional jet might be too physically demanding (read: unsafe) for someone of my… [exhales knowing EXACTLY what i’m about to walk into] height.

that is one fully glass cockpit. also those yokes are specific to embraer, boeing’s look more like f1 steering wheels with stuff cut out of them i think, and airbus’s are operated by side stick. it’s almost funny especially when watching flightdeck videos of the a380 cause it’s like… you’re doing All That *gestures vaguely at plane* with THAT *gestures at thing that looks like a chicken drumstick with semiconductors implanted in it*

so that was piloting as a career done with for me (much to my family’s relief.) and then i thought “hm i don’t have to be flying planes all the time to be working around them…why don’t i work on developing them instead?” and i was passively interested in matsci already, so that’s how and when i decided to pursue engineering, with hopes of working for airbus or boeing and in civil aviation.

we’ll see how that pans out, i say as i side-eye the exponential growth of my interest in motorsport.

thanks for the ask! i’m so sorry i was stupid and deleted it but i hope you like this very long, drawn out, and frankly deranged response 💚

#em speaks #lavstar #this is half me showing off my plane pictures half deranged rant i hope you enjoy

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shewritestheblues · 4 years ago

Text

The Elevator Bae x Chapter 4

Chapter FOUR

Erik x Black OC (Phoenix)

---------------------

Reruns of Martin plays in the tv as Phoenix whips up her pancake batter. She has turkey bacon and hash browns done on the stove. A knock on the door turns into a beat brin made on the door.

Ava!

Phoenix swings the door open to find Ava and Mica holding up orange juice and liquor.

“What’s brunch without liquor?” Mica says walking in. She immediately looks through the cabinets for a pitcher and begins missing up mimosas. Ava sits on a stool at the kitchen counter while Phoenix starts making the pancakes.

“Let’s just get straight to it, what’s up with Erik?” Ava asks.

Mica pours their drinks. “Who is Erik?”

“A nigga that she want.”

Mica eyes Phoenix for her to explain. She tries to focus on the task at hand of flipping her pancakes.

“Ma’am, get to talking.”

“He lives here. I met him on the elevator. We’ve run into each other from time to time.”

Ava slams her hand on the counter. “Mica, she’s fucking with us. Coby said they be having moments on the elevator, flirting and shit. But come to find out, he’s messing with Sydney--”

“BIG BOOTY SYDNEY?”

“He’s not messing with her.”

Ava’s head snaps over to her. “How you know?”

Phoenix bites her lip as she makes their plates. “He told me.”

“When he say this?”

“Wait, wait,” Mica intervens, “How y’all know he was allegedly messing with Syd?”

Ava has a mouth full of bacon at this point just spilling the little beans that she has. “We seen her in the garage and she was all asking Philly about if she seen the nigga because he left her place like a theif in the night and never called her back.”

“Damn! This nigga a savage and you like him?” Mica turns to Phoenix with concern.

“That is not what she said, Mica. But, he told me last night, this morning, whatever… that she’s cool but he ain’t feeling her in that way.”

“Let me guess, on the elevator?” Ava sticks her tongue out teasing Phoenix. Phoenix gives her the middle finger. Mica swats her hand, “Focus. What exactly did he say?”

“Well… he mentioned having his eye on someone else,” Mica and Ava share a look as Phoenix continued. “And I told him he should tell Sydney he doesn’t like her.”

“...that’s it?” Mica says stuffing hash browns in her mouth.

“No, he-- well, I told him he looks tired and get some rest when I was getting off the elevator. Then he says, “Goodnight baby girl.” and winks at me all flirty and shit.”

“Oh girl, niggas love throwing in a baby girl,” Mica says refilling her glass. “I wouldn’t think nothing of that.”

Phoenix looks to Ava for her input.

“Honestly Philly, I don’t know. Because yeah, niggas just be talking but at the same time, we dont know who this man is. For all we know, you could be making all this shit up.”

“Why would I make this up?”

“No, no I’m not saying you are at all. My point is, only you can judge the vibe between y’all because we don’t know who he is.”

“What he look like?” Mica says with a mouth full of pancakes.

“He’s tall, brown, nice teeth, dreads.”

“Oh, so he’s a daddy. Yeah, you can’t trust those.”

Ava almost spit out her drink from laughing.

-------

The gold chain with a ring hanging from it that sits around Erik’s neck, swings back and forth as he does his last few push ups. He sits up on his floor, rolling his neck and stretching it. His phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him.

Text: Sydney

He swipes to close it without reading it. He gets up and goes into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He steps out of his sweaty clothes and steps in. The warmth of the water stings the new small scar on his abdomen. Biting his lip until the slight pain fades away. Allowing the water to run over his body, he closes his eyes releasing a long sigh.

After washing his body and face, he puts on fresh clothes and relaxes on his huge sectional couch. It’s been a long week for Erik and a day of just chilling is exactly what he needed and wanted. He searched through Netflix with nothing really catching his eye. So he picked up his phone, opening Sydney’s text. It was the 4th text she had sent him since he left her place a few nights ago.

Sydney: E, What’s up?

Sydney: So you’re not going to text me back?

Sydney: Are you okay?

Sydney: so you’re just gonna go ghost. Most niggas wait until after they hit. At this point, I dont even care.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard. Phoenix’s words singing in his ear, I think you should tell her. Communication is key.

She was right, just letting her know he’s not into to her like that is the right thing to do. But, he definitely took the part about communication being about him being more open about liking her instead. He finally types a response.

Erik: Hey. my bad, i’ve been busy. working.

Sydney: you have some free time now? You just left and i wanted to see you.

Erik: Im free but i dont really wanna chill. I like you Syd, but as a friend.

Sydney: wow. Ok

With that out the way, Erik opened his Instagram app, scrolling up his timeline. He comes across a picture that his friend, Shawn posted. Shawn went out to the opening of Club X the night before. He was one of the promoters. As Erik swipes through Shawn’s pics, he notices one that he’s in with four women. One of them being Phoenix. The caption says ‘ClubX now open. Come get lit with the dopest DJ in the city.’ Erik taps the photo to reveal the tags. @DJPhoenixBlue , @AmazingAva , @Micaxoxo , @CamrenMarie. Did he just find Phoenix’s IG page? Without a second thought, he clicks her page and yes… yes he did find elevator bae’s page. He carefully looked and admired every picture. He found himself looking at a pic from June 2016 when Phoenix was back in Detroit, walking through downtown with one of her old friends. That’s when he knew he was doing the most. He scrolled back to the top of her page, reading her bio. He clicks the soundcloud link that’s attached and takes a listen. He nods his head to the R&B beat. It was definitely a vibe. He let her playlist play. He laid his head back onto the couch, closing his eyes. He was on the 5th beat before he sat up to sounds of his stomach rumbling.

“Shit.” He goes into the kitchen, Phoenix’s music still playing. There wasn’t much left in his refrigerator with him being gone for days. He turns the music off to focus on searching through his various food apps to order something. He found himself back on Phoenix’s Instagram page. He leans back on his kitchen counter, completing forgetting about food. He debates with himself if he should follow her. He stood there with his thumb hanging over the follow button. “Fuck it.” he thinks. He taps follow. He came this far, he might as well like a few pics.

He orders from a cafe he likes that’s not too far from his home. It’ll be there in 20 minutes. He finds his way back into the living room, on the couch. He settles with rewatching Naruto. Only made sense because it was his favorite.

---------

Mica helps Phoenix load up the dirty dishes into her dishwasher as Ava rolls them a blunt. Phoenix gave more than enough detail about every encounter she has had with Erik since meeting him. She even told them about the dream she had about him. Mica doesn’t seem to like the idea of Erik while Ava tried to convince Phoenix to shoot her shot with him. Phoenix figured it wouldn’t hurt to ‘think about it.’

After finishing their breakfast and cleaning up, the women are sitting out on Phoenix’s balcony, smoking and trying to make plans for Camren. Her birthday was the weekend coming up and Camren made it clear that she wanted to do Hoodrat things with her friends. That was her only request. They already have a surprise girls trip that they planned months ago, but the three of them would make her ratchet dreams come true.

“Let’s do a surprise dinner and take her ass to the club,” Phoenix says, passing the blunt to Mica. “I can get us a section.”

“Yeahhhh, get some big ass pictures of her face and bottles.” Ava added.

“That would make her so happy.” Mica says between coughs and laughs.

They finalize their plans for the weekend. They are taking Camren out to eat, the club and will surprise her with their planned vacation when she wakes up the next morning with a hangover, contemplating life. Ava and Mica say their goodbyes to Phoenix and leave out to wait for the elevator. When the doors open, they come face to face with Erik. He’s alone in the cabin. He recognizes them immediately as the girls in the pictures with Phoenix and Shawn. He moves over to the left of the cabin. Mica stands center and Ava to the right. Silence sits over the three of them. Erik could feel that one of them is staring fire into the side of his face. When he turns to them, Mica is giving him the worst death stare he’s experienced in his life. They stare at each other.

“Is your name Erik?”

“Yeah. Do I know you?

Ava’s head snaps quickly in his direction. She hadn’t even thought about who the man was in the cabin with them. Mica remembered every detail Phoenix gave about what Erik looked like. He’s tall, brown, nice teeth, dreads.

“Nah, you don’t know me,” Mica says, turning to fully face him. “But what you do need to know is when it comes to Philly, I’ll kick yo’ ass, you pretty muthafucker.”

Erik is confused and caught off guard. Who in the hell is this woman. Is Philly, Phoenix? He really didn’t know how to respond to this threat. Ava pinches the bridge of her nose. She can’t take Mica, NOWHERE!

“Who the fuck is Philly?”

“Oh my God,” Ava intervenes, “You have to excuse her. She’s high as fuck.” Ava grabs Mica’s arm and pulled her to the right side of the cabin, away from Erik. “We’re friends of Phoenix, nice to meet you.”

Erik eyes Mica who seems uninterested in him. “Nice to meet y’all too… I think.”

The elevator doors open and Ava steps out, dragging Mica with her. Watching the two of them made Erik laugh. As he made his way to his car, it hit him what Mica and Ava said. She talked to her friends about him? What in the hell did she say for her friends to be so protective? Either way, he couldn’t stop the redness from forming on his cheeks.

Once Ava and Mica were in Ava’s car, without skipping a beat, Mica facetimes Phoenix. “Sis. We just seen your pretty ass man on the elevator.”

“What?”

“What?” Mica says in a mocking tone. “You love playing stupid. Ya’ boy Erik. I had to let him know he better be on some real shit when it comes to you.”

“MICA!” Phoenix covers her face with her free hand.

“You’re welcome. And he is fine though. I see why you pressed but I still don’t trust his ass.”

-------

The next morning, Phoenix started her day with some morning yoga. She had a few errands to run before a studio session later that night. She needed to go to the bank, do a little grocery shopping and reup on some hair products. She had used the last of her Miss Jessie’s curl cream the night of the club opening. Her hair has been in that same bun since. Putting on some dark denim shorts and a red one shoulder crop top, paired with some red vans, she headed out.

Luckily, when Phoenix arrived at the bank, her favorite banker, Ms. Kim was there. Whenever she’d have to go to the bank, she loved going to her to handle her money. Ms. Kim was an older, black woman that gave her all of the cool, auntie vibes. Ms. Kim was the one who helped Phoenix set up a seperate account for her business account and tax account. She honestly made everything easier.

“Good Afternoon, Miss Phoenix,” Ms. Kim stands, greeting Phoenix has she approached her desk.

“Hi, Ms. Kim.”

Ms. Kim motions for Phoenix to take a seat.

“How have you been little lady? Busy I take it since it’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen you in here.”

Phoenix smiles, “Yeah, I’ve been working like crazy.”

“That’s good. At least you’re busy doing something you love though, right?

“Yes. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, honestly.”

“I’m glad. Now what can I help you with today?”

Phoenix digs into her purse, pulling out two checks. “I want to deposit these and send a little something to my Mom. She’s been bugging me about a purse.” She shakes her head. Ms. Kim laughs and takes the checks and does her magic. She knows just how Phoenix wanted to break up the checks into each of her accounts, which is why Phoenix loved her so much. She never had to ask too many questions. She just knew what to do.

------

Phoenix made her way to the farmers market, getting as much food as she could fit into her basket. She always did this, knowing the struggles of carrying all of the tote bags up to her apartment. But without fail, she did this to herself, every time. Loading her groceries into her car, she heads home. She didn’t have much on her mind but she wasn’t fully there as she pulls into the parking garage of her apartment. She parks her car and starts grabbing her bags from her trunk when one falls and she smashes her carton of eggs. She pouts, pissed off with herself about dropping the bag.

“You have to be kidding me!” She stands there, holding her face trying not to be too upset about it.

“You need some help?” Phoenix turns to find Erik walking in her direction, his keys in hand. She was a bit frozen when she saw him. He was wearing a fitted white shirt with grey joggers and his dreads were braided back. She just stood there, staring at him until his laugh shook her from her trance. He loved how his presence would stall her.

“Umm, no. I’m okay. I don’t wanna hold you up.” She picks up the bag that fell and tries to grab more bags from the trunk. Erik didn’t say anything, he just reached for the bags in her hands, taking them from her.

“Erik…” she tries to protest.

“Girl, grab the rest of the bags and c’mon. I’m not in a rush.”

She was lowkey shocked but did what he said. She grabbed the rest of the bags and closed her trunk, locking her doors. He stood, holding the majority of her groceries so she hit the call button.

“You really didn’t have to--”

“I wanted to. If I’m right here, you don’t need to be carrying all of this up alone.”

“Thank You.” she says in a low tone.

The elevator doors open and they step inside headed up to Floor 7. Phoenix tried to avoid looking at Erik. One, he was looking damn good right now and two, she never knew how she’d react to him.

“You look beautiful today. I like the whole messy bun flow you got going on.” he finally says.

“OH SHIT! I'm sorry, Thank you. You just reminded me that I forgot to pick up some stuff for my hair.”

“What do you use on your hair?”

“Um this Miss Jessie’s curl cream and this Shea Moisture leave in. I completely forgot and I’m all out of both.”

The elevator doors open and Erik follows her to her door. Taking note of the ‘702’ on her door. She pushes the heavy door open and holds it open for him. He follows her into the kitchen, placing the many bags on the counter. Phoenix struggles to get her hand out of the handle of one of the bags, not realizing she’s still holding her keys. Her phone starts ringing in her back pocket. She’s panicking trying to get her hand free and getting her phone. Watching her struggle was a good time for Erik. He walked up to her, taking her keys from her hand and taking the bag from her wrist. His hands were rough and warm and it caught her off guard… as usual.

“Thanks.” She answers her phone just in time. It’s another engineer that she was suppose to have the studio session with. He called to tell her that the artist they were supposed to work with, cancelled so it wasn't a point in going tonight. She was disappointed. She hated when people would cancel last minute being that the studio was her happy place.

The disappointment she felt was all over her face as she hung up the phone.

“Everything okay?” Erik asked. For a moment, she forgot that he was there.

“Yeah, the artist I was suppose to have a studio session with cancelled on me.”

“Oh yeah, you’re a DJ.”

She never told him that. How would he know that? “Yeah… I’m just gonna go by myself though. I have some stuff that I need to get done.”

Erik sways back and forth, debating on if he should ask. Phoenix starts putting away her groceries. She assumed Erik would just leave at that point but he continued to stand there with his hands in his pocket. She stops what she’s doing and eyes him suspiciously.

“This is weird, but would you mind if I tagged along with you? To the studio.”

She was NOT expecting that. Suddenly Ava’s words rang in her ear. Shoot your shot. The thought of that made her nervous but she stopped the nerves in their tracks. What’s the worst that could happen? He wouldn’t ask if he wasn’t interested, right?

“Uh, yeah sure… wait, weren’t you going somewhere before you helped me with my bags?”

Erik leans over onto her counter, rubbing his hands together. “Yeah, but it wasn’t important. Just chilling with some homies.”

“So you’re just gonna bail on your friends to hang out with me? You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t really know me but I’m all up in ya’ kitchen right now.”

He had a point. She just shook her head and finishes putting away her groceries. He watched her every move. It’s still pretty early so Phoenix still has time to go out and get her hair products before heading to the studio.

“Well everything’s put away. I’m gonna go get my hair stuff. You can just meet me in the garage around 8. Is that cool?”

Eriks stands up straight, “Yeah.”

She smiles and grabs her purse, walking to the door. Erik follows. He waits for her by the elevators as she locks her door. When the elevators opens for them, Mya steps off.

“Hey Phoenix.”

“Hey, Mya.” she waves at her. Mya looks at Erik and then back to Phoenix, mouthing to her, “YAS SIS!” Phoenix laughs. Erik is going up to his place to wait for her so she says bye to him and watches him step in and the doors close. She patiently waits for the cabin to come back down to take her down to the parking garage. Making it to the beauty supply, she buys way more than she needed. Getting some new Mane Choice shampoo, a long, curly ponytail (because you never know when you’ll need one), the curl creams she came for and some hair accessories. She could never control herself in the beauty supply store. It was like a candy store for black girls.

She made her way back home and couldn’t resist washing her hair to try her new products and honestly, she couldn’t wait to retire that messy bun.

------

Erik waits in the parking garage for Phoenix. Checking his phone, it’s now 8:12pm. He’s not usually a patient man but he would wait for as long as he needed for her. Finally a ding from the elevators alerts him that someone is getting off. Phoenix steps out with fresh curls that are still partially wet. She had changed into some black joggers and a Snoop Dogg T-Shirt with her backpack hanging on one arm.

“I’m sorry. I really had to wash my hair.”

He smiles at her. “It’s not a problem, baby girl.”

There’s that name again. She stares at him. “Uh, yeah. You ready?”

“Lead the way.”

He follows her to her car. He steps around her, opening her door for her. She smiles a thank you and he walks around, getting into the passenger seat. She holds up the Aux cord.

“This is my only offer. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“You’re the DJ. Let me hear what you like to listen to.”

Phoenix proceeds to plug in her phone and put her playlist on shuffle. Megan thee Stallion x Cash Shit comes on blasting through the speakers as Phoenix pulls out onto the road. She raps along.

Yeah, I’m in my bag // but I’m in his too.

That’s why every time you see me // I got some new shows. AH!

Erik enjoys the show of Phoenix rapping along to every song that comes on. He even joins in when Dreamville x Got Me comes on.

I got you long as you got me // And I got you long as you got me

----

Walking into the studio building, Phoenix greets the security guy at the front desk. This is her favorite studio to work in so she knows everyone who works out of the building by name.

“Hey, Larry.”

“Hello, Miss Blue.”

She loves that he calls her that. Erik nods at Larry and Larry does the same. They continue to an elevator that takes them to the third floor. Walking into the huge studio, Phoenix flicks on the lights and begins setting up her laptop, pulling out her writing notebook. Erik looks around. Blue and green lights, light up the booth that sits in front of them.

“You want something to drink? There’s all types of stuff in the fridge.” Phoenix asks, sitting in a big, comfy chair.

“Nah, I’m good for now.” Erik sits next to her. He sits and just watches as she finishes setting up everything. She has a few samples that she made in her files so she starts with those first. A very smooth R&B Style beat with drums begins to play through the speakers. Phoenix digs in her backpack and pulls out a bag of weed.

“You smoke?” she asks, taking out a back wood.

“Yeah.”

“When I come here alone, this is how I set the mood.”

He watches her carefully as she breaks the weed down so effortlessly. She bobs her head to the beat, filling the back wood with the weed. He could tell, this was her zone. She seemed so relaxed here. Even he couldn’t shake her up right now.

“So, Erik,” She adds emphasis to his name. “Tell me something.”

“What you wanna know?” he watches as she begins to perfectly lick the blunt closed. He’s mesmerized.

“What do you do?”

“In the Navy… engineer.”

She looks at him as she lights the blunt and takes a drag. She slowly releases the smoke. “You from here?”

“Yeah. Grew up in Oakland. You?”

“Nah… I’m from Detroit.”

“Damn, that’s what’s up. When did you come out here?”

She hands him the blunt. “Last year. My career started taking off. I was flying out here like every other week so I just moved out here.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.”

They passed the blunt back and forth until it was gone. The same beat still playing in the background. Phoenix was feeling her high and the beat. Melodies started coming to her as she sung a series of Ahhhs and Heyyys until they formed into lyrics and she wrote them down in her notebook.

“Damn girl, you can sing?”

“I can hold a note or two.”

“Have you ever wrote and recorded any songs for yourself?”

“I have a few.”

“Can I hear one?”

She’s hesitant at first but she goes through her files and finds a song she wrote when she broke up with her ex. As the song played, Erik paid close attention to every word, every note. He felt like he could hear her pain in her voice. She noticed the focused expression on his face. Like he was trying to figure out the exact story that inspired the song.

“Wrote this last year when I came out here. My ex… he uh, he cheated and had a baby.”

The song ends and she goes back to the beats she was listening to before.

“You’ve been single since?” he asks.

“Yeah. Just been working. If I’m gonna give a nigga my time, he has to understand my work. He can’t get in the way of that, ya’ know?”

“I get it.”

“How long have you been single?”

Erik sits back in his chair, rubbing his beard. “I’ve actually never really been in a relationship.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Life just didn’t seem to allow me to do all of that.”

“Why?”

Erik was never one to open up to people. Maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the vibe, but he felt safe with Phoenix in this moment. “I had to take care of myself growing up. Parents died young so I didn’t have time for distractions. Got into college early. Went to MIT,” Phoenix eyes grew big at that. “Went straight into the navy after that.”

“Do you think things have changed for you now? Like… maybe you would be able to try out a relationship or something?”

“Well, where I am now, if that’s what I wanted to do, I’ll figure it out. But it’s like you said, it has to be somebody that understands my work.”

She nods and turns to work on the beat that’s playing. After making a few adjustments, she figured out just what it was missing. She looked to Erik and noticed he was vibing out to the new, improved beat.

“You like it?”

“Hell yeah. I fuck with this.”

That made her happy. She loved when other people were vocal about her work.

“Can I ask you something, Erik?”

“Wassup?”

“So… what really happened with you and Sydney?”

He looks at her. He couldn’t read her like he usually could. “Nothing. We hung out. Chilled at her place. Got so high, we both passed out and I left. She wanted to do more but like I told you, I wasn’t feeling it.”

She played with her fingers. He rolled his chair closer to her and lifted her chin so she’s looking at him. “You don’t have to worry about her.”

“What?” She moved back. “I’m not worried about her. I was just-- nothing, never mind.”

He didn’t push her to continue. She opted to ask him more generic questions.

“Anyways… um, what’s your favorite color?”

If this is how she wanted this to go, he’d play along. “My favorite color is black. Yours?”

“Blue.” she smiled.

By the end of the session, Phoenix had finished two beats. She even showed Erik how to work a few buttons so he could help her record a few hooks and a verse. By the end of the session, they knew a lot more about each other. Erik’s last name is Stevens and he was 31. He loved french toast and watching anime. Phoenix was 27 with a birthday coming in just a few months. Erik may or may not be plotting to get her something. She loved animals and told him about her most embarrassing moment in high school when she was performing for pep rally and tripped on her own two feet in front of the whole school. They had a good time with each other. It was almost 2am when they left.

As they waited for the elevator, Erik stood dangerously close to Phoenix. She could feel like body heat and she wanted so bad to wrap her arms around him for him to warm her up.

“I had a good time with you tonight, Philly.”

“I had a good time with you too, Stevens.” She poked his chest.

The elevator arrives and they step on, Floor 7 and Penthouse floor as their destinations. The ride up was a comfortable, tired silence. As Phoenix got off on her floor, Erik reached for her hand, stopping her right between the open doors. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumbs. He licked his lips and she watched with her mouth parted slightly. He knew just what he was doing. “Goodnight, baby girl.”

If this nigga dont stop this!

“Goodnight, E.”

He was surprised at the nickname. Sure, most people called him E, but coming from her, at this moment, felt different. Like equivalent to his ‘baby girl.’ He felt a rush move through his chest as she slowly slid her hand from his, stroking his fingers and smiled at him. She stood on the other side of the doors until the doors shut. This time, it was Erik with jelly legs. He caught himself by leaning back on the back wall of the cabin as it traveled up. He has never felt like this with no woman… ever!

When he made it into his place, he stripped out of his clothes and took a hot shower. Thinking of the way her hand felt in his made his dick twitch under the warm water. He stroked it a few times before choosing to just wash up and go to bed. He really didn’t understand this feeling and didn’t want to process it right now. He just wanted to have this moment. Whatever it was. As he made himself comfortable in his cool sheets, he picked up his phone, opening Instagram. Phoenix’s story the first one highlighted at the top of his screen. He clicked it and 4 minutes ago, she posted a photo of the city’s view from her bedroom with the caption ‘Nights like This❤️ ’

There it is… that feeling in his chest again. He locks his phone and drifts off to sleep with Phoenix as the last thought on his mind.

#erik x phoenix #the elevator bae #shewritestheblues

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clownkiwi · 4 years ago

Text

my lengthy-ass post on game development and game release

yeaaaaa, ive been thinking about this for the past hour or so, and especially thinking about what my friends and other young people have talked about, i just decided to type out my feelings and thoughts about game development and game releases in terms of hyped up indie games (like silksong & deltarune chapter 2 + beyond)

but since this will be a huge post, im just gonna put it under a “read more” thing. if you wanna hear my thoughts on this, you can click the link below (this is basically comparable to a video essay ig)

but if you want a tldr, what my thoughts are is that dont give your hopes up on silksong, deltarune, & any other games releasing like very soon since you gotta take content implementation, bug testing/polishing, translations, porting, marketing, & announcements into consideration

with all that said, lets begin

so i remember talking to my friends a while ago about some of the most hyped up games release dates. you know, stuff like hollow knight: silksong or deltarune chapter 2+. especially after the updates given out by each developer/team recently, people are getting very excited to try out these games very soon this very year.

and by very soon, i mean like silksong (the full entire game) coming out THIS MONTH, and the entirety of deltarune (chapter 2 & however many chapters toby fox has planned) for THIS SUMMER IN ONE PACKAGE!!!

which, when i heard these, i thought they were all too good to be true! in fact, they’re all too good to be true. silksong DEFINITELY won’t come out this month, and i know for a Fact deltarune, the full package, won’t be out by this summer. and of course, that’s because of one thing that alot of us took for granted in terms of game development: the finalized touches.

before i go on, i just want to make this very clear: i am not a game design major. im not even in the industry. if anything, im an illustration major (currently), and all of what im gonna say is what i picked up from what other game devs have talked about and from other creative media industries (movie & tv show industry precisely). this is also really just speculation and opinionated, really the main point of this whole post is that you shouldn’t bet on silksong & deltarune coming out so soon from very easy theories and crazy misunderstandings on video game development, i am just giving out my own thoughts on when the game could possibly release (but tbf, i could be very wrong and we could get silksong out this month & the entirety of deltarune this summer. i don’t feel like we will, but it could be very possible and this whole post would be absolutely worthless)

now, i know tons of young people going into game development majors or want to be in the industry have tons of respect for the game development process. and thats good!!! im glad they have respect for the people actually making the content for the game and developing the full package. however, people usually take the finalized touches, imo, for granted more than the actual content development.

because how did people come to the conclusion about silksongs & deltarunes release date so soon???

from what i’ve heard from my friends and other people, silksong should come out this month to coincide with the anniversary of hollow knight, and because “team cherry is bad at marketing and releasing a game”

and with deltarune’s (the full package) release date, that was taking the whole game into consideration, and people’s speculation that deltarune would just be 4 chapters and that the whole thing will be released as one big package instead of episodic, despite the marketing of deltarune “chapter 1″

now, these sound a little bit reasonable. i mean, its been a while since we heard of them back in 2019 and 2018 respectively, and it makes perfect sense to release silksong on hollow knight’s anniversary and deltarune as a full game This Summer.

