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stsgluver · 1 year ago

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𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟒 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara can’t find the dvd anywhere and gojo has a decision to make

wc. 4k

tags. fluff, angst (kinda), reader is described as fem, possibly ooc gojo (my bad), cliffhanger-ish, any spelling mistakes blame on my cats, possible plotholes

a/n. several things to address: firstly my description of dvds and how they work ARE SO FLAWED IK DON'T JUDGE. secondly, look I get how rct works so not everything I say is accurate but like this is also about 2d men so who's to judge. finally I'm not too sure about this chapter so if its shit lmk BUT I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE IT THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT <333 ily all but I do have upcoming exams so the ending(s), won't be posted till possibly early February as I have to get back to studying :(

previous part / final part / series masterlist

“guys we’ve lost it.” nobara pushed up her mattress, phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she peered beneath the wooden slats. all there was was her suitcase and a bag from an expensive shop she’d convinced gojo to buy for her. “it’s gone. poof. here once and now it’s not.” the ‘it’ in question being the dvd they’d treasured for the last few weeks (well, yuuji and nobara anyways).

after gojo had taken the dvd – unbeknownst to the first years – nobara had ended up sleeping for the next fourty eight hours, and then afterwards spending several days catching up on the classwork she’d missed. she hadn’t had the time or energy to force her classmates into another movie night so now here they were, almost a week since it was last touched, finally realising its disappearance.

“do you want me and megumi to come help?” yuuji asked tentatively as he heard her curse as she dropped the mattress back down. nobara sighed, glancing around at the chaos she’d created. her room was a mess – drawers half open and half her clothes and books on the floor in case the dvd had slipped into a pile by accident.

“it’s not in my room,” she said adamantly, pushing her hair back from her face in frustration as she struggled to piece together the final moments she had with the dvd. she could remember sending megumi away, beginning her little day of research and even some of the videos she watched (the arcade and the christmas reunion), but then she fell asleep and everything was hazy from there.

“when was the last time you had it?” megumi asked and nobara felt her eye twitch like she hadn't retraced her steps a million times already.

“the first day i was off sick. i was watching a few–”

“without us?” the pink haired sorcerer cut in with a gasp.

“what else was there to do?” nobara argued back with no bite but he quietened down nonetheless.

a moment of silence settled between the three as each tried to figure out where it could have been misplaced or who could’ve accidentally picked it up. if nobara had dropped it somewhere outside of her dorm, could one of the older years taken it?

nobara was brought out of deep thought by yuuji flippantly asking: “did you watch any after sensei came to see you?” she froze at the implication of his words. at no point could she recall their teacher ever coming in to check on her – it had always been either yuuji, megumi or maki.

“what?”

several hours later, the three first years found themselves huddled on the benches, nobara in the middle and the boys either side of her. in front of them were the second years and gojo – the latter having said something to annoy maki as yuuta held her back from making a swing at their laughing teacher. the second year teacher was off ill today so the larger class meant that the three had a distraction as they tried to figure out what their next step was – if they even had one at this point.

the assumed facts were as such: the first years were no longer in possession of the dvd, and gojo had it. though there was little doubt that this was true, it didn’t stop them questioning the possibility – after all, megumi had pointed out, there’d been no alter in his behaviour whatsoever since the minute he’d checked on nobara. surely, even the strongest would be noticeably affected by a disk that immortalised a happiness and innocence he’d never be able to return to.

but then again, maybe this was just another thing that separated gojo from the rest of society. being the strongest came before all else, he didn’t have the time to mourn resurfaced memories.

“maybe he just doesn’t have it,” yuuji suggested.

“he has to,” nobara reaffirmed. at this point they’d exhausted all other options about where it could possibly be and surely they would have heard if one of the older years found what they had. “would he tell you if he had it?” she asked megumi.

“no,” megumi said quickly, shaking his head and leaning back on the bench as he looked over at gojo, “we… he wouldn’t talk to me about that. about them.”

“could we steal it back?” yuuji offered and nobara debated duct taping his mouth closed.

megumi scoffed, shaking his head, “he has six eyes. even if we tried, he’d know for sure it was us.”

“he already knows it was us,” nobara countered, not that she agreed with yuuji’s solution by any means. “which is why i don’t get why he hasn’t said anyth–”

“oi, you three!” the first years jumped apart from their circle, hearts pounding as gojo appeared before them with a smirk toying at the corner of his lips and his hands clasped behind his back. “whoever beats maki in hand to hand combat gets the day off tomorrow!”

“yuuji if you win, i’m taking your day off,” nobara called out as she trailed behind the aforementioned boy running to the centre of the field.

“okay!”

unsurprisingly, all three first years lost against the second year. megumi came closest to winning but when he tried to use his cursed technique, gojo countered it, catching him off guard and giving maki the opportunity to sweep him off his feet with her staff.

gojo found himself still laughing over megumi’s shocked expression as he fell flat on his back as he stepped past the threshold of his office. even after all he’d taught the boy in combat, with no cursed technique it was hard to overcome the zenin girl’s strength and skill she’d mastered to take on her own clan.

he let out a small sigh as the door locked shut and, for the first time that day, he was alone with his own thoughts.

dropping down into his office chair, gojo crossed one leg over the other as he pulled open a drawer. on the top of a pile of unread paperwork for the higher ups was the dvd the first years were so fixated on.

he wasn’t stupid; he knew eventually they would figure out he had it and, unlike himself, they’d been way less subtle once they’d put two and two together. yuuji’s speech had tripled in speed, nobara was way too keen on being anywhere but where he was and megumi… gojo couldn’t forget the guilt and hurt in the teenage boy’s eyes after telling him you were gone. it was here again, had been for several weeks, and it was only after stumbling upon the disk in nobara’s room that he’d understood why.

gojo gritted his teeth together as he held the disk up between shaky fingers. it was pathetic, he scolded himself, it was just a bit of plastic with memories lasered into divots in a never ending spiral. it wasn’t worth the heartache.

if he looked closely enough, he could see shoko’s name written on the centrepiece in faded black sharpie. after gojo had stumbled upon the old camera several years after graduating from jujutsu high, shoko had taken back the camera to transfer all of the old clips onto dvds and given him, herself, nanami and you your own copies. he couldn’t even remember where his and yours were anymore, in fact he’d pretty much forgotten about their existence until a week ago.

he wasn’t sure where shoko had lost the dvd for the first years to get their hands on it but he hadn’t worked up the courage to speak to her about it. he hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything more than just spin the disk between his fingers, cry about it for a bit, and go back to pretending he didn’t have the last remnants of his youth in his drawer.

gojo glanced between the disk and the laptop on his desk. it was the last step he needed to take to hear your voice again. it had been on repeat for the last week in his mind; you uttering his name and that innocent question, would you last beyond your teenage years?

he missed it, missed you so bad.

raising megumi was a lot harder without you there; you were his favourite after all, bridging the gap between the two when they bumped heads with their contrasting personalities. gojo was all rainbows and giggles and megumi was everything but. you were a happy medium, creating a balance that maintained order in the home you shared. it was a peace that megumi deserved after losing his parents.

gojo clicked his tongue, reaching across to press a button that opened up a space for the disk. slotting it in place, he clicked the device shut and held his breath as he waited. it took several seconds for the files to load and then there he was again, back in those fields under the large weeping willow that was your spot.

the video was paused, exactly where it had been left, except this time gojo could actually see the screen.

your face wasn’t in it, just his. his glasses were off – balanced on your head if he remembered correctly – as he used your lap as a pillow. one of your hands was holding the camera while the other was held over his eyes to block any sort of light. the only thing he could make out was your cursed energy.

you were nearing the end of your first year and whilst gojo was growing more powerful, he was also growing more and more reliant on his glasses to stop himself from becoming so overwhelmed with the constant information he received with his six eyes. he’d overworked himself that day, as he so often did, hence why you’d dragged him away from the school to the seclusion of the tree.

your questions about the longevity of your relationship weren’t meant to hold deep meaning, you just wanted to take his mind off of the headaches. gojo would choose thinking about you over the searing pain in the back of his head any day. yaga said that once he had a better understanding of his reversed curse technique it wouldn’t be so bad but until then it was just about riding it out.

