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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 7 months ago

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5 times you and Miguel walked away from each other and 1 time you didn't

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader notes: brother'sbestfriend!Miguel, soccerplayer!Miguel, college au, slow burn, somewhat mutual pining but written from reader's perspective more exclusively, SFW - only slightly suggestive (worst thing is probably a boner), fem reader (pretty neutral though), saying soccer instead of football felt so dirty but oh well, thank you for reading!! word count: 5.9k

You’re having your first lazy day in forever. It’s the first day in recent memory that you didn’t have something to do or somewhere to be. You’re just going to hang out in your apartment and watch your favorite shows or read for fun for once or whatever else you feel like doing. Because you don’t have to go anywhere, you don’t even take a shower, opting to stay in your comfy pajamas, not bothering with any makeup or hair effort, as you lounge around.

You have the place to yourself now, but you share it with your twin brother Alex, the two of you lucky enough to go to the same university.

When you eventually hear his keys scratching at the door, you’re sprawled on the couch reading a novel you’d left half-finished for ages despite actually really enjoying it. School really had a way of making you not read. Or at least never full books.

As Alex opens the door, you’re surprised to hear him talking to someone else. You see his unexpected guest a moment later from your spot on the couch, your college apartment rather small after all. And you’re mortified. Miguel. Alex’s best friend, university soccer team superstar, ridiculously attractive Miguel.

God, why did Alex not warn you he was bringing someone over? All it took was a quick message, for fuck’s sake. And Miguel of all people? Ugh. Well, it wasn’t like you could tell him. “Hey, brother dear, I have a huge crush on your best friend, so can I please get a warning next time he’ll be around? You know, especially so I’m not looking like a total mess when he shows up?”

He’d been coming over a lot recently actually. He and Alex were both on the soccer team and happened to share a few classes too, so their schedules really lined up. Usually, it was nice to get to see him. It’s not like either of them paid that much attention to you when they were hanging out, but Miguel was nice to look at. Even now, they seemed like they were coming back from a casual soccer match or something, and he still looked amazing. His thick, dark hair was messy in the way that made you want to run your hands through it; his t-shirt hugged his unreasonably broad chest and shoulders perfectly, and his sweatpants — fuck, his sweatpants — his ass looked miraculous as he turned to put his gym bag down.

Miguel’s looking at you as he and Alex step into the living room. “It’s Saturday, Y/N, and the weather’s finally fucking nice. Why’re you reading a book? You’re such a nerd,” Alex snaps as he plops onto the couch next you, pushing your legs off to make room.

“I’m a nerd because I’m reading a book? Am I am tomboy because I’m not wearing a dress, too, or are we keeping it to one stupid superficial stereotype?”

Miguel chuckles as he sits on Alex’s other side. “Cut him some slack, Y/N, he took a soccer ball to the head today. Might be making him even more of an idiot than usual.”

You can’t help but worry; you love the idiot after all.

“You okay? Was it bad?” you’re asking as you run your hand over his head looking for bumps. “I’m fine, mom,” he mocks, pushing you away. “And you? You asshole,” he accuses Miguel playfully. “‘Took a ball to the head’?” he repeats, then turning to you adds, “It was him that kicked it!” Miguel starts laughing.

“It was the perfect setup, man. Not my fault you were distracted.” “Whatever,” Alex says as he reaches for the video game remotes. Knowing them, it was time for FIFA.

You’re eager to hide with how you look right now anyway, so you get up to head into your room. “We didn’t mean to kick you out,” Miguel starts kindly. “ You don’t have to go; you were clearly comfortable here.” “Clearly comfortable”? God that sounded bad in your head. He was “super hot”; you were “clearly comfortable.”

“Thanks, Miguel. It’s fine. I was going to —“ but you don’t finish your excuse as you trip on the remote’s charging wire as you step across, falling unceremoniously to your face right in front of them.

“Mierda!” Miguel yells.

Alex immediately asks, “You okay?,” but it’s Miguel who’s up and over you in the same instant.

“You alright?” he asks softly as his hands grab your hips to help you up.

His hands on you were the last thing you needed right now. So much for composure. “Fine. Really,” you say, your breath shaky. You’re kneeling on your living room floor; Miguel’s squatting in front of you, close; his hands haven’t left your body even though you’re no longer prone. He just watches you closely, eyes beautiful and concerned. You stare back into them, and after a couple more shaky breaths finally manage to stand up and step away, looking anywhere but at him. “‘M fine,” you repeat. You turn away hurriedly and go the few steps to your room. Once safely behind closed doors, your face scrunches and your stomach sinks at the sheer embarrassment.

It’s been days since Miguel was at your apartment, and part of you is happy for the lack of pressure but another part of you still gets a funky feeling in her gut at the idea that the last memory of you he had was of a clumsy mess. He and Alex have a game today, and pretending to convince yourself that you just felt like it today, you make yourself up more than usual for it. You’re actually pretty happy with your look as you head out to meet some friends at the match.

They win. Miguel scores. Twice. Alex’s defense is probably the main reason for their clean sheet.

So, hyped up on adrenaline and victory, they’re laughing and messing around with their teammates as a bunch of people approach the sidelines to congratulate them. Alex spots you and makes a goofy face, always so playful when he’s happy. He jogs over to you and gives you a huge hug.

“Stop, you’re so sweaty!” you squeal. He just holds you tighter and rubs his sweaty hair on you, laughing. When he finally pulls away, Miguel is standing right next to him, smiling at the two of you. “Do I get a hug too?” he teases. “I scored two more goals than he did!”

You’re not sure if he’s kidding, and you’re sure the chuckle you give in response is somewhat tense.

But, stepping toward him, you just say, “Congratulations,” and wrap your arms around his shoulders without getting too close. Damn, they were like boulders. Miguel wraps his arms around your waist and closes the distance you’d maintained, giving you a surprisingly intimate embrace. You’re struck by the feeling of him around you. He’s sweaty, too, and you can smell his musk, but instead of off-putting, you find it incredibly arousing. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing where your chest is flush with his. He’s so warm, and you just want to breathe him in and trace every ridge of his body. But the hug is already lingering too long to be normal, and you pull back a bit awkwardly. Miguel is still looking at you, a subtle smile on his face.

He seems about to say something when a high pitched squeal right next to you startles you.

“Miguel!” a very pretty girl yells at him as she approaches, unabashedly jumping onto his back. She’s in a cheer uniform. “Oh my god, you were so good!” Miguel’s so sturdy, her jumping on him didn’t throw him off physically, but his face looks a little flustered. “Uh, thanks,” he says politely, putting her down. She just giggles and grabs his arm as she compliments him again.

You feel so awkward watching this, so you just turn around and walk away. You don’t see Miguel looking after you.

You’re at the after party with a couple of your friends. The soccer team was quite popular, and the victory parties tended to be good. You’re mostly having fun, but you can’t help but keep looking over to where Miguel is. Man of the match and man with that face, he was obviously the center of attention. People were coming up to congratulate him left and right. He handled it all so graciously. It shocked you how there was no arrogance in his demeanor; he was just the easygoing life of the party.

You wanted to go talk to him too, but you’d already congratulated him and didn’t know what else you would say. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself again. You could go talk to your brother, who was right next to him, but he was busy flirting, and you didn’t want to ruin it for him.

A bunch of people are dancing in the open space between you and Miguel, and the chaos lets you sneak long looks at him without his noticing. But when your friend leans over and asks, “Who do you keep looking at?,” you realize you have to be less obvious. “No one, just curious who Alex is flirting with,” you lie, proud of how quick you were with it.

“You a jealous, protective sister type?” she laughs.

“No, just curious.” “Is he?” “What?” “Protective?”

“Um, sometimes, depends. Why?”

“Because that guy over there keeps checking you out.” She nods toward an okay-looking guy chatting with someone on the edge of the dance floor. A second later, he was indeed looking over at you. “You should go talk to him!” “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not so interested.” “Why not? He’s hot! I’m pretty sure he’s on the team too. You don’t have to marry him, Y/N, just go dance! You’ve been weirdly tense all night.”

You look over again, and your eyes meet. Before you can do anything else, he makes the decision for you, walking over to you.

“Hey.” “Um, hi.” You exchange names and pleasantries, and he asks you if you want to dance. Without thinking about it, you glance toward the person you really wish you were dancing with. To your surprise, Miguel is already looking toward you. He looks less happy than before. You look back at this guy quickly, hoping neither of them noticed.

You feel slightly bad thinking this, using this guy you weren’t super interested in, but you couldn’t help but feel it’d be nice if Miguel saw a side of you that might make him think of you differently, not just as Alex’s sister. It’s just a dance anyway, so, you accept the offer and head to the dance floor.

You fall into a rhythm with the music, with the guy. The dancing is fun; the guy is fine. Your back is to Miguel, and you can’t resist spinning to catch another glimpse, doing it seamlessly as you keep dancing. Your breath catches when your eyes meet his.

Miguel watching you from across the room is doing much more to turn you on than anything your current dance partner is doing, but you channel your new energy into your movements. It’s not a well thought out decision, though in the back of your mind you know who it’s for, but you start moving a bit more suggestively. You let your hips follow the music, let your hands come up to your hair as your body rolls rhythmically. Feeling especially bold, you even manage to meander closer to where Miguel is, giving him a better view.

Unbeknownst to you, this unfortunately also makes Alex, now unoccupied, notice you for the first time. You don’t hear him leaning over to Miguel and saying, “Gross. I hate seeing my sister with random guys. Let’s go get more drinks.” He drags him away, and Miguel, unable to come up with a good reason not to follow, does.

The next time you spin, all you catch is the backs of their heads.

The following week, you’re coming home from classes, and all you can think about is eating. You’d had to skip lunch to finish an assignment and couldn’t wait for dinner.

When you enter your apartment, you find Miguel sitting on your couch.

“Hey,” he greets. “Hi.” He’s sitting on the edge of the sofa closest to you, and he adorably shifts over to make room, as if you couldn’t just go around. You weren’t planning on sitting anyway, but now that he’s wordlessly extended an invitation, you do. “Where’s Alex?”

“Went to take a shower. We’re gonna play a couple games when he’s done.” He gestures toward the video game console. “Are the remotes charged?” you joke. “I hear it’s a hazard to have the wires across the living room floor.” Miguel chuckles lightly at your self-deprecating humor. He’s turned toward you, sitting in the middle of the couch, his elbow on the backrest as he occasionally messes with his luscious hair. “I felt so bad that day. Taking over your space and tripping you. When you looked so peaceful when we got here.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you laugh, amused but also masking your stirring feelings at the fact that he had thought about it at all. “I was just a mess that day. And I wouldn’t call my pyjamas peaceful, just comfortable. In my defense, though, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I liked your pyjamas,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. “What? I did! I’m all for comfy clothing; have you not noticed 90% of my wardrobe is gym clothes?”

“Yes, well, you can get away with it. You’re a guy, and you look like that,” you say, gesturing at his body before you really realize what you’re saying. You tense as soon as you do. It just slipped out, the conversation getting weirdly easy and comfortable with him. “Like what?” he asks, but he’s smirking, knowing what you meant. You just roll your eyes again. “No, c’mon, chula, like what?” He lifts his eyebrows in challenge, mirth in his eyes. You’re too busy reeling from the pet name to have mental energy to come up with a retort. You’re grateful for what would’ve otherwise been embarrassing: your stomach grumbling. Miguel looks at your stomach and giggles. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you say, taking the escape route and walking to the adjoining kitchen. He follows. “You can get away with it too, you know,” he says nonchalantly. You think you know what he means but look back at him questioningly. “The clothes. You always look good.”

You’re glad you’re not facing him, your expression probably revealing your excitement. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” He leans on your counter. “So what are you having?” “I don’t know, whatever we have. Haven’t had time to go to the store.” You’re rummaging through your cabinets. “I can make you something,” he offers. You stop and look at him. “What? I’m a great cook,” he shrugs defensively. “Have you never had my tamales?”

“It’s not about you being good or not,” you giggle. “There’s no reason you should have to cook when you’re just here to hang out.”

He just shrugs again, but there’s a tinge of shyness in his typically confident facade.

You turn to open your fridge, and he comes up right next to you. “Oh shit, you guys have jarritos. Can I steal one?”

“Yeah, of course,” you laugh. “Grab whatever you want.”

You didn’t think he would immediately… As you bend over to grab something from the drawers, Miguel reaches up to grab the soda, leaning forward. Both of you moving simultaneously, your ass presses firmly against his crotch. You both freeze in panic, prolonging the position, before you jump up at the accidental contact. His and your “sorry”’s and “I didn’t mean to”’s get jumbled together in the colossally awkward moment. Miguel looks down, then back up again looking startled. He scurries around to the other side of the counter, it now separating you. “Jesus, Miguel, I didn’t do it on purpose! You don’t have to put a barricade between us; it’s not like I’m gonna jump you!” “No, no, it’s not that! Fuck, it’s, uh, fuck…” He looks lost for words. His hand comes to his face, covering it in resigned embarrassment. His voice is a mumble through his obstructing hand, “I’ve a bd’ve uh sitch-ation.”

“What?” He uncovers his face with an exasperated sigh. “I have… a bit of a… situation,” he whispers, looking down.

“Oh… oh!” you say, realization hitting you. Probably largely because of the awkward tension, at least partially at the idea of you giving Miguel O’Hara a boner, you start cracking up. He just stares at you, deadpan, his hands coming to his hips. “It’s not funny.” “It’s a little funny.” His glare cracks the tiniest bit.

“Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But it’s your fault!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Alex asks nonchalantly, coming out of his room, lazily drying his hair.

“Nothing!” you and Miguel say simultaneously.

“Okay… should I just pretend that wasn’t really suspicious?”

“Yes,” you tell him. “It’s nothing, really. Just me being clumsy again.”

His eyes are still skeptical, but Alex just chuckles and nods, letting it go at the look on your face. He heads to the couch with an easy “C’mon, man” at Miguel. Miguel follows, giving you a sideways glance and tense smile. When he sits, he immediately puts a cushion on his lap. You grab the first thing that looks edible in your fridge and head to your room.

Two weekends later finds you at another soccer team party. They’d lost this time, 2-1. Miguel scored their sole goal, and the other team’s second had been a sketchy penalty. If the victory parties were good, the defeat ones were wild. Most of the players, Miguel and Alex among them, were drowning their sorrows, especially after such a disheartening defeat.

You weren’t a player, but you had your own sorrows to drown, and you weren’t stopping yourself from doing just that. You’d hardly seen Miguel in almost two weeks, and the few times you had, he’d been cold, keeping interactions mainly to greetings and goodbyes. You didn’t know if you’d done something wrong, if he was still caught up with your little awkward encounter, or if you were just making it up, your feelings for him needing some outlet. Making up stories by constantly obsessing about him was as good as outlet as you could get sometimes. Alcohol was a better one now.

A while into the party, you’re at the bar for your… you lost count… numberth tequila shot. You down it, lick the salt off your hand, and stick the lime in your mouth, cringing.

Your eyes are still closed when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You open them and see Miguel standing beside you. “Maybe switch to water, huh, guapa?” he tells you.

“Why? M’fine,” you slur.

“Maybe, but you won’t be if you keep this pace up.” “And how would you know?”

“Just noticed,” he shrugs.

You squint your eyes accusingly at him. You didn’t know what you’d feel next time you talked to him, but you hadn’t expected to feel this angry.

“You notice me enough to watch how much I drink but not to say more than two words at a time to me for weeks?” He looks surprised. “Y/N…”

You cross your arms and lift your eyebrows in an implied “what?”

When he doesn’t say anything, you just walk past him. You end up walking through the dance floor, and though it wasn’t your plan, you kind of like moving to the music. You’re drunk enough to the lack the inhibitions to just dance alone. You’re enjoying yourself, not even bothering to look back and see if Miguel was still there. A bit later though, you startle as you feel a hand on your ass. You turn and find a random guy you’ve never met before, smiling at you disgustingly drunkenly. You’re taken aback, your mind already a bit slow from the alcohol, so you haven’t decided yet how to tell him to fuck off by the time Miguel is in front of you shoving him away. He’s not overly aggressive but, even drunk, easily moves the guy away from you with an angry “What the hell, man?”

The other guy looks seriously scared and just lifts his hands with a pathetic “sorry, Miguel.”

“Fucking better be, what the hell is wrong with you?” The other guy stumbles away. Miguel turns towards you, and his expression melts from frightening anger to warm concern in two seconds. “You okay?” he asks, his hands carefully grazing your shoulders. You nod and lean into him. At your seeming comfortable, he lets his arms come around you.

“Thanks,” you whisper in his ear.

“Of course,” he whispers in yours, and it sends a shiver down your entire body. You stare into his eyes, your hands resting on his chest.

“Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna dance with me?”

They don’t call it “liquid courage” for nothing.

Miguel considers you for a moment, but a soft smirk is whispered across is sharp features. He nods slowly, and his hands move slightly further down your back. You close your eyes at the sensation of his hands running along your body. You run your hands up his chest slowly and wrap your arms around his neck. When you open your eyes, you see his crimson ones boring into you.

You start moving a bit more as you focus on the music to relieve some of the tension you’re feeling. He follows your lead, and soon you’re dancing together much more easily. As a couple of songs go by, you’re both moving freely, staying close to each other the whole time.

You’re so exhilarated, and he seems as enveloped in you as you are in him, so the next time the beat calls for it, you let your body twist rhythmically in his grasp. Your back is now flush with his chest, your ass on his crotch, your hand reaching behind you on his neck, in his hair. His hands are firm on your hips, and when you roll them against him, you hear his whispered “Fuck, mami” in your ear and feel his arm come around your middle, pulling you into him. His hips move in rhythm with yours. You’ve probably never been so turned on in your entire life. You keep this up for a delicious while. You can feel Miguel is hard through his jeans, but he makes no sign of being embarrassed, just continuing to dance with you with expert hip movements that make your imagination go wild. Of course he’d be an amazing dancer. Of course you’d imagine what else his hips could do.

You twist back in his embrace, coming to face him. He holds you close, and you bring a hand to his face. He leans into your touch. You move your face up slightly, and he seems to be following, moving his down. You’re so close, even think you feel your lips graze his, when someone bumps up against you, making you stumble.

Miguel’s strong arms catch you, but the moment is gone, and a second later, he looks startled.

“You okay?” he asks, stepping back a bit, speaking loudly to keep his distance. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you assure, but he seems off.

“Let’s get some air, huh?”

You follow him outside, the sudden change in ambience making your head spin a little. You lean against the wall, and he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?” You nod but don’t say anything, maybe a bit drunker than you thought, trying to ground yourself. He leans on the wall next to you. His body is warm where it grazes your side. You can feel his gaze intermittently on you. You get a little dizzy again, and you lean onto his shoulder. He just lets you, and you stand like that for a while.

His fingers graze the back of your hand.

“Want me to take you home?”

You nod into his body. He wraps a firm arm around your shoulders and leads you away from the party.

You’re home before you know it, the whole journey a blur dominated by his warmth by your side. When you reach your front door, you lean on it and look up at him. His subtle smile elicits your full one. “Thanks,” you whisper. “’S no problem,” he shrugs. “You’ll be okay?” “Yeah,” you nod. You’re already sobering up. “You?”

He chuckles and nods.

“I wasn’t the one downing tequila shots like water,” he teases. Your cheeks warm, and you look down as you chuckle.

“Wasn’t that many…”

He laughs.

“It was, cariño.” Again with the pet names.

“I’m still surprised you noticed.” “I always notice you,” he responds without missing a beat. Your eyes snap up to his, and you see the longing there.

You stare at each other for a heavy moment, then, drunk more on the sensations of your earlier almost-kiss than on alcohol, chasing that feeling, you lean up to try again. Your lips are a breath away from his when he looks down, effectively rejecting your advance. You pull away, mortified.

“Sorry, I… sorry,” you stutter as you scramble for your keys. You turn to your door. “Y/N,” he whispers, his hand holding your wrist softly. “It’s okay,” you say, looking back him, wiping tears from your eyes. “You don’t have to say anything; sorry I misunderstood.”

You quickly go inside and close the door. You lean on it, crying. Miguel, eyes closed, fists clenched, rests his forehead on the opposite side.

Miguel doesn’t come around for a while. Even as days pass, you can’t stop thinking about your night together. Confusion, sadness, embarrassment — all mixing together into a terrible cocktail.

Another match day rolls around, and you can’t stomach the idea of watching Miguel play, of potentially having to talk to him after. You tell Alex you’re really sorry to not support him this time, but that you’re not feeling well. He worries over you a while, unhelpfully but adorably emptying your medicine cabinet onto the kitchen counter, looking through stuff, suggesting this and that, telling you to text him anything you needed that he could bring you after.

A while later, you’ve just slumped down onto the couch, when your stomach sinks at the sight you’re met with. There, at the corner of the room, lie his cleats. He’d been cleaning them the night before and had clearly forgotten to put them back in his gym bag.

“Fuck.”

You lift yourself up, grab them, and head over to the stadium.

When you get there, you pound at the locker room door, and it opens — of course, you couldn’t catch a fucking break — to Miguel O’Hara’s gorgeous face. Though he looks at you intently, you can’t quite read his expression. Then he yells over his shoulder, “Ale!”

Alex jogs over and, upon seeing you, lets out the biggest sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank God. I fucking love you.” He reaches for the cleats you’re holding up to him and gives you a bear hug. “Saved my fucking life, Y/N/N. Thank you.” He kisses your forehead. “You don’t look as sick. You’ll be okay?” He’s clearly in a rush to get back but wants to make sure you’re alright.

You nod and playfully shove his chest, pushing him back into the locker room. “You’re the best!” he yells over his shoulder as he saunters back. Miguel is still just standing there, all geared up for the match. It crosses your sick mind how good the uniform looks on him.

“You’re sick?” he asks.

“Nothing I won’t get over.” You offer him a weak smile. He’s nodding slowly, considering.

“Stay for the match?”

“Miguel, I —“ “Please.” You’ve never heard him plead before. You’re head is nodding before your mind can catch up. He just nods too. “I’ll find you after.” And with that, he jogs back into the locker room.

You’d never known ninety minutes could drag on for eternity, with a half-time’s worth of eternity in between. You’re sure you’re heartbeat was elevated the entire time, your mind and emotions reeling. What was Miguel going to say to you after the match? You had absolutely no read on him during your short interaction before. Then again, apparently you weren’t always great at reading him.

Minute after minute trickles by. At the end of the second half, your team up a goal (yes, Miguel’s), the ref announces an unusually large number of minutes. You moan with everyone else, for your own reasons. What was a potential leveler compared to the leveling of your heart?

Slowly, the minutes pass. The other team builds a mounting attack; they get a good attempt; they miss. The whistle blows; the crowd cheers, and you, you’re frozen in place.

You thaw yourself slowly as the players shake hands, go to their respective huddles. By the time they’re roaming the sidelines freely, you’ve only just managed to leave your seat.

As you descend the bleachers stairs, you catch sight of Miguel. He’s obviously searching, halfheartedly ignoring the congratulations coming from all sides. His eyes eventually meet yours, and as soon as they do, he’s running over to you, meeting you much closer to the bleachers than the field.

He comes to a stop right in front of you and just watches you. You just watch him. “Congratulations,” you say. He chuckles, lightly shaking his head.

“Thanks.”

He takes a step closer to you. “Y/N…” “Yeah?” “I…” “Miguel!” you’re interrupted. “Congratulations! Way to pull it out!” “Thanks, yeah, thank you,” he says hurriedly, looking back over to you. “Listen, I just, I wanted to clear things up after how we left them.” You nod, worrying your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around you defensively.

“I didn’t want you to think that —“

“Congratulations, Miguel! Did it again, man!” And a slap on the back.

“Uh-huh, yeah, thank you,” Miguel responds, turning away, approaching rudeness. “For fuck’s sake,” he says, much more softly. “C’mere.” He grabs your arm and drags you around the bleachers, stopping when you have a semblance of cover. He’s looking around to make sure no one else is about to talk to him, and his worried looks right after he’s just won makes you laugh. The sound draws his attention fully back to you. He smiles at seeing you smiling.

“Where can a guy get a little privacy, huh?” he jokes. “Probably not still by the field where he just scored the winning goal, I’m guessing,” you tease. He chuckles. Then he takes a deep, sobering breath. “Listen, Y/N…”

His tone sounds apologetic, and it makes you immediately think the worst. He probably just didn’t want you to be embarrassed. Wanted to fix things so they wouldn’t be awkward if he hung around, which he’d obviously want to do given Alex was his best friend.

Already fighting back tears, wanting to beat him to the punch to save face in whatever way you could at this point, you cut him off. “Miguel, you don’t have to explain anything or anything. I’m sorry I made more out of a good time than I should have. Please don’t let me keep you from hanging out with my brother even if I’m around, and I hope we can still be friends.” “What? No, that’s not… This isn’t about Alex. I mean, well it is a little bit.” He’s looking unsure. “Just keep things how they were before. It’s all fine.” “Is that what you want?” He looks serious. “What do you mean?” “Is that what you want? To keep things how they were before? To still be friends?”

“I… well… it’s what you want, isn’t it?” “I never said that.” “You didn’t have to. I tried to kiss you, and you pretty much said no to that. Twice.”

“I didn’t. Well, once, yeah I did, but it was only because I was worried you were too drunk. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. And, also, maybe a little bit because I panicked, okay?” He sounds more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard him yet. “I was worried it’d be weird with Alex or that I’d fuck it up with you, and I just, I don’t know, I panicked. And the other time wasn’t my fault. I was going to kiss you if you hadn’t stumbled.” “Someone bumped into me!” “I’m not blaming you! I just, it just, it made me remember you were drunk, and I didn’t want to be like that idiot guy I’d had to push away a while earlier.” “You’re nothing like that guy,” you say sternly. “I…” He’s started to look frustrated, unable to find the words. He runs his hand over his face, takes another deep breath. “What if you try now?” “What?” “I don’t know how to tell you. So maybe I can just show you. Try again, and no one will bump into you. I won’t panic, and I won’t think of all the things that could go wrong. I’ll think of how I’ve been feeling since that night. Absolutely fucking miserable. It’s been eating away at me; all I could think about was making it right with you, but I didn’t know how, didn’t know if I should. But I can’t take it anymore, and if you feel the same way, then, fuck, let’s just stop getting in our own way.”

“Miguel…” “Yeah?” “That was pretty good for not knowing how to tell me.” Your face forms the slightest teasing smirk, your eyes lighting up at the realization of what he’s telling you. “Shut up and kiss me already,” he says, rolling his eyes, unable to help his bright smile, pulling your body to his and bringing his lips onto yours.

You pull him into you, reciprocating eagerly. He moans into your mouth, and you feel his towering body sink onto yours. His arms are tight around you, one hand cupping your head, bringing you close. His kiss is fervent, desperate but concentrated.

You run your hands in his hair, and he chuckles gruffly, the sound muffled by your chasing mouth. You lose yourself in his embrace. You grip him tightly, breaching into his mouth, wanting to kiss him as much as wanting to be kissed by him. You could feel the beginning of a beautiful push and pull as your mouths move together, your bodies mold into each other’s.

You want to kiss him forever, but some loud cheering nearby startles you slightly apart. Miguel is looking deeply into your eyes. He kisses you again, lets his forehead rest on yours when he pulls back. You’re smiling when you say, “You should probably get back. I’m sure people are looking for you.” He groans dramatically and hides in the crook of your neck. He kisses it before saying, “I just want to be with you.”

You giggle, nuzzling his face with yours, holding him close, your hand in his hair.

“Yeah, me too.” He hums into your neck. He plants another kiss there, and one on your cheek on his way up, as he lifts his head again. His rough hands caress your face tenderly.

“This is good,” he says simply. You laugh and nod. “Fuck ‘em. I’ll go over there at some point. Let’s just stay here a little while longer.”

“Okay,” you smile.

Miguel leans back into you, kissing you and kissing you and kissing you.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara angst #across the spiderverse #spiderman #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman fanfiction #slow burn #mutual pining #bbf!miguel #soccerplayer!miguel

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rishiimaa · 4 months ago

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HI HI! I was the person who requested the “jjk with a child who’s tooth was growing or lost a tooth” which was 😮‍💨🤌. Then I had another thought where jjk characters child/children first start crawling/walking 🤔(I’m having a baby fever rn) please lmk if these requests are bothering you 😭😭

Nope! Requests’ll never bother me, and if they do, it’s not your fault, I’d just turn the requests off, so please, do more requests! I love it when people give me attention anyways!

Anywho… onto the fanfic!

Fluff

Yuji, Megumi, Gojo, Geto

Yuji

——————————————————————

Yuji would be the reason your son walk, he’d be watching football and cheering on, and he’d feel a bump on his leg, only to find out his son was standing!

——————————————————————————————

“Wh— God damn it! How do you fucking fumble that?!” Yuji yelled at the top of his lungs, earning a glare at you from the kitchen.

“Watch your mouth in front of C/N and stop yelling, I don’t want his first words to be that.” you narrowed your eyes at Yuji, easily making him shrink in size as he scratches his neck.

“Sorry, babe, it’s just I can’t understand why my team is fumbling so many balls! Especially the easier ones…I could totally catch that…”

You roll your eyes before getting back to your cooking, and you let out a breathy laugh, it was absolutely impossible to stay mad at Yuji, he’s just too sweet for his own good…so sweet that you even feel bad for scolding him.

Yuji laid back onto the couch in a pout, this game was totally scripted…all these years of rooting this stupid team just to lose again…so annoying.

While Yuji was having his temper tantrum, C/N, required his father’s attention, he tried reaching for him, throwing toys, making random babble noises, and even throwing toys at him! (Which never really makes it that far…But it’s worth a try!)

But nothing gained Yuji’s attention, his focus was on the game and only the game, which made C/N mad.

Suddenly…C/N made an attempt to stand by himself, by placing his feet on the floor and allowing to push himself up, just like his daddy does!

C/N began to finally wobble towards Yuji, slowly, but surely, C/N made it to Yuji’s leg, and began to punch it softly, this caught his attention, so when he looks down to his knees, he saw a very close standing wide-eyed C/N.

The silence grew…and both stared at eachother for a while, before Yuji finally realized what was going on.

“HOLY SHIT—!”

“Yuji!”

Megumi

——————————————————————

When C/N finally learns how to crawl, it took everything in Megumi not to cry, because if he did, he’d never hear the end of it from you…of course he ends up crying anyway…

——————————————————————————————

It was a normal day with the family, since it was the weekend, everyone was off work…So the Fushiguro family was stuck at home, Megumi was reading a book, you were watching TV (and a bit of baby clothes shopping), and little C/N was just laying on her belly on a blanket on the floor full of toys.

You continued to show Megumi the baby clothes you “scrolled” upon, but Megumi could never be irritated, he loved to hear you talk.

“Megumi! Look! This one has cute little sheep on it! You can also match with her—“

“Pass.”

Megumi groans, avoiding eye contact, you seethed at him with the sudden interruption.

“Pardon me? What gives you the right to say no to me? I pushed out C/N for two hours straight, and you can even match with her?”

Megumi groaned once again before pulling you on top his lap and giving you a light peck on your cheek.

“I meant with the sheep one, do the wolf one, that one’s cooler.” Megumi points at the screen, you let out a snort.

“What—“

“You’re so cute Megs, who knew i’d be married and have a baby with the cutest man in the world.”

“Could you not call me cute? That’s embarrassing…”

While you and Megumi were gushing, the ball that C/N was playing with rolled away, she tried to reach for it instead.

She made a sound, to alert her parents, but to no avail, no one responded. She pouted before lifting herself off the ground and deciding to crawl by herself to get the ball.

“Megumi, where’s C/N?”

Megumi looked over at the empty pile of blankets, both of you quickly went to your feet, but as you both stood up, you see a little C/N reaching for a small red ball.

You squealed with joy and you ran to your daughter and picked her up, simply out of pure excitement, you didn’t even let her finish crawling, but Megumi simply just stood there in silence.

then suddenly…you hear sniffs over your squealing, you look over at Megumi, covering his face, as the room fell silent.

“Megumi…Megumi are you crying over—“

“Shut up…”

Megumi said, wiping his tears but of course, knowing you, you didn’t shut up.

“Aww!! Look C/N, see how much your papa loves you? All those times he’s been mean doesn’t mean anything after all!” You tightly hug C/N, before she asks to be put down.

You put her down, when you do, C/B begins to crawl to her Papa, making happy baby noises as she reaches for Megumi for carrying. This definitely snaps Megumi as he lifts her up, hugging C/N once again with small sniffles sounding off…except this time it’s a bit louder…

You snap a picture, once again.

“I am definitely hanging this up.”

Gojo

——————————————————————

It takes Gojo so many attempts to get C/N to walk, and when she does…Hysterical, absolutely an abomination of tears and a camera roll full of pictures that he puts in his wallet.

——————————————————————

“Come on sweet pea…! I know you can do it! Walk to daddy, I got you!” Gojo said in a whiney tone, reaching out for his daughter, only for her to crawl to him and give him a sweet hug.

“It’s adorable that you did this, but I’d rather you’d walk…”

Gojo said sadly as C/N blew bubbles. He sighs of defeat before grabbing the remote and deciding to put it on spongebob, during that time it was C/N’s favorite show.

“Satoru, you know C/N’s not gonna walk when you ask her to, it’s gonna have to come natural.” You sigh, sitting on the couch after getting out the shower.

“I told you to let me get in the shower first! You take all the hot water!”

“Hm…well guess what, I’m a full grown woman! Should’ve been mature and went in yourself!”

Gojo pouts, before continuing to fidget with the spongebob plushy that C/N loves so much.

It makes sense that C/N would love spongebob, who wouldn’t, first of all, and second, her dad is Satoru Gojo, maybe it’s just genetic…

“Ugh…I can’t understand why you like this episode C/N, this one sucked.”

Gojo said, as if C/N could understand.

She acts like she does, because she looks at her dad and tilted her head, Gojo simply just looked at her with a pouty expression.

C/N furrowed her eyebrows, she took the insinuation that her dad was sad! And she couldn’t have that.

And so when Gojo wasn’t looking, she took the chance to walkover to him to comfort, with a little bit of struggling, she finally began to walk to her dad, you noticed this and pointed it out right away.

“Toru, Toru! Look! C/N in walking!” you pointed at C/N, but you always pull pranks on Gojo like this, so he simply tirelessly looked at her, not believing you at first

“Ohh yeah…and I’m the weakest man on—“ Gojo stops mid-sentence when he sees C/N slowly waddling towards him, in an instant, Gojo opens his arms so C/N could fall in them, she then places her chubby hand on Gojo’s cheek, and made a blabble that sounded like ‘there, there.’

You counted down from thee till the waterworks come…

Three

Two

one..

Sniff

hell yeah! right on queue!

i “You’re so adorable, C/N, I love you so much, never grow up and stay this age forever…” Gojo tightly holds C/N before he whips out his phone and takes a picture of his now standing daughter and a tearful Gojo.

Y/N thinks that those tears will never stop.

Geto

——————————————————————

Geto was obviously the calmest out of everyone in this list, but this time, you were the reason the twins walked, they were going through that phase when they only wanted their mother.

——————————————————————————————

Geto was currently giving both the twins a bath, he was struggling, as G/C/N was squirming around and is avoiding getting scrubbed, but of course B/C/N was being compliant.

“G/C/N…please…at least let me clean your butt, you literally just took a shit.” Geto sighed of defeat, you walked to the bathroom with a basket full of laundry.

“Any luck, Sugu?” You said, half-joking, Geto just shook his head and sighed

“G/C/N is refusing to take a wash…the most she’s done was get in the water” Geto almost lets out a whine. Before you let out a chuckle.

“It’s okay, Sugu, G/C/N is just stubborn like that, I’ll put your clothes in the washer, ‘kay?”

Geto gave a sound of approval, before trying again with G/C/N, she dodges the wash cloth once again while B/C/N was playing with a toy boat.

B/CN accidentally threw the toy out of the bath (don’t ask how), causing him to whine, Geto sighs, getting up to go and get the boat.

G/C/N took this opportunity to make a run for it after seeing her mom walk by, she crawled out of the tub, and stood on her feet, her naked body standing proudly, B/C/N said a “woah” noise, following his sister, just a bit more clumsily.

As if it wasn’t their first time walking, they both dashed out of the bathroom, following their mother.

“What the hell—? Y/N! Catch the twins! They’re making a run for it!”

Geto said in a panic, it would be easy to catch up to them, but they were small, so it was hard to grab them.

“Making a run for it—on my goddd!!” You said in a panic, running over at the door of the laundry the laundry room as both naked twins jumped on their mother laughing out loud, Geto sighed a breath of relief when he finally makes it to the twins, he couldn’t chose between being happy that they finally walked, or he should be pissed that not only did they wet the carpets, but they ran around the house naked.

“Well…who knew this’ll be their first walk…”

Geto ran his hand through his soft locks, sighing as he bent down to their level.

“Sugu, it seems they won’t take one unless I’m there, how about we all just take a bath together?”

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godihatethiswebsite · 7 months ago

Text

Desert Oasis

✽ Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x f!reader (The Mummy AU)

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part 2 - Cultivating a curious mind

You know what? I blame @dragonnarrative-writes for all of this. It's all their fault for poking this part of my brain in the first place even though I was originally just trying to poke theirs ><

There were only so many places you'd been allowed to go growing up even with a chaperone at your side. Mother brought you up the way any well respected young lady should be, and to be honest you felt much more at home in your skirts and dresses working on your drawings in the parlor than you did climbing over the fence in your backyard like your cousin convinced you to. But your father worried Kyle was improperly rubbing off on you and wanted to find you something to fill your head with where you could still be kept an eye on.

His solution: the Museum of Antiquities in Cairo.

After all, how much trouble could you get into reading about dead guys? At least they wouldn't be trying to chase your skirts as you got older.

Father owned his own shipping company that dealt with the transport of goods and wares, ancient artifacts included. He knew the people who were in charge of the facilities and thought this could be a replacement for the adventures your cousin liked to try to drag you on.

The beautifully painted sarcophagi drew in your imagination like a moth to a flame, chiseled sculptures and pillars depicting ancient beings far different than the god you'd been brought up believing in. And weren't you just the most well behaved little girl when your father brought you along on his business trips. All he had to do was put a book in your hand about the Old Kingdom and you'd stay seated right where he left you until it was time to leave. The drawings in your room turned less from pretty landscapes and fresh vases to imitations of the reliefs you'd seen from photographs of burial chamber walls. Your mother was slightly alarmed at first, but once she saw you still happily keeping up with your piano lessons and needlework she quickly gave in.

Once you were old enough to walk around the city by yourself, you stopped by the museum at least once a week just to spend hours wandering the halls - sometimes more if you noticed a new shipment of wares showing up on your father's ledgers that week slated for delivery. Always so eager to witness the unveiling of new items even if they'd never get put on display. One of the perks of growing up around the loading docks and being a sweet well mannered child to the workers.

You didn't work at the museum with Dr. John Price, but you'd frequented there an awful lot to have come to decent terms with the man. Always gruff, a bit rough around the edges, but boy did he have a mind for antiquities.

He wasn't always the easiest man to deal with; someone who didn't have time for the stupidity that came with being around the uneducated masses during business hours. He'd been working there in some capacity or another since you'd first became a patron, though back in those days he'd been a lot less rigid.

At one point you'd been barred from looking at a book that your father deemed had too much suggestive material in it - it was a tome about Tawaret, goddess of childbirth and fertility - and sent over to your favorite reading chair with something about Pepi II instead. Try as you might you couldn't get into it, mind still lingering on the forbidden subject which was just the latest in your stream of mythology research. You'd been half-heartedly flipping through the pages when a shadow passed you by and casually deposited the desired reading material in your lap, not even bothering to glance your way as he kept moving and turned down another aisle. He was clean shaven back then, but he'd made an impression as a kindred spirit willing to look the other way.

Now almost twenty years later you did your best to stay out of his way and disturb him as little as possible, but every so often you'd be fortunate enough to stumble upon him on a good day where he'd indulge you on certain topics of conversation that flowed smoothly, allowing you to see the lingering passionate twinkle of a younger man hiding behind eyes so full of wisdom and tired experience.

(And if you happened by chance to occassionally pass by a tall, large, tank of a dark robed man waiting patiently for his turn to have an audience with Price on your way out of his office - following you with his deep brown eyes and a cloth cover shrouding the lower half of his face from view - you kept your gaze to the floor and gave him a wide respectful berth, only risking a glance back at the individual long enough to see the broad planes of his back disappearing behind Price's door with a click of the lock)

<< ✿ Previous ✿ << ✽ >> ✿ Next ✿ >>

[Edited 5/8/24: changed formatting, title, tags, and numbering system]

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chavahlahdraws · 1 year ago

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okay i see you’re obviously a fan of hmc, as you should, but i have a question cause i read the book but people on tiktok pissed me off (as booktok usually does i’m about ready to get rid of it) and a lot of people were saying it’s weird that people love the relationship even though sophie “didn’t really love him” because she was charmed. but i was like no y’all i thought she really loved him?? like she stays with him to have a kid right so???

ok. here is a real way to comment on this yippee! this is actually aweslome because i get to do my little sophie rant.

first of all and most importantly - sophie was never charmed by howl. quite the opposite, really, which i would argue is how she fell for him in the first place.

“Oh, confound that gray-and-scarlet suit!” Sophie said. “I refuse to believe that I was the one that got caught with it!” The trouble was the blue-and-silver suit seemed to have worked just the same. She stumped a few steps further. “Anyway,’ she said with great relief, “Howl doesn’t like me!”

this is by far one of my favorite sophie moments in the whole book: and i understand the confusion here for more than one reason (will explain more later!) but clearly she’s using the gray and scarlet suit as a euphemism because she’s in denial. after everything she’s seen of him, sophie refuses to believe that she could fall in love with someone who is so intrinsically flawed—however, as we find at the end of the book—they’re the same in that respect.

howl is by no means a bad person or an evil person in the slightest, and despite herself sophie falls in love with him because of his kindness (like most people do, anyway) here’s some times that they bond …

More about Howl? Sophie thought desperately. I have to blacken his name! Her mind was such a blank that for a second it actually seemed to her that Howl had no faults at all. How stupid! “Well, he’s fickle, careless, selfish, and hysterical,” she said. “Half the time I think he doesn’t care what happens to anyone as long as he’s all right-but then I find out how awfully kind he’s been to someone. Then I think he’s kind just when it suits him-only then I find out he undercharges poor people. I don’t know, Your Majesty. He’s a mess.”

“Behold the new Royal Wizard,” he said. “My name is very black.” Then he began to laugh, much to the surprise of Sophie and Michael. “And what did she do to the Count of Catterack?” he laughed. “I should never have let her near the King!” “I did blacken your name!” Sophie protested. “I know. It was my miscalculation,” Howl said.

Howl pointed a shaky hand up toward the canopy of his bed. “That’s why I love spiders. ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try, again.’ I keep trying,” he said with great sadness. “But I brought it on myself by making a bargain some years ago, and I know I shall never be able to love anyone properly now.” The water running out of Howl’s eyes was definitely tears now. Sophie was concerned. “Now, you mustn’t cry-”

“If you come out here alone, bring your stick to test the ground with,” Howl said. “It’s full of springs and bog. And don’t go any further that way.”

As she had feared, the hard black-and-white daylight coming through the broken wall showed her that Howl had not bothered to shave or tidy his hair. His eyes were still red-rimmed and his black sleeves were torn in several places. There was not much to choose between Howl and the scarecrow. Oh, dear! Sophie thought. He must love Miss Angorian very much. “I came for Miss Angorian,” she explained. “And I thought if I arranged for your family to visit you, it would keep you quiet for once!” Howl said disgustedly. “But no-”

Howl rose up on his hands and knees with a scramble. “I can’t stay,” he said. “I’ve got to rescue that fool Sophie.” “I’m here!” Sophie said, shaking his shoulder. “But so is Miss Angorian! Get up and do something about her! Quickly!”

Howl looked a little sad, but he said, “We were both hoping you would. Neither of us wanted to end up like the Witch and Miss Angorian. Would you call your hair ginger?” “Red gold,” Sophie said. Not much had changed about Howl that she could see, now he had his heart back, except maybe that his eyes seemed a deeper color-more like eyes and less like glass marbles. “Unlike some people’s,” she said, “it’s natural.” “I’ve never seen why people put such a value on things being natural,” Howl said, and Sophie knew then that he was scarcely changed at all.

and finally…

“Sophie,” said Martha, “the spell’s off you! Did you hear?” But Sophie and Howl were holding one another’s hands and smiling and smiling, quite unable to stop. “Don’t bother me now,” said Howl. “I only did it for the money.” “Liar!” said Sophie.

howl and sophie are meant for each other! they compliment each other immensely, and it’s difficult to describe how well they do so concisely. what i can pin it down to is this: nothing is secret between them. they operate like best friends as well as they do as lovers; they never let anything slide between them! sophie refuses to take howl’s shit when he crosses a line, (and howl vice cersa, especially when sophie is putting herself down) but they also know each other well enough to truly know their intentions when they say anything. a great example of this in hmc is this whole conversation:

“Why did you pretend to run away? To deceive the Witch?” “Not likely!” Howl yelled. “I’m a coward. Only way I can do something this frightening is to tell my self I’m not doing it!” Oh, dear! Sophie thought, looking round at the swirling grit. He’s being honest! And this is a wind. The last bit of the curse has come true! The hot grit hit her thunderously and Howl’s grip hurt. “Keep running!” Howl bawled. “You’ll get hurt at this speed!” Sophie gasped and made her legs work again. She could see the mountains clearly now and a line of green below that was the flowering bushes. Even though yellow sand kept swirling in the way, the mountains seemed to grow and the green line rushed toward them until it was hedge high. “All my flanks were weak!” Howl shouted. “I was relying on Suliman being alive. Then when all that seemed to be left of him was Percival, I was so scared I had to go out and get drunk. And then you go and play into the Witch’s hands!” “I’m the eldest!” Sophie shrieked. “I’m a failure!” “Garbage!” Howl shouted. “You just never stop to think!” Howl was slowing down. Dust kicked up round them in dense clouds. Sophie only knew the bushes were quite near because she could hear the rush and rattle of the gritty wind in the leaves. They plunged in among them with a crash, still going so fast that Howl had to swerve and drag Sophie in along, skimming run across a lake. “And you’re too nice,” he added, above the lap-lap of the water and the patter of sand on the water-lily leaves. “I was relying on you being too jealous to let that demon near the place.”

sorry for the chunky quote, but this is super super important for our two silly little characters and their dynamic!!

and as for the misconception that sophie was charmed by howl:

mrs. pentsemmon actually hints when she meets sophie that she cursed the grey and scarlet suit herself (out of jealousy, though she’d never say it) and the original passage says that;

The trouble was the blue-and-silver suit seemed to have worked just the same.

Sophie knows for a fact that she felt the same about Howl when he was wearing the blue and silver suit that she did when he wore the enchanted one, and she knew from that that she most definitely wasn’t affected by the charm.

also! a little note about misconceptions in general: the first time i read hmc, the ending scene felt out of nowhere. but that’s how subtly dwj worked in the character development throughout this story! at it’s core hmc is a character based story, and howl and sophie are the most important characters (sophie especially!) but in the first read through i think we all focused on the plot a little more since we didn’t know that was what it was. every read through since, i’ve seen how howl and sophie fall in love in real time! and it’s undeniable then. :3

anyways! relationships written by a woman always win fr. thanks for listening to my rant if you made it this far. and my good friend @thatfoolsophie if you have anything to add, please do to this already crazy long post lmao :3

#hmc book #howl’s moving castle #hmc #dwj #sophie hatter #howell jenkins #howl pendragon #howls moving castle #sophie x howl #howl and sophie #long post #book analysis

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stromuprisahat · 7 months ago

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Why do Zoya stans dunk on Alina constantly when without her she'd be dead I don't understand. At least Alina wasn't handed the crown and a throne by her prince bf. It's the people who'd already declared her the Sun Queen something we can't say about Zoya who's male LI had to scheme and bribe people to declare her as their queen.

I don't see how "Nazyalensky" rule will last tbh. Alina was loved because the sun summoner had some religious significance in their world (I think it's because of the existence of fold she was seen as the savior) but Zoya's dragon avatar doesn't have any of that. Like her being a dragon just feels so random to me i really can't take it seriously. Is there any public love for her that there was with Alina? And what happened to the majority of Grisha who sided with the darkling? Where did they go? Did they just accept the monarchy? So many questions

I don't know. I've blocked so many idiots, fandom drama usually doesn't reach me.

There are several issues with both of them.

It's true I don't know, what would Zoya do, if Alina didn't appear to claim the Second Army. Until the Sun Summoner shows up, the remaining Little Palace Grisha are prisoners in their own home. The only person we know of, that was doing anything, is Sergei, who worked on paperwork and probably kept an eye on day-to-day the way his limited options let him. Zoya was bitching, but not contributing.

Her behaviour points towards being a big-mouthed follower, waiting for another powerful figure to worship. Which she does, eventually. Alina becomes the flawless Saint in her memories.

I don't remember Nikolai bribing anyone to proclaim Zoya, but then again- the whole passage was so stupid I was trying not to cry the whole time, while reading it, so I might've missed it.

Alina is more likely to keep the power she had as the Sol Koroleva, but none of it was her merit either. While there likely was some myth regarding Sun Summoners, we don't know anything about it, and in books we're told in several places the Apparat was actively spreading the myth he created about her.

Sometimes I was Sankta Alina, sometimes Alina the Just or the Bright or the Merciful. Daughter of Keramzin, they shouted, Daughter of Ravka. Daughter of the Fold. Rebe Dva Stolba, they called me, Daughter of Two Mills, after the valley that was home to the nameless settlement of my birth. I had the vaguest memory of the ruins the valley was named after, two rocky spindles by the side of a dusty road. The Apparat had been busy breaking open my past, sifting through the rubble to build the story of a Saint.

Siege and Storm- Chapter 10

What she does, is wave and smile. She sucks in leadership and doesn't become better with time. She's misguided at best, and fails even in her official main quest- the Fold isn't destroyed by her, just as it isn't destroyed well.

But hey- it's not entirely her fault. She's victim of her enviroment as much as the author's.

I can see where Alina's support comes from- there's faith to built on, probably a legend we're not aware of, whole net of priests spreading it, Alina tours the country for a while and appears with the Prince, meeting diplomats and delegates...

Zoya's following a new king around, rumoured to be his mistress. One of three Grisha he closely works with a few months after nation-wide pogroms hunting them? Young King with head full of innovations and changes (both usually distrusted, when first applied), rumored to be bastard...

Alina was considered a Saint in her own right.

Zoya's one of many Grisha first and foremost, drawing power from her connection to Nikolai. She wasn't appearing with Alina, she wasn't seen with her by considerable amount of surviving people, they weren't seen to be close in any way. Her reputation of "war hero" is built on nothing. Her close ones claim she fought alongside Alina, and there's too little people to dispute (or confirm) it.

Neither of them have any real achievements, until Zoya sells her soul body to and for a dragon nuke, that's somehow better than the Fold nuke.

Even associations with their power can't be compared and deemed of similar weight. While Sun is mostly viewed in positive light (pun absolutely intended), dragons usually have negative connotations. If you told me Zoya's worshipped in Shu Han- a country inspired by China (I guess.)-, I would believe it, but Slavic countries aren't nearly as clear-cut in their relationship to giant flying lizards (If I'm wrong about China, feel free to correct me- my knowledge of its folklore is superficial at best.). Sure, dragons might be wise and otherwordly (like snakes), but also malevolent and dangerous.

Either way, Zoya's rule has no real(istic) support, and I would love to read a good story about it's gruesome collapse.

As for Aleksander's Grisha- we weren't supposed to ask about them during TGT, so what makes you think they exist now? Unless they're here to establish the Darkling enjoyed killing little children and torturing helpless widows or whatever...

#reply #Grishaverse #grishanalyticritical #Alina Starkov #Zoya Nazyalensky #Cult of the Sun Saint #S&S Chapter 10 #Grisha loyalists #self centred and paranoid #books #quotes #Leigh Bardugo #anti Zoya #anti Leigh Bardugo

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madaboutmunson · 1 year ago

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sad-rockstar-Steve x tour-photographer-Eddie

Little idea I had and decided to write it

"I do NOT want this assignment, Marney!" Eddie pushes the flimsy file back over to his agent. He already knows what's inside. It shows up at least once a year, which was a relief comparing it to how frequent the request used to be.

"Eddie, baby, hear me out. It’s not an assignment. It is a project. It could get you back on the radar. It's not even a tour, really, it's a residency, and his team have already provided you with a list of shots he wants for the book. It's pose, point and shoot, Ed. Easy money." She slides it back over to him, keeping her fingers on top of it firmly, drumming her bright red talons on the card as she looks him right in the eyes, "and it's not like the gigs have been rolling in for you, now have they, sweetheart? Other than the family portrait business that I know you absolutely adore!" She smirks and holds his gaze. Using his favourite pet name against him makes his blood boil, but he isn't angry with her. It was Him.

"Gigs drying up for us is not my fault! The last client wanted all candid behind-the-scenes shots. I provided that. I edited them, barely, because they wanted the realism of life on the road, and they ok'd them. It's not my fault the internet is a cruel, unforgiving place!” Eddie exclaims in annoyance, “Especially when it’s full of Harronites, or whatever those lunatics call themselves." Eddie mumbles under his breath.

She raises her eyebrow at him, "He asked for you specifically." She says, and flicks open the folder revealing an old photo Eddie had taken of Rock Phenom Steve Harrington at one of his shows. He didn’t know what was so special about the picture. He’d taken this shot hundreds of times for artists. It's on a list of shots they can ask for. The artist climbs the barrier, and the hands of the fans reach up to them like worshipers praising their false idol. Eddie waves his hand, and the artist looks straight down the lens. It's supposed to be a duality of intimacy. The solid eye contact with the camera whilst in the arms of strangers, eager to reach out and touch their obsession which none of them would ever possess. Lest of all, that guy.

What a piece of work. Ruined Eddie’s career and, damn, near ruined his life!

"He says," she balances her reading glasses on the tip of her button nose and pulls the sticky note from the photo, "no one captures his truth like Eddie Munson." She flips over the message so Eddie can see, “Signed it too. Could be worth something?”

"I've never even spoken to the guy. Why's he so obsessed with me?" Eddie whines, and his agent shrugs.

"Does it matter, Ed? There are a lot more zeros here than we'd see normally."

"Something seems off about this. I don't like it."

"You like his stuff, don't you?"

"Did! I did like his stuff until I published that stupid photo. He's been on my case ever since."

"Not flattered, Eddie?" She laughs

"At first, sure. Until his demands started rolling in, and his fans started giving me grief for declining them. They called me washed up! I hadn't even begun! I thought that picture was gonna be my big break! It went viral! Remember you told me that! But it was actually my demise, Marn!" Eddie seethes, “Imagine calling up your horde of rabid fans because you couldn’t get your way!” He closes the file and folds his arms. “No fuckin’ way! I can’t post a picture of a fucking sunset without his fans all over it like a rash.”

“Then just say yes, Eddie. It can’t be any worse than it is right now.” Marney says with a kind smile of compassion. She did want what was best for him, and though it killed him to admit it, he did need that money. He was in debt up to his eyeballs, barely breaking even at the studio, and the numbers on the cheque he saw, could clear that and then some.

Eddie sighs and sinks back into his chair, “I’m gonna regret this. I know I am.” he says tensely, running his hand through his hair.

He looks up at her, and she is already back in her chair, phone in hand, finger poised over the green call button.

At his lowest, Eddie admits defeat and nods.

#eddie munson #eddiemunson #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #steddie #steddie fan fiction #steddie ficlet #steve harrington

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originallandlockedmariner · 1 year ago

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"Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth." (Alan Watt) I pronounce it Tyoosday. I’m usually the first to text. I haven’t worn underwear since the tenth grade. I like to make situations awkward when given the opportunity. I always say hi to dogs and moo at cows. I’m a courtesy flusher, wicked awesome steering wheel guitarist, and I open chip bags with my teeth. I believe in chivalry, ghosts, manners, manifestation and using my turn signal. I’m a girl drink drunk. I have zero energy for liars. Sleestaks, Ogopogo, Witchy Poo, Linda Blair, and boiled brussels sprouts terrified me as a child. I think vulnerability, a woman’s confidence, and conversations that last for hours are incredibly sexy. I have 7 scars, some are visible. When I laugh hard, it turns into a wheeze and the back of my head throbs. I am vulgar. Like a lot. I wasn’t a fan of Fifty Shades of Grey; preferred Topping From Below. On the rare occasion, I actually finish a book I’ve started reading. I have never eaten at Olive Garden. The first album I bought with my own money was KISS Alive II. I’m stupid stubborn. I’ve been to eleven weddings and half as many funerals. I don’t buy birthday cards or Christmas cards, I make them. I’m secretly still a LEGO maniac and will always be a neighbor of Mister Rogers. Chances are, I’m up before you every single morning. I don’t like cilantro or olives. I’ve been a teacher longer than I haven’t. Nine is my favourite number. Over the years, I’ve been thelandlockedmariner, withouthaste, and various shades of asshole. Like Anthony, I’m a cheap, nasty, low-down, trailer park, burger slut. I have never traveled in Europe. Hopeless Romantic/Filthy Mind. My reputation has been tarnished over the years, but I’m proud of who I am. I still can’t tell the difference between a sweet potato and a yam. I’ve bumbled my way through speeches to a four grad classes and a thousand or so unimpressed family members. I met Dave Grohl and Jennifer Lopez in the same day. I had my first tattoo at 19 and its now covered over. I am private and yet a completely open book. I lost my virginity to the song Rocketman. I broke the same collarbone twice. I say fuck too much. Like a fucking lot. I prefer not to make reservations. I am ferociously loyal to a fault. Creativity is my catharsis. Most days, I exist in two places. I have three equally spaced moles on each side of my belly button. I use voice to text when I can’t remember how to spell a word. I overthink far too often. I have a very unhealthy frame addiction. I’d rather show up in person than online shop. And after nearly half a century, I finally found my home… and her name is Jaime.

@daily-esprit-descalier

#me #my words

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smittenbyvillains · 2 years ago

Text

Time Travel Hero PART TWO

Warnings:

When you came to you were in a cell covered by a blanket. You looked around and rubbed your head from the headache forming and sat up. you looked down and noticed you were changed into a long tee and shorts. It explained by you were so cold. The cell walls were grey and there was a small toilet and sink. The bed was not comfy. You stretched your arms and looked out the cell bars.

You lowly stood up off the bed legs slightly shaking. You held on to the bed. The floor was cold against your feet. You fell back on the bed unable to stand on It yet. The spell must have been powerful you thought.

You didn't know the time. It seemed like hours before someone came down. It was a servant with a tray of food and some water. They slid it on the floor of your cell and walked away. You went and grabbed it taking it slow. Valtor wasn't going to poison you right away. That was stupid if you were dead before he saw you.

You ate and drank the water. It was taking a long time before anyone else came down. You were covering up with the blanket and leaning against the wall on the bed. You heard footsteps that were strong and sounded commanding. You turned to the bars.

Valtor appeared but he was wearing white sleeves and a dark red-purple jacket and the same color pants. You didn't know how to react at this point. He stared at you and chuckled a bit.

"What a way to meet again... I wondered if you were to show up again." Valtor spoke. Your eyebrows went to a confused expression. You looked at him and scanned him. He was more powerful clearly. You knew it was all your fault for this.

"I wish I didn't see you in my place. Too bad you aren't the one in the cell." You snipped back. He quickly had an amused face and was clearly angry. You kept eye contact.

"Let me make this clear. I am the one in control and you have a few options as to what happens next." He replied with his dark chuckle. To him, you looked like a kitten against the wall. He liked that.

"Do you think I'm going to beg for mercy for my enemy?'

"You might. Now listen to me." He said and placed his arms behind his back as he smirked at you. "You can either get out of here by willingly joining me... or you can rot in here." He said plainly. You rolled your eyes.

"And what will you have me to if I were to agree?" You asked.

"Depends what I will be feeling at the moment... but possibly becoming my pet, a maid, or many other possibilities. Now choose wisely." He said. He waited for your answer. You narrowed your eyes. You shook your head before speaking.

"I would rather rot in here when joining you so you can do whatever you want." You huffed. He just shrugged.

"Fine with me." He said and walked away. For days you only got a few meals and a few glasses of water. You were mostly left alone. You didn't try to speak to anyone. You just slept, ate, did your business, and laid back down on the bed daydreaming.

You started to get a cough at first but soon it became a sore throat. You didn't say anything and just kept coughing. Soon you were just sleeping and barely moved. Trays were left on the ground. A week passed and you were worse. When you were awake you didn't try to ask for help. At least you wouldn't die at his hands.

You were pushed out of your dream by the cell door opening. You opened your eyes but you couldn't make out who it was. The person lifted you off the bed and carried you out. You soon fell back asleep. You slept for over a week.

You blinked as you started to wake up and turned your head and noticed someone in a chair reading. You realized who it was. Valtor. But why was he here? Where were you? What happened? you were thinking. Valtor looked up.

"How are you feeling?" He asked you before he put the book down standing up and walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. He felt your head. "Hm, no more fever but still pale." He said. You groaned wanting to push him away but found you were still weak.

"Awful... no thanks to you." He narrowed his eyes looking at you.

"I could have let you die but I didn't so be grateful for once." He sneered. You burrowed your eyebrows.

"Why?" You asked him.

"Why should I let you die when you just got here. I have plans to do first." He chuckled. He picked up a glass and placed it at your lips. You took a sip of the water.

"I still hate you but thanks..." You muttered. He only grinned and rubbed your cheek between his fingers.

"You're welcome Pet. Now you are a pet since you are out of your cell which you can easily get up back into." He said. He left no more room for arguing.

You started to feel better and heal after another week. You were walking around. Valtor told you that it was because of coming into the future like this. You hated you knew that was true. He was away at the moment dealing with rebels.

The maids were helping you get dressed for his return. You didn't want to wear a dress but he wanted it. He put fear into you. You were placed into a red dress that went to the middle of your thighs and black heels. You were led to the main area. The throne room. He was already there. He stared you down and had a smile. He motioned you to come forth. Your feet walked on your own. Soon you were in front of him. He hummed in approval.

"Aren't you a good pet behaving." He smiled and petted your head as he stood. You were short compared to him. He grabbed your hand. "We are going somewhere, your friends are quite worried about you. You will be telling them that you are fine. The more you behave the more visits and they stay safe." He said looking down at you. "Understood?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yes.."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes Valtor," you muttered. He nods and made a portal before walking with you by his side into it. You arrived at Alfea. He held your hand tightly. You weren't getting away. Was this a test? He led you to the headmaster's office. Faragonda saw you by his side. She had a bad feeling. After the girls told her what happened she didn't know if you were dead.

"Hello, Faragonda. I figured the young ladies would want to see their friend." He said. You couldn't look Faragonda in the face. She would have had your head if Valtor wasn't right there.

"Valtor, of course, I will call them here, while they chat I have updates on the school." She smiled. You knew you missed a lot but why did everyone listen to him or please him. Valtor nodded.

"Of course." He looked down at you. "Remember to behave." He whispered into your ear. You nodded and kept your head down. As soon as the girls arrived Faragonda and Valtor were off talking in the halls. The girls hugged you. You hugged them back.

"Are you okay?" Bloom asked. You sighed.

"I'm fine. I'm not dead yet." You said shrugging. Stella took note of your face and the paleness.

"Were you sick or something?" Stella asked you. You nodded.

"Only from the time travel. I'm better now." You said. Flora smiled.

"Well, that's a good thing that you are better. But why are you here?" Flora asked.

"Oh, Valtor is letting me visit you all." You replied.

"Letting?" Musa said raising an eyebrow.

"It's nothing. I am being well taken care of." You said trying to get them to stop asking questions. Bloom was checking her phone a lot you noticed. "Boy trouble?" you asked. Bloom looked up and blushed.

"Oh yeah, the boy Sky I'm seeing is on a mission and we have a date tonight," Bloom said. "I am worried he won't show."

"Take it from me, boys can be strange, and very hard to read." You said. "I dated while I was in Alfea and the specialist missions were causing lots of stress between us."

"Did anything ever happen after Alfea?" Flora asked. You shook your head.

"We broke up before graduation." You said. "It was for the best anyways."

Soon Valtor and Faragonda returned as you were telling stories about your time here and all the boy troubles you had. Valtor cleared his throat.

"I hate to cut this reunion short but she needs to take her medicine," Valtor said. It was true. You were still on antibiotics until your body got used to the future. "Let's go." He grabbed your hand as you walked over and portal led you both out of there. He chuckled.

"Good job, pet." He said you took your medicine and just nodded.

#winx valtor #valtor x reader #valtor #winxclub #winx club #winx bloom #winx stella #winx aisha #winx flora #winx musa

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liaa--qb · 7 months ago

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why sudden hate on darklinas if team green stans rha*nicent, rhaegon ? Atleast Darklina was meant to be canon

Oh God🤦🏻‍♀️ !!!!!! Who is hating darklinas... moreover just bcz I mentioned them once😭 ( btw it was hated enough by it's author herself🤣 I can very much say that after wasting my time grisha books. sorry not sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Before commenting anything some of u really need to read with open eyes n brain instead of ass.

I never hated darklinas or Darkling. I ship them too. Atleast book or whole story should be good enough to even hate or like any character first of all which it never had😑. Darklina is like very much any problematic random Ya bad guy and good girl silly ships u see on daily basis. Nothing more bad than any other Ya ships.

( LB n SJM are not even good writer. I don't like their work at all. Just over hyped to me. Honestly I still think how snb was not cancelled just after S1. If u have problem wf one of my post which wasn't even about them🤷🏻‍♀️ it's ur delulu headache buddy. I don't even involve with them much someone just asked me including Darkling's name that's y I replied... Btw I knew this would happen, bc If someone points one bad thing, all of them will cry their ass out.)

the point was something else n ur question is also wrong. Problematic has nothing to do with canon or non canon for ur info. Majority of YA canon ships are problematic but you can like whatever the f u want.

I never said that Rhaenicent is any healthy ship. Rhaenicent, Daemyra, alysmond , helaegon n majority of ships in hotd are problematic. It's just their Stans fighting is like one idiot jumping on another idiot.That's what I am always mentioning. That's just funny and extremely stupid to like one problematic ship or character n attacking on Stans of other problematic ships n characters.

Some of them shamelessly fight as if their life depends on it. It's really dumb honestly 😂. No one is stopping them btw they can do the heck they want to but also they should not even have problem if someone is pointing out their silliness that's it🤷🏻‍♀️. It's a free fandom ! Just bcz I mentioned some of TB Stans hyporcrisy once , idiots thought I am team green when I am srsly far away from this nursery kid color fight

Same way many of green stans also developed this stupid habit of making their characters as pure Angels just because of the changes done by the show itself which is rubbish instead of that they should really go for better storyline for every character. " Them saying no one should support TB after BnC is....😑" Like y ? Not saying that it was bad but bad things were done from both sides. Aemond n Daeron would have done way worse with Jace n strong boys if all their parents were dead honestly.

just like Alicent's anger on Aemond losing an eye was absolutely correct that same way Rhaenyra's anger was also justified, so would Helaena's anger as she and her children were having no fault in all of this

You can like the villian and their reasons for becoming the villain but I would not say they didn't deserve their death or punishment n I would not give any apology reasons ' like no he wasn't the bad guy or he wasn't a villian'. That's what I am always pointing but logic and GOT/FNB die hard Stans are never at same place 🤡

And regarding ur take one darkling or Darklina, I don't hate Darkling but ye he's not among my fav villians or any good written at all. Not only him, I don't like any single character from that book.

If I love Homelander, Klaus, soldier boy, Tom riddle, Rafe, Billy, Jerome, Roose bolton, Euron Greyjoy.., do you really think I would be anti Darkling or care fr him enough 😂 like these r just some tv screen villains I like but if I started talking about my actual favourite bad guys from Grim dark fantasy novels like Jorg ancrath n many more, Darkling would look like little twink infront of them😭

so pls think.. using your brain is not a big deal 🙏🏻

#house of dragons #hotd fandom #hotd discussion #hotd discourse #daemyra #rhaenicent #alysmond #shadow and bone #darklina #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryan #alicent hightower #aemon targaryen #aegon the second #aegon targaryen

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whatsyaname · 11 months ago

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Hi.

I can't reveal who i am but i used to be a ex moot of tee (@/saetoru) and i don’t care if this seems cowardly to make a page just to call her out. after seeing lots of people share their experiences with tee i’d like to also add and show some of the stuff she’s done to remind people she’s not as angelic as she makes herself out to be.

me and tee weren’t close as she was with her little clique (they know who they are) and other people but the main reason we aren’t moots anymore is because i broke the mutual. after seeing a callout post about her way back in oct. 2023 with other people’s stories in the thread of reblogs / link (i’m sure you guys saw)

i simply didn’t wanna be associated with someone like that. i was just confused why tee was acting like it wasn’t her fault. she said she doesn’t have to provide proof because she doesn’t owe anyone anything when that doesn’t make sense. because if you’re gonna accuse someone, always provide proof otherwise it’s safe to assume you’re lying.

this was Tee’s response back in october to her being called out by one of her old moots also, she deleted this a few days before she returned to make it seem like nothing happened but oh it did. i’m putting this here for people to see again (if you already haven’t) because just look at this.

this is what a narcissistic manipulator sounds like!

the biggest thing that made me scratch my head was for her to immediately bring up past drama to redirect the situation and make herself seem like the good person, and address the other party as a “white girl who blackfishes,” and she tried taking the attention off her to bring up palestine.

are you serious? if she so called “blackfished” why were you supporting/defending her in the first place? shouldn’t you be in the wrong too? the party she was talking about didn’t even blackfish, from what i can recall it was a simple tan so again, this was Tee reaching and blowing things way out of proportion.

she keeps mentioning some random bnha blog but never gives the @ so she’s probably lying. how are you gonna accuse someone of plagiarism then your only evidence is “oh me and my moots saw the whole thing, so you know i’m not lying.” girl bffr. and for her to even say something as childish and stupid as “she’s stolen ppl’s skin tones and she’s stolen their ideas. not much to left to take besides your identity at that!”

you and i both read that right? this is a supposed 20+ year old, saying something as kiddish as that. she even exposed the persons @ in the tags and why did she do that? so she can make her thousands of followers / anons spam their inbox with threats, derogatory names, and literally anything else. and she has the nerve to say she’s not enabling that kind of behavior with her audience. she’s abusing her following and it’s showing.

and for her to sit there and say it’s not her fault for being in her own space and name dropping people without actually name dropping them is just absurd. subposting is the lowest of the low. If you’re gonna talk shit at least put the url while you’re at it. people can tell who you’re talking about even if you’re being discrete.

She has a private blog called @/clorindes where she uses it to "vent" and bash writers and laugh it off with her moots and even followers.

i know of this particular blog because like many others, if you followed tee that blog (her private) would appear in ‘blogs like…’ or ‘recommended to follow.’ after tee got called out, she privated it but it’s still up.

(i recommend blocking that blog) because i’m sure she’ll activate it again once things settle. i hope that’s not the case because how many drama, discourse posts, call outs does it take for her to fully leave this platform? this is chronically online mentality at its finest.

it’s been an ongoing rumor that tee has this tumblr 'burn book' to blacklist writers on this platform and it’s proven to be true. some of tees even own mutuals are in there, and its just embarrassing. you have to constantly remind yourself this is a 20+ y/o person acting like this, out of all platforms, tumblr…

i remember a while back tee drove off a few blogs just for having the same theme concepts as her. (is that even a thing?) like tee used to have instagram themes i think, yet when she found other blogs having the same, she’d send her thousands of anons to harass that person, and be so butthurt over a theme.

not gonna lie, her themes are generically basic and doesn’t even look like it takes much effort. so what is there to copy. i’m not saying copying themes are good and okay, but she takes things too far. i can see if it’s writing, but a theme or a layout? i just find it so mind boggling people stick by her side and support her still.

from her old blog she’d always say sneaky comments like these and laugh it up with her mutuals in the comments. it’s really…something, because why do you care what those writers do? she reeks of jealousy and envy, literally look at her tone.

“we all know yall just want the notes and numbers.” um, yeah? everyone wants recognition on their work, it feels good to know your works being appreciated. and her jab at shading writers who write half paragraphs was so unnecessary. because again, why do you care? how are those writers hyping each other up seen as ‘shady’ or ‘fishy’ behavior? just say you’re jealous and go.

she acts like she doesn’t do the exact same thing with her cult of friends on tumblr, spamming the tags with wtv.

miss tee, flat out you’re a nobody.

you have no right to judge how someone write. who cares if you have 30k+ followers on this old ass site. congrats ….i guess? in the real world, you’re just a miserable person who likes torturing people online.

she has this thing of coming after upcoming big blogs, if i’m not mistaken, the most recent one was a known jjk writer, kazu _____ another was a popular multi account munson____, and there were multiple others i’m sure. her following count boosts her ego a lot, that i can see. and she thinks it’s okay to say whatever and not get held accountable. well now she is.

notice how she came back to tumblr after a two month hiatus, turned anons on then back off. and shes been inactive for a few days. she’s running away from the drama because she knows exactly it’s no one’s fault but hers.

if you look through the long thread i linked earlier, actually read through the reblogs. if multiple various ppl are coming out to share their experiences (with receipts) chances are you should be able to tell who’s lying! she needs to be stopped and ran off the app, not those blogs who didn’t do anything. tee’s been involved with drama for a long time like i said before, way back in her tokyo rev/hq era in her @/hanmas era. so about three to four years ago.

it’s been said tee and her mutuals send anons to harass other writers and i wouldn’t be surprised if that’s true.

again, it’s a shame you have to remind yourself this is a grown woman in her twenties acting like this on tumblr. it’s sickening and she needs to grow up, and get the hell off this platform before she drives anyone else off.

thats all! thank you for reading

#saetoru #Hope she sees this too.#stop supporting her #her moots and followers who ignore her are JUST as bad as her #she’s been in drama since 2021 (her tokrev era)#get a grip this is tumblr dot com #She needs a reality check and it should have been her ran off the app instead of those innocent blogs #to people who lost their blogs to her I’m so sorry #I hope you all are at peace.

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lafleshlumpeater · 2 years ago

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・❥・ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜱᴀᴠɪɴ' ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ, ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ

Out of all of the sad, stylish, lonely men I have liked which one did you ship me w most and why DETAILED PLEASE SINCE YOU WANT DETAILS FROM ME SO BAD.

・❥・ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜱᴀᴠɪɴ' ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ, ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ

ˢᵉⁿᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵉⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵖʳᵉᶠ, ᵃ ᶠᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁽ᵃ ᶠᵘⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ, ᵃ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ, ᵉᵗᶜ⁾ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱ'ˡˡ ˢʰⁱᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ!!

remus lupin masterlist

i don't think you understood what i was asking for. but okay since anything you tell me i'd probably know anyways

moony ofc.

(all pictures from pinterest)

he's literally the best and i feel like you two would vive i mean vibe so much. for trope it's 100 percent be best friends to lovers bc i love that trope. and it's so appropriate for him (like i don't think you can see him falling in love with a girl from going on a blind date or smth). like you two would just click and then just be bffs. you would read together, do auror tings together, compete in promotions, like do everything together.

the moment he realised he was in love with you was when you got a magical tattoo which counted down the days until the full moon and on the night of the full moon it reads "moony". when you showed him, that was the moment he knew. little did he know, your excuse for getting it in the first place ("i always forget how many days are left until the transformation, this makes it easier") was actually because you always wanted a part of him to always be with you (doing this one bc ik you like adult moony better)

or if we're talking school years, then definitely academic rivals to lovers. like he'd be like "ok just bc she's slytherin doesn't mean she's bad" blah blah but then one day you get 100 percent on a test and he gets 98. and he's so. livid. bc 1. he's never gotten 100 percent before and 2. you were so smug that you got higher than remus lupin, the previous smartest student in the year. ever since you found out how much you could annoy him with even the smallest jibes, you took every opportunity to do so. slughorn said his potion was 'absolutely perfect'? whoops, how did those peppermint sprigs get in there? overheard him talking to someone about how much he wanted to read a book? the next day, coincidentally, you were reading the exact same book, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

one time, the latter occurred with a book about lycanthropy. you assumed he'd wanted it for an assignment, and you borrowing it from the library was sure to make him unable to complete it. you began to read, as you saw him make his way over to you.

"give that to me," he demanded.

you smirked, ever amused to get a rise out of him. "why should i?" you looked up at him innocently. "not my fault i got it from the library before you."

he growled and rolled his eyes, and only then did you notice the dark circles around his eyes, making him resemble a panda. "just give it. i'm honestly not bothered to do this today."

"yeah? why should i do that?"

he snapped, having had enough, the exhaustion and frustration from last night channelled into his words. "because i'm a fucking werewolf and the transformations are fucking horrible because my joints get twisted all out of place if you didn't know, and some of them won't even go back in place properly and because of that my hip fucking hurts and the scratches on my chest are probably bleeding right now because i didn't leave the hospital wing with madam pomfrey's permission because last night was a full moon and i didn't want that stupid creep snape to get even more suspicious than he already is, and i need that stupid book to help me and fucking tell everyone for all i care because i'm sick and tired of all this crap and i'd rather get kicked out of this stupid school sooner rather than later. thanks for understanding," he ranted, punctuating it with sarcasm at the end as he grabbed the book from your limp hands.

as a slytherin, you had a weird knack for just knowing when people were lying. and from the raw sincerity in lupin's words, you knew he was speaking the truth.

and you just sat there, in shock, very unlike yourself as you took it all in.

back in the boys' dorm, remus was panicking.

"lily, i told her. i snapped and told her everything, she hates me, she's gonna tell snape and i'm gonna have to leave this god damned school and-" he sighed, hating the fact that tears of anger directed at himself were pricking at the back of his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

lily stroked his back comfortingly. "remus, i'm sure she won't tell a soul. she may seem to hate you, but honestly i don't think she does. and i don't think you do either."

"i- what are you on about?" remus questioned. lily smiled, her dimples deepening.

"whenever other girls annoy you, you don't give a single damn. but with her... she didn't even intentionally annoy you, and you were so pissed off when she got that 100.

"as for her... i know her well, and she's no attention- seeker. but she likes your attention, rem, and that's why she keeps irritating you. she likes getting a rise out of you."

remus shook his head.

"she hates me lily," he mumbled, slightly forlorn, and tried not to think about how he sort of liked how your eyes flashed mischievously when you ruined his potions, or how lily's words had suddenly made him realise how much he replayed your encounters in his head when he was trying to sleep at night.

you don't know why, but after that you began to be more lenient on him. just him. not stupid potter or his stupid best mate black or the pettigrew boy, just lupin.

it isn't an honourable thing to do, to give someone shit when they're already feeling it, you told yourself. which arse of a person makes things harder for a person when they're already going through so much?

you also decided to keep his secret. all whilst telling yourself:

just to spite him. just to prove him wrong, that i can keep a secret. that not all slytherins are the same.

you also found yourself becoming no kinder to snape, and began to notice how irritating and nosey he actually was. all coincidental, of course.

a month later, remus found a note addressed to "Lupin," in small cursive with a small vial in his bag at dinner after potions. curiously, he opened the note and:

"Lupin,

For the full moon tonight. It should help."

Nothing more.

And when remus scanned the great hall in half suspicion and half wonder to look for his culprit, his usual sharp vision missed the way your eyes flickered from his hands back down to your plate.

okay ngl i got very carried away with this but i kinda like how it turned out but it is a tad rusty

taglist: @kimorna @quickslvxrr

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

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mirkwoodshewolf · 2 years ago

Text

Never break an oath; Bucky Barnes x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Okay this was a long time in the waiting but I finally got the inspiration to do this request that was in my inbox for awhile. @littlesister20001 hope you enjoy this and like it.

Now FAIR WARNING!! The reader is autistic and there are MANY levels of autism and the way I went with was putting the reader somewhere on the the high-function autism scale. Also EVERYONE with high-functioning autism act and behave differently, and I know NO ONE on the high function (my younger cousin is on the low spectrum autism) and this is what I chose after doing some research on high-spectrum autism so if there is ANY HATE directed at me, you WILL be blocked or I will just take this fic down.

That being said, I hope you all still enjoy this fic.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@austynparksandpizza

@queen-paladin

@queensdivas

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

_______________________________________________________

I was currently reading my latest book on constellations and galaxies that Rocket had given to me on their last visit here to earth. Apparently according to him, “Terran scientists don’t know jack-shit about what’s really out there”. So while he and the rest of the Guardians were out refurbishing a place called Knowhere, he managed to find this book and he thought he’d give it to me. And I’ve been glued to it ever since.

“So this is where you’ve been.” I perked up and immediately ran up and hugged Bucky as he caught me.

“I thought you’d be gone on that mission with Sam and Joaquin for another two days?”

“We finished early.”

“You didn’t jump out of another plane with no parachute again did you?”

“I can’t believe Sam showed you that video. I told him to delete it from his stupid bird robot.”

“First of all Redwing ain’t stupid. Second of all, you were the one who made the decision to jump freestyle out the plane. Not my fault you kept smashing into trees.” Sam said as he came up and grabbed himself a cup of OJ. “And to answer your question little miss, yes he did. I’ll send you the video later.” I laughed.

“Don’t you have someone else you can ignore, Captain?” Bucky said turning to Sam annoyed.

“No. I bother you from 12-6pm. That’s my schedule.” Sam shrugged as he took a sip of his drink before leaving.

“I swear to god he’s annoying.”

“Stop it, you love him.”

“We work together, we’re not friends just co-workers.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night Sergeant.” I said sitting back down.

“Okay so what have you been doing since we left? Sitting here reading your books Belle?” I playfully shoved him as he took a seat next to me.

“You know I hate being called her right.”

“You’re right sorry. I meant Hermione Granger.”

“That’s even worse! Stop!”

“Okay, okay, okay. But seriously was all you did was sit here and read.”

“Of course not silly! The Guardians came for a visit yesterday and I hung out with them. Got to see all their new tech they got for us to use against any oncoming future attacks from the Big Three.”

“I also can’t believe Sam taught you that as well.”

“Buck, come on. I’m not stupid, I’ve followed every fight you guys have done going back to yours and Steve Roger’s back in world war 2.”

“Okay stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night techie.” He said throwing my words back at me. I shoved him harder (which really didn’t do anything except make him laugh).

“Anyways, that’s when Rocket also gave me this book.” I showed to him titled: “THE FAR REACHES OF YOUR GALAXY; The truth about the stars”.

“Tell me that rodent didn’t steal anything of mine while he was here.”

“You still harboring a grudge against him for taking your arm. You know it was Nebula that had done that and be thankful she took it when you were asleep.”

“That’s still not okay. Do you know how pissed Shuri was at me for letting Wakandan tech go into outer space?”

“I will give you that but at least you told her who it was that got it.”

“But also she’s not quite sure how a raccoon can understand Wakandan technology and building.”

“He’s not a raccoon.”

“Really cause I’ve seen a lot of them and he definitely looked like a raccoon to me.” I rolled my eyes. “So what is in that book anyway?”

“The truth about the stars. It says it right on the title Bucky is your sight gone too?”

“More old man jokes, one thing I enjoyed being away from.”

“Just speaking truth Buck.” He nodded sarcastically before suddenly grabbing me in a headlock before giving my a hard noogie. “GAH!! ENOUGH STOP IT!!”

“Take back the old man comment and I will squirt.”

“Okay you’re not old now stop!” he released me as I tried to fix my hair. “Do you know how hard it took me to do my hair today? I accidentally forgot to wash my hair after using the pool and my hair was a bitch to brush this morning.”

“I’m sorry. How bout I make it up to you by letting me take you out to the science con that’s coming this weekend?”

“You mean the one where physicist Dr. Bernadette Rostenkowski and neuroscientist Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler are speaking at?”

“Yeah. You and me.”

“Oh Bucky thank you! Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!” I said hugging him so tight. He hugged me back and said,

“You should really thank Shuri. She’s actually gonna be a panelist Friday and Saturday so she’s the one who scored us the tickets.”

“Oh this is gonna be so much fun. I’m already bursting at the seams!”

“Okay easy there kiddo. Don’t want you blowing a circuit just yet.”

“Sorry I just—I’m so excited. Plus it—it’s the first time since you left that we really got to hang out together. I missed you Bucky.” He softly smiled and said as he gently ruffled my hair once more.

“I missed you too squirt.” He brought me into a one armed hug before giving me a soft kiss to my forehead as I cuddled close into his chest. “So what interesting facts do the people in outer space say about our galaxy?”

“Well I’m glad you asked, first off did you know that…..” I then opened to the first page I had bookmarked and shared with him several facts that I never knew or what we had been wrong about.

That’s the thing I love best about Bucky. Whenever I tend to go off on my factual ramblings, or want to overshare certain events or facts, he listens. He doesn’t interrupt, complain, or pretend to listen (I’ve always hated when people do that to me). He gets me, and that’s why I’ve always loved Bucky more than any member on the team.

The next morning, I had gotten packed up and ready to go to the convention. Well we were actually gonna take a flight to LA and take a day just to sight-see before the con would start Friday. After packing my last suitcase I pulled up the website on my phone and found the schedule they had posted.

“Knock, knock, you ready to head to the airport?” I heard Bucky’s voice say.

“You betcha. And I’ve already got our schedule all planned out. On Friday there’s a seminar on Nano-technology and then Shuri’s panel about how Vibranium can make life easier. And after we get some lunch you can see Dr. Farrah Fowler talk about women and science along with Dr. Rostenkowski.”

“Sounds like a full day for Friday. What about the rest of the con?”

“I can do that when we get on the plane. No better thing to do on an airplane than get some work done.”

“I would agree to that. C’mon I’ve got our ride waiting for us downstairs.” I grabbed my bags and we proceeded down the elevator when running up to us was Joaquin Torres.

“Barnes! Sergeant Barnes! Thank god I caught you. We need you for this mission now!” he said urgently.

“What mission? We completed our mission early.” Bucky said.

“We thought so too sir but we’ve picked up another signal from a few remaining members of the Flagsmashers. We really need your help on this.” Bucky looked between me and him and he told Joaquin.

“Torres, I’m sorry but you gotta get someone else to—”

“I know we would ask anyone else to back us up but anyone who could is unavailable to do so. Please Sergeant Barnes, we need your help.”

“NO!!” I cried out. The two men looked at me.

This wasn’t supposed to happen! He already had to be away from me for six weeks trying to capture the remaining members of the Flagsmashers and that was the longest he had been away from me. His next mission wouldn’t be until at least a couple months if not 3 weeks!

He shouldn’t go he doesn’t need to go! He promised me we’d go to the science con together and damnit I want us to go together!

“Find someone else to go because he’s not going with you!” I snapped.

“(Y/n), I know this is difficult for you to understand, but—”

“DON’T TALK DOWN TO ME!! I UNDERSTAND COMPLETELY! I know Bucky’s mission schedule because Sam has told me about it! And if there were a surprise he’d warn me ahead of time about it! Bucky already made plans with me so find someone else to go on the mission because you’re taking away MY ONLY FRIEND AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!!!” I slammed my bags down on the floor and took off running.

I ended up back in my room and slammed the door shut with a loud bang. My breathing became constricted as I collapsed to my bed and wept into my pillows as I tightly gripped onto my sheets. A knock was soon heard at my door.

‘(Y/n)? Can we talk?’

“Go away.” I grumbled before getting under my covers.

‘Not gonna happen squirt. You know how stubborn we old folks can be.’ He tried to joke which honestly did get me to quirk up a smile. ‘C’mon kid, don’t make me bust down the door or break it off its hinges again like last time.’ I lay there for a moment before reaching for my phone and opened the door for him.

I felt the bed dip near my legs and he asked me.

“You doing okay breathing wise?”

“My chest still slightly hurts but at least I’m not hyperventilating like my last meltdown.”

“Yeah that was pretty scary.” He admitted. “Why don’t you come out from under those covers, you know there ain’t enough oxygen when you’re under something.”

“It’s actually carbon dioxide we breathe in, and oxygen comes out.” I said getting my head out from the blanket.

“Right of course. Silly me.” I softly scoffed before fiddling with the ends of my hair. “You know Joaquin is still trying to learn the ropes.”

“I know. But he shouldn’t have said I don’t understand things. I hate it when people use my disability against me.”

“He wasn’t trying to. No one does, and even if we do you end up proving them wrong with a savage comeback.”

“Still he shouldn’t have said it.” I grumbled.

“I’ll get him to apologize to you later.”

“You mean when you come back from your mission?” I said laying back down and turned away from him. I heard his sigh as he said.

“That’s actually what I came up here to talk to you about.”

“Bucky……” I now sighed deeply. “I know I still have to get used to sudden changes in life. Because that’s what life is, but I struggle with understanding that. Why do we have to have sudden changes to our lives without thoroughly planning them out? Or when you make plans with someone why does something have to interfere with them or they cancel last minute?”

“Again kid, that’s life. Doesn’t mean we have to like it, all we can do is just—roll with the punches. Or how you kids say go with the flow.” He said the last part like he was trying to sound cool.

“So you are going to go on the mission?”

“Going off against super soldiers, they’re gonna need a super soldier on their side.” I let out a soft whine.

“I just got you back after a whole month and now I’m losing you again. Ever since the Flagsmashers have risen back up, I worry about you Bucky. Sure you’re a super soldier but they are 20 super soldiers. 20 easily overpowers one.”

“You really count me out just like that?”

“Now you’re making me sound like a negative doubter.” I said sitting back up and glared at him.

“I know you’re not a negative doubter, you’re just stating facts and I know. 20 to 1 is not a fair fight but you’re forgetting one thing squirt. I’m Bucky Barnes, I can handle myself. You don’t need to worry about me, okay?”

“It’s hard not to. What I said back there was true. You’re my old friend here.”

“What about Sam?”

“Sam’s cool but there are things that he sometimes doesn’t get when it comes to my autism. That or with him being the new Captain America, he’s too busy to hang out. And don’t tell him this but—you are honestly cooler than him.”

“FINALLY! Thank you. Someone who finally admits it.”

“I think I wanna take it back now.” I teased.

“No, no, no you can’t retract it back now. It’s too late.” I shoved him playfully and he nudged me back. “How about this, when I come back, we take a whole month off of work, just you and me. Road trip even.”

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep Buck.”

“Well good thing this isn’t a promise.” I looked at him confused. “It’s an oath. And everyone knows that while a promise can be broken, an oath never can. What do you say squirt, you and me out on the open road. Deal?” he extended his hand out to me. After a minute between looking at him and his hand, I took it and we shook on it.

“I’ll hold you to that oath.”

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