however, i still think that’s way too good to be true, and that’s because i took a few things into consideration: content implementation, bug fixing/polishing, translation, porting, and actually releasing the game (marketing/having the game up to a releasable state, and actually releasing the game). and to put this into my perspective, i thought about mario odyssey back in 2017

if you’re a nintendo fan like me and were hyped about the nintendo switch back in 2017, then you may remember mario odyssey and the hype around that game alone. when they revealed it back in 2017, they didn’t give a release date. a day after the reveal, mario odyssey devs came out straight and said they finished the game. the game was fully completed. however, they still didn’t give a release date, they just said that they’d spend this time polishing up the game.

and, i know it’s totally unfair to compare the polishing process between nintendo games & indie games since nintendo games are very well known for their polish, so they take more time to polish a game rather than. the next call of duty game.

however, this has given me a perspective as to how long developers spent on polishing the game. if we are to take nintendo at their word back then from when they announced they finished the game to release (which was late october 2017) then that means they spent 8-9 months alone on polish and bug fixing and maybe even translation. yes, you could have a finished game with all of the content in there, and you could feasibly release it as a switch launch title in march around the same time as breath of the wild; however, the developers didn’t feel mario odyssey was ready for release.

it wasn’t until e3 2017 when they felt proud to announce the release date for mario odyssey. this is important because that means that not only were the close to finishing the polishing & bug fixing state of the game, but that means they were done with translations and ready for marketing the game out to potential consumers. they spent who knows how long on polishing (probably anywhere between 6-9 months on polishing & bug testing alone) and they probably spent around the same amount of time on marketing the game.

now, like i said, its totally unfair to compare these two different design philosophies, as one is from a huge video game conglomerate that had years of game design vs small indie studios that only released their first game in the past decade, but let’s try to put this into perspective of silksong and deltarune

with silksong, team cherry had said they had gained new experience from hollow knight, both in terms of developing the actual games themselves and releasing them. this includes developing the game, implementing the content, and finalizing everything (from bug fixing and polishing, to marketing and releasing). and in terms of how they handled hollow knight’s original release, remember. that was their first game, they were very unsure as to how to market and release a game.

after hollow knight’s success, especially on switch, however, team cherry has gained experience as to how to finalize, market and release a game at a playable, releasable state.

in my personal opinion, especially with what team cherrys marketing manager had said recently, the content is done. they’ve finished all the content for silksong (the base game) and are in the finalized state of implementing everything into the game. however, that doesn’t mean for sure the game will come out on february 24th, 2021 for steam, switch & ps4 & xbox one (maybe even ps5 & series x)

they still gotta add any finishing polish to the game, they still gotta find and fix any bugs in the game, and even when they’re confident on that regard, you still gotta take marketing into account and when’s the right time to release the game. and in that point of view, you can probably imagine it won’t be until another few months until we hear anything substantial about silksong

and especially seeing as how silksong is gonna be a switch exclusive at first, silksong could be as easily released as hollow knight’s switch port was released; as an announcement in a big event, and on that same day. which would mean we could get silksong out for the nintendo switch during e3 2021. however, i was only being easy, fair, and reasonably realistic with silksong. it could come out sooner than i thought, or even later than i thought.

now, with deltarune, i am definitely very unsure about how far that game is in development and when that game will release, especially since all we have to go off of is undertale, the demo (deltarune chapter 1), and what toby fox officially said for undertale’s 5th anniversary on famitsu & on his website.

first, let’s go off of the claims i’ve heard people say about how long this game will be. “deltarune will be 4 chapters long, because there are 4 seasons in a year like undertale and because delta is the greek number for 4.” while that sounds reasonable, why hasn’t toby fox given us a sure amount of chapters he has planned for the game?

especially considering that in his official update on his website he kept emphasizing “chapters” and “multiple chapters” and “chapters 3+”, and the fact he separated chapter 2 from chapter 3+. from his words alone, it sounds like chapter 2 will be released separately from the entire rest of the game??? but that could just be me, and people are most excited about chapter 2 more than anything, so really he could just be talking about the state of the whole game by including chapter 2 separately, especially considering the entirety of deltarune will be built off of chapter 2.

but besides my speculation on chapter 2, the fact he didn’t give a sure amount of chapter numbers, and he even specifically said on release readiness he put “0%”, that just doesn’t translate to “this game should be ready for release in the summer of 2021″, despite the fact that he said development on the game is going smoothly, even taking his physical state that hes in right now.

i personally think the game could be around 4-7 chapters long if he’s planning on implementing multiple chapters in the game, even though the first draft of the games story and dialogue has already been finished in september 2020. and even if we were to go off of deltarune being 4 chapters long, it still doesn’t feel right to say this game will be out this summer??

i personally think if the full game will be 4 chapters, i feel more confident in saying the full 4 chapter game will be out by this upcoming holiday season at the earliest, and if not then, the latest would be somewhere in the first half of 2022. and if it won’t be 4 chapters long like im guessing it would, then it could be released even later than expected. again, i’m basing this off of words taken straight from toby fox’s mouth in september 2020, things couldve obviously changed since then and i could be very wrong about when this game will come out.

but i know for a fact deltarune wont fully be released this summer, they still gotta develop the later chapters and put this game into a full package or release it episodically (even though people are confident that the game will be released in one package, i haven’t heard toby fox officially say anything about how the game will be released, just how the game has been developed so far), which of course is taking polishing/bug fixes into account, and marketing as well

i know for a fact polishing & bug fixes & even marketing wont take as long as nintendo games, but i do know they won’t be done very easily or quickly, and we still shouldn’t be too sure about when these games or any future game will come out

i guess that’s actually just the point of this whole post. unless its people with refuteable sources that have been spot on with predictions or it’s officially said from the mouths of these developers, then don’t bet on silksong or deltarune coming out so soon because of rumors or speculation

i could even be wrong about everythign that i’ve just said. im not a game major, like i said, so silksong could probably come out on february 24th, 2021, and maybe deltarune will come out this summer. i’m very sure it isn’t, but i could be wrong and know nothing about the game development process, and really toby fox’s team & team cherry are game development gods, and i’m surprised nintendo hasn’t bought them out by now so they could release splatoon 3, mario odyssey 2, mario galaxy 3, the diamond and pearl remakes, and metroid prime 4 right now /s

but yea, like i said, don’t count on silksong & deltarune coming out so soon, and maybe take the final stages of development and marketing and releasing more realistically rather than overlooking them and making unsubstantiated claims based off of speculation

#ruby says clown shit #ok thats all i wanted to say #ik at this point this is really just me rambling but i do hope you understand what i mean #again the main thing is that you shouldnt give your hopes too high on silksong & deltarune releasing so soon #and ig u could use this for any other game you're very excited about coming out #if you read the whole post however. thank you so much i didn't make any sense at all but thank you anyways #really this is all just speculation. i could be right or i could be wrong #but again just dont give your hopes up on silksong or deltarune getting released soon #and ik for a fact i left some stuff out bc i spent alot of time writing my main points #so uh. yea. thats it. idk what else to say #im just gonna post this now #if it bombs whatever. this was pointless. but if you did listen to what i had to say thank you!!!

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alright--okay · 4 years ago

Text

you ever been to a basement show? pt. 4

tsukishima kei x reader

summary: Tsukishima sees you everywhere, and for a big school thats weird. And it’s not like he’s gonna do anything, that’d be even weirder, but one day in your shared lecture he sees you wearing a shirt with some small band’s name. A band he know. And well, now he has to know who you are.

word count: ~2.7 k

a/n: the first five chapters are already on ao3 so imma post them here real quick, hope anyone reading enjoys!

read on ao3!

pt. 4 Go Home. Play Music. Feel Better. - Michael Cera Palin

“Ohoho, look who decided to show up,” you said to Tsukishima as he moved to sit beside you in the lecture hall.

Tsukishima gave you an exasperated look, “class didn’t even start yet. Also please don’t take on those idiots’ mannerisms.”

“Why not? I think it’s fun. And completely unrelated, but want to come to the store with me after class? Bokuto recommended me this hair gel and I’ve always wanted to try-”

“Please stop,” Tsukishima turned to face the front of the class as you broke out into quiet giggles.

“Seriously though, I didn’t get to eat breakfast this morning so I’m gonna get something at that cafe near our apartments if you want to join.”

This wasn’t a date. Tsukishima knew this. That didn’t stop his heart from beating a tad bit faster or the apples of his cheeks growing rosier.

Tsukishima shifted his arm to one of the uncomfortable arm rests of the seat, leaning his head against his hand to hopefully help cover any of the heat on his cheeks, “yeah, I’m down.”

“Cool,” from the corner of his eye, Tsukishima saw you give your own small smile as you turned to focus on the professor about to start the lecture.

This wasn’t a date.

~~~~~~

Class dragged on, but soon enough you and Tsukishima were making the short journey to the cafe.

“Did you finish the paper for that class?” Tsukishima asked.

“What paper?”

“The one he assigned last week? Due on Wednesday? The one on that civilization-”

“Wait, no, no, no. That paper’s due on the 18th.”

“y/n…” Tsukshima slowed his pace to look you in your eyes, “Wednesday is the 18th.”

You let a quiet “fuck” slip from your mouth as you faced forward, moving quickly to the cafe now only a few shops away, “then no, I haven’t even started it.”

“Yeah that seemed pretty obvious,” Tsukishima said with a smirk.

“He never mentioned it again! I can’t keep track of everything!”

“Yeah, not even the date apparently,” Tsukishima snickered, opening the door for the two of you.

“Alright, listen!” Tsukishima’s laugh only grew louder, “I thought this class was gonna be fun and easy, and now I have to write a paper in like two days. Disgusting,” your attentioned moved to the menu hanging above the register.

“It’s short, you’re being dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” Tsukishima let out a startled laugh while you moved forward to give your order and pay then stood off to the side waiting for Tsukishima to do the same.

Tsukishima silently pointed to a table off in the corner that was free, “what is your major anyway?” he said as the two of you settled down into the seats.

You told him your major with a small shrug, “Nothing too special, but I liked it in high school so I figured I’d just keep up with it. Are you actually archeology or are you also just in this class for the hell of it?”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, “Yes, I’m an archeology major, but this class doesn’t count for much since it's pretty entry level.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re good at this stuff?”

“I’m not writing your paper.” “I wouldn’t ask that!” you said with a frown, “I was wondering if you could at least help me though. Read it over, give me some advice, make sure it’ll give me a decent grade, stuff like that. Come on, I’ll make you cookies.”

Tsukishima paused for a moment, “What about a strawberry shortcake?”

“I mean I’ll have to go to the store…” Tsukishima continued to stare at you, “but fine! Yes, I’ll make you a strawberry shortcake, you bastard.” You mumbled the last part under your breath as you got up to get yours and Tsukishima’s orders.

Making a cake would be a small price to pay for a good grade in a class you honestly didn’t care about. Spending time with Tsukishima didn’t hurt either.

“Get as much of it done as you can tonight, I’m done with class pretty early tomorrow so we can work on it together at my place whenever you’re free,” Tsukishima gave you the short rundown as you place the food on the table.

“Why don’t we do it at my place? You have like three roommates. I have Yachi.”

“Good point, text me tomorrow when you’re good,” Tsukishima said with a small nod.

~~~

It was a little past one on tuesday when you decided to text Tsukishima.

To Tsukishima archeology:

hey im walking home now so feel free to come over whenever

From Tsukishima archeology:

alright ill be there soon

You slid your phone back into your pocket, trying to turn your focus on the music flowing through your headphones and not on the lanky blonde that would be spending the rest of the day in your apartment.

You saw Tsukishima at least three times a week and most of that time was spent alone with each other in class or recitation, but this was… different. You were going to be actually alone with the guy. No distractions from a professor or a friend or a cafe worker calling out names. And okay Tsukishima was mildly attractive… Okay he was attractive but you wouldn’t let that come between you and the new friend you made in the snarky asshole.

It's not like anything would happen anyway. Tsukishima definitely didn’t like you like that, and no amount of daydreaming him confessing to you would make it come true (even if it was a very nice daydream).

It wasn’t long before you made it up to your apartment. Yachi had a late class today so you weren’t expecting her back until tonight, hopefully after Tsukishima had already left. It wasn’t that you didn’t want Yachi to know… but Yachi had already been making assumptions and Tsukishima coming over to “do work” alone in your room would do nothing but feed her imagination (even if it was the truth).

In the middle of eating a quick snack, Tsukishima sent you a text saying he was at your building.

You scrambled down the staircase of your building to meet Tsukishima who was waiting (somewhat) patiently on the stoop of your building.

“Finally,” he muttered as you widened the door for him to pass.

“You gave me no warning! Should’ve left you out here longer.”

“Should I just leave then? Seems like you don’t want me here so I’ll just-”

You put your hands on Tsukishima’s back, pushing him further into the building, “Nope, you’re helping me. You already agreed, no backing out.”

Tsukishima let out a dramatic sigh, now trailing behind you, “Did you at least start it?”

“Yes, in fact, I did. Almost done too, just need one more paragraph to push me over the word minimum.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime? I thought I was just gonna read it over?” Tsukishima asked as you let him into your and Yachi’s apartment, leading him to your small kitchen table.

“I dunno, dude; do other homework, work on your own paper, pick an album to listen to,” you gestured lazily towards your bedroom door, “all my vinyl is in the crates to the right.”

You could tell Tsukishima tried very hard to hide his excitement, “well, I already submitted my paper,” he ‘casually’ slid his backpack off his shoulders and made his way to the door you just pointed out.

You followed him over, showing him the milk crates you were talking about, your record player sitting on the dresser nearby.

“If you're gonna be sitting here, I’ll work at my desk,” you gathered your laptop and the notebook you had used to organize your paper, settling at the small desk, “if you need any help let me know.”

Tsukishima gave you a small smile and proceeded to get down on the floor to sit cross legged, flipping through the crate closest to him.

The two of you continued in silence for a while until Tsukishima gave a light poke to your shoulder, a recognizable album in his hand.

“I’ve never actually used a record player, so can you…” he trailed off, pushing the album towards you.

You tried to contain your amusement. Tsukishima clearly did not want to be asking you this, but you were glad he took this route instead of trying it and scratching up your records.

“Yeah sure, good pick by the way,” you got up from your desk chair and took the album, sliding the sleeve out to get to the vinyl itself, this one in particular being a bright blue as opposed to the typical black.

You ran him through how to handle the records and how to work your particular player so he would be able to flip and change the records whenever, and soon enough the beginning of Just Friends’ album Nothing but Love began to play.

You smiled again, making your way back to your desk to finish up your paper while Tsukishima went back to sitting on your floor, alternating between listening to the music and playing on his phone.

By the time the album came to an end you placed your laptop in Tsukishima’s lap, “be gentle,” you said, moving to grab an album at random and replace the one coming to an end.

“I’m not gonna promise anything,” he replied, adjusting his glasses to begin reading your paper.

You wandered off to the kitchen for a glass of water, not wanting to be in the room while Tsukishima was judging your writing.

“It’s not that bad!” Tsukishima called from your room, you walked over to lean in the door frame, “I marked some stuff you should reword and you should probably include that thing he mentioned a while ago…” Tsukishima continued to talk about your paper, flipping through notes to bring up examples and point out which parts he found errors in.

“But not bad?” you questioned again with a small smile, taking your laptop back.

“Not great, but not bad,” he said getting up to get his own stuff from the kitchen.

“I’ll take it!” you took it as a win when you heard Tsukishima’s laughter from the other room.

~~~

It was well into the evening by now, Tsukishima had helped fully finalize your paper a while ago but the two of you continued to talk and do work in your room. At this point you knew Yachi was going to be here soon. You would have to kick Tsukishima out now if you didn’t want her to notice just how long the boy had spent here and that just seemed rude and unnecessary (plus you didn’t really want Tsukishima to go just yet).

“Did you want to just stay for dinner? Yachi said she's picking something up, so if you want anything speak now.”

Tsukishima paused shortly at your question, “where’s she stopping?”

You relayed your and Tsukishima’s order to Yachi hoping she’d get home soon so you could have a proper meal.

You and Tsukishima were back to the floor, sifting through albums and talking over the music in the background.

“I wish you had A Flourish and a Spoil,” Tsukishima said, examining the art of one particular album.

“By The Districts?” Tsukishima’s eyes darted over to you, making you laugh, “I have that one, just probably got misplaced if it’s not with the D’s,” you took a minute to think back to the last time you had listened to the album, trying to place where it currently was.

You hauled yourself up and went to your dresser. Beside your record player was a short stack of albums you had been listening to the other day but were too lazy at the time to properly put away. Sure enough, the dark album art peaked from the pile.

You took the whole stack over to your crates, passing the album to Tsukishima’s waiting hands.

“We’re listening to this next,” Tsukishima said, eyes roaming the back of the album, examining all the details.

“We can definitely do that,” you replied, sorting the albums, “but Yachi’s gonna be here soon so you good with waiting a little bit?”

He gave you a small nod and the two of you resumed your quiet activities with the current record coming to an end. It wasn’t long after you heard the apartment’s door open with Yachi making her presence known.

The three of you sat around the small kitchen table, eating your food and talking about your days. You tried to ignore all of Yachi’s “subtle” looks in favor of asking about the class she just got out of.

“I hate that it lets out so late!” Yachi complained, dropping her head to the table, “I’m so tired and the walk home gets scary in the dark.”

“You can always ask me or Yamaguchi to walk with you,” Tsukishima said, looking up from his food, “if you’re really anxious we really wouldn’t mind, it’s a short walk.”

“Tsukki!” Yachi let out a cry, tears gathering in her eyes, “don’t listen to them, you’re so sweet, I love you.”

“Wait, listen to who-” Yachi interrupted his questions by giving his stiff posture a hug, “what are people saying about me?”

Yachi continued her hug, Tsukishima slowly raising a hand to pat her back, “nothing, nothing, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

You laughed at Tsukishima’s confused and irked expression, clearly not knowing how to interpret Yachi’s words.

Yachi removed herself from Tsukishima, “well, I am exhausted, goodnight,” Yachi said, giving you both a smile.

“Goodnight, Yachi, see you tomorrow,” you said, Tsukishima giving his own goodnight before turning to look you in the eye.

“It’s time,” he said, quickly cleaning up your plates and then heading to your room.

You laughed as you trailed behind him. He was already setting up the vinyl so you settled on your bed, letting your back fall into the comforter sitting atop your mattress.

The opening beats of the first song gently filled your room, quiet enough to not disturb Yachi but loud enough that the thumping drums still hit in your chest. Tsukishima turned around and you patted the spot beside you. He seemed to hesitate for a second before making his way over, letting his body lay beside your own.

“I used to listen to this album all the time in high school,” Tsukishima said to the ceiling. You turned your head to look at his side profile, “I think at the time it was just cause I liked how it sounded,” he paused for a particular chorus to pass, “but now I actually listen to it.”

You turned your head back to the ceiling, “I get that. A lot of albums have changed meaning for me over the years. This always felt like a new beginning though.”

Tsukishima hummed beside you. You let the music fill the room, you and Tsukishima each focusing on the lyrics of each song and how one connected to another.

Side A came to its gentle end, so you got up to slowly flip it, not wanting to break the calm atmosphere your room held at the moment. You took your spot beside Tsukishima again, trying not to disturb him.

“God, this album slaps,” Tsukishima mumbled under his breath at the crescendo of the song, making you break out into a laugh. Tsukishima surprisingly let out a chuckle of his own, “what? You know it's true.”

“I know, I know,” you let your giggles peter out, “I feel like you have to save that for Young Blood though.”

“It can be applied in a variety of places, don’t go around constricting me.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled at him, scooting your legs further on the bed to get more comfortable.

Young Blood, as good of a song as it was, was eight minutes long and by the final words of it, you could feel yourself drifting. It started with just resting your eyes, but soon your body was trying to catch up on the lack of sleep.

As your mind was shutting down, you heard a soft snore beside you. I’ll deal with this tomorrow, you thought to yourself before succumbing to the warmth of your room and the body beside you, letting the final song of the album lull you to sleep.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader

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moonguilt · 5 years ago

Note

please give me more kl headcanons.😔

OKAY people this got WAY out of hand and i wrote 7 pages of an entire au plotline so uh. sorry everybody but it’s gonna be split into at least a couple different postswe’ll call this CHAPTER 1: (chapter 2 can be found HERE)I roleplay on MMORPGs so you’re gonna have to deal with my self indulgent online roleplaying AU. There will be klance but I have to SET THE STAGE first so bear with me. basically this is just multiplayer online video game roleplaying garbage. on that note, enjoy.

hunk and pidge were the first ones to discover the video game “Voltron.” they dicked around on it just to test out the game controls and perhaps get coding ideas for a game they are trying to create, but they ended up kinda enjoying it. the gameplay has its issues but is overall pretty fluid.

hunk plays a rogue. he has to turn the game volume down sometimes because of the gross gorey noises the game makes when he stabs people. he probably would have rerolled as a different class just to escape the gruesome sound effects, but he really likes being able to enter stealth. he says it makes him feel “safe”

pidge plays a mage. hunk is under the impression that it’s because she wants to play a class with high intelligence points, and pidge doesn’t correct him. but really she just likes the idea of turning her enemies into frogs

shiro is hanging out with matt one day and ends up watching pidge play. he wants to be Hip and Cool so he decides to create a trial account and see if he likes it. turns out, he’s TERRIBLE at the actual gameplay (his computer reflexes are Bad and he keeps dying to basic mechanics on literally every boss fight. matt downloads the game and creates a priest out of pity just to help keep shiro alive while he levels)

“this is demeaning for everyone involved”

“you’re the one who has died seven times now to haxus. literally all you have to do is not stand in the fire. you’re a FULLY ARMORED PALADIN TANK how are you dying so quic—wait a minute. shiro. shiro why are you still wearing your level 1 starting gear.”

however, he finds out that the server they’re playing on has a roleplaying community! he figures he doesnt need swift reflexes to roleplay, so he starts dipping his toe into RP and discovers he really likes it. he enjoys writing stories about his heroic character, and enjoys combining those stories with the stories of other people he meets in the game. it’s like collaborative fantasy fiction writing, and it quickly becomes a passion of his

pidge and matt tease him endlessly for it. hunk is an angel and is very supportive of shiro’s new hobby. he is the only one who will listen to shiro gush about his character. unfortunately when shiro designed the character, he did not have a good grasp on roleplay, so the character is goofy looking and has an overly dramatic backstory involving dragons and a lost royal bloodline. hunk kindly chooses not to comment on it, and instead helps him develop new ideas and plots for his character’s adventures

eventually shiro manages to convince hunk to give RP a try. hunk is very careful and does a lot of research on the Voltron universe lore. he reads all the fanmade wiki pages, roleplaying guides on the game forums, etc., until he feels confident he can create a good character. he does (and eventually goes on to be a popular community figure who hosts huge server events and is friends with literally everyone, but that is several months down the line), and he and shiro begin their roleplaying adventures together

hunk gets Really Into It. fast. like faster than shiro. and he takes it SERIOUSLY; he is a total lore nerd & WILL tell you (in a very gentle, caring tone) if your character’s story/actions do not comply with the game’s established lore

“your character’s outfit is so cool! btw tho, I noticed you mentioned your character was born in the castle of lions—just wanted to let you know, it was actually only rediscovered and unlocked about 10 years ago in the game’s timeline, so it wouldn’t really make work for your character to be born there, since they’re 27 D: but if you want I can help you come up with a different birthplace :)”

keith, lance, and allura had thus far managed to resist the voltron bug. they just aren’t into mmorpg stuff, they insist. single-player games, sure, but open-world multi-player? sounds weird

lance falls first. Hunk hits him with the puppy dog eyes and its all over for him

he creates the most ridiculously beautiful character he can

“i dont care about whether my guy is a freaking dps or not, hunk, i need him to have an ass like a kardashian. WHERE IS THE BUTT SLIDER HUNK. i have a NICE ASS and i want it IMMORTALIZED IN PIXEL FORM”

he does, in fact, end up picking dps. hunk shows him the archer class and he lights up like a christmas tree

“i know you always wanted to bone legolas, so”

“i wanted to BE legolas, not BONE him, HUNK”

“sure lance”

allura falls next. her and lance’s weekly “self-care spa sessions” turn into lance rambling about all the wacky stuff he and hunk and shiro got up to that week, and she eventually cracks under the pressure because she Hates when there’s a new fad and she doesn’t understand it

“and then this guy came up to us and started roleplaying with us in ALL LOWER CASE and shiro and i wanted to d i e but hunk was all ‘nooo he’s just a newbie in need of some pointers’ and then spent the next TWENTY FREAKING MINUTES giving this guy tips and tricks about grammar and punctuation–”

within 2 days she has gotten almost halfway through leveling her new druid healer because she is Determined damn it

coran, allura’s uncle, also begins playing shortly thereafter. allura never says why exactly, but it does seem to be a direct result of her influence somehow. he plays a gunslinger class because he’s “always wanted to be a ‘rooting & tooting cowboy,’ as you call it!”

for whatever reason, he is Very Good at the game, like freakishly skilled. everyone is kind of afraid to question it so they just accept it and move on

he and pidge are really the only ones who are focusing on the actual game content anymore, so they start doing high-level raids together and then begin to gain something of a reputation as a terrifying duo in player-versus-player combat.

keith is resilient. he is a notoriously stubborn boy and no amount of puppy dog eyes from hunk or persuasive lectures from shiro will convince him to step outside his comfort zone

but lance, well. lance knows exactly how to get keith to do what he wants

“i bet you just know my character’s way cooler than yours would be”

“?? no. i literally dont care about your character or anybody else's”

“huh. guess i will just always be better at video games than you”

“are you seriously still trying to hold your killbot phantasm score over my head. you got lucky”

“i am the peerless king of video games–”

“are you listening to yourself. do you actually hear the words coming from your mouth.”

“–undefeated because you are too much of a coward–”

“fuck OFF send me the fucking download link you loudmouth”

keith takes. forever. to design his character.

lance is leaning over the back of keith’s chair, giving outrageous suggestions (and blatant lies) that keith pointedly ignores

“keith. keith if you give him neon orange hair it boosts your speed, did you know that?”

“choosing big ears gives you greater perception stats keith”

“keith listen to me, you gain the ability to breathe underwater if you choose a broken nose—OW, what the hell–”

keith takes SO LONG that eventually lance has to leave for dance lessons and when he gets back keith is only JUST finishing up

turns out he took so long because he wanted to use every resource available in the game to make the character look like a carbon copy of himself. the end result would have been impressive if it wasn’t so eerily accurate

“you’re seriously naming him keith kogane.”

“it’s my name!”

“keith it’s a ROLEPLAYING game. you’re supposed to play a ROLE”

“and my role is keith kogane.”

“that doesnt even fit the naming conventions for the humans in this game! hunk would be having a FIT right now if he was here”

“good thing he’s not”

keith selects the warrior class because, as lance repeatedly and petulantly insists, he is a “boring basic bitch fuckboy”

“im the fuckboy?? thats rich coming from a guy who plays an archer because he has a big fat crush on orlando bloom in a blond wig”

“HUNK is spreading LIES okay I do NOT have a cru–”

“i dont know what you see in him. he’s literally just a white lotor”

“you TAKE THAT BACK”

to be continued :)

#gfkjhdgfDGF im a mess i spent my ENTIRE day and night on this why am i like this kill me #i havent written anything for vld in a long time and it HIT me and i just got carried away :( perhaps i miss them #klance #video game au #headcanon #vld #moonguilt content

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