gojo snorted at the notion. his reversed curse technique only marginally helped. you were what got him through the days when he’d lock himself in his bedroom with blackout blinds pulled down, hiding under his covers till he felt like he could function in society again.

he didn’t unpause the video, however, instead clicking onto the main tab with all of the files stored.

lifting up his blindfold and dropping it down onto the desk, gojo took a deep breath before he began scrolling. unlike when the first years were simply searching for the ones with their favourite thumbnail, gojo was specifically searching for the ones he knew focused on you.

he needed to hear your voice again, to play it on repeat until it became so ingrained into his skin he could feel your touch.

gojo halted the cursor over the familiar date of your birthday, clicking on it without a second thought as the video filled the screen. it buffered for a moment, giving him a view of the dorm he’d practically spent three years in (despite yaga’s constant complaints and reminders that dorms were segregated on gender).

in the corner of your room was a stack of plushies that he’d won for you at arcades, and your walls were covered in photobooth photos and polaroids of your group of friends. his personal favourite was the polaroid you had pinned just above your desk. it was the two of you on new years eve sharing your first kiss of the year, sparklers in hand and the faint pink of a firework in the background. on the bottom of the polaroid was haibara’s handwriting as he’d scribbled on the date and a small smiley face.

“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!” seventeen year old gojo sung in the video, swaying the camera side to side above a pile of duvet and pillows. you were somewhere in the middle, half asleep and trying to push yourself deeper into the comfort of your bed and further from whatever the screeching was in your room.

you’d never been a morning person whereas he, on the other hand, had a reserve of energy that never depleted. it was what made getting up at the crack of dawn on your birthday so much more entertaining for him. even as an adult, when the two of you lived together in the comfort of your own apartment, he would either force you to stay up until midnight or gently nudge you awake at 4am to tell you he loved you.

“satoru,” you whispered groggily when you gave up trying to ignore his awful singing, lifting your head up just enough to meet his eyes. he would have done anything to see you physically before him instead of watching you through the lens of a camera. to be looked at with love as you did and not a mix of fear and respect. “if yaga catches you–”

“i’m just singing happy birthday to my girl,” his younger self dismissed, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he preferred your bed over his, a softer mattress he used to argue when shoko would complain about him showing up at your shared dorm several nights in a row. that particular birthday, he was pretty sure she’d been sent on a training mission over in kyoto. gojo’s hand came into frame as he ran a gentle hand through your hair, giving it a little pat when you quietly hummed at the contact. “he can’t hate on me for that.”

“yes he can,” you retorted, rolling your eyes with a tired smile. gojo felt his chest tighten – two years without waking up by that very same smile after almost a decade of having it everyday.

“i’ll blame shoko,” gojo shrugged with a grin, kicking his legs up onto your bed, despite your small protest that he was taking up all of your space. like you weren’t just as clingy as he was.

you huffed out a quiet laugh, your elbow digging into your pillow as you rested your head in your hand to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. “shoko forced the strongest sorcerer of the modern day to enter the girls’ dorms? uh huh.”

“woah woah, i’m the strongest of all time baby, i don’t do second best,” he corrected, leaning down to give you a peck on the forehead. you scrunched your nose up at the contact, but even through the viewpoint of the camera, he can see how your eyes dropped down to his lips.

“i know you don’t,” you smiled and gojo dropped the camera down as he moved to give you your first real kiss of seventeen. present day gojo sucked in a breath, willing for himself to get through at least one several minute video of you until he started crying.

the kiss ended all too quickly as gojo shoved the camera back into your face, the flash causing you to squint and squeeze your eyes closed. “now smile and say cheese, you’re seventeen!”

“woo!” you cheered half heartedly, giving in to his infectious excitement. blowing the camera a tired kiss, you shuffled yourself back deep beneath your duvet. “now can i go back to sleep?”

“as long as i can stay.”

“fine,” you dragged out, though you both knew you wanted him to just as much. yaga be damned. the video ended several seconds later and an odd silence filled his office.

he’d only ever watched several of these videos once or twice – back when he still had you to curl up into his side and reminisce with him and laugh at nanami’s old haircut. if he was being honest, he didn’t even remember he’d recorded that (though he was glad he did).

gojo was more confident this time when he scrolled, his hands no longer shaking as much as they had been as he smiled at the life he once had. a life with you and geto.

this time he stopped at a thumbnail with the three of you; gojo holding up the camera high as the three of you posed like it was a photo. it was at one of only a handful clan events you had attended together, with both you and geto as gojo’s plus ones. he and geto were in matching suits and you were in a floor length dress that he’d spent way too much money on (but you looked so pretty when you tried it on he couldn’t not get it for you).

“hi this is mtv,” you clapped your hands together, “and welcome to my crib.” his younger self waved his hands around in the background (geto was recording), showing off the spiralling architecture that cost more money than fathomable.

gojo quietly laughed in his office. the politics of clans and these events were the last reason he’d ever chosen to attend them. seeing you all dressed up and running around buildings with a million rooms were right at the top. his favourite had to be when both the first years, shoko and utahime had also been in attendance, but after haibara’s death, hanging around with the clans that upheld the institution that killed their friend seemed distasteful.

“this is my in house art museum collection.” you led geto along one of the vast corridors, pointing into a room with dozens of framed canvases of art from all across the globe. “this is where i come in for inspiration and to truly just feel art you know?”

“i wasn’t aware you had skills beyond stickmen,” geto interjected and you raised both your middle fingers at him.

“art is subjective, di–”

“woah, i have standards to uphold here,” gojo cupped a hand over your mouth, stopping any expletive leaving you. you hummed in annoyance and the white haired sorcerer grinned, nodding his head over to a partially opened door. “we don’t need to argue when we have a whole cinema room to ourselves.” gojo remembered the stain of red lipstick you’d left on his hand when he let you go (you’d refused to kiss him all evening because of your makeup).

the cinema room was massive: rows and rows of sleek leather seats that looked out of place when compared to the aesthetic of the building. this was someone’s home, though it looked like anything but.

“this is my cinema room,” geto held onto the back of one of the chairs as he loosened his tie. he lowered his voice as he leant closer to the camera gojo was now holding. “we used to have two but daddy converted the smaller one into a sauna so now we only have this one,” he said with an upturned nose, and you could be heard giggling in the background at his faux disgust.

you nor geto were from the same wealthy background as gojo was and loved to poke fun at his high status background.

“oi!” an official that was supposed to be watching for any curses or curse users that tried to sneak into the event pointed a light into the cinema room. “you kids shouldn’t be back here!”

gojo laughed, throwing the camera to geto as he grabbed your hand and led you quickly down the stairs to another exit at the bottom of the stairs. geto turned off the recording once he’d grabbed a hold of the device in favour of focusing on not being caught. it wasn’t like there would be any real consequence – they were with gojo satoru after all.

the white hair sorcerer smiled as he thought back to the rest of the night. obviously, you’d all managed to get away – though he had suffered your wrath at the fact your legs weren’t as long as their’s were and you were running in heels. two strikes, but he’d made it up to you by taking you out for ice cream instead of going back to hear the speeches.

it wasn’t an exaggeration to say gojo would have done anything for you then.

gojo swallowed a lump in his throat as your last interaction came to mind. you were arguing, as you had been in the weeks up until megumi’s birthday as he inched closer and closer to being old enough to enrol in jujutsu high.

the only wish he’d ever refused to fulfil: keeping megumi away from jujutsu.

“he’s our responsibility.” you were yelling at him, desperate for him to understand your point of view and he was walking away. dodging your anger by going wherever his legs took him – anywhere but where you were. “we need to protect him. we can’t protect him if he becomes a sorcerer too.”

“i can,” he insisted, halting in his place to turn and look down at you. his cursed technique was activated, though there was no need for it to be, and all it did was frustrate you further.

“i nearly died today!” you countered, pointing to your neck with a faint scar. shoko’s reversed cursed technique was almost perfect, but not even that could fully erase the deep lacerations that had almost taken your life. “where were you? you can’t be everywhere and help everyone at the same time. it’s just not possible.”

“i can try.” his jaw was tight as he responded through gritted teeth.

“and if that’s not enough?” you didn’t need to see his eyes to know his were locked directly onto yours, daring you to continue. he wouldn’t hurt you, would never dream of it, angry or not, but how could you of all people doubt him? “what then gojo satoru?” you uttered his full name like it was an insult, “you may be the strongest but he’s not. i’m not. we’re mortals compared to you.”

“you’re my family,” his voice broke.

“yu and suguru were family once too.”

gojo clenched his fists at the memory, at the reminder he walked out after that. you were trying to get him to see your concerns, and he’d taken that as you blaming him for the outcome of your close friends. that was the last time he ever saw you; tears welling up in the corner of your eyes at his insensitivity, at his inability to admit that maybe, just maybe, he too was just a mortal.

everything you said was logical and made sense – he had almost lost you that day, having not initially received the message that you had needed backup as he was preoccupied with his own mission. by the time he had arrived, the curse had its claws dug deep into your skin and it had taken everything in him not to use hollow purple and bring the entire infrastructure down in seconds.

despite all he’d done to save you that day, he’d still lost you. he’d only delayed the seemingly inevitable by mere hours.

megumi sat up in bed at the sound of two knocks on the door. he highly doubted it would be yuuji since the pink haired sorcerer had only left several minutes prior, saying something about needing to meet panda.

to his surprise, gojo stood before him, hands in the pockets of his pants as he half smiled at the younger boy.

“is itadori here?” megumi hesitated before shaking his head. “good,” gojo held up the missing dvd, “we need to talk.”

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if ive missed anyone im so sorry send me a little reminder <3

#snapshot !#gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo fics #gojo drabbles #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x you #satoru #gojou satoru #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst

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tealvenetianmask · 6 months ago

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Blitz is dyslexic (petty post about why I'm right with proof from recent episodes)

Disclaimer: I don't have dyslexia, so I can't speak from personal experience, BUT neurodivergent people tend to find each other, and I've been very close with a few people with dyslexia, to the point where I've extensively edited their writing. I've also learned quite a bit about dyslexia while working in the education field. Okay- let's go.

I hear way too often (yes, I'm referencing a certain youtuber here) that Blitz can't have dyslexia because we sometimes see him reading and we sometimes see him writing without errors. So when he shows spelling and grammatical errors in his texts and notes to self, that must just be him being rude/trying to be cute/being lazy.

And if the errors were just slang and abbreviations, maybe the people making those arguments would have a point. But they're not. And I'm convinced that he has dyslexia. So what gives? Why the inconsistency (assuming it's an intentional choice on the part of the writers)?

Most dyslexic adults CAN write correctly with extra effort. It's just harder. In the learning disability world, we sometimes call it self- accommodating. With any disability, that means doing work that neurotypical people don't have to do in order to overcome the obstacle that the disability poses- and often, no one else sees that work or understands that it's necessary. For people with dyslexia, that often means that they have to check and double check their writing.

When YOU AND I (if we're both non-dyslexic people) write casually and don't put in effort, our spelling is going to be mostly correct. And if we use slang and abbreviations, it's a choice. When someone with dyslexia shoots off a quick text, it's going to look messy, and they'll probably only do it in a text to someone they're comfortable with. THAT IS THE DIFFERENCE.

Let's look at some recent examples from Helluva Boss.

Blitz is writing notes to himself here, so he doesn't have any need to make them presentable. Cute inside jokes with himself are possible (i.e. the horses and nicknames that we sometimes see), but the spelling mistakes here don't really make sense as jokes. They also wouldn't be easier to write than the correct words for someone who isn't dyslexic. Mok(backward S)ie isn't shorter than Moxxie, and remembr isn't much shorter than remember. The spelling is also phonetic, which fits with how many people with dyslexia spell in initial drafts. He just isn't watching for and correcting his mistakes, because why would he in this situation?!

Okay, different situation . . . the apologies. I would argue that Blitz IS putting in physical effort here, even if it's not emotional effort. He brings entire gift baskets full of his favorite foods for the people on his apology list after all. Here's what he writes to the DHORKS:

I think "sowy" IS meant to be cute here. It's not phonetic after all. He put a little effort into drawing them a cute little horse too. And then the cherubs . . .

I think this is pretty interesting. Blitz actually bothers here to fix his spelling mistake. He spells everything right on the inside too, even though he's telling these guys "fuck you." Notice that he runs out of room and has to write sideways. And notice the nice block letters on the front. In terms of why he's trying so much here, well, it's to prove to Stolas that he can put effort into apologizing to people, isn't it? And that means that the unintentional errors get fixed!

Now, Blitz tries to text an apology to Stolas (and obviously stalls for emotional reasons), and we see him typing it in real time,

Yeah . . . it's a combination of shorthand and just plain old misspellings. He's focused on choosing the right words, not on getting the spelling right, and it's impossible to say he doesn't care at this point. Someone who has an easy time writing correctly spelled text might use some shorthand, but just like we saw with Blitz's notes to self, they wouldn't likely intentionally misspell completely unnecessary things, especially when trying to come off as genuine.

Sigh. I rest my fucking case.

If you'd like to see my thoughts on that text conversation from Western Energy, go ahead and click on the link- it isn't really about dyslexia, and I do actually think that Blitz is pretty literate in spite of his disability and limited education, but it does explain why I think the conversation goes the way it does.

#My helluva meta #stolitz #blitz #blitzo buckzo #blitzo #helluva blitz #helluva neurodiversity #should be obvious but this doesn't negate other neurodivergences that he clearly has #People rarely have just one condition

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mavcancees · 1 year ago

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how to adapt into dtblr culture for twitter refugees

so you've decided to move here from twitter. welcome and congratulations. this post is basically a big warning that goes THIS ISN'T TWITTER, DON'T BEHAVE LIKE IT IS, LEAVE THAT AT THE DOOR

i'll be teaching you two things, how the site works, and how to adapt your behavior to tumblr ( and really, normal human being ) culture. believe me, it's not that hard and it will actually feel very productive

let's start with the basics and frequent questions

your username can be anything, don't stress about it

your picture can be anything. a lot of us don't even have dteam related stuff up on our profile

your display name doesn't have to be your name. nobody is going to see it when you post, only usernames are visible

check your settings. do it. get familiar with them. turning on and off asks, turning anon off, turning submissions off. click on your blog, go to blog settings, check things there, go to account, your muted things will be there, go to dashboard and customize that. use your settings !!!

yes, pinned posts are fairly important and they tend to be pretty extensive. name age what you post about ( a lot of people here are multifandom !), just don't overshare ( no locations no trigger lists i beg you ). they also usually have a breakdown of your tags at the end

tags

it's a whole thing. some are actually useful. some are just passive commentary

the tags you put on posts ( both when you made the post and when you're reblogging something ) are both global and hosted on your profile. it's why you'll see things like "nameofperson art" rather than just "art". using just "art" will put you in the promoted tag, in this case

you can use spaces on your tags

usually you will tag what type of post you're making ( art, text post, ask post ), and then the contents keep in mind this is how people often mute things, some people tag the current situation, people use and mute ship tags. but this is also how people find things, like the specific asks from one person to another, so "username ask" is commonly used, "irl person ( dream, dnf, etc )" is also seen a lot just watch how others tag things and copy them. nobody will get offended you took their tag formatting, most of us will appreciate properly tagged posts

you do tag when you reblog people. you use tags to comment on things. don't really use replies unless you're, saying thank you to someone or pointing out a spell mistake or asking to add an option to a poll, etc. we don't do replies, just rb your reply

quick reblog and like deets

post popularity is measured in "notes" which is the sum of replies, reblogs and likes. we don't really care much about numbers here and if you start getting crazy about it people will not like it. this is more of a talking and showing site

you can reblog without tags, feel free to

you can hide your likes. you can and should like as many things as you want. they don't alter any algorithm, since there's none. a like is a "i saw this post" notification to the poster

actually posting

people talk a lot. a fucking lot, and it's something you will have to get used to, because it's very different from twitter

there are no qrts. callouts are looked down upon. breathe. if you don't like something MUTE IT DON'T POST ABOUT IT, because no one is going to listen to any callouts. you will have to learn to live with the fact people like things you don't. this will, with time, make you feel very free

the bulk of posting here is asks, as you might notice soon. asks are fun and encouraged. just don't name drop if you're talking about drama please ?

don't be scared to send asks off anon, this is how people will find you and get to know you really. people are also more likely to reply to you

block bait anons. yes you can block anons. yes it will block every blog they make

culture time

i've said this. tumblr is unserious. drama here is approached very differently and with several less layers of panic. you will see death threats. you will see slurs ( said in non derogatory ways ). you will see jokes about serious topics. you will see people say "i didn't like this" and nobody will care

tumblr is a community of individualism. you will like your own things within the thing we share we like. you might not like dream's music, you might not find irl streams entertaining, as long as you're fucking normal about it ? nobody will care and you're free to express your opinions. people will even come ask you about it and just have a chat. we're here for the same content to some degree

tumblr is also a bunch of people who understand they like another bunch of people. that none of the streamers have stopped being human. so you might see people defend things that, maybe, you'd not have thought to defend before. maybe you're even uncomfortable seeing them defending it. this is something you will experience a lot, and you'll learn to properly deal with it as time passes

because again. no one does callouts here unless it is extremely bad. no one cares if you don't really like them. and they also accept people might and will not like them. and that is fine. and that doesn't make either person horrible. you're just different people. and you don't even have to interact

you want to make friends ? ask people things, compliment people's work, genuinely attempt to make conversation. this is not an impersonal website the way twitter is. people don't care about your opinions because they care about you, and you are more than what you don't like

the more positive and jokey and interactive you are the more people will talk to you. there's no "hitting the algorithm", there's no "engagement", it's just people talking to people. so don't be a neg posting bot, and be a person

you will learn to be less miserable. you learn to stop giving a shit and just do what makes you happy. they cannot get you here. there's no qrts. the few antis you'll find can be blocked and you'll never have to directly interact with one. don't be mean to the people in your own community, even if you disagree

again, you are more than what you don't like. learn to be what you like instead. and leave the dooming at the door

#pyon long post #if you have any questions feel free to ask #i will be happy to attach them with a reblog

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boiohboii · 1 year ago

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The surprising match

(Max Verstappen x Korean actress reader)

SOULMATE AU

N.B: this is just an idea that came to mind cause I am a hoe for soulmate aus, so if you know any f1 soulmate aus please tell me! WARNINGS: ONLINE HATE, THE WORDS WHORE, SLUT AND DICK ARE USED. SWEAR WORDS LIKE FUCK AND ASSHOLE ARE ALSO USED, if I missed anything please let me know! And obviously some spelling mistakes.... might do a part 2 idk yet

Faceclaim: Han so hee

SKENTNEWS.COM

Liked by doO_nct, realstraykids, maxverstappen1 and 4.8M others

YN99LN: had too much fun this week, thank you everyone for showing my new drama this much love

username: BOY IF YOU DON'T STOP

username: Max really has no idea what being slick is huh.

username: I hate you

username: slut

username: I really hope this fun didn't involve the vroom vroom boy

username: vroom vroom boy 💀😂

username: ikr, can't believe we might lose our queen

username: I'm in Spain without the s

username: low quality picture, high quality woman

username: show off

username: when you're YN LN but still take 144p pictures

username: the struggle is real

Liked by agustd, saythename_17, danielricciardo and 6.8M others

YN99LN: Canada, you are so kind to me. I want to stay with you

username: so who is Canada?

username: you know who else is in Canada? MAX FUCKING VERSTAPPEN

username: this is definitely about Max

username: DANNY WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

username: no because if this is about max and she's happy about the fact that he's nice it's too sad cause wtf has she been through

username: you really don't wanna know

username: all my homies hate what people in SK did to her

username: oh my god, stop showing off you bitch

username: I hope you die

username: I feel like a victorian man seeing collar bones for the first time

username: IKR!! something about her collar bones!

username: as an f1 fan this community is so weird

username: collar bones? Really?

username: I feel like I entered another universe

username: is she drunk in the first pic?

username: yes, this whore just gets drunk and has tattoos and smokes, she's the worst

username: I was gonna say that it's so hot of her to post a pic like that

username: stay pressed you asshole

username: the second and last pictures tho

username: I am just a hole yn

username: bend me over your knee and slapp my cheeks ma'am

username: the leather pants and glasses are so 🔥

username: it gave me a boner and I don't even have a dick

username: I have a dick and now I am in the shower

username: everyone horny for yn

username: good for nothing pampered slut

username: I hope max leaves you

username: I hope he hates her

username: I read that she smokes as well and while I am against the action and stand by the fact that it's not cool to smoke seeing a South Korean famous person do that shit is so wild for me and turns me on

username: I want to chock on her boot's heel

username: yn please spit in my throat

username: wikihow please tell me how to give head

username: the 2nd picture makes me want to give her hickeys all over her back and shoulder

username: step on me

username: you f1 fans are wild

username: this comment section passed the vibe check

~this post has been removed~

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #charles leclerc #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen smau #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen soulmate au #f1 soulmate au #f1 social media #f1 twitter au #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you

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mysticmonkeybusiness · 5 months ago

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Prompt: post s5, Mac goes to find Wukong and find him he does, along with a broken mirror; given by @visionaryscribe

He never knew the world could get more obnoxiously loud. The change was slow, but at this point Macaque’s certain it’s a side effect of shattering the five stones of creation. Now he can hardly step foot off Flower Fruit Mountain without reducing his hearing to human levels. Human. At least at demon levels he can still hear magic, but he’s practically crippled like this.

But it’s like the kid can’t go one day without getting into trouble, so Macaque sucks it up, deafens himself, and finds time to check in on him regularly. Wouldn’t want another world ending disaster to go unnoticed until it’s too late to do anything about it.

It becomes routine. A boring, straightforward task with little to no surprises outside of the mundane shenanigans MK and the dragon girl get up to. After a few weeks of this, Macaque makes the mistake of letting his guard down.

He lingers a little longer in the shadows of MK’s room, watching the kid draw. This is the most relaxed he’s seen the kid since the pillar. It relaxes him in turn, something within him unwinding and feeling a little less like the world is actually out to get him. The moment he hears the pig come up though, he makes his exit. The kid is getting better and better at spotting him and without a distraction keeping him from looking up, Macaque doesn’t like his chances of remaining unnoticed.

Returning to Flower Fruit Mountain is simple. Removing the deafening spell takes barely a thought.

Or it should.

It’s still too quiet and he wonders how he could have messed up a spell he could cast with his hands tied behind his back. Recasting the spell does nothing to fix things. Frustrated and assured he’s alone, he rips the glamour on his ears off as well to no change. His breathing hitches as he clutches at his ears and reflexively expands his range.

To his surprise, it works. It only takes a second for the thought to hit him with all the force of a certain red and gold staff.

Wukong’s not on the mountain.

With more panic than he’d ever admit to anyone – only because if Wukong’s missing, he must be getting into trouble – Macaque scrambles to locate peaches-for-brains and has to stop himself from slumping in relief at finding the white noise of Wukong’s magic at the temple on the mainland.

He tells himself it’s a reasonable response at finding out Wukong hasn’t brought some world ending disaster down on their heads.

Macaque finds it a bit strange though. Wukong’s been spending most of his time split between his hut and the noodle shop. If he wasn’t being an overprotective mother hen, he was lazing around in his hut and gorging himself on fruit.

Lingering adrenaline and piqued curiosity is enough to have him shadow portal to the temple. He grimaces as he adjusts to the noise volume, suppressing his hearing as best as he can without magic.

The sharp tang of copper lingers in the air and sends his adrenaline spiking yet again. When he finds Wukong he’s going to punch him in his stupid face for giving him this much stress.

He follows the smell of blood to the bathroom and immediately zeros in on the Great Pain of Heaven. He found Wukong alright, along with a shattered mirror.

Curled in on himself, Wukong’s claws are digging into his skull and his heartbeat so rapid that it’s likely without the immortalities he would have given himself a heart condition.

Glass crunches underneath his boots as he steps closer, but Wukong doesn’t even flinch. Worry breaks through his denial and he crouches barely a handspan away, eyes catching on the pinprick pupils, the glittering glass sprinkled amidst sunset orange fur, and the already healing scratches on Wukong’s face. Almost entirely hidden beneath his curled hands, a long, shallow slice on his temple tells him exactly what set this off.

A slow wave in front of his face doesn’t even make him blink. Wukong’s clearly not registering anything he’s seeing.

“Wukong,” he murmurs softly, trying to snap him out of it without touching him and possibly setting him off further.

Macaque should have expected something like this to happen, but with the damn circlet long gone, he thought they managed to get past it without an incident. Figures Wukong wouldn’t deign to have his breakdown when he is around someone that could help him.

MK would be better for this. Even out of his mind, Wukong would never hurt the kid. His instincts wouldn’t let him.

Macaque doesn’t have that assurance.

Claws twitch and dig further until there’s the distinct crack of hitting bone. Before he even registers the lump in his throat, Macaque is reaching over and ripping Wukong’s hands away from his head. Any damage he could do removing them would be nothing close to what Wukong could do to himself.

Like he has nothing better to do than cause Macaque problems, Wukong immediately begins thrashing, mouth open in a silent scream. He’s thrown off, but picks himself up, hurls himself at Wukong, and sends them both through a shadow portal back to Wukong’s nest.

As he had hoped, the change of location sends Wukong off balance. It’s enough to let Macaque pin Wukong to the nest and reinforce the hold with his shadows. Wukong still struggles, but slowly, that resistance fades away as the differences in his surroundings start trickling in. Familiar scents instead of blood. Comforting fabrics instead of sharp glass.

Capitalizing on the opening, Macaque thinks to himself, Can’t believe I’m doing this, and makes a low, rumbling purr. It almost hurts at first, having been centuries since he’s worked these particular muscles, but it gets easier as he keeps it up.

Beneath him, he can feel the gradual way Wukong relaxes. With his hands occupied he has to use his head to nudge the side of Wukong’s in encouragement, keeping the purr up all the while.

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, but by the time he feels safe enough to let go of the restraints, he feels exhausted. Wukong, the prissy princess, tensed up again every single time he so much as let up on the pacifying gestures. He leans back just enough to see Wukong’s face and has to fight the urge to strangle him when he sees the idiot is asleep.

Faintly, he considers portaling back to his own bed, but frankly, even that’s too much effort right now. Besides, after what Wukong put him through, he can deal with waking up next to Macaque. He lowers himself back down, this time on the side and gets the source of all his problems curling into his chest for his efforts.

He contents himself with the fantasy of kicking Wukong away and wraps an arm around him because Wukong might as well make himself useful as a blanket. His eyes slide shut and he takes a deep breath as a scent that never fails to register as safe despite everything that screams otherwise fills his nose.

Macaque never sees the way eyes peek open a sliver before falling closed once more.

#lmk #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #shadowpeach #lmk shadowpeach #lego monkie kid #my writing #ficlet #lmk season 5 #lmk season 5 spoilers #not too satisfied with this one #but it's done #also this one wouldn't stop growing until it reached 1.2k ugh

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physalian · 7 months ago

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Physalian’s Draft-to-Final Editing Process

This is *not* the only way to edit, nor necessarily the correct way, nor even what *you* should do, alright? This is just, generally, what I try to do that might help some beginner writers not get overwhelmed by the daunting task of cleaning up their work. I’ll even do one process for fanfic and one for original works.

Fanfic!

Get an idea. Start writing that idea without planning anything

Get 10k words in and realize I’m onto something

Start a bullet list of ideas I want to include before I forget them

Keep writing, full speed, this train only runs in one direction

If I get stuck, start scripting around my dialogue and keep on keepin’ on

Get stuck again. Figure out where the plot problem is. Go back and fix the plot problem while it’s still a seedling

Finish the first draft

Go back and clean up grammar mistakes, spelling errors, continuity, flow, and holes as I come across them

Check again for spelling errors

Reformat on the fanfic site in a fresh font and line spacing to check once more for spelling errors

Post

Original works

Fanfic steps 1-7

Edits round 1: Continuity and plot errors, repeat details, dragging conversation and threads, catching grammar and spelling errors as I see them

Edits round 2: Grammar, spelling, syntax, and punctuation errors

Edits round 3: Crutch words— big one for me remains “just”—and overused metaphors, similes, and actions like too many shrugs, sighs, huffs, or eye-rolls

Edits round 4: Big picture time. Assure the themes and motifs I want to explore are adequately represented in the clean manuscript, sprinkling more in where necessary

Edits round 5: Speed read the entire manuscript for lingering pacing issues

Beta readers

Cry at the issues they point out that I didn't see

Implement valid beta suggestions

Repeat steps 1-6

Big, expensive editor

TBD, haven’t actually gotten that far yet

#how to write #editing #fanfiction #fanfic #writing a book #writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing #writeblr #on writing #writer stuff

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mastermindmiko · 1 year ago

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Enigma

pairing: Sirius Black + fem!reader

word count: 2207

Summary: After sirius moves in, you find it harder to keep your feelings hidden, but when you go back to hogwarts, you start to realise that maybe you're not the only one who has those feelings

Warnings: none, I think maybe some spelling mistakes

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

requests are open

an: In a few days, another Sirius + James' sister one shot will be posted. lmk which one you liked more.

He was what every girl and almost every boy wanted. He had the most beautiful hair and the most charming smile. He was charismatic and chaotic in every good way. He fulfilled some people's fantasies by spending a week with them, but he never stayed for longer than that.

To most people, Sirius Black was a complete enigma, but not to me. He is best friends with my brother, and he'd always come spend a few days with us during the summer, but last summer, he came to stay with us permanently.

I, like most of the Hogwarts' population was in love with Sirius Black. What differentiated me from the rest of them was that I actually knew him. Or at least as much as I could with my brother around constantly.

"Honey! Come down for breakfast!" I heard my dad shout, and I hop off my bed. It was Dad's turn to make breakfast today which made me excited. I loved my mom with every fiber of my being, but I could not ever love her cooking.

I open the door, and I stumble into Sirius. He was coming out of his room just like me. He's room is right across from mine, and the only thing separating them was a narrow hallway. James' room was right beside mine, but he mostly bunked over at Sirius'.

"Hi." I say when he's face to face with me. He gives me a smile, and I nearly faint. He really did have the most charming smile to have ever existed. He asked, "So, Monty's cooking today?"

"Yeah."

"Score!" He said, excitedly. Knowing Dad, what could be awaiting down stairs could range from bacon and eggs to his wonderful pancakes, I really hope he made the pancakes. Sirius steps closer to me and holds my hand. I also hope that he doesn't notice the way my cheeks turned red at the action. Sirius said, "Come on, let's go."

He started leading me down stairs, and I couldn't help but smile. this was the bright side of having Sirius over for the summer, getting to spend more time with him, and not having to worry about him every second while he's with his horrible family.

"Wait up!" James says from behind us, and I groan internally. James jogs up to us and puts his arm around my shoulder and around Sirius'. He separates us with his body, and I feel the need to smack him. I can't though because who knows what my brother will do if he finds out about how I feel about Sirius.

"Potters! How are you this fine day?" Dad says, and I grin. I look at the table that he has set, and I notices the pancakes. I celebrate my triumph and head to the table. I head to sit at my usual place, but Sirius beats me to it by pulling out my chair for me. I grin at him gratefully, though the behavior is odd. James sits opposite to me. Dad sits at the head of the table, and mom's seat is opposite to him.

I feel the chair next to me get pulled out from under the table, and I look up in surprise to find Sirius going to sit next to me. James notices to, so before Sirius can be fully seated James shouts, "Oi! What you doing over there?"

"I wanted a change for a bit. Besides now I can see you better without having to break my neck." Sirius teases James and gives him a flirty wink. James looks at Sirius suspiciously, but drops it when dad puts James' plate in front of him. I feel butterflies at the fact that Sirius decided to sit next to me.

James shoves a large piece of food in his mouth, and he moans at how delicious the food is. He gulps it down, and looks at dad to say, "I wish you could cook for us everyday."

"Why's that James?" Mom says, coming down the stairs. James pauses and looks at mom scared. She heads towards the table and Sirius greets, "Good morning, Mia."

"Good morning, Sirius." Mom greets back and pulls out her chair to sit. She sits down, straightens her clothes then looks back at James. She repeats, "Why's that, James?"

"Because uh because you work too hard everyday and deserve to rest." James stutters, and I hid my grin behind my hand. Sirius on my right is doing the same as me. Mom hums, satisfied by James' answer, but not believing it one bit. Mom turns to me to ask, "How are you feeling, Honey? This years a big year."

It is. I get to take my OWLs and that means studying all the time, except when there's Quidditch of course. OWLs are very very important, and if I want to be an Auror like mom and dad I need to ace them, which isn't an easy feat. I feel my stomach bubble in nervousness every time I think about the exams. I reply, "Fine."

"You don't have to worry dear, I'm sure you'll do great." Mom reassures me, but it quite frankly does very little. James says, "You're a huge nerd, you'll do well."

I'm not sure if what James said could be categorized as an insult or a compliment. Dad jumps on the supportive train and says, "Besides, if you ever need any help your two brothers can help you."

My face scrunches up at the idea that Sirius is my brother. It makes me feel icky, but I hide my displeasure by giving dad a thankful smile. I wondered if Sirius thought about me that way, too. He's known me ever since he's known James, and as James' younger sister, I wouldn't doubt that he feels some sort of sibling connection between us like the one he feels with James.

"We need to get going, the train will leave in thirty minutes." Sirius said, and I glance up at the clock to find out he was right. I quickly munch on my food and so does everyone else. I needed to check that I have everything I need before we get going.

It doesn't take us a long time before we're on the train. I say goodbye to my mom and dad, and they rush to get to work before they're late. We go to our usual compartment where Remus and Peter are already waiting. I squeak in excitement when I see Remus, and jump into his arms.

I laugh as he embraces me just as tightly. Remus was my closest friend out of all of the boys, and I would say my only friend. Being siblings with James meant that it was hard making friends because everyone wanted me to get to him.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around my middle and pull me away from Remus. I frown at the action, and turn around to tell James off, but instead I see Sirius. My frown depends. Remus sits back in his seat, and before I can sit next to him, Sirius beat me to it. Sirius seats me beside him, and James sits next to Peter, opposite to us.

They all chat about their summers before Remus has to go to the Prefect's compartment for a meeting. I try not to think about Sirius' odd behavior and I try not to think about the way his arm hasn't left my waist. My heart hasn't stopped racing ever since he put it there.

Remus leaves the compartment and leaves a few sad faces as he goes. I grin at my brother's childish antics, and Remus reassures them that he'll be back as soon as he can. Remus waves to me and gives me a smile. I do the same, and I once again, pretend that I don't notice the way Sirius' arm tightens around me. The action however brings James' attention to the situation.

"Um, Padfoot." James says, glaring at Sirius' hand that's around me. Sirius frowns and then notices his arm. He pulls it off me and I feel cold at the loss of contact. Sirius apologizes sheepishly, "Sorry Prongs."

"You better not be thinking about my sister like that." James says, half joking, half dead serious. Sirius chuckles, but there's a tinge of nervousness to it. He replies, "No way, you know that Glynnis is my only girl."

I couldn't believe that I felt jealous, especially jealous of a girl who's twenty years older than me and a famous seeker.

~~~

I may be an idiot and I wouldn't be surprised if I am because I'm thinking that maybe this year is the year that Sirius Black falls for me. He's been acting strange, but in a good way. It's only a few things that I've noticed, they're all subtle, but they mean the world to me.

My only problem with these new actions were that they would all be perceived as protective...in a brotherly way. The thought alone is enough to make me gag.

"Potter and Black."

I look up to see that Professor Slughorn has called out the names of the partners. I hate Professors and their need to force inter-house unity. I look to find Regulus not moving from his place but his previous partner packing up his things.

Regulus doesn't move an inch, and doesn't even look at me. I roll my eyes, and head over to his desk with my stuff. Merlin! I hope this is at least a bit bearable. I huff and place my stuff on his- our desk. He doesn't say anything when I sit. I purse my lips and let out a polite, "Hey."

He hums, but doesn't look at me. Professor Slughorn starts to talk about the lesson, and so he starts to jot down some notes. So this is how it's going to be for the rest of the semester? Great. I pull out my parchment paper and start writing down some notes myself, but much less vigorous than Regulus is.

Regulus takes the lead in the potions making, and I'm not complaining. Potters have always been great at potions, but the tradition ends with me and James. We're complete messes when it comes to potions. It broke our dad's heard, but our love for Quidditch mended it again.

"How is he?" Regulus randomly whispers, and I could barely hear it. I frown and look at him confused. I ask, "What?"

"Sirius, how is he?" Regulus says, and continues to chop up whatever ingredient he has and places it in the potion. He isn't looking at me and my heart breaks a little. He still cares about him. I reply, "He's good."

Regulus doesn't reply, but nods his head. Regulus is much like Sirius when he was younger. Up until third year, Sirius was quiet which seems impossible considering how he is now. Sirius lacked confidence due to the way his parents raised him. He always said that being sorted into Gryffindor saved him. I wonder if Regulus was the same, except he didn't have anyone to save him.

"If you um if you ever want to talk or something like that, I'm here." I whisper and for the first time. Regulus looks at me. He looks like a mix between surprised and confused. He clears his throat and looks away. He continues to do whatever he's been doing. He says, "We're going to talk anyway."

"We have to get the project done." Regulus says before I can inquire about his sentence. I notice that Slughorn's rambling on about some sort of project that each pair has to get done by a month. The bells ring and Regulus packs up his stuff quickly, leaving the cauldron for the professor to check. I say, "Bye?"

The Black brothers were definitely going to be making this year interesting.

~~~

"Where are you going?" Sirius asks me as I head out with several books huddled in my arms, heading to meet Regulus to get the project done. He's resting on the couch with his arms spread out just like his legs. I try not to stare.

"Since when are you interested in my whereabouts?" I tease him, and Sirius Black, Mr. Charmer, Sir flirting, blushes, and looks away. The action fuels my suspicions that my crush may not be unrequited anymore.

"Just in case James asks." Sirius answers, and I feel my heart plummet, but I still hold on to some hope. I nod and head out of the common room. I call out once I open the portrait, "If he really wants to know then he can check that map of his."

It's not that I don't want to tell sirius that I'm meeting Regulus. It's that I don't know where they stand. Regulus clearly still cares about his brother while Sirius hates his family, I don't know if that means Regulus included.

I'm already at the library, and I sit down next to Regulus, who already has some books open and writing something. I sit down, and Regulus quips, "Took you long enough."

"I'm two minutes late!" I chuckle, and Regulus wastes no time before saying, "I think we should recreate the polyjuice potion."

"But it's very complex." I say weary of the idea. Even the best potion masters have trouble making that one. Regulus says, "which will make it all that more impressive when we get it right."

"Alright, but you're the one who is trying it, not me." I say, raising both my hands as if I'm surrendering. Regulus smiles, a rare thing that I only get to see every so often. He says, "Only if I get to turn into you."

"I'll have a stack of hairs ready." I say with a grin. Regulus' smile falls, and I miss the presence of it. It made him look much less intimidating. His eyes fall to something behind me, and I look to see Sirius sitting between bookshelves, hiding behind a large book about women's problems in the wizarding world.

"We have a stalker." Regulus says, and I actually am surprised that we can so obviously see Sirius. He's always been the best hider out of all the boys, sans invisibility cloak, of course. I turn back to my work and huff, "He's protective."

"He's jealous." Regulus says, and I look at him bewildered. I scoff and chuckle in a weird way and say, "he's acting like that because he thinks I'm his little sister."

"Now, I know that incest runs in Black blood, but Sirius looks at you the way he looks at Glynnis Griffiths." Regulus says, growing more annoyed by Sirius' presence. I stand up. I sigh, "I'll get rid of him."

I walk towards him, and he fumbles on his book, dropping it to the ground. He picks it up quickly and steps deeper in between the bookshelves. I fold my arms in front of my chest and tap my foot against the ground. I purse my lips and then say, "I assume James put you up to this."

"Yes, definitely." Sirius replies in an instant, taking off the dark glasses that he's wearing. I narrow my eyes and him and fake ignorance, "Weird, considering that James has private practice with the beaters today."

Sirius turns viably nervous, very nervous. He looks down to the ground and fidgets. Does Sirius actually have feelings for me? All the signs are there. I take a chance, "Sirius, do you like me?"

"What?!! Why would you say that- I- what I...yes." Sirius sighs at the end and looks down at the ground. I don't say anything and watch him frown. He rubs his face, frustrated, "James is going to kill me."

"He'll just maim you a little." I say and take a step closer to him. I shrug my shoulders and suggest, "Besides, we don't have to tell him right away. We can just put the idea in his head and make him open up to it little by little."

"Wait? You like me?" Sirius says, eyes wide and shocked. I roll my eyes. Some boys are really just idiots. I don't answer him, instead, I pull his tie and kiss him.

I furthermore realise why so many people that were with Sirius never wanted to leave him. He was an amazing kisser. He pulls away and grins at me. He looks at me in a way that makes me feel like my insides are doing cartwheels. I ask, "What?"

"Nothing, you're just so much better than Glynnis."

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keigh0e · 2 years ago

Text

Friendzone ♥ Bakugo Katsuki

Prompt: It wasn’t just a one off for me; it was me hoping you’d see the connection

Word Count: 3.6k

Triggers: No spice, just fluff, some explosive behavior and naughty words

Author Note: Hi guys! This is my first ever post on this blog, I’d really appreciate some feedback. I’d also love it if you sent me some requests, check out this pinned post to see what anime’s I write for and find a very big prompt list

This is an unedited piece so apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes

Being Bakugo’s longest friend comes with its own perks, at least in your eyes.

You and Bakugo had existed together for as long as you can remember, your mother was best friends with his and they’d ended up getting pregnant around the same time which meant you went through school together. You followed one another to UA as well, and there was no doubt you’d start a Hero agency together, or at least share the same building… Maybe just the same street, depending on how overbearing Bakugo is with you.

You and him were petals flying in the same gust of wind, there was no questioning it, you were simply together.

That didn’t mean you avoided his wrath, you probably got it more than anyone actually, that was only because he knew you could handle it and even match against him.

But you also got all of his softness, it wasn’t as loud as his rage and it made itself apparent in ways most people missed, but not you, you were Bakugo’s best friend, your soul attuned to his.

His quiet softness appeared when he always rushed ahead of you to open a door for you, and when he’d stop mid sentence and kneel down to take care of your undone shoelace, or when he’d always step closer to you and wrap his arm around your shoulders because a stranger had gotten too close to you (or Mineta, but Bakugo normally kicked the little perv away before he got the chance to get too close to you).

There was only one time his softness became loud and that was at night.

You’d taken the UA move into the dorms as bravely as you could, but after a week you were homesick. The longest you’d ever stayed away from your parents was when you had a sleepover at Bakugo’s, that was usually only for one or two nights, plus, it was only a trip down the road.

You struggled with falling asleep and it didn’t take long for Bakugo to notice the change in you. The same day he finally clocked on to the bags under your eyes and the invisible weight slumping your shoulders, he snuck into your room that night.

As he got into your bed you asked what he was doing and he respectfully told you to ‘shut your face’. The next thing you knew, he’d wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you onto his chest, then his hand was running through your hair and sleep came so easily it swept you as easily as he had swept you into his arms. He hadn’t cured your homesickness, he’d done something much better than that, he’d given you a new place to call home.

That was also the night when the lines between friendship and something more started to get blurry. He was still your best friend, still protective and caring, still a pain in the arse. But suddenly, his hand always found its way into yours, his arm always around your shoulder even when no one else was around. And every single night, without fail, he came to your dorm room and snuggled up with you, petting your head before falling asleep.

You did try speaking to him about it once, but it didn’t go very well.

A month had gone by of him sleeping in your dorm room. Once it got to the weekend, you and Bakugo went for your routine coffee which you treated yourselves to every Saturday as a ‘well done’ for making it through another week of high school and surviving all the villian attacks.

You got a caramel latte while he went for a black coffee, after getting your drinks Bakugo walked you over to a table with his hand on your back and pulled out your chair before sitting down.

“So,” you began, and then you stumbled on what to say so you just blew on your latte to cool it down.

It had never been like this with Bakugo before, so stilted and awkward. He seemed to be noticing the tension as well as he stared down at you with a raised brow. “So?”

“So…” You tried to start again, tried to push through your awkwardness. “Are sleepovers a regular thing now?”

His whole body tensed, but that was the only sigh he gave that your question had affected him. “Yeah, that a problem?”

Yes, you wanted to say.

Yes, it was a big problem, because even after a month you got excited whenever it got to night time and your heart fluttered every single time he wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you so tightly against his body, as if to say ‘you are mine, and you’re not going anywhere’. You were 90% sure those weren’t feelings friends were meant to have for one another.

But, at the same time, the thought of losing that, losing him, was too painful.

You shook your head. “No, not a problem.”

“Then stop acting weird, you’re freaking me out,” he snapped, no real bite to his words. There never was.

That was that. You and Bakugo were still best friends, still hung out, still argued and every night, no matter what kind of day you’d had, you cuddled up together and fell asleep.

It became the new norm, as did living with your brewing emotions.

Until you and the gang had all decided to play a game together one night.

You and Bakugo could have only lasted so long, one of you would have broken eventually, you were just surprised at who broke first.

♥♥♥

You laughed along with Kirishima as Denki did his best opera impression, the noise filling up every crevice in the room and making you cringe to the point your teeth were grinding together.

On your other side was Bakugo, one hand covering his ear, the other resting on your bicep as his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“Will you shut up already?!” He yelled. Whilst you’d been coping with Denki’s singing, you did have to lean away from your friends as he yelled directly in your ear. Once he finished, he sent you an apologetic look and then used the arm around your shoulder to pull you closer.

“I caaaaaan’t!” Kaminari sang with a dramatic swing of his hands, “I was daared too serenade the ever-so-lovely Jiroooooooooouuuuuu.”

“She also wants you to shut up, moron,” Jirou hissed. Her words made it out like she was angry, but the blush on her cheeks and the fact she couldn’t look Kaminari in the eyes made you think she was feeling something else other than anger. Though, you may have just been projecting.

“Fine,” Kaminari huffed, arms flopping down at his side as he finished his performance. He gave you and your friends the gift of perfectly serene silence, for all of three seconds before he straightened up and pointed a finger directly at Bakugo. “As it’s now my turn, I choose you, Bakugo, to be my next victim.”

The hothead smirked, and you hated the way your stomach flipped at the sight of it. “I’m no one's victim, do your worst Sparky.”

The night had escalated after Mina had proposed a game of ‘truth or dare’, but you had an awful feeling stirring in your stomach when you saw the devious glint in Kaminari’s eye. You knew whatever Bakugo got given, he had too much pride to bow out.

“Truth or dare,” Kaminari asked.

“Stupid question, dare,” Bakugo replied.

“I dare you to kiss Y/N.”

You were the first to move, before Kaminari had even finished his sentence, you were up on your feet, putting space between you and Bakugo. “No, no, no,” you laughed, noticing it sounded more strained than joyful. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to?” Mina asks, her tone teasing. You’d been asked a million and one times if there was something more between you and Bakugo by your fellow students. It looks like no matter how many times you say no, they just don’t believe you.

“Yes, I’m absolutely sure,” you gruffed, doing your best Bakugo impression as you scowled over at Mina.

You take another step back as Bakugo stands up turning to face you, that usual frown playing on his lips and a surprising amount of determination in his eyes.

You’d seen that look before. The day he decided you were both becoming heroes, the day you decided to go to UA. That look only ever appeared whenever he decided something monumental and life changing. Normally you were filled with excitement when you saw that look in his eyes. Not on that night.

“What are you doing?” You asked whilst taking another step back. It became a new game for you and Bakugo, he took a step forward and you took a step back. Unfortunately, the wall behind you was closer than you realised and the next thing you knew, Bakugo was standing right there, centimeters from your face.

You’ve stood that close before, plenty of times, but never before had you been so aware of his body, of the heat emanating from him. When you looked into his eyes, you saw them solely focused on your lips.

He wanted to kiss you, wanted to break that line between friends and something more.

Is that what you wanted? You weren’t sure and Bakugo wasn’t giving you much choice as he grabbed your face and pulled your lips towards his, the momentum slamming the two of you together.

It started rash and rough, which wasn’t all that much of a surprise as this was Bakugo you were kissing. But then it hit you, the most achingly beautiful thing about every moment you’ve spent with Bakugo, his quiet softness.

The way he moved his lips against yours, guiding you rather than demanding you. It had you melting against him, your hands searching out his chest to relax on, your body leaning on his for support.

His own hands had fallen to your neck, his palm resting on your pulse point while his thumb stroked encouragingly against your jaw, gently moving the angle of your face so that he could explore your mouth further.

You would have given up a lot in that moment if it meant you could stay there in that embrace. Screw the line, it was boring. This, Bakugo’s lips, were exciting and awe-inspiring. He was everything, he was your everything.

“Alright kids, time for bed,” Aizawa appeared out of nowhere, or at least you hoped he had. If he’d watched you fall apart in Bakugo’s arms the way you just did, you weren’t sure how you’d face him in your next class.

You were meant to be a superhero, a badass, but when Bakugo pulled away from you, your lips tried to follow him and a whimper escaped before you could stop it.

You watched him take in your expression, you weren’t in control of it, too taken by how good it had felt to kiss your est friend and how shocked you were by how much you wanted to do it again. At best, you imagined there was a hazy and dim look in your eyes.

That determined look was still fiery in his eyes as he straightened you up so you weren’t leaning completely on his body. Then with a slight nod of his head and one more glance into your eyes, he said the very last thing you expected: “Talk to you tomorrow.”

You blinked at his retreating figure, so many questions floating through your mind as you watched him meander his way to the boys dorm rooms.

‘Talk to you tomorrow’? What did that mean? Surely it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to come to your room later? Right?

♥♥♥

That bastard wasn’t coming to your room. It would be the first night in months that you didn’t have him, and he’d decided it needed to be after he kissed you. He got you hooked and then took away your addiction.

Well screw him. He didn’t get to just do that, not to you.

There was a reason you were best friends for that long, because you could be just as explosive as him when you wanted to be.

The fact that you needed to sneak to his room ruined your ire a little bit, especially when you had to gently tap on his door when what you really wanted to do was knock the damn thing off of its hinges.

A few moments later a tired looking Bakugo appeared. It was well after ten O’clock at night so it didn’t surprise you to see a sleepy expression on your best friend, he was very strict about his sleeping routine and the conditions that he needed when sleeping. You didn’t mind most of the time because it just helped you fall asleep as well.

One rule you’d both always followed was to never go to sleep angry with one another, it stopped you from being able to fall asleep quickly, the anxious thoughts keeping you awake, and Bakugo obviously wouldn’t stand for that when his beauty sleep was much more important..

“What are you doing here Y/N?”

Not bothering to respond, you pushed past Bakugo, earning no resistance from your best friend who often let you have your way. Up until your kiss, you hadn’t though much about why.

“It’s bed time.” You simply answered, shuffling onto Bakugo’s bed and settling yourself on the side furthest from the door. That was Bakugo’s rule, not yours. He wanted to be close to the door in case someone tried to break in and he needed to protect you, when he’d confessed that to you, you’d just rolled your eyes at him.

He continued eyeing you as you moved the comforter over your knees, you met his stare head on, refusing to back down. “Exactly, both of us should be asleep, not knocking on my door.”

“Well I wouldn’t have to knock on your door if you’d come to my room, you know, like every other night,” you sassed back.

He averted his eyes from yours, something had flashed in them though before he’d turned away. Was it hurt? Or shame? “Well I guess things have changed now.”

“And that’s my fault?” It certainly felt like it was. You were the one losing your best friend, even though he’d been the one who’d kissed you. It was unfair, you’d been safely balancing on the line for years, not reacting at all to the way he’d make you feel sometimes. But now he was messing it all up!

He scoffed again at your words, just fuelling your rage. “Did I say it was?!”

“You kissed me Bakugo, then you just walked away and told me you’d speak to me tomorrow? I’ve been your best friend since the day I was born, I deserve better than that.” You were getting so passionate you’d started speaking with your hands, throwing your arms out and slamming your hands against your chest.

Your former best friend (at least for now) took several moments to take in your words, then he started walking over and you prepared yourself to get manhandled. Instead, he flumped down on his side of the bed, still not looking at you. “You’re right.”

“No, you shut up! Wait, what? I’m right?” He said you were right? Those were rare words form your best friend, you’d totally been prepared to have a screaming match with him, thats how your arguments usually went. You weren’t sure if this was some new tactic to try win arguments with you, so you chose to stick with being defensive. “Yeah, I am right! Glad we’re in agreement.”

Finally he looked at you. “Will you quieten down? Someone will hear you’re in here.” Those his words were aggressive, there was nothing on his expression that showed he was angry with you. He looked upset more than anything else. For some people it might have been hard to tell the difference, but you read his every feature like it was your favourite book.

So he wasn’t angry with you. Anger would make more sense than that upset expression on his face. You couldn’t figure out a reason for why he’d be upset, unless the kiss had been that bad? No, you realised, if it was bad then you definitely would have known, even if Bakugo didn’t tell you, you’d have been able to read it from his body if he’d not enjoyed it.

“The fact you of all people are telling me to quiet my voice is very laughable, I hope you know that,” you commented. Your voice had gone softer, the anger being swept away like the tide.

“Funny.” He responded, in a tone that held no amusement. He seemed to take a moment to do a deep breath before he continued to speak, finally explaining himself but still not looking you in the eyes. “I thought maybe you’d want space after I kissed you, I know it’s going to change things, I know how I want things to change, but I wanted to give you time to figure out what you wanted.”

“What do you mean?” You knew what he meant. You’d been thinking the exact same thing, but the difference is you weren’t as brave as Bakugo was. You needed him to continue being brave, because you couldn’t just step over that line, you needed his guidance. No, you needed reassurance that he’d be stepping over that line with you.

Maybe he knew that’s why you asked, maybe he heard it hidden behind your nervousness, despite you not saying it. He finally looked up and he even reached out, grabbing your hand in his. “It wasn’t just a one off for me; it was me hoping you’d see the connection.”

You looked from his hand in yours to his eyes, he was analysing you just as much as he was analysing you. “So you want to be like, boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, and it was almost laughable at how nice he was being to you in that moment. Of course, as soon as you thought that he had to go ruin it. “I mean, we pretty much are already, you’re always hanging off my arm and cuddling up to me at night, only difference is we’d be kissing, and you weren’t that bad.”

The thing is, you liked his backhanded comments, because you knew they were always just compliments disguised. He wasn’t loud with his kindness, and that worked well for you. He was loud with everything else, and nine out of ten times, it amused you.

So even then, as he tried to blame you for all the cuddling you’d been doing together even though he’d been the one who started every interaction, you were completely and utterly charmed. Whilst you may have said ‘so you want to be like, boyfriend and girlfriend?’ He had heard ‘I’m scared you’re not thinking this through and we might be risking our friendship’. And whilst he’s said a load of hot air, you heard ‘you’re who I choose, you’re worth every risk’.

“Uh huh,” you hummed in response. “Ask me.”

He blinked over at you. “What?”

A prideful look that matched Bakugo’s filled your expression as your stature straightened slightly. “You want to date me, then you need to ask me to be your girlfriend.”

“You’re a real pain in my arse, Y/N,” he groaned, letting go of your hand and flopping down on his bed beside you.

“Back at you.” You got comfortable beside him, snuggling under the blanket and turning to face him.

He was looking up at the ceiling. “Be my girlfriend.”

You frowned at that. Did he really think you’d agree so easily? Had he forgotten who his best friend is. “You gonna say please?”

Turning around, his arm automatically fell onto your waist. “You want to be my girlfriend, I don’t need to say please.”

“It’s polite Bakugo.” You admonished.

“After all these years we’ve been friends, you still don’t know I don’t care about manners, they’re just a waste of time.”

“Guess being your girlfriend would be a waste of my time then,” you tutted.

“Whatever. I’m done with this shit, I’m going to bed.”

“Fine.” Your words were terse but you didn’t budge an inch, comfortable in his hold.

“Fine!” He yelled, showing just how much you’d riled him up. You’d lying if you said it didn’t make you smile.

“Will you stