#the ideal of being Gifted one like yeah i Will take this around with me then thank you

[the-roo-too]

candy -> myoui mina ver

aka the fluff alphabet

admiration (what does she absolutely adore about you)- mina loves how much you love her group. you’re twice biggest defender fr. knows all the cheers by heart and uses twice songs as your ringtone lol

body (what’s her favourite body part of yours)- in my prime i read my fair share of ice queen mina fanfiction, so i’ll say hands! cause she can look all elegant and fancy and intimidating while STILL holding her gf’s hand hihi

cuddling (how she likes to cuddle)- i think cuddling happens naturally when you two are sitting next to each other on the couch for example? like watching a movie and sitting at an arm’s length turns into you half sitting on her lap while she’s half asleep lol

dates (what’s her ideal date)- i’m thinking very romantic, but simplistic. once in a while you get off work earlier than mina and come home to cook you two a yummy, candlelit dinner. that’s more than enough for her

emotions (how does she express her emotions around you)- remember when i said ice queen… yeah. but only at first! its like, you asked her out and she agreed but she was so excited for the date and tried to hard to be composed she actually freaked you out 💀

family (does she want one)- i’m gonna say yes. mina feels like the type of person who would want to settle down eventually and have a mini-me running around

gifts (what about gift giving)- mina is rich ok. rich parents, one of the most successful groups in korea… she gives you gifts casually, thinking they’re just a small thing that reminded her of you while it’s an sickeningly important watch or something lol

holding hands (does she like to hold hands)- as i said before, yes. i think she also likes to drag you around in certain situations. if you’re taking too much with one of her members for example, and not giving her enough attention, she’ll subtly grab your hand and drag you away

injuries (what would she do if you got hurt)- burn down whatever hurt you. and i lean BURN. she’s serious about her baby getting hurt

jokes (does she like to joke around)- yes BUT, you almost never expect it. mina doesn’t feel like the type to pull pranks so when she makes a harmless joke or says something ironically you usually think she’s being serious 😭

kisses (how does she like to kiss you)- gentle and calm. mindful and demure. my girl has all of the time in the world ok

love (what’s her love language)- gift giving! pushing the ice queen trope, i think mina is aware people see her as colder or more closed off so she’s actually scared you’ll think she doesn’t like you because she isn’t being as affectionate. in return, she’ll spoil you rotten. every thing that reminds her of you, even the tiniest bit, she gets it.

memory (what’s her favourite memory together)- i’ll say introducing you to her members. because they’re such a big part of her life, she waits with it until she thinks you’re really the one. her parents have met you before twice lol. anyways, the small twinkle in your eyes as you chatted shyly with her members, holding her pinky with your for mental support—that’s her core memory

nighttime (how does sleeping with her look like)- you two just sleep on your assigned sides of the bed. one way or another you’ll get entangled during the night, but neither you nor mina mind falling asleep while laying side by side.

oddity (what’s one quirky thing about her)- i think ballet is very quirky. years of practice, she subtly pokes your side every time you’re not standing straight. she just doesn’t want you to get back aches tho :((

pet names (what does she like to call you)- the most cute, tooth rotting names and i’m not even joking.

quality time (how does she like to spend time with you)- you’re playing minecraft and/or animal crossing with her, end of discussion

rush (does she rush into things)- nope. as i said before, she has to get used to you. you were the one to ask her out so she has to get to know you on that level now, then get to know the other you while you slowly warm up to her too

secrets (how open is she with you)- not very open. through your relationship, she slowly unravels her secrets to you, but it takes time and you have to be patient with her.

time (how long did it take her to confess)- you asked her out, so there’s that. but confess her love? man i’m gonna say a couple years lol

upset (what’s her reaction when you’re upset)- if you’re upset after a fight, she’s upset too and then she just apologises the next day, tired of sleeping in bed without you. other than that, she’ll be surprised and try to immediately console you

visibility (is she afraid of the public opinion)- not really. if you’re in love, she doesn’t see your relationship as something the public has a say in

warrior (how often do you fight)- only when you’re tired after work. and it’s stupid stuff too. you placed your shoes on the spot she usually uses so you two banter about it for two minutes until you’re both in bed, laughing about how stupid that was

x-ray (is she able to read you)- yes! someone has to bffr. mina knows you like the back of her hand lol

yes (how would she propose to you)- remember the dates when you come home early and cook dinner? she takes a day free and when you get home early for your date, she surprises you by taking you out to a fancy restaurant instead. she’s so nervous too 😭 but you’ll say yes, right?

zen (what makes her feel calm)- playing games with you! stressed mina will absolutely drag you to your pc room (because you do have that) and sit you down with her to build a cute house in minecraft

part of [the fluff series]

[sakuralovespossums]

JJK Teachers x Autistic Student Reader (Platonic)

Satoru Gojo 🩵

It’s obvious that jujutsu society still lives by old fashioned and bigoted ideals (ie. hating women and non-sorcerers) so it wouldn’t surprise me if they were also ableist.

As a result, it can be pretty challenging being a neurodivergent sorcerer student without options for accommodations or counseling, as if being a sorcerer student itself wasn’t hard enough.

Still, you tried your best to mask your autism and keep up with your peers the best you could.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Gojo though (the guy sees through everything, c’mon)

He would quickly take notice of your behavior and habits (stimming, disassociation, difficulty grasping social queues)

He suspects that you may be on the spectrum and looks into your student files to confirm. Once he’s proven right, he decides to do some research on it himself so that he can better understand and help you.

One day after class, Gojo calls you to stay for a minute so you guys can talk.

“Hey y/n! Mind if we chat for a bit? It’ll only be a minute!”

You feel nervous as you walk towards him, hoping you didn’t do anything wrong.

“Listen, I know we’re not exactly in the same boat, but I know what it’s like to mask around others all the time.” He says while pulling his eye mask.

He tells you he gets feeling different from everyone and having to put on a persona to make them like you.

“Just know that you don’t have to wear it around me. I’m your teacher and I wanna get to know the real y/n. Course, it’s up to you though. I’m not pushing.”

He then tells you that he’ll make the accommodations you need to help make your classroom experience less stressful.

And if any of those old geazers complain about it, they’ll have to take it to him.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until he hands you a napkin with your favorite character printed on it.

It’s a gift he got for you from his recent mission.

You happily accept it and wipe your tears away before embracing him in a tight hug. He returns the hug with one arm as he looks down at you with a genuine smile.

He’s glad he could reach out to you and make you feel safe around him.

Since then, Gojo takes more note of your autism and accommodates to it however he can.

You’d think he wouldn’t care with how……insensitive he can be, but he does acknowledge the impact mental health can have on people. He couldn’t be there for Suguru, but he’ll try to be there for you.

He asks you what kind of foods you like/don’t like before he leaves for his missions, so that he knows what kind of snacks to bring back for you.

Makes sure you understand the instructions and materials in class. He’ll check on you privately, just in case you don’t want him asking you in front of the other students.

Will still make you the butt of some of his jokes (but it’s never to make fun of your autism).

He just finds your difficulty with grasping his sarcastic humor too good an opportunity to not poke fun at.

Can still come off as insensitive sometimes (it’s Gojo) but is trying his best. Just let him know when he’s said/done something to upset you and he’ll stop.

Sometimes when it’s just you two, he’ll listen to you explain your current special interests.

Imagine him listening to you talk about your favorite show on the phone while fighting a special grade curse.

“Mmhmm, yeah? Hold on a sec y/n.” He finishes killing off the giant curse in front of him. “Sorry about that, you were saying?”

He knows what it’s like to be easily overstimulated since his six eyes enhance all his senses. He also gets migraines a lot because of it, just like you.

If you have/had a Digimon hyper fixation, you’re his #1 student now. He will test you on your Digimon knowledge. You’ll both get lost in back-and-forth conversations about the lore, show, and games. If he deems you a worthy fan, he’ll even let you play his old Digimon games.

The highest form of honor you could receive from him.

When you and your class are out in town and enter a crowded area, if you feel extremely overwhelmed, Gojo will teleport you out of there to a place with less people.

Either that or he’ll grab you and turn on his infinity, giving you space from the bumping crowd of bodies around you.

If you’re going through a burnout and need to be away from people for a bit, he’ll understand and probably leave a candy outside your door.

He knows you need extra help and accommodations with your disability, but he never treats you differently from his other students and knows you’re tough enough to handle whatever’s thrown at you.

You are a sorcerer, after all.

He wants to guide the next generation of stronger sorcerers where no one gets left behind, including those like you.

“Gojo-sensei, why are you staring at that corner?”

“Just trying to figure out why you’re always staring at it during class. What makes it more interesting than me?”

“Sensei!!”

:))

Nanami Kento 🥖

He also quickly notices your autism and makes sure you feel comfortable unmasking around him.

He does NOT tolerate discrimination/unfair treatment of any kind towards people based on their disabilities.

I imagine one of his coworkers at his old accounting job was on the spectrum and understood how challenging it could be for them. So he would try to help them however he could.

Because of this, he has more personal experience under his belt to better understand how to work with you.

He thinks it’s shit how a lot of society and the education system (both in and out of jujutsu society) are so unaccommodating to people with physical/mental health needs.

If you have a hyper fixation with bread and/or cooking, he’ll gladly listen to you talk about it however long you want while donning his usual stoic expression.

Don’t worry, he’s not bored or annoyed. As a fellow culinary lover himself, he’s genuinely interested in listening to you talk and will engage in the conversation.

The way you enthusiastically talk about your interests reminds him a bit of Haibara.

He admires your attention to detail and strong sense of empathy towards people, animals, and inanimate objects.

His low voice is very calming to you.

If you follow a specific schedule and/or organized, he’ll admire that too since he also hates falling behind schedule.

If you are spacing out during an important briefing about a mission, he’ll say your name to get your attention or gently pat your shoulder.

“L/n-san…”

“Oh, sorry!”

“That’s alright. Do you want me to repeat what I just said?”

If you’re in a dissociative episode, he’ll calmly ask you what’s bothering you and help you work through it however he can.

If you’re going through a burnout and need to be alone for a while, he’ll understand and give you as much space as you need.

He might knock on your door to give you a small packaged pastry. He hopes it helps.

He understands you may have some internalized ableism, so he makes sure to speak positively of your autism to help you build your confidence.

“L/n-san, why do you have a coat with you when it’s March?”

“Oh, well it was pretty cold this morning. And…well…it’s not anymore but…..”

“I see. That’s a rather smart decision on your part.”

“Really?”

“It means you’re always well prepared for anything. That’s an important skill to have as a sorcerer.”

“Thanks, Nanami-sensei.”

“………………….so can I try on your gogg—”

“No”

[kinardsevan]

30 days of fluff challenge: day fifteen

(yeah I took yesterday off. July has 31 days lol)

"buying each other a book"

Evan bounces on his heels in front of Tommy as he holds the bag in his hands. They’d gone on a bookstore date (at two different stores because there was no way Evan would’ve refrained from cheating if they hadn’t) and now that they were back home, he didn’t know what he was more excited for: what Tommy was going to give him, or what he had picked out for Tommy.

For him, it had been a process. He knew Tommy liked machinery, but buying a book about car engines or helicopters felt too easy. It also felt too easy to go into the romance section and find something that would feed his interests in romantic comedies. So instead, Evan had found himself in the poetry section, flipping through books until he found one that he felt met the same ideals that he could relate to. After all, it was supposed to be a gift, right? Something that told Tommy that he was thinking about him? 

“You really can’t hold on to gifts for even a second, can you,” Tommy teases as he settles his bag on the table. 

Evan shakes his head, completely unabashed with the smile on his face. “Not with you,” he mutters back. 

Tommy tilts his head at him, a fond smile crossing his face before he leans across the space and kisses Evan softly. Evan sighs into it, lifts his free hand to Tommy’s shoulder, holding him close for a moment before they part back into their spaces. 

“Okay, well me first,” Tommy says when he’s managed to reign his thoughts back in. He nudges his bag forward on the table. “I, uh, I wasn’t sure what to get, but I found this and thought you might be interested.” 

Evan settles his own bag on the table and reaches for Tommy’s, pulling the stuffed tissue paper out. He pulls the book out afterwards, flipping it over and gazing at the summary. 

“I know you like reading about self-help and relationships,” Tommy says nervously. 

Evan shakes his head, looking back up at him a moment later with a smile still on his face. “No, this looks good. I want to read it.” 

Tommy nods then, albeit a bit nervously. 

Evan sets the book down after a moment of flipping through it, and reaches for the bag he brought. He presents it to Tommy like an offering. 

“I went a little off-script,” he admits, watching nervously as his boyfriend takes the bag and peers inside of it. After a tick, he reaches into the bag and pulls the book out, looking at the cover. It’s black and white with a line drawing on it, clearly not giving much more in the way of what the book is about. 

“I got a bookmark,” Evan says, gesturing the one sticking out of the book. “Marked what made me think of you.” 

Tommy glances up at him briefly, and then back down, opening the book up to where the bookmark is placed. As his eyes skim the first line, his free hand reaches for Evan’s, holding his fingers as he starts to read it out loud. 

“I never wanted to be your first choice being your first choice implies that there is a second choice I wanted to be your only choice

for once I wanted someone to be so sure of me  that everything else disappears” 

Tommy’s eyes keep skimming the words on the page, completely enamored by the level of thought put into the gift. 

“I saw that and I ju-, I…I don’t know. I related to it,” Evan tells him softly, nervously. “It made me think about all of our pillow talk. All the conversations in the dark and late night confessions, and I just…I-I felt like that was someone else finding a way to say it, in black and white, in a way that I could give to you.” 

Tommy nods wordlessly, finally closing the book a moment later as he looks up at Evan again. He doesn’t speak, and the nerves it leaves Evan with are exploding inside of him as he stands there, waiting. But then Tommy brings his free hand to Evan’s face, fingers curled around the back of his neck as he steps into the space between them once more and kisses him, open-mouthed and fully. Evan’s hand finds Tommy’s wrist, holding on tightly as he leans into him, presses his body flush against Tommy’s. 

When they finally break apart, Evan is breathless. He stares at Tommy with that same deer-in-headlights half-smlie, completely taken by the moment. 

Tommy shakes the book lightly in his hand, glancing down at it and then back up at Evan.

“This is everything,” he rasps, giving small nods. He drops another chaste kiss on Evan’s lips quickly before enveloping him in a warm, tight hug. “Thank you.” 

(Tommy's purchase for Evan was To Be Loved by Frank Anderson. I've never read it, but it feels like they would both enjoy it, based on the summary. Evan's purchase for Tommy is Whitney Hanson's Climate book of poetry.)

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟕   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   AUGUST 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

Trish Fitzpatrick wore many hats, but her favorite was “freelance journalist.” Her area of expertise grew directly out of myriad side gigs: what she called portrait pieces of interesting people. Outlets clamored for them—or, they had since she’d buttered up famous, neurotic opera singer-turned-starlet Prudence Boone into revealing she had a glass eye, a secret runaway daughter, and a hair-eating habit. Of course, Prudence was basically a stranger. They had once had a fifteen minute conversation on the deck of a yacht, bonding over the fact that neither actually knew to whom the vessel belonged. Prudence thought Trish’s outlandish suggestions were funny enough to remember her when she called to pitch the piece. It had gone the same way with Renzo. Of course, they had met while fighting over a scarf in a vintage clothing store. Trish considered letting him win to be a debt, one for which she would demand recompense at the ideal time. Opportunities passed, and then August 1991 proved to be the time.

❧ i got the irresistible urge to do renzo backstory, which was meant to be an outtake, but then i was like, "uh, no, this totally works as story proper if i put leonor in it," so here we are ! context and such. given the amount of work, this might be my magnum opus until further notice ... it was also just fun to do :^) checked off the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll boxes ?? where's my prize. in conclusion, i love my white boy of the week or whatever

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

I grew up in a tiny town—Petunia. Petunia? You say it differently. It’s the country coming out, I guess. Not “pee-tyoon-ee-ah,” it’s “puh-toon-yuh.” Petunia. That’s it. So, how was it? Fond memories? In retrospect, maybe. I wanted to get the hell out of there from day one. What I remember is being very unhappy—dispositionally sullen, not just a pouty kid, but fully down and out. Born that way, probably. And your parents? My parents … Life had the upper hand, man. They were good at losing. I didn’t want that life.

My dad professed to be a traveling salesman—What, he wasn’t? I mean, he didn’t know jack shit about vacuums or whatever the fuck. I don’t know. But, he wasn’t around a lot, it sounds like? Gone for weeks at a time. Just me and my mom. How was she? Not really there either. When I got home from school, she’d pop her pills and be gone until morning. She wasn’t avoiding me; she was avoiding life. She did what she had to do in the mornings—you know, I had what I needed, the bare essentials—but she was checked out. You had a lot of unsupervised time, then. Oh, did I. Too much. I mean, I had books to read, and I got into music early—From her? No. My dad’d blow into town and bring pity gifts. Not kid-appropriate shit, now that I think about it. Heavy, gritty stories. A guitar I was too little to use. Flip lighter. But, you know, I was a kid. I wanted to run and play with everyone else, too. Of course.

Here’s the thing: it was hard to be a scrawny kid named Lorencio in Petunia. Shit, I can imagine. What was that like? … Hard, like I said. Well—Details? I got the shit kicked out of me. Regularly. What do they call it—um—“school of hard knocks”? Yeah. I remember, one time, I limped home on a Saturday. Mom was out of it, but she leapt up when she saw all the blood. Cleaned me up. It’s like I’m there now—in that bathroom with the dirty tile, her burning me with peroxide … She didn’t really talk, you know, not in a serious way? But she did then? She said, in Uspanian, “‘Don’t roll over for anyone.’” Interesting. So, that’s the lesson? Part of it. I realized that summer it didn’t matter if you were scrawny, if you talked funny, if you were poor. What mattered was not being a pussy. [Laughs] Oh, yeah? If you want credibility, if you want respect, sometimes you gotta be able to take a beating. Don’t roll over. That’s right.

I think it also helped when the growth spurt hit. You must’ve still been scrawny. [Laughs] String bean. So it goes. Adolescence . Now, you grew up fast, is what I’ve heard. You could say that. My life changed when Marty got out of lock-up—Sorry, what?—for “teen offenders”; he set his grandparents’ car on fire—oh, I see, regular kid shit—Uh huh. We hit it off. He introduced me to other guys, including Jesse. They’d huff gas together. Oh my God. Not whippits? Sure, but less convenient. That’s—No good, yeah. Fun though. Have you—? I’ve tried everything, Patricia.

Jesus! So, Marty and Jesse…? We got on like a house fire. [Groans] They were into petty crime for the thrill of it—Now, Renzo, is arson petty? He did it one fucking time. Everyone overreacted. They got into trouble for fun, and for you it was—? Money. Not a lot. I was too dumb to consider the risks. But, you did other things for money, too? Don’t say it like that. I wasn’t hooking. [Snorts] I worked a lot. I was cutting school to work, getting paid under the table, all of that. Maybe—hear me out—some of it was thrilling for you, too? I won’t tell anyone. [Chuckles] What can I say? Credibility.

I feel like I’m mischaracterizing … I love Marty and Jesse, to this day. Jesse’s daughter is your godchild, right? Yeah. Marty went back to Petunia in … ‘88? Jesse and I had better luck, or maybe we were just more desperate. Either way, my point is that delinquents get a bad rap—With good reason! Sure, okay. Both of them were deeper and more complicated than that. You’re not an outlier. No. We’re a dime a dozen. No one gives them the chances you got. Uh huh. So, we bonded over that—feeling down and out, like I said, but also the fact that we loved music. Marty’s family had money, so they’d bought him a nice bass guitar. But, Jesse’s mind … He’s so fucking creative. He wasn’t a reader, but I could tell him about something I’d been chewing on, and he’d have a song inspired by it within the hour. He has an incredible voice, too. He does.

I guess it’s not surprising that you guys did what you did. There was nothing for us at home, you know? Packing up and heading out west didn’t feel like a risk. And your mom understood that? Better than anyone. I know people judged her—shit, I judge her, too—but I always knew she was trying. That’s sweet. Is it? I mean, I think so … She met my dad at a bus stop three weeks after she arrived in the country and made the mistake of getting off at his stop. That’s it. That was her crime. Well, I’m sure she’s doing better now, huh? She lives in a nicer house in a nicer city, but that doesn’t cure depression, now does it? I suppose not. There was this woman whose lawn I’d cut all the time … A real bitch, but she was extra nice because she felt bad for me. Hated my mother. I think she was just jealous because my dad was her high school sweetheart. Isn’t that just how it goes? Damn foreigner stealing a real catch from her. [Scoffs] Sticky fingers when she invited me inside for lemonade—cigs and quarters from her purse, Valium from the cabinet, that kind of thing. [Laughs] Casual. It was pretty brazen, honestly. Fucking dumb kid.

Alright, so, you come out here with Marty and Jesse to make music, and now you’re a serious actor with a name and a big career ahead of you. How’d that happen? It was completely accidental. While we waited for a record deal, I did odd jobs, like auto work—you know, in a body shop. It was decent. Had you worked on cars before that? So, I got familiar, uh … [Chuckles] We’ve established I was a rascal. We could get under the hood of a parked car and make a few dollars off parts. I can get you in so much trouble, Renzo! [Laughs]

Don’t tell anyone, come on! I was a kid. Have a heart. I guess it paid off. But, alright, body work? What’s the connection? It’s kind of convoluted. When business was slow, the guy I worked for loaned his employees out to another mechanic. This guy, long story short, brought me along to assist him on a movie set. I guess he was a known quantity? Everyone knows the right guy! That’s everyone’s explanation for where they end up. Me, too. Uh huh. I don’t know why they let me do it, but—Somehow it worked out. Yeah, it did. Right place, right time.

You’re in the spot. How did you get into it, though? This is embarrassing as hell but, fuck it, I’ll be honest. Please. Don’t stop now. [Chuckles] I got a shot because I’d been chatting up this girl who, as it turns out, was the director’s kid—or, in fact, she approached me. I had no idea who she was or why she was there. Of course she did! That’s not surprising, is it? I think I was the most disinterested person there. I don’t know. Anyway, we talked a couple times, then—out of the blue—someone asked me if I wanted to hop into a scene, say a line, ten seconds flat. She did that for you? I don’t know what she did. No one mentioned her. Maybe she thought you looked like a movie star. [Snorts] Fuck. I hope not. Did you want to do it? I wanted to make music. I wanted to finish reading my book. I wanted … I mean, I said yeah. Can’t decline that. Makes a good story, right? What happened with her—? Oh, hell. Sorry! Moving on, for now. [Groans]

I got a call several weeks later about an audition. How did that feel? Bizarre. We’d done a demo for a producer once, but this was different. Were you excited? I was terrified. But, I went. Didn’t get that part, although everyone was perfectly nice to me. How disappointing. You always remember your first … But, hey, you have to look at it this way: I didn’t want to be an actor. I thought it was cool, but it felt like … ? Go ahead, give me a good metaphor. Like when you’ve been craving your favorite food, but then someone offers you a helping of something different, new, appetizing. How’s that? Passable. C-plus. [Laughs] Fuck you, Pat.

Okay, so the road didn’t end there. No, it didn’t. I got another call, and that one went well. This was for … Sugar Sweet? That’s the one. Cornball, but I love that movie. Never seen it. What! How is that possible? You were in it. You went to the premiere screening. There are pictures. Saw my first scene, excused myself to go piss, didn’t come back until the applause had started. Wow. Everyone has opinions about that movie these days—very contentious, whether or not Alicia was in the wrong when she left me and stole my lifelong dream. What do you think? Me, Renzo? Good for her. I thought it was kind of bitchy. It’s peculiar how many women say that. I wonder why … ! Billy’s so dreamy. Please, ask me about something else, Pat. So, this romantic comedy is your launching pad. It leads to the television show. The television show blows up immediately. Walk me through what that felt like?

Also terrifying. I really cannot emphasize enough that I didn’t want attention. I wanted money and time to support my music, and acting seemed like a good way to do that. Just didn’t account for the side effects. Like fame? Uh huh. I was a nobody in Sugar Sweet, and the pay was shit, but it felt like a miraculously good deal at the time. What it did is put me in the running for more serious work. I think, even then, sometimes the casting folks were hesitant to take a risk on someone with no experience whatsoever, even if they had—A spark? Talent? Sure. It was unsettling, the idea that I was some kind of “natural,” and I compensated by working really hard. Well, you’ve established yourself as a hard worker. Sure. I guess they saw that—the improvement, in addition to the fact that I had a resume to speak of by then. Or, eh, they saw that you were pretty. Right, of course, you don’t need talent if you have Teen Mag’s favorite cheekbones. [Snickers] I joined a cast with other people who had very little experience, and we bonded over that. I just didn’t expect to be … What, the center of attention? That, yeah.

You know what’s fucking weird? Huh? Signing your name on a picture of your own face that belongs to someone else. That they’re going to take it home and pin it to their fucking wall or frame it on their bedside table. Someone’s kid treating you like their school crush, blushing and shit while they’re asking for you to do it. That does seem like a strange experience. Over and over again. Teenyboppers, goddamn. You were in the magazines for them. I read a couple interviews. No the fuck I was not. I did not do those. No? What they do is take quotes from actual, consented conversations and stitch them together for their own use. It’s legal. That’s fascinating. Maybe I should try that. Less work. [Laughs] Yeah, alright, flush your “exclusive access” privilege right down the toilet.

But, look, I’m not disparaging the fans wholesale. That’d be unfair. And, ouch, ungrateful? Yeah. The initial couple years were fucking insane, but I was with people I liked, and a lot of the fans we actually met were … Normal? Uh huh. Not a hysterical, handsy, screaming blob. You got grabbed? Groped, Pat. Oh boy. We don’t like grabass, I guess. Well, hold on now, just not like that—You keep sidetracking me. What kind of interviewer are you? I’m having fun with my buddy! Sue me. [Chuckles] You got it, baby. What was I saying? The fans? Yeah. The ones we met one-on-one were cool, usually. They had deep thoughts about the show, you know? Ideas about the characters, the plots—filled in holes in the shitty writing. No offense to Jack and Reuben, I hope! Don’t print that, Pat.

If I’m being honest, having to answer their questions made me think deeply about the role. That’s stayed with me. I don’t like being walked up on in public, but sometimes it’d go fine. The first time someone came up to me in the wild, her mother looked so fucking apologetic that I decided, “Cool it, don’t be a jackass.” She wanted to talk about the book I was buying. Same thing would happen to Frank, Perry, Vicky. How about the show itself? That was a three year commitment.

It was alright. In retrospect, I understand that television isn’t for respectable actors, which made the transition hard. Harder to have been on a show for teenagers. But, you made that switch in Uspana. So, did that play into the calculus at all? I lucked out, in the sense that the show was co-produced, and I got to do the dubbing for the Uspanian version. I wasn’t a total unknown, even if they thought my Uspanian was shitty. Is it? Losing an accent is hard, in my defense.

When my contract ended, I hit the road. You didn’t think about staying on? I thought about it with horror, yes. [Laughs] You’d keep shit-talking the whole production if I let you. Maybe. So, in Uspana? It was like exhaling for the first time in a while. I did nothing for a couple months. All that hard work, being a beloved TV star … Throw me a bone, Pat. But, anyway, I didn’t even see my mom’s family again for a few weeks—You knew them, though? Yeah, we’d met, during the press trips. Beach life by yourself. Luxury.

You know, I needed to reconnect with myself. That’s how I felt. I felt like I had been an imposter, then I felt like I had to be someone I wasn’t, and now … You could go a different way. A fork in the road, for your career. Your life, really. Right, yeah. I went to Canarís like any good tourist. I had more money than I’d ever had in my life. I had no plans. Sounds like a dream. It was.

Crucially, I was out of my mind most of the time. Kite high. So fucking high. I swear I almost drowned twice, at which point it was politely suggested that I stop using the pool. Did you politely agree? Fuck no. [Laughs] Troublemaking aside, I ended up taking phone calls, making plans with people—Industry people? Yeah. There were people I knew already, but meeting the ones I really wanted to work with happened kind of organically—parties, premieres for other films, cafes. At the Morningstar Cafe in Canarís? Right, exactly. Same way I ended up finding The Den. Someone at the cafe had worked with Karolina Teague, and she took me there one evening after we all got tossed out of some poor son of a bitch’s house. Sounds rowdy. Can’t blame him. It was after midnight. And? Well, it was a lunch that’d started at eleven in the morning, so. [Chuckles]

So, I have a question. You’re pretty consistent—in terms of behavior. “Behavior?” [Snorts] Yeah, okay, I understand. What was that like, with cameras on you? The photographers in Uspana definitely aren’t less aggressive. That’s part of it. I don’t know if I’d call it an epiphany, but I left Canarís for Nakawe with the understanding that I was going to just do what I wanted to do. Oh boy. Within reason, fuck. Reason. Sure, yes. You didn’t feel like a dumb kid anymore. I mean, I guess I have more fun with the camera guys here. They can get away with more, ergo, so can we.

I distinctly recall you got arrested for—I barely touched that guy or his fucking camera. Did him a favor, if I did. Dogshit quality device. [Chuckles] Not sure he saw it that way, but the charges were dropped. I mean, don’t get me wrong, shouldn’t have reacted that way. I kept thinking about my mom seeing those pictures … The one time I got picked up, she backhanded me in the middle of the station, right in front of the cops. Jesus. In the car, she goes, “If you get caught again, I’m going to rip your ears off.” Empty threat, I guess.

The Den—I want to talk about that. Please, let’s. Your first time there? It was with Karolina, like I said, and there was a local band playing that night. They’d wrapped up their set by the time we arrived and were just … jamming on the stage, taking feedback and requests from the people who were still there. Some kind of funky jazz mash-up. I liked it. How did it come to you? It opened in ‘57 as a bar and, at some point, it turned into more of a music venue open to a certain segment of Nakawe. The guy who owned it gave exposure to a lot of people who went on to really do something with their art, and that’s why it ended up being a somewhat exclusive spot. Celebrities already knew it and brought their friends. Uh huh. I could stroll up, and the cameras weren’t with me because they were already there. He got tired of that, I think—He was an older fella, right? Yeah. But, really, he managed other properties, and The Den wasn’t his passion project the way it’s become for me. So, you had the money and took it off his hands.

What goes on in there? [Laughs] Pat, you’ve been inside. Well, not for me! If I’m going to describe it to people who’ll never go inside, what would I say? I mean, it’s a hangout spot. It’s a performance venue. We had, uh, mimes last month. Truly gifted, those people. [Laughs] Really? I don’t come up with all of the ideas myself, but I only agree to the shit I’m interested in. It’s kind of selfish, but I guess I’m lucky to know a lot of people who’ll toss in five dollars to enjoy it. It’s something. Compelling. I mean it. Thanks. That’s not all, though. I mean, you describe it as a “haven.” It’s very private. Some of your regulars are troubled individuals. Damn, Patricia, just say it. I feel like a cop! “Do you condone drug use in your establishment?” nonsense. But, well … I’m not explaining it. Either you—they, whoever the hell—get it or don’t. Come for the music, come to unwind however you like, doesn’t fucking matter to me as long as you’re coming with an invitation. I like to go in the back room, close the door, let the music and noise seep through. Muffled. You don’t really strike me as a partier, frankly. You never have. I wouldn’t argue with that. I like parties, but I don’t need to be at the center. Some do. That’s fine. This place is for us all.

Maybe it works out because of that, that you’re curating this space but not necessarily always in it? What do you mean? Well, you reopened it and then, if memory serves, immediately went off to do a film. The party kept going. You just like to know it’s happening. Alright, sure. That’s true. Knowing it’s there … Yeah. I like it. I was in that back room, thinking about the script, when I decided to do it, actually. Life felt like it was falling into place. It was a good time to take a leap. “’You are going to be a cowboy?’” “’No, I’m going to be a farmer.’” I had that conversation a thousand times. Reporters, man. Hey! Everyone was so surprised. I think they thought the premise was … I don’t know, that it just wasn’t something I would want to do? Or, worse, that the filmmakers wouldn’t want to work with someone like me? Unflattering assumptions, sounds like. Can’t blame them. I had a lot to prove. Still do.

How was six weeks in Texict? Fucking heaven. I loved it. My mother’s from the northwest so, even when I visited family, it wasn’t anywhere close. No reason to visit until we dropped in to do the film. Every day, I woke up happy to be alive. Happy to be doing this job. Gorgeous. I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it wasn’t just the location, was it?

No, you’re right. I felt like I was really acting—for the first time, seriously. Maybe the cast helped? I’d worked with established actors before. The leads in Sugar Sweet were—well, you know who they were. I learned a ton from them. But, yeah, I guess Sasha was the first person I’d worked alongside who had me sweating. Oh? I wanted to impress her so fucking badly. I wanted to keep up, you know? So talented. So raw. She rips every line out of her chest with her bare hands. Bloodbath of emotion. The premise was new, too. Not a lighthearted romance this time. No. We were young parents of a ill child—stressed as fuck, trying to make life work, struggling separately to be together. Can’t lie, I ate that shit up. So did the critics. Hell yeah.

Every nomination felt surreal. The recognition was incredible. Validating. Sasha and some of the others swept up. I was just honored to be up there with them, honestly. Okay, well, let’s talk about Sasha. Do we have to? Yes. Indulge me! [Grumbling] I mean, all I can really say at this point is that I was obsessed, and it wasn’t until it was over that I had the clarity of mind to really wonder, hm, “Was I in love with Sasha, my coworker, or was I in love with Sasha playing Lucy, my wife?” That seems like an occupational hazard. I wouldn’t describe it that way. You take sensitive, delusional, beautiful people, pay them to get vulnerable and intimate with each other … It’s special, even if it’s … Not genuine? No, it is that. It’s not real, but it is genuine. How else can you say, “Well, our schedules don’t line up anymore, but I’ll have this scar of our initials forever?” You do not! No, I don’t. The letter S is really hard to cut without fucking up. Not a sober man’s idea. No.

Since I have you on the topic—hey, no, absolutely not—I’m obligated to ask if there’s anyone in your life right now. How’s that? Women’s magazines can snap this up and stitch it together for themselves. This is a public service. Patricia … Yes, Lorencio?

Look, I know you do your research. I do. I’m very good at it, too. What’s that like, princess pus—Pat. Pat, I’m begging you—Are you obsessed? The letter L is easier, I bet. It is. Would you go with another L or an R?

I’m not talking about this—not for you to print, anyway. Well, talk to me as a friend, then? I’m not just professionally nosy. We’re friends? Who else calls me Pat and gets away with it? You haven’t been Trish in a long time, it’s true … [Sighs] Fuck. Someone can be precious, right? Lovable. You can hold them in your hands and think, “This person matters to me. They’re special. I like to be around them; I like to listen to them; I want their affection.” You can really, genuinely cherish someone.

But? Maybe you find their life to be completely fucking repellent. Unbearable. … Damn.

There’s parallels, though, right? I mean, fame is fame, there’s got to be value in relatability, and—There’s an open mic going on downstairs in the hotel bar right this minute. Let’s take a break, Pat, what do you say? Let’s just go watch some of it. I’ll let you print dick measurements and my deepest, darkest secrets if you say yes. [Laughs] Well, if that’s on the table—

[starlightshadowsworld]

Some of my Kunichuu headcanons

Gift giving is Chuuya’s love language and he loves showering Kunikida in gifts.

Things that remind Chuuya of him, things that Kunikida has mentioned liking. A new notebook here, a bottle of Kunikida’s favourite wine etc.

They have a shared online calendar.

No matter how busy they are they get dinner every Friday.

Chuuya has come home from a long mission to Kunikida cooking dinner. He lets himself be pampered and taken care of as Kunikida dotes on him.

Chuuya steals Kunikida’s hair bobble when he’s over because he likes seeing Kunikida with his hair down. Kunikida rolls his eyes fondly but he never makes any attempt to get it back.

Kunikida took a while to tell everyone about his relationship. Mainly because he didn’t think it appropriate to talk about his relationship at work. While Chuuya told Kouyou and Hirotsu straight after their date (Dazai found out last from everyone.)

Chuuya has met and befriended Katai. Kunikida and Kouyou met prior because of Kyouka and while they aren’t friends yet they’re both on good terms.

While both found the other physically attractive to begin with. Kunikida fell for Chuuya’s kindness and his intellect. Chuuya fell for Kunikida’s honourable and kind nature.

Kunikida loves waking up with Chuuya in his arms.

When they go out together Chuuya takes one of Kunikida’s ribbons and ties it around his hat.

Most of their dates are just them hanging out in each others homes. Watching movies, talking, playing games or just holding each other and enjoying the peace of being together.

Chuuya brings out Kunikida’s competitive nature.

Kunikida kisses Chuuya’s knuckles when they see each other after a long time.

They both like brushing each others hair.

Chuuya has one of Kunikida’s pages on his person at all times.

Kunikida’s asked Chuuya out. They were both getting drinks and Kunikida mentioned having an ideal partner list. That he could never quite find someone perfect for him.

Chuuya (totally not jealous) said oh what’s it say? Kunikida read the whole thing out and each point described Chuuya perfectly. Like each point had been tailored to fit him (because it was Kunikida ain’t subtle.)

“Huh, well you think I know the perfect person for you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Kunikida and Chuuya find each other in the chaos of the city. They make sure the other is okay and stand side by side to fight alongside their partner.

And what’s more terrifying of s force then creation and destruction stand side by side holding hands.

[serendipitous-imagines]

can i please request jjk gojo, nanami, choso, and geto getting the reader (any pronouns) valentines gifts? thank youuuu!!!!

aaa of course you can!!! i hope you enjoy!! i had so much fun writing these boys for the first time ever >:D

SATORU GOJO

✦ Gojo plans the most extravagant, week-long trip out of the country so that the both of you can just escape the craziness of the world and focus on one another. This includes booking first class tickets (or a private jet if he so felt like it) to a destination you have been talking about wanting to visit forever. ✦ Before you leave the airport, Gojo covers your eyes with a blindfold, with no end of teasing you and making comments like "you excited~?" and "have you guessed what i'm doin' yet~?". You have no clue what is going on, but you do not mind it at all, especially feeling Gojo's hands on your shoulders guiding you around. ✦ Once the blindfold is taken off, you see you are in front of a large vacation house with Gojo grinning largely at you. "Gojo, this is so--" "Perfect~? Yeah, it is~" Gojo extends his arms out, clearly proud of himself. "And that isn't all~" his sentence is punctuated with fireworks going off behind the vacation house. It is insanely extra, but with Gojo being the one behind it, it is sweet (if not a bit silly). ✦ After a 'relaxing' night with each other, Gojo wakes you up early with breakfast in bed and plenty of kisses. After breakfast and some distractions from Gojo, he takes you out into the city and gives you his card, saying "no limit on this card~ have fun~". He kind of follows you around carrying your bags, talking to you, and holding your hand. He loves being able to show you off to the public. ✦ "Hey, Y/N... I'm glad you came out here with me. I haven't felt this happy and free in years. I love you so much, you are the most important person in my life. Thank you for being my Valentines this year."

NANAMI KENTO

✦ Ideally, Nanami is the type of man to take you out to have an experience as a gift, but with the demands of work, sometimes he has very little time to plan something as extravagant as he wants to give you. You know some Valentine's dates with Nanami end up being the two of you polishing off a bottle of wine or two before retreating to the bedroom together. ✦ This Valentine's was different, Nanami was able to call in a rare favor to get the day off to surprise you with something completely different than what the both of you would normally do on the holiday. Nanami does not tell you about the good news, however, he wants to be the one to surprise you this time. ✦ When you get back home from work and picking up the Valentine's Day drink of choice you and Nanami had decided on this year, Chardonnay, you are a little surprised to see that your boyfriend is home before you are. "Nanami? You're home early!" Walking into the house, you are greeted by a smiling Nanami with a tux on holding your fancy dress clothes up to you. Getting past the initial surprise, you get all dolled up for your boyfriend in record time and the two of you leave the house quickly after. ✦ Your mouth is agape when you arrive at the town's restaurant, knowing exactly how hard it is to get a reservation on a usual night, and you could not imagine it was an easy feat to get reservations for Valentine's night dinner. Nanami guides you inside with his hand tightly holding yours, the two of you led to a table already set up with silver plates. Nanami ensures to pull your chair out for you to sit down in. ✦ Lifting up the silver tin in atop of your placemat, a gasp escapes you and your hands cover your mouth seeing the brilliant diamond ring sitting right in the center of the plate. Immediately, you turn to look at Nanami, who is on one knee beside you with a gentle smile on his face. "Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man alive and marry me?"

CHOSO KAMO

✦ Choso prefers a more intimate and small Valentine's celebration at home rather than going out. Even though he prefers to stay in and not face the Valentine's Date Dinner Rush, he does not hold back when he is decorating the house when you are out and about during the day. ✦ Choso worships the very ground that you walk on and the moment that you walk through the front door, there is a trail of rose petals leading to the bedroom, the whole house is completely cleaned and smells like your favorite scent, and an intimate red lighting is casted all throughout the house. ✦ When you get into the bedroom, Choso is standing by the bed with a little wrapped gift in his hands and is giving you a pretty smile that encompasses all of his love for you (accompanied by a small blush on his cheeks). ✦ When you unwrap your gift, you find a dark red velvet jewelry box. Upon opening the box, you are greeted by an incredibly heartfelt letter from Choso detailing his love for you. ✦ You also find a necklace in the box with a vial of a strange red liquid in it. When you look up at Choso to question him about what it is, you only feel his lips slamming into yours hungrily and the cool metal of the necklace being clasped around your neck.

SUGURU GETO

✦ When Geto asked you out of the blue if you had any plans on Valentine's Day, you answered that you had none immediately, assuming he wanted the company on the holiday. Honestly, you needed the company as well, Valentine's Day always reminded you how painfully single you were seeing all of the lovey-dovey activities and decorations around. ✦ Arriving at Geto's place, you were dressed in your casual clothes, sweatpants and a stained hoodie, and a grin on your face as you proudly held the two boxes of pizza out when the door swung open. "Dressed in your finest attire, I see," Geto teasingly commented to you in that all-too-familiar monotone voice of his as he stepped out of the doorway so that you could come inside. ✦ The two of you were sat beside one another on the couch with a movie playing on the tv. It was a horror movie because "what is less romantic than a horror movie" was Geto's reasoning despite knowing your fear of scary movies. Each jumpscare sent you nearly flying off of the couch and closer to the comfort of warmth beside you. ✦ It was only about half-way through the movie did Geto's arm slide behind you and wrap around the lower half of your back. Finally able to pull your eyes from the screen, you finally noticed that Geto was staring at you. Had he been staring at you the entire time? Your cheeks flushed as a nervous smile spread across your face, "Yeah?" you asked. ✦ "Do you want to be my Valentines?" was all Geto asked before he closed the space between the both of you, pulling you closer to him with his firm grip on your hips. Your hungry kiss in response to his was enough of a confirmation to Geto that you did in fact want to be his Valentines.

FANDOMS ~ MASTERLIST ~ COMMISSIONS ~ REQUESTS

[starleska]

[stepping over the picket fence from my backyard into your backyard, like I’ve learnt anything about Despicable Me or Maxime since my last ask besides it is, indeed, the masc “le Mal” and not the feminine “la Mal”]

Hi, hey, howdy, don't worry about getting to this ask quickly or replying or anything, you take care of yourself, do what you need to do, do what you want to do 💕 I'm going on a thought experiment, a couple of thought experiments. <3 

but I was pondering my orb or taking a four hour nap or whatever you wanna call it and like. Is flustered, needy Maxime a new concept???? Not something that’s been greatly considered????? Bc tbh, he always gave me those vibes. For some reason. Like “Oh yeah, of COURSE he’s clingy and embarrassed and blushy and etc etc”. I’m not even sure why I was so sure but it just felt right. 💖 Surely…I wasn’t…projecting any type of …”personal biases” upon himAHEM so sorry, allergies. 

That big coat is for hiding and he totally can just, dissappear in there and hide from the world. He could pull the coat up and his head in and hope he can cover how read his face is. Like don't look at him rn, he's so vulnerable and uncomfortable about it bc he's used to being so big and impervious, but also don't go away, bc he likes you sm and this is so nice and he loves being adored. But also it's so much!!!!!!!!! Vicious cycle.

I'm a Blushy Needy Maxime truther. Or liar. I'll leave it to the people who've actually seen the movie to decide. Just the bigger the ego, the harder they fall, thats what I always say. Don't fact check that. 

What do you reckon flusters him most? Nice words? Physical affection? Teasing? Gifts? All of the above? I feel like it could be anything. 👀 or maybe it’s none of the above. 

Maybe I underestimate him, maybe he's got better composure than I assume, but every set of armor has a weakness! Anyone can get flustered, Maxime can get flustered, and tbh he probably should get flustered. Where there’s a will there’s a way! …Maybe Valentina would help. Either way I KNOW THAT GUY IS GETTING FLUSTERED I know it 

Accidentally a little overboard with the teasing and flustering and he gets all in a huff, giving the cold shoulder. You gotta say you’re sorry and wrap your arms around him, and in an ideal world he’d hold strong to his grudge until he felt you’ve paid your dues, but he can’t help but melt into your embrace. He compromises, turning back to you, burying his still-hot face into you and refusing to look at you instead. His arms tight around you, not letting you go even long after you assume all is well. His ire is still on you, you know! You owe him a lot for all that trouble you put him through! And besides, he still feels lightheaded from all this blood rushing to his face. You must let him stay in your soft, supportive embrace for just a moment longer. You wouldn’t turn him out now, would you? After you did this to him?  For shame. 

(He is Not intending to let you go anytime soon, he is making up all the excuses)

…hm…I may be talking in circles and not saying much of anything. I also feel like I’ve Greatly Exposed myself today. I gotta go disinfect my ear piercings…I gotta wash my neckties….I gotta refill my mint essential oil diffuser to keep away…the….the bugs…ahem…I gotta make a Pokémon team for Normal Reasons. 

I'm also once again coming to you cold, literally standing next to an actual oven for warmth like a Victorian child when my jacket is on a chair literally just one Maxime away. I’ve Got to GO. I CANT KEEP BEING LET OUT OF CONTAINMENT LIKE THIS. Thank you for listening to my TEDTalk/hostage situation. If anyone asks, I was never here. Take care, you’re great <3 

[Runs away, jumping fences like I committed a crime here.]

not you dropping an entire three course meal and dessert into my askbox, á la mode!!!!!!! 🙈💖💖 for someone who claims they don't know anything about Maxime, you certainly have put a lot of thought into this message...😉

you know, at the time you sent this ask I would've said that flustered, needy Maxime is a new concept, but we've had an amazing wave of art for him over the past week and there's so much of him being all cute and blushy 🙈🙈💖💖 i think it's that he is so easily angered and hates being called cute…he's total fluster-bait!!! we NEED to make him blush 🥺 AAAAA ohhh my god the idea of him wrapping his coat around himself and hiding is so soft!!!! no no you are SO onto something because Maxime is so horribly arrogant and confident, he's a bully who loves the spotlight and desperately wants attention…so wouldn't it be interesting to finally hit that sweet spot and get him wanting to hide? i really do think overt affection like that would make him curl up, and if you did it in a pointed enough way, his face would light up like a traffic light 🥰💖 i think that Maxime is probably really unprepared for anyone who is able to match his energy. he's looking down at you all heavy-lidded, boasting about himself and casually belittling you, but you shoot back with a well-aimed flirtation and it just. hits him like a truck. his cheeks warm, he starts to stammer. he desperately tries to recover, but he's actually looking for an out because he needs to find somewhere to breathe and quiet his beating heart 👀💖 YOU ARE CORRECT Valentina would so get involved!!! you've probably seen us talk about Valentina a bit before, and our wishes that she'd had more dialogue/character development in the movie…but two things that are very canon about Valentina is that she loves cute things, and she also thinks MAXIME is really cute 👉👈 i am certain that behind closed doors those two lavish all kinds of attention on each other, and Valentina turns Maxime tomato-red every time!!!! squealing no no no please don't be embarrassed i LOVE this!!!! gahhhh i adore that quick possessive flip from being so embarrassed and curling in on himself to it being something where he desperately wants to keep you, he can't let you go…!!! oh, my heart 😳😳😳 it's going to sound so silly given all of the stuff i've made for Maxime and being a selfshipper but i adore him so much that i STILL get so incredibly squirmy even trying to imagine any degree of one-on-one discussion with him, let alone contact…!!!! it's taken me a week to answer this ask for exactly that reason 🙈💖 so THANK YOU for fueling my brain i am going to chew through my hoodie sleeves now 😳😳😳 cackles. are we both sufficiently dead now? did you manage to do all of those convenient excuse-related things (including making the Pokémon team which i would LOVE to hear about)? 👀 it's OKAY lovely, open yourself up!!! there are no rules when it comes to loving characters - who says we can't adore many at once?! 🥰 thank you for always sending the loveliest, most interesting asks!! i've been mulling over this one for a hot minute and it's really, really cheered me up after a tough month, so big big hugs 🫂💖💖

[infini-tree]

episodic - part 3

< back | next >

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Summary: It's business as usual. At least it looks like it, and that has to count for something. The boys do a bit of arts and crafts. Krupp takes a step back.

A/N: literally the worst part of writing fic for CU is trying to think of pranks. they’re up there with choreographing fight scenes. also these next chapters were brought to you by: me referencing the movie’s art book i got as a gift. Locations And Fascinating Objects section my beloved…

this chapter's scene went through a lot of shuffling-- melvin was supposed to be in this one. but alas, once this was finalized he was pushed back into the next chapter. ideally. at the earliest. its been almost 4 years, i swear he actually has a part to play in this AU, he's technically part of the core secondary cast--

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Back in the present day, the boys snuck into the art room. Even now, there wasn’t a proper class for it in Jerome Horwitz, despite The Prank For Good. But because of it, Krupp never had the thought to put it under lock and key again. The doors still remained unlocked for any kid that needed it. And George and Harold had a big need. In fact, they had been caching away supplies when no one was looking.

Captain Underpants trailed behind them; he looked at the room and gave a small nod, murmuring something about being “back at the start”.

“What will we be doing this time, sidekicks?” He clapped his hands together. “Oh! I could try and ask for a carnival again–”

“NO!” both of them shouted. The hero jumped up in surprise and stayed in a low hover.

George was the quicker of the two to regain composure. “No, no– we’re doing something different.”

“Oh.”

Harold unpacked the contents of his bag. There was a ridiculous amount of flour and bottles around them, along with other plastic pails and shovels.

“Ooh, are we making a cake? Can I decorate it?” Captain asked.

George sighed. “It’s not for a cake.”

“Well, what is it for?” 

Harold dumped a bunch of flour and oil into the largest bucket with the glee reserved for children about to make a huge mixture of stuff. “Sand!”

When the hero continued to look baffled, George cut in. “With Krupp instating the grade-wide assignment gauntlet, we have to retaliate with the exact opposite of that.”

“…Recess?”

“Close!” Harold began to mix the concoction with a plastic shovel. “Summer vacation!”

“And we need to make a lot to really sell the beach vibe.”

“Oh…” Captain nodded with the confidence of someone who had no idea what that meant. He knelt down and gave a curious sniff at the flour sand, catching the faint whiff of some sort of cooking oil.  mix his own bucket the other boy handed to him.

To make a long story short, they managed to create enough of it to create a sizable layer in at least two classrooms. They hauled the first half of it to Guided’s classroom–or rather, Captain flew it over in record time. He began to push all the desks back and started to stack them high up against the edges of the wall. It reminded Harold of that one time he showed George a boardwalk on a faded postcard, tall buildings looming over sandy beaches.

“Why only two?” Captain asked as he stacked some of the desks on the teacher’s desk. “Why not make the whole school a beach?”

The boys perked up from their efforts to place the sand evenly across the classroom floor.

“‘Cause the first big tests are in Ms. Guided and Ribble’s classrooms,” Harold said.

“We’d have loved to do something big," George explained as he scattered the beach toys. "Really put the last big prank that happened here to shame–”

“But we had to improvise. Go for lots of smaller ones for the first part of this plan, you know?”

“First part?” Captain echoed. 

“Yeah!” Harold continued, ushering them all out of the room. Captain followed in a low hover, and George swept over the remaining footprints with a hand. Looking back at their work, it looked like no one was ever in the room.

“The first bit is to wear all the teachers and Krupp down. And then–”

“Bam.” he punched into his own open palm. “That’s where you come in!”

Captain tilted his head. “I thought this was where I came in?”

“What? No– I mean, we appreciate your help, but you have a bigger part to play here.”

“I do?” he asked.

“We figured you’d want to get back at Krupp, right?” George said. 

Captain was silent, his expression dumbfounded. 

“With enough pressure, he’ll back off from you and he’ll back off with all the sudden assignments!” Harold clarified. “It’ll be great.”

“We’re not sure how long he’s planning on making everyone miserable, but we’re planning for the long game.”

That seemed to make things more murky for him but the curiosity still remained. He tilted his head with furrowed brows, as if trying to figure out the connection between the two facts. “…How long, exactly?” 

“As long as it takes.” Harold gave him a good natured punch to the side. “Now come on, let’s get the other classroom set up.”

The boys grabbed his hands and led him back to the art room, chatting about what else they could do.

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

The school didn’t know what hit them. 

Later that day, the fourth graders enjoyed the slices of beaches in the pair of classrooms. They made their sandcastles and moats as the teachers tried– and failed– to get their papers from their desks buried under their own students’ desks. 

And on the day after that, there was the petting zoo in the math classrooms on the same day a calculator-less test on long division was meant to happen. It was no tiger, but the kids enjoyed petting the sheep. For extra salt in the wound, there were numbers drawn in bright colors on their wool. 

Corralling the animals out was one thing. Finding out they were only Sheeps #1-6 and 8 was another, leaving all the teachers to scramble to find the last sheep of the set for the past few hours.

Apparently, the third time wasn’t the charm as George and Harold were called into the principal’s office. When they walked in, he had never bothered to close one of the desk drawers, clearly embroiled in whatever work principals do. Krupp was faced away from them, yelling into the phone.

“How many times do I have to explain it to you, there probably isn’t a Sheep #7– are you falling asleep counting them?” He turned to face them and grimaced. “I’ll get back to you.” 

He hung up the phone, glaring at them as they took their respective seats. 

“Care to explain the last few days?”

Harold shifted in his seat as he gave a glance to the other boy. “We have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“We were a bit too busy dealing with the sudden wave of assignments and tests to try anything,” George added with a shrug.

“Don’t play innocent with me. The gaps in my memory are extremely obvious.” He waggled an accusatory finger at them.

“Like we said, we were busy–”

“What– watching him get bit by sheep yesterday?!” He held up his other arm filled with band aids of various sizes.

George leaned over to the other boy and whispered, “Man, they can be really vicious, huh?” 

Krupp slammed his fists onto his desk. He opened his hands. Closed them. Before pushing himself off his seat to look down at them. “Whether you’ll actually admit it, I’ll cut to the chase. Stop whatever you’re trying to do.”

“If it was us, why would we? You started it.”

“Oh, hah–” He let out an incredulous, breathless laugh at that. “I started it? You’re one to talk after all you’ve done to me. You should be grateful I don’t just hold you back right now for that comment!”

Harold was unmoved. “Man, you got so much worse– I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Oh, I can do so much worse after your little breaking and entering stunt,” he shot back. “Invading my privacy, looking into things you shouldn’t–”

“So you admit you were talking to him.”

“Now I never said anything about talking, have I?”

George and Harold leveled a glare at him, refusing to give him any confirmation or satisfaction that he was right. “So that is why you cracked down on the entire fourth grade, huh?”

“Or maybe it has to do with the fact that I’m losing sleep over mysterious injuries!” The boys wanted to speak up, but he refused to give them that. “And– and, seeing the school be nearly destroyed multiple times a week.”

“Not like you really cared about the school before,” George grumbled.

Krupp spluttered furiously, turning a new shade of red in the process. “Says the children who keep on endangering it and wasting its resources!"

“We’re saving the school!”

“From problems you made up.” He slowly made his way around his desk to them. “Is that why you made me your little stooge? Were you just tired and wanted to feel important in your little superhero fantasy? Or was getting rid of me the main motivation here?”

George stood up from his chair. “Oh, if we could have, we would have!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, it suddenly felt like the office had turned somewhat askew. Gone was the red in Krupp’s face and gone was the anger– if anything, he looked like he had been slapped in the face. His mouth opened. Closed. Nothing.

The boys were suddenly aware of the clock ticking, now that it was completely silent. George couldn’t help but be reminded of the time he said something that crossed some unseen line with his mom.

And just as quickly as the conversation was fishtailing out of what any of them were used to, the principal clambered for any sense of control.

“I’ll deal with the both of you later.” He put up a hand to rub his temples– and conveniently hid his eyes. “Get out.”

Harold blinked. “What–”

“NOW!” He whipped his arm to point at the door.

They stumbled out of their seats and ran without a second thought.

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

For the rest of the last class of the school day, Harold was sitting on pins and needles as he looked at the clock. While most kids looked at it expectantly for the final bell to ring, right now he was dreading it.  He figured George was doing the same.

Krupp getting the jump on them was a matter of when today , not if, especially when he was as mad as he was earlier.

Five minutes. He glanced to the front of the class. Even Rected was struggling with the new mandate to increase kids’ work. Which, he guessed, made sense– more work for them meant more stuff the teachers had to look at.

Two minutes.

Speaking of work, he was quickly scribbling out some ideas for the next issues. Though he couldn’t help but let his mind wander off to the other prank plans they had– he figured by the way Rected was pulling at his hair, they can bring Captain in for the cherry on top by the end of next week–

The speakers screeched to life. There was a beat of silence long enough for someone to ask if Krupp called an announcement on accident, until–

“Pop science fair, end of this week,” he said tersely. “Hope you can wow the teachers, since this is now a good chunk of your mark. How much? That’s the ‘pop’ part of that.”

The kids began to groan and slam their heads on their desks. Even more heads fell on their desks as another screech echoed through the school.

“You have George Beard and Harold Hutchins to thank for that. That will be all.”

The bell rang. One by one, everyone turned his direction, some shocked, others confused, many furious. Even Mr. Rected gave a baffled look.

After dodging the onslaught of kids ready to hound him or worse due to the announcement, he found George running down the hallway for similar reasons. At some point along the way, the other boy got their skateboards and helmets. With a frantic throw, they skateboarded out of the front yard and down the quickest route to their house.

“George?” Harold said, once they turned to their street. He had been eerily silent the whole time.

The other boy jumped off his own board and pulled his helmet off. He could see how much sweat was on his forehead now.

“Change of plans–” He stomped the end of the skateboard to make it stand before quickly grabbing it. “We’re taking stock of everything tonight.”

Harold stared at him. He knew why– he could still feel a flare of indignation from that announcement.

It was like George read his mind. “What Krupp said– those were fighting words. We’re going to move the Captain Plan up next.”

He gave a curt nod.

[asa-do-your-thing]

Not me getting excited with your prospective fics, adding them like i'm carrying a shopping cart 💀😂

- Otto with a corruption kink finds out his object of desire is Married and has severe cognitive dissonance (this sounds so interesting)

- Criston x F Reader but ancient Greek mythology (i stan one problematic misogynist)

- Jace fucking reader in the rain (outdoors?!?! F yeah)

- Cregan tries to gift you a direwolf only to find out that the direwolf has separation anxiety (uwu time! 🥺)

Haha thank you for your enthusiasm! I cannot write all at once (so just keep an eye out for the rest ;) ) but here is your Gilf ficlet:

"My Marble Statue "

Otto Hightower x F! Reader - 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Sex/Smut, fellatio, fingering, big age gap, power imbalance, otto is the main character so automatic misogyny warning, implied violence, religion, abuse of power, dubcon, alcohol

Otto Hightower, the King’s Hand, was a man in his sixties, whose days were normally spent at court, advising the King and, essentially, ruling the country on his behalf. He had been appointed to his post for many years and was respected and feared by all who knew him.

At court, Otto was accustomed to being surrounded by beautiful ladies, draped in luxurious fabrics and vying for the Princes’ attention. Although he had grown used to life as a widower and taking a new bride had never truly been on his mind; most young women would seemingly resist his ideal of a perfect, modest and religious wife. But one day, Otto's gaze locked with that of an unfamiliar woman. She seemed to be of a lower station than the others, possibly a lady-in-waiting or courtier’s daughter. She was much younger than the other ladies, yet her features were aglow with an innocent beauty that left Otto utterly captivated.

He felt himself drawn to her, as if an unseen force were pulling him closer and closer. He watched with rapt attention as she moved around the court, her every movement bewitching in its grace and elegance. Her conversations were polite yet restrained, her eyes flitting quickly away whenever a man drew close to her. In the light of day, she stood in the sept like a marble statue - a beautiful image of piety and modesty. His breath caught as he noticed that her eyes were dark like coal, her hair even darker as it ran down her back like ink spilled from a quill. Every fiber of his being yearned for her, but she was beyond reach; it stirred something inside him - a fire that had been smoldering for ages, pulsing through every vein in his body until it all rushed at once to his loins and pressed urgently against the fabric of his breeches.

He felt the irresistible pull of attraction towards her as he saw her in court. He knew it was wrong—she was so young and innocent, and he was the King’s Hand sworn to serve justice with a calm impartiality. Yet despite knowing that their relationship would be difficult, if not impossible, Otto could not deny his hunger for her. The days that followed brought him more difficulty than ever before, as Otto found himself continually yearning for her and made every effort to speak with her without letting his desires take over. With each conversation, he did his best to keep his thoughts on virtuous matters, though he still noticed the curves of her body as she moved.

He was amazed at how quickly she seemed to take to him, and all too soon, his heart felt like it was taking flight. He had not expected to find himself in a situation such as this, but his feelings for her were too strong for him to ignore. He continued to fight against his feelings, knowing that he must remain a loyal subject to the King, but he could not deny the deep love and lust he felt for the woman he had only just met.

One night, after years of unspoken desire, Otto could no longer contain his urge to propose. Yet when he arrived at the young woman's chambers, he found her intoxicated with other ladies of the court. His heart was heavy as he swept her away from imminent danger and carried her into her bedroom, quickly dismissing the other young girls. The moment they entered, his breath was taken away by the room - a star-studded ceiling depicting heavenly scenes; walls adorned with tapestries of legendary battles and mythical creatures; a giant bed draped in velvet curtains of blue and green. Otto couldn't help but feel an undeniable tension between them as he set her on her feet with tenderness.

He was enthralled by her beauty, his heart racing as he took in every exquisite detail - from her porcelain skin that looked like polished ivory, to her lips that were like perfect rosebuds. "Thank you so much, Ser Otto...," she whispered sweetly and flashed him a small smile, before kicking off her slippers and laying down on the bed. All thoughts of proposing had been forgotten, replaced with an uncontrollable desire to take her right then and there. "May... may I help you with anything, my Lord?", she asked shyly, looking at him with the most tantalizing doe-eyed gaze he had ever seen.

Giving in to his primal urge, he stepped closer and grabbed her head between his hands, pulling her into a passionate kiss. "Lay down, I need you. I need your eyes to look at me like your sweetheart; I need your whispers to call out my name, I need you..." he growled hungrily, pushing up her dress to expose her pale hips which he kissed fervently, leaving thick red marks as evidence of his hunger.

Otto spread her trembling legs wider and hissed in pleasure as his fingers slid easily into her slick sweetness. He murmured into her mouth, "It seems you need me too...", his voice deep and urgent. With a steady rhythm his tongue explored her eager lips while his fingers stroked her deeper, faster. His breathing grew ragged as he savored every moan that escaped from her. "Gods, you are so tight...my innocent, beautiful girl," he murmured between desperate kisses, delighting in the way she melted for him.

He felt her powers pulling him in as she tugged him onto the bed, next to her. There was no hesitation, no room for doubt. "Otto, please don't stop.." She purred and enveloped him in a tight embrace. Quickly undoing his breeches, he nodded at her. "Strip down, my Lady, I must feast my eyes on your perfect body..."

With one fluid motion, the dress was off her shoulders and she lay flat on the bed beside him, being pulled inexorably towards his throbbing manhood. His voice quavered as he murmured in her ear "I need to feel your soft lips encase me." Unable to answer with words, he simply nodded as she tenderly took him into her hands and gazed up at him with searching eyes. "Can I?", she asked softly while tracing circles around his moist tip. Even now she was kind and humble...

In this moment, Otto felt like a god among gods. His body hummed with pleasure as the young woman beneath him looked up with wide eyes begging for more. He could feel her mouth around his manhood and the soft wetness of her tongue - he wanted to stay in this bliss forever. He tightened his grip on her head and deepened the penetration while she let out a loud moan that shivered through every inch of his aroused body. His pleasure surged and threatened to overwhelm him but he wouldn't give in just yet.

He tightly gripped her soft hips with his hands and dragged her body against his hard warmth. His eyes seared into her, smoldering with hunger as he breathed the words "Do you want me inside you?" against her lips. She shuddered in desire and nodded eagerly, arching herself up to meet him. With a deep guttural moan, Otto positioned himself between her quivering legs and thrust himself into her tightness. The pleasure was almost unbearable but they both felt it course through their veins as he slowly moved back and forth. His voice was low and commanding now: "Take me, my little dove, I know you can... Be good for me..."

From the moment he entered her, his instinctive desire drove him to move beyond what he thought was possible. Her warmth enveloped him, consuming his mind and shutting out everything else. The only thing that filled his being was her delicate scent and velvet skin, hearing her heavenly moans as she clung tightly to him with each thrust. As his climax grew closer, he knew he should have pulled away to release on the bed, but he could not resist the deep, quivering heat inside her. When his climax arrived, a loud cry of her name burst from him before he collapsed onto her exhausted body, trapping her beneath his own.

Having caught his breath, she gently pushed him to the side and quickly threw on her dress again and grinned. "Husband!", she called towards the other end of the room, where a small door opened and Larys Clubfoot emerged with an even larger smile. "Good evening, Ser Otto."

Otto's post-orgasmic haze quickly cleared as he saw her and Larys together, their hands intertwined with gleaming rings around each of their fingers. Though his mind was still slightly clouded from his encounter, Otto could not help but feel a huge wave of shame as the reality of what had happened sunk in. He had thought she was pure and innocent, but in the end it had been nothing more than a ploy by Larys to get something to hold against him in the future. It seemed she had indeed not been as naive as he'd thought, and this knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Larys continued smiling at him while the woman who had just moments ago taken his pleasure stood beside him with an air of satisfaction about her. "Congratulations wife, now let us hope that the King's Hand shall be more cautious about his decisions in the future", he said before nodding at Otto and turning away with her on his arm, disappearing again in the hidden caverns below King's Landing. Otto watched them leave, realizing too late that he should have known better than to even consider taking such risks - no matter how tempting they may be. "I shall hang you, you disgusting wretch! Behead you, Clubfoot!", he screamed and buried his face in his hands.

He remained rooted to the spot, his mind in a whirl and an ache in his heart. He had acted so rashly; he was paying the price for his foolishness now. His reputation was fractured, and there was no longer any chance of finding the kind of innocent love that he had always longed for - and yet here he was, feeling nothing but regret at the choices he had made.

Otto promised himself he would never look for love again. He wanted to focus on his own success and reputation, no matter the cost. As he walked away from the room, one thing was certain: what had already happened could not be changed. But despite this vow, thoughts of the mysterious woman lingered in his mind.

[ghoulsgraveyard]

The Big Swap

2.3k words

Content warnings: this is smut. I’m talking straight up porn. Dynamic swap, degradation, slut shaming (but it’s hot don’t worry), pegging, anal sex,Daddy kink (not in the way you might think),  reader is afab but gender neutral, impact play, aftercare. no use of y/n because I don't like it <3 

a/n: i’m a total virgin, so this is a very idealized and unrealistic view of sex because your boy is scared of intimacy. This is super self indulgent

The smaller swaps happened all the time. Covering the bill before he could put his credit card down, pulling his hair after he pulled you onto his lap, holding the door for him after he opened your car door. Just the little things subtly swapping who wears the pants in the relationship; you or Steve.

Most of the time it was Steve. From a young age his father had instilled the idea that he had no choice but to be the provider and caretaker, that he had no business being cared for, that he was a pansy if he ever leaned on anyone for support. So when Steve got in relationships he became the dominant personality. Despite unlearning most of his dad’s “teaching” Steve still had no reason to step down from his spot as the caretaker, he liked it. Most of the time it was Steve. But then he met you. You who had taken his life by storm, a whirlwind who respected his boundaries but pushed him out of his comfort zone. You who held his hand and laughed at his jokes and loved him. You who slowly started to take care of him. It started when he was sick, and you would give him medicine, and feed him and keep him warm or cool. Steve was delirious with sickness but grateful nonetheless. Then you started to bring him lunch at work, claiming you wanted to avoid “hangry Steve” which was partly true. Then you started bringing over dinner on movie nights. When Steve gave you a key to his house you kicked it up, doing some light cleaning, doing his laundry, leaving him gifts, sneaking some extra cash into his wallet. Slowly getting him used to being taken care of.

This extended into your sex life. Focusing on his pleasure, being soft with him when the sex was more intimate and slow. When the sex was more rough, Steve took charge.

Tonight was no different, it had been a few days since you two had last had sex, both of you were a bit pent up, but Steve was no more rough than he’d been before. His mouth no more filthy than usual. “Oh yeah? You like that? You fuckin like that?” Steve loomed over you, your shitty mattress squeaking and headboard banging at the force of his thrusts. “U-uh huh” you replied to the best of your ability, which was difficult considering Steve was practically knocking the air out of your lungs. “Yeah you like it, I can- I can tell. Pussy’s fuckin squeezing me down here.” You grabbed at him to try and ground yourself, he whined as your nails dug into his back, leaving red trails in their wake. “God you’re so good for me, so good” he said through gritted teeth, gasping for air “such a good slut for me huh?”

For the first time since Steve pushed into you, your mind was clear. Slut. Degradation wasn’t new to your sex life, Steve had called you plenty of names before, but never slut. You weren’t mad or offended, but that word made you remember an old nickname you had for Steve. One you never called him or even said out loud, but back in highschool, when you had only heard tales of King Steve, your mind had dubbed him “Slutty Steve Harrington ''. Memories of locker room talk of his sexual escapades juxtaposed with how pretty the man above you looked, pink lips gaping and face flushed while the word slut rang in your ears culminated in a shift inside of you.

He was calling you a slut? He was calling you a slut? Steve Harrington who had been passed around over half of the female population in your age group was calling you a slut? You barked out a laugh.

He slowed, “Is everything okay?” His big eyes full of concern contrasted the hair stuck to his face from sweat, his kiss swollen lips and blushed complexion. In that moment the only way the man over you could look better, is if he was under you.

“You wanna repeat what you just said to me?” hooking your legs on his lower back, using all your strength to flip your bodies so you were straddling him “because it sounded like you just called me a slut”

His eyes were immediately full of concern “I'm sorry baby I should have asked I just-” you pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s okay Stevie, I'm just playing. I wanna try something new with you, is that okay?” you spoke slowly. Steve felt a sort of haze cloud his mind, and he nodded a bit dumbly, you continued “do you know what to say if it stops being okay?” blinking slowly Steve responded with the safeword you two had agreed upon.

You snapped back into character “You called me a slut Steve. Which is rich coming from you. You wanna talk about sluts Steve Harrington? Let's talk about the biggest one I've ever met. You.” you slinked off of his prone form, grabbing a few things from your bedside drawer. His eyes followed you as he watched you pick up handcuffs, lube, a dildo and some mass of leather straps he’d never seen before. You crawled back on top of him. “Hands up, slut.” he quickly obeyed, you put them on, looping them through one  of the poles in your bed frame. He gave them a quick pull, testing his range of motion, wanting to check in, you raised your eyebrows at him, silently asking if he was comfortable. He quickly nodded. Shuffling down his body, pushing his his thighs apart and up to his chest.You slid a pillow under his hips to prop him up

Leaning forward you pressed a sloppy kiss to Steve's lips, then forced your middle finger into his mouth, which he quickly accepted. Pulling your finger back from his mouth the string of saliva connecting your digit to his lips was enough to make you groan. With your middle finger  now wet you could get started.

Lightly circling his hole, and slowly adding pressure, before slipping your finger in up to the first knuckle. Steve’s eyes shot open at the shock of what was happening. Snapping open the lube and dribbling a liberal amount on his hole, Steve gasped at the cold liquid, clenching. Slowly but surely his channel opened up to you, you added a second finger, feeling around until you heard Steve release a filthy moan so unholy it could’ve sent an angel straight to hell. Steve was a mess above you. “Please” he whimpered “please touch me” his big wet eyes looked at you “I am touching you, greedy whore.” he threw his head back in frustration “please, touch my dick” he struggled getting the words out. You gave out a hearty laugh “that fucking thing? Absolutely not. That dirty dick has been passed around this whole town and god knows where else and you want me to touch it? You must be dumber than you look.”

Steve whined high in his throat.

You picked up the mystery object you left on the side of the bed and fiddled with the leather in your hands. Steve spoke up “wh-what is that?” you met his eyes “oh this? This is my harness.” you continued adjusting the straps, then clipped yourself in. “why do you need it?” he practically whispered. You smiled cruelley at him “oh honey” you leaned in so your lips were right next to his ear “how else am i going to fuck you?”

Steve had never heard himself make a noise like that before. A high pitched whimper, so pathetic he almost snapped out of his haze to berate himself. Almost.

He watched with wide eyes as you fit the dildo into the harness. Almost going cross eyed at the intimidating size. You lubed the dildo up and applied extra to Steve's hole.

You loomed over him, mimicking the position from earlier. “You want me to fuck you? Huh slut?” Steve nodded, that wasn’t enough, lightly slapping his face “then beg you stupid whore.” gasping at the pleasure pain from his cheek, Steve was quick, letting words tumble out of his mouth before his brain could begin to process them “please oh god, please. Please fuck me. I need it so bad. Please I- I need to be your slut please make me your slut. Please fuck me daddy”

As soon as the words registered Steve began to glow with embarrassment “I-I’m so-” you cut him off “oh that’s good. I like that. Call me daddy baby I’ll be your daddy” you began pushing the strapon into him, Steve whining the whole time, practically thrashing in his cuffs. You kept filling him with surprisingly little resistance “look at that slut. Your little hole is practically swallowing me with no problem. Now tell me, you ever been fucked in the ass or does your body just know that you’re a whore” Steve was so overwhelmed it felt like he was losing his mind in the best way possible “I’m a whore I’m a whore” you laughed at his state continuing to slowly push in while keeping a healthy amount of lube on him to ensure his comfort.

When you finally sank the last inch into his desperate ass as your hips met the backs of his thighs, Steve wrapped his legs around you. A mess of whines, whimpers and moans Steve felt like he was melting into the bed. You stayed seated all the way inside him, waiting for him to relax. About a minute later Steve started making coherent sounds again “daddy, daddy please” his hips started rocking, trying to gain friction from his prone position. You pet the hair out of his eyes “what is it slut? What do you need daddy to do?” you cooed at him.

Time seemed to stop when the Steve Harrington looked you dead in the eyes and whispered “fuck me daddy”

The world seemed to come back with the slow and steady thrusts you gave. Rolling your hips, gyrating, just barely pulling out and then sinking back in. it wasn’t until Steve started begging “more daddy please more” that you started to really fuck him. Pulling out until just the tip remained “god you’re a slut” then slamming back into him. He practically screamed. You fucked him in earnest, alternating short deep thrusts to pull out little gasps, with long hard strokes pushing out wanton moans. When you tried to go gentler on him he just whined “daddy harder. Faster, more please. Please” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his desperation. Nevertheless, harder and faster you went. Pounding into him, shoving him up the bed, bending him so he was practically folded in half, his neglected cock bobbing against his stomach being thrown with each thrust, leaving sticky patches of pre-cum in its wake.

His moans became louder and more frequent and soon the begging started back up again “I-I’m close, fuck, daddy I’m so fucking close. Oh god please. Please I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum daddy I’m gonna fucking cum please let me, please let me cum daddy”

the man was once the most popular boy in school, a rich kid, a star athlete, and now he was cuffed to your bed, calling you daddy while you fucked his brains out, and he thought you weren’t going to let him cum?

“You’re gonna cum? You’re gonna cum only from getting fucked by daddy? I didn’t even have to touch your dick, but you’re such a slut I didn't need to! Your hungry little fuckhole just needed daddy’s cock. Yeah. yeah you can cum. Make a fucking mess of yourself baby, cum all over your chest, go on, make a mess for daddy. Cum on daddy’s cock you can do it slut. Cum.”

His back arched so far off the bed it was like he was being pulled up by an invisible force. His balls twitched as his cock released rope after rope seemingly unendingly. His moans were so high in his throat they were practically silent but as he was riding down his high they became deep and throaty. God he was loud in bed. All the while you fucked him through it, slowing down only when tears of overstimulation beaded in his eyes.

He hissed as you slowly pulled out. Panting and gasping for breath, Steve didn’t have the energy to notice you speeding off to the bathroom. Returning with two wet cloths, you cleaned him up while trying to avoid overstimulating him, then laid the other wet cloth on his forehead to cool him down. You made quick work of unlocking his cuffs and cooed at him while you rubbed and kissed the red marks they had left. Steve’s eyes fluttered “hey honey, you doing okay?” he groaned in response you smiled and kissed his nose “someone is sleepy huh? Can you be convinced to take a shower and a sheet change?” he grumbled unhappily. “I’ll make you breakfast in bed tomorrow if you do!” that got him rolling out of bed. You helped him to the bathroom with his shaky legs. After washing each other and changing the sheets you couldn’t help but admire the man next to you. God he was pretty. Even if he was a slut.

[udretlnea]

In the Court of the Creator

Prompts: Inspired by Minecraft!Reader by @fandomshenanigans​, Wardens in the Chasm idea by @mists-reading-nook​ & Alt!+OG!Reader by @questionotmystopit​

Summary: You are brought before the Divine Creator after getting caught in the Chasm. However, before your fate is sealed they suddenly take an interest in your appearance, but why?

A/N: Originally there was supposed to be a two-page short comic serving as the introduction, but during the creative process I realized that 1) I was staying up too late that I simply couldn’t get my body to cooperate in drawing it, and 2) the end result was…not ideal to me; thus I had to scrap it and go ahead with just the story. If you’re wondering what I was doing…yeah it was all of that planning, writing, and internal discussion. Anyway, here’s the piece I was able to finally write and I hope you all enjoy it! (Normally I keep their gender ambiguous, but I really, really wanna write a male reader. Oh, and there’s that 100-follower event I’m cooking...my, I’m gonna be quite busy!)

TW: Precision F-word strike.

Words: 2.3 k

Proofread by: @soleillunne​

It was cold inside the lifeless, marble halls of Celestia. Your wrists were beginning to chafe with how tight the cuffs were; you tried to rub them together to try to loosen them, but it was in vain. Defeated, you merely continued trudging ahead of your captor.

“Keep moving,” a dignified female voice behind you ordered. You suppressed an eye roll. “We’ll be inside the throne room shortly. There, the Creator of Teyvat will judge you, imposter.”

There were those words again. Creator. Imposter. Words that you were familiar with after hearing them countless times ever since you found yourself trapped here with no way back home. How many times did you recite a prayer to this God of Gods hoping for some miracle to show you a way back? How many times did you catch people throwing you dirty looks, muttering about you being gifted for looking like their god; they stopped after you decided to wear a blindfold. Only the truly envious ones had the gall to call you an imposter.

You didn't care about that. You just wanted to sell your potions and find a way back to your beloved Minecraft world.

“Halt! We’ve arrived.” Your recollection is interrupted by the sudden command. You shake your head.  Your eyebrows raised at the impossibly huge set of doors. On either side were some kind of giant robots with a single menacing orange eye. They were adorned with miniature white tree branches on their shoulders. Both of them peered down at you as if silently judging your sins.

Your jailer stepped towards them; she was a tall female with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and wore a navy coat-no, that’s called a tailcoat. She made a salute to the robot closest to her; it made a rumbling noise before it signaled to the other one. They both turned and pushed open the doors. The hinges groaned like phantoms singing in an opera.

“Alright, let’s go,” said Ponytail.

The throne room was sparsely decorated, but the translucent floor that resembled the night sky made up for that. You instinctively looked up and couldn't help but lower your jaw in awe; up in the ceiling was a painting of a humongous figure draped in a white cloak with gold accents. There were stars on and around the body. Their arms were outstretched like they were expecting a hug.

You looked forward and felt your breath hitch. In the distance was a hooded figure sitting on a throne with two others standing on either side. Behind it was the open sky; there were no windows, meaning one could jump from there and fall from a great height. 

Okay, that’s enough intrusive thoughts.

You got close enough that you observed the people standing in front of the throne. To your left was a young woman with antlers and salmon-pink shoulder-length hair. She wore a dark red and black crop top and skirt; she had bright teal eyes with ovoid pupils. To your right was a tall beautiful woman with short hair with blue accents at the end; she wore a dark bodysuit with silver accents and a white fur coat draped over her back. A rather shiny bracelet was on her right wrist.

In her hand was your staff; it was a green metallic stick with a small cylinder protruding from the top with an orange square block inserted in between. They stared at you two as you stopped in front of them.

“As per protocol, I will begin listing off the crimes the guilty party has committed.” Antlers said with neutrality. She opened a scroll she was holding and cleared her throat. “According to eyewitness reports, you have been selling dangerous items to civilians with powerful effects without a legal permit. Furthermore, you entered a highly dangerous and closed-off area in Liyue, witnessed a highly confidential location, and put the lives of several miners in danger.” 

You felt some measure of indignancy swell within you. “Hey come on! It’s not my fault I spawned a Deep Dark biome. My staff was broken and I needed components to fix it. When I heard of a mine just west of Liyue, I didn’t realize it was closed off. Furthermore, my staff…went haywire because of some weird energy down there that infected it which ended up creating that biome.” 

“There were a couple Millileth stationed there. Was it not obvious?” Blue stated coldly.

“Of-of course, but I was worried about the consequences if I didn’t fix my staff,” you sigh inwardly. You lick your lips. “And I didn’t know those miners were there. Also, if they ran into a strange new area without any common sense, then that’s on them not me.” 

“So you admit to being in the Chasm, but you do not deny that you were selling contraband?” Antlers recounted in a controlled voice.

“I didn’t know how things operated in Liyue! I keep telling you that I’m not from here!” You were starting to feel a headache coming on, and the conversation hadn’t lasted five minutes!  “Besides, I only sold to those who were desperate AND rich enough to buy my wares. Also, I only gave some potions of instant healing to those who brought their sick family members; I would never give potions that could harm anyone, I’m not a bad guy!”

Antlers opened her mouth, but a noise beside her made her pause. 

Blue hummed. “Your staff. It is most peculiar. I’ve never seen Thaumaturgy like this before. Spill. Who are you, truly? Being some ordinary person with the creator’s face is one thing, but having access to dangerous magic as this is another.”

“If I told you, would you let me go?” You asked hotly.

“Depends on a number of factors like if this correlates to Abyssal magic, but in reality you’ll probably get a lighter sentence like a lifetime sentence in jail. It’s a much better alternative than getting executed, if you like enclosed spaces that is.”

“Wow. That’s so generous of you. Let me think about-no,” you said flatly. There was no telling what Minecraft logic would do here when something as basic as the elements were used for practical use.

“Hm. A shame. It appears we’re gonna have to execute you after all.” You feel hands behind you grip your shoulders. You try to throw Ponytail off, but blue glowing ropes suddenly spawned and wrapped your legs and arms. 

This…couldn’t be it! You had a home to get back to, a cat to pet and feed! So many projects would be unrealized if you died here!

“Hold.” A new voice spoke up. It took you a second to realize it was the figure on the throne. They snapped their fingers and pointed at Blue, then at you. Blue nodded and the bracelet on her right glowed; the ropes on your body disappeared and Ponytail released her grip on you. 

The creator stepped down from their throne towards you. You try to back away, but Ponytail puts a hand on your shoulder and you pause; you do your best not to tremble at how this all-powerful being was looking at you despite not seeing their eyes.

“Look at me.” They say commandingly in an ethereal and firm tone. You do. And in genuine awe. The power this being was radiating was so immense that it was almost suffocating. You felt as if you were an ant, and the more you scrutinized this person, the more you slowly realized your place.

Wait a minute, something’s not right. you think to yourself. You leaned forward so that you could see under his hood somewhat better. You could make out some of their features, and if you squinted you could’ve sworn they looked familiar. Huh, is it me or does this person look like me…! Oh. No way. 

You suppress a growing sense of unease building up in your stomach. Your eyebrows comically raise themselves, and to your amusement so do the creator’s.

‘What the heck?’ you both mouth simultaneously. Whether through interest or impulse, the creator stepped down from their throne and stood in front of you. You stood straight. Slowly, the creator reached for their hood; it fell from their head. A chorus of gasps filled the room with one of them being your own. Nobody dared to breathe, fearful that it could break the moment.

Staring back at you was your own face, even down to the jawline. You open your mouth.

“What the fuck?”

///

After much discussion that took all day, it was declared by the creator that you would be staying with them under house arrest; you would be supervised by some handpicked acolytes all day. At night, the creator themself would look after you. Luckily, the idea seemed to satisfy the acolytes and no more questions about you were thrown; time would tell if this new protocol needed more polishing.

It was night, and currently, you were sitting in the garden watching a swarm of crystalflies float about. They were pretty to look at already, but they glowed so mesmerizingly at night. You took a deep breath and sighed peacefully.

Then, you felt a presence beside you. You turned your head. It was the creator- you They had their hood off; their hair was long, jet black, and tied in a ponytail. They possessed dark purple eyes with slit pupils; tiny white dots danced in their iris like twinkling stars. Two strands of hair rested on either side of their shoulders. They rested their hands in their lap.                                                                                                                              

“Hey, you got room for one more?” You simply shrug, uncaring for another presence, but happy that you had company. After another pause, they spoke again. “You…good?”

“Oh yeah, I avoided being thrown into a dark cell and left to rot. Or worse. I’m actually grateful we came up with that story about me being your sibling,” you told him. 

“Of course! I’m not so arrogant as to believe that I’m the only version in this multiverse to exist. There have to be others like me out there, and those who weren’t so lucky to be gifted godlike powers the moment they teleported here.” Creator!You looked at you with sudden curiosity. “How did you get here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Ah, that. Well, you see I was trying to build a portal to the Aether-wait, do you know what Minecraft is?” When they nod you snapped your fingers. “I kept experimenting with different blocks using my command block until I got one working. And being the genius that I was, I decided to test it out myself. I didn’t realize it was a one-way trip until the portal behind me immediately closed. The rest is history.”

“I see…it must be terrifying being in an unknown world having to learn how things work.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth. The slimes are so different from back home. I miss how square everything used to be.” 

“Er, apologies for bringing down the mood. That was not my intention.” You wave them off understandingly. They clear their throat, eager to change the subject. “Anyway, have you been keeping up with the news from the multiverse?”

You shake your head. “No. I mean, I didn’t know one could do that.”

“I have my ways of checking, and I encourage you to read up. Knowledge is power after all. I can show you some tomorrow.” They smile and cross their arms. However, it quickly turned upside down. “Apparently, someone went and stole multiple universes from this multiverse.”

“...You mean, someone stole multiple different versions of Teyvat…?” Creator!You nodded. That’s unbelievable! Did you happen to catch how many they took?”

“If I recall correctly, it was exactly 168. Luckily, after a while, they were all put back in their places.”

“Is that number significant?” They shrug before dropping the subject entirely.

The conversation pauses for a moment as the two of you find something else to discuss.

Creator!You huffed. “By the way, what…what should I call you? Because it’s going to be confusing if someone calls for one of us when we’re in the same room. Plus, the ancient manuscripts already refer to ME when it uses our name.” 

You laugh excitedly. “Aw man, I was waiting for this moment! I’ve always wanted to change my name to Yu, like Y-U.”

“That sounds adequate, but you’re gonna need a surname too,” said Creator!You. “What about…Nakayama?”

“Nakayama Yu…it has a nice ring to it. I like it! Alright, I’m gonna use that!”

They made an approving noise. “I’m pleased you like it so much. So…you wanna shake hands to, I don’t know, make it official?”

“Sure!” You stuck out an open hand. “I’m Nakayama Yu. It’s a pleasure to meet you, me!”

“Likewise!” They took it and you both shook firmly. You give a breathy chuckle.

It was nighttime, but the air wasn’t cold. You instinctively rubbed at your wrists, as if double-checking there weren’t any cuffs. You chatted away with yourself until you felt sleepy; you went to your guest room, immediately flopped on the bed, and started snoring.

[fannyyann]

Hiiiii Stephanie I am curious about the lore around Matthew’s deal taking a long time because he did not want it to eliminate a teammate, I did not know this!!! His big heart 😭 Anyway if you would not mind sharing more I would love to learn more about this….

(- jules-in-deep)

First, I never mind sharing matthew lore! And second, I transcribed Matthew's quotes to the best of my abilities but he RAMBLES SO MUCH so they aren't entirely verbatim.

In the press conference they held after he signed, Treliving said this:

“As we were going through this process, we really only had two goals in mind this summer. When you complete the season and sort of do your debriefing and then you come back and try to put together a plan for the summer, our two goals for the summer were number one to sign Matthew and number two was to keep our team intact. What we wanted to eliminate was a distressed transaction, where we were in a situation where you had to throw a body under the tarmac to create space and it comes with challenges and it comes with, potentially, risks. We talked at length at the beginning of the process to Matthew and his representatives and I can tell you from the start, as you go through this process, Matthew’s goal was the same. He obviously wanted to get his situation resolved, but it could not, would not, and did not result with the elimination of a teammate. That’s what Matthew said to me at the beginning of the process and it goes again to the type of individual that we’re dealing with here.”

And Matthew said this:

"Yeah I think the plan from the start, we were looking at every option, but, you know, long term was kind of preferred at the start, and wanting to be here as long as possible, and being a Calgary Flame. So we thought that was going to be the way to get it done at the start. Then talking with Tre, and obviously getting feedback, we knew the whole cap room and everything, and we both kind of came to the conclusion at the beginning of camp that a three year deal was going to work best for the team. So, the best case scenario happened where there isn't one guy who had to be moved in this process. That was a fear of mine, you know, you never want to see that happen, and we had such a great team last year, and we brought in some pieces that made us that much better, and can be more successful in the postseason, so it was just a bonus that no one—that everyone is still here."

And then after his trade to Florida, Matthew said this:

"During this process this summer, I kinda thought back to three years prior when I was going through my contract situation then, and throughout the whole process after my entry-level, I was like 'six, seven, eight years, what are we doing?' and nothing really came from it. Finally last second, Brad—who's one of the best and one of my favorite guys in hockey. He's been awesome to me in everything, through both contracts he was great. So that summer, like at the middle of training camp, he's like 'well the only way we can keep this team together is three years,' so I was like 'okay, this isn't my ideal situation' but talking to craig, my uncle who represents me, he's like 'do you want to actually put yourself in a better position to evaluate it all in three years.'"

And then, as we know from an after hours appearance (1:00), he gifted his teammates and the training staff these wine bottles :')

[kohakhearts]

im still pretty fresh out the psych ward so i have some pretty bad writers block as you can probably imagine however i have also been coping with my suicidal depression slash burn-out induced leave from work by watching shitty christmas romcoms. and im not at a point yet where i can Write the fic so bear with me while i just get the plot bunny hopping here. or whatever

so anyway im brainstorming all the sickening holiday tropes i can that i can feasibly put two guys who are in the most intense fake dating gay chicken relationship you can imagine before one of them breaks and goes ok you got me i actually liked it when you grabbed my ass and called me darling or whatever. obviously it’ll take a lot to get to that point because the pride is bigger than the ego or something like that so i’m open to suggestions here but. so far ive got

ice skating. timeless classic. character a sucks and keeps falling on their ass and character b is, for some stupid reason, a total pro at this and is going to do all the waist-grabbing-slash-hand-holding-slash-laughing-at-character-a that that necessitates. probably pretty obvious who is the bitch who cannot skate and who is the one laughing at him. and also catching him when he falls and being a total jerk about it. because isn’t that just a wholesome mental image

the quintessential only one bed obviously. this has more to do with the circumstances of the plot in my head than it being christmastime specifically but the holiday rush factors in there somewhere. never mind the whole fake dating angle

the whole Thing is christmas parties and whats a christmas party without a) too much wine and b) some well-placed mistletoe. and yeah maybe c) some stupid matching ugly christmas sweaters. i will never get sick of that one

gingerbread house decorating. but theyre forced to be collaborative about it. someone dies. its the most godawful gingerbread house anyone has ever seen. but thats really damaging to their prides so they really get their shit together for a beautiful 15 or so minutes and kind of make it look better and still lose the competition anyway because 15 minutes of harmony does not negate 45 minutes of throwing candy at each other like bullets. with the very real intention of Causing Pain

some kind of excuse to have them walk around together with a group of people in the evening when its dark and they can admire the christmas lights. whether it’s some kind of holiday charity work or just seeing the christmas lights or, god forbid, carolling, there is something to be said about the experience of slipping on a patch of ice on a cold winters night and having the worst time of your life because your so-called boyfriend think its hilarious that you just ate total shit. thats romance babey

last-minute christmas shopping…already a nightmare ordeal but now you have to do it because you and your fake boyfriend need to bring a joint gift to a christmas party but you cant agree on anything, ever. they are getting kicked out of no fewer than 5 stores guaranteed

ok i think im all out of holiday torture scenarios but well. i’m sure i’ll be back. ideally with actual writing but everyone is telling me to take small steps so. we’ll get there if we get there and if not then that’s ok too

[milawritesstuff]

Girl At Home (Pedri’s Version)

A/N:

This is part 3 to:

Babe (Pedri’s Version)

I Almost Do (Pedri’s Version)

Ideally I wanted to have part 3 and 4 ready at the same time. But I was busy this weekend so I am going to try and finish part 4 by tonight so you guys can have an ending to this. I hope you guys like it, I love your feedback so please don’t be shy to talk to me and tell me what you think!!

Enjoy :)

•••

Pedri’s POV

Something told me to look up and when I did I could have sworn I saw her, the strands of wavy brown hair as she turned the corner.

I was walking back home from picking up my dinner, the night falling over the Barcelona sky. A mundane routine now. Nobody at home to share dinner with. I picked up my food, walked back home, and wondered who she was having dinner with.

I knew it was her. My heart sank. For weeks dreaming of seeing her again without actually thinking about what I would say to her once I did. The bag with my dinner falling to the ground as I rushed to her. I turned the corner and manage to grab her arm to stop her.

-Y/N.- I said as a surprised look and a half smile met me.

But it wasn’t her.

-Joder, disculpe.- I apologized as I turned around and walked back home. Wondering where she had gone, I was sure it was her but at this point it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. My eyes fixated on the ground mentally kicking myself for allowing something so small bring all hope back to me.

Her scent had already left the home we shared except for the pillows, which I had sprayed with the bottle of perfume she left behind. The rest of her things still hanging in the closet. She had left every gift I had given to her behind, just like me. I hated being home because everything reminded me of her and of that faithful night when I let the worst take over me.

-Are you sure you don’t want to come?- I asked as I got ready to shower.

She looked up at me from her book and scrunched her nose. -You need some time with your friends, go out and have a boy’s night.-

I walked over to her and placed a kiss on her forehead as she went back to her book. I stepped back and smiled, knowing how lucky I was to have her by my side. Thinking about the first time that I met her and how somehow I knew she was going to be special in my life. The way she giggled when I introduced myself to her stealing my heart from that second.

The first time we kissed. Y/N and I had snuck out of our homes that night. We sat on the sand as the waves crashed in front of us. The light of the moon shinning down on both of us.

-Do you ever wonder what it would be like to live somewhere else?- She asked.

-Sometimes, but canarias is beautiful.- I said which caused her to laugh.

-Yeah but it would be exciting to live somewhere else, like Barcelona or Madrid.- Her eyes filled with wonder.

-We can live there.- I said with a sudden rush of confidence.

-You and me?- She turned over to look at me with raised eyebrows.

-Y porque no?- And why not? I said with a smile.

The thirteen year old girl smiled back at me with hope and turned back to look at the waves. I slowly moved my hand over hers. The warmth of our bodies meeting.

She looked down at our hands and smiled. I loved that smile since the first day I saw it. Slowly she moved her gaze from our hands to my face. I swallowed hard trying to stop myself from saying something stupid or not saying anything at all. Because in that moment I had to.

-Te quiero.- I said as I leaned down and she moved herself closer to me. Our lips touched. It was perfect. Our eyes opened as we pulled away from each other. A smile on our faces.

-Yo también te quiero, Pedri.- She said shyly.

A few hours later Ansu, Ferran, Eric, Gavi, and I were walking into a club in the city. We started with one round of drinks and eventually lost count of how many we had. I saw her through the corner of my eye as she approached me. -Elena.- She said as she extended her arm out standing in front of me in a red dress. I should have turned around but I didn’t. I grabbed her arm and pulled her in placing a kiss on either cheek greeting her.

I felt a hand grab my shoulder and when I turned around it was Gavi. He stared at me and whispered into my ear. “Be careful, you have a girl at home.” And that was the last reasonable words I heard that night.

“I know you have a girl at home.” She said as her body was pushed against mine, her warm breath near my ear. “But she’s not here, you are.” I said.

I’m not sure when or how it happened but while Elena and I sat down she ended up on my lap, facing me. I knew damn well I was crossing the line. I closed my eyes and felt her touch but in my mind it was Y/N. I didn’t see her friends next to us taking pictures. I felt her lips on my neck and as I opened my eyes I saw Gavi’s eyes of disappointment. But even then my mind was impaired and I took it all for granted. I took her to the restroom and did the one thing Y/N and I had only ever done. When I came out of the restroom my friends were gone. I couldn’t drive, not in the state that I was in.

As I waited outside of the club for the taxi I already knew I was about to lose Y/N. I turned my phone back on and saw the texts she had sent telling me she was going to sleep and she loved me.

I stumbled into our apartment and saw her laying in the bed. As I got into the bed I placed a kiss on her forehead with regret.

The next morning when I picked up Gavi for training he was silent. Before I could say anything he started to yell at me.

-Te la follaste?- Did you fuck her?

I looked down at the steering wheel as I drove not answering his question.

-Joder tio, pero eres un estupido.-

-Stop, fuck Gavi. You don’t think I know? I don’t know what I’m going to do.-

He looked at me, I had tears in my eyes. I couldn’t sleep all night thinking about it. I left while she showered not being able to look at her in the eyes.

We were both quiet for a few minutes until I felt his hand on my shoulder. "You’re my brother, I love you. But you really fucked this up. The best you can hope is that she doesn’t find out."

But she found out. And I had nobody else to blame but myself.

As we walked back to the locker room my phone began to ring. Gavi looked over at me with his eyebrows furrowed.

-Y/N really misses you.- He said with a smile. I opened the door to my locker and took out my phone. It wasn't her.

I knew it was over the moment I saw the pictures. Gavi looked over at me, I was staring off into the wall, my face pale as a ghost.

-Pedri, que pasa?- What happen?

-It's over.- I said as I handed him my phone.

I rushed home. Hearing her break down over the phone broke me even more. And the thing is that I knew it, I knew the moment my hands touched Elena, that I was fucked. I was destined to lose Y/N.

The morning after she left our home I showed up to practice with puffy and red eyes. Gavi knew what had happened without me having to tell him anything.

-She’s gone.- I whispered as I sat in the locker room after practice.

He was silent. Not knowing what to tell me. In that moment probably silence being better than an ‘I told you so’ from him.

-I fucking love her Gavi. I lost her.- I said as I felt tears begin to roll down my cheeks. Never imagining I would be sitting here in front of my best friend as vulnerable as I was in that moment.

-Then show her.- He said back.

I rubbed my eyes and looked up at him. -I’m a fucking asshole. I think the best way to show her I love her is by letting her go. She deserves better.-

He looked down at me and nodded his head agreeing with me without saying a word.

The following weeks were the most difficult. Y/N and I had planned on visiting our families in Tenerife for a few days during the holidays. But I couldn’t go by myself. I couldn’t tell my mom what had happened, I couldn’t tell her that her son had fucked up the one good thing in his life.

-What happened, why did she move out?- My mom asked me over the phone. I stayed quiet. It was a surprise she hadn’t seen the pictures of me with Elena.

-Life happens, mom.- I said. She took the hint and stopped asking me. I didn’t want to go back home and have to face seeing her family, them probably knowing exactly what I had done. And the thing is that I never thought about all of this that night. How I would face the world without her.

Instead I spent the days in my apartment alone. I looked over and over at her message thread. All of the messages I had sent without a response. Knowing I had already lost her. She didn't even care enough to fight with me about anything. She didn't care enough to take her anger out on me, blame me for messing our future up. She didn't care anymore and I couldn't blame her.

At the end of the day it had all been my fault, because I took the girl I had at home for granted.

TAG LIST:

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[intheholler]

I'm finding myself having less and less patience with people who make fun of Southerners and Appalachians (and rural people in general, though I do find it interesting how they always use our accents to mock all rural Americans...)

I follow a few Appalachian creators on tiktok who post recipes and the comments on their videos are always full of people making fun of their accents. "Um, where can I find 'oll'? I went to the store and all they had was oil 😂" or "'Worsh' must be some new technique I've never heard of!" Or even just basic insinuation that the creator isn't smart and that the food looks gross. It's annoying. I always wanna shake these people and make them remember that making fun of someone's culture is shitty! Just because they've been taught not to respect our culture doesn't mean it's not one.

I do also see lots of comments from the other side, though! Things like "You sound like my mamaw! 🥰" or "As soon as I heard you say 'cast iron' like that I knew the recipe was gonna be good' or "Ooh, nobody can make cabbage taste good like someone from the holler!"

I love seeing the kind of pride that comes from leftists like me who grew up there. I love living outside of Appalachia and making the people around me hear my accent and eating my recipes. I love thinking about the gifts that our home has given to people all over the world: foods, technology, music, inventions.

Basically, thanks for your blog. I love the perspective you bring to Tumblr

"as soon as i heard you say 'cast iron' like that i knew the recipe was gonna be good" YES that's what we wanna see when it comes to comments on our accent 🤩

speaking of, i maintain that the best way to change minds is doin exactly what you yourself are doin--sharing the food, culture & the overall beauty of appalachia complete with its inherently leftist ideals... in a thick ol fuckin accent.

dizzy em with cognitive dissonance until they have no choice but to accept they may actually be wrong! back when my accent was virtually undetectable, i used to love dropping the "oh btw, im from the south" bomb on em after they got to know me and respect me

but unfortunately, yeah, it's too easy for those kinds to just keep being ugly. takes far less effort to crack stale jokes, speak ill of us and call us stupid at every opportunity than, idk, confronting bias and growing as a person. i wonder if we'll ever stop being the butt of their jokes. probably not. fuck em.

anyway, amen to all you said. i have exactly zero patience for it now honestly, especially after getting to know yall and having this little community that has cropped up around my humble lil blog. i feel more protective of our home than ever before and i been gettin loud about it

thanks for sharing your thoughts and for being here <33

[blaiddraws]

Is there a summary of the fulcrum au?

undoubtedly but i don't feel like looking for it so. quick recap!

twin dragons au -- ingo is Zekrom and emmet is Reshiram. the way it works in this is that they can be Either human Or dragon but not physically both at the same time. zero dragon traits in human form, etc.

which is why it's Really Freaking Weird And Alarming when emmet finds himself half-reshiram'd one day. (especially once he later realizes ingo is missing--)

anyway. ingo gets eeby deebied and something about the trip to hisui smushes his human and pokemon form together. and since he and emmet/reshiram are so closely connected it kinda. pushed back to him as well.

various side notes under the cut;

- ingo arrives in hisui with no memories, but does have a somewhat easier time regaining them, especially once akari shows up and helps him

- dad ingo. adopts akari. we love to see it

- he also isn't technically a warden but the pearl clan lets him do what he wants. they treat him like a person, for the most part, but not really like a Human, if that makes sense. he's treated normally but there's always a strange tone to most of his interactions with the residents of hisui.

- pearl clan also decided he must be a gift from sinnoh. adaman saw this, decided ingo is a gift from HIS sinnoh and actually belongs with his own clan. ingo ignores this and hangs out in the highlands the majority of the time. but does spend a lot more time with the pearl clan because they're the ones that found him and took him in

- meanwhile. emmet stays out of public eye for a hot minute. and by that i mean a month or so. which isn't that surprising considering his brother disappeared. people figure he's just trying to cope.

- but. he's driving himself insane he can't stay away from the subway that long he has GOT to get back. or he will die. (he says this, dramatically, to elesa). and there's no leads on getting him back to normal.

- (technically, he could take a trip to sinnoh and call up arceus. but with ingo missing he feels that leaving the region would be a bad idea and totally irresponsible.)

- so he just. Shows Up At Work One Day. all half-reshiram'd. as if there is nothing wrong. depot agents, after a moment of baffled staring, have to just roll with it.

- the Public, however. dhkshsksbsksjd

- all he can say is that he has No Idea why he is Like This (true) and it happened when ingo disappeared (true). "But why do you look so much like Reshiram?" "you expect me to know the answer to that?? i'm a train conductor." (blatantly skirting around the truth without directly lying).

- eventually unova accepts that. yeah okay their subway boss is fluffy now. weirder things have happened tbh.

- surprisingly enough, the whole thing stays pretty well contained within unova, ESPECIALLY nimbasa. emmet is THEIR subway boss and he's Going Through It. he deserves to be treated well. etc.

- ANYEEWAYE. cut back to hisui. ingo adopts akari etc etc etc. she starts helping him regain his memory. and the more things he remembers, the easier it IS to remember.

- once akari finishes the pokedex, he remembers a significant amount of his human life. not quite enough to be Normal, but a fair amount. (he also remembers some stuff from being a legendary dragon, but a legendary dragon is a LOT more long-lived than a human. there's a Lot there to remember. and is a lot more... nebulous of a mind than a human's.)

- akari takes him with her when she goes to fight arceus. ingo has a little chat <3. arceus puts ingo and emmet back how they were before, because they cannot exist in the long-term with their forms smushed together like that.

- (Emmet wakes up one day human again, doom-brains himself into thinking ingo died despite how that would be impossible (considering zekrom is literal deity, the embodiment of the concept of ideals.). spends like two hours like that before elesa and drayden and iris have to knock some sense into him.)

- arceus. like. because Ingo asked nicely, arceus retcons (not Really retcons because it knew ingo would ask this when it did it. time is weird) kyurem into having a human form. caveats of this includes. kyurem doesn't Know or Remember that they're kyurem. they can't shift into kyurem. etc. because kyurem shouldn't be able to have a human form in the first place because of their. them-ness. their existence. makes it impossible. but arceus makes it possible because ~hadwavey seals their power away and uses its own to keep the human form intact idk~ Arceus-ness.

- ingo and akari spend the next few weeks tying things up and saying goodbyes before they go home. (ingo goes around saying his goodbyes and expressing his gratitude to people. COMPLETELY forgetting to mention the very important fact that he was that one dragon guy. he goes around to the same people a second time, significantly more mortified, and explains.) (akari was there most of the time and let it happen. it was hilarious.)

- ANYWAY eventually ingo and akari go home. happy reunions time!!!

- (and then, of course. we get into what is almost like the postgame plot equivalent of the au dkshksdhksjsjd. Who Is Kyurem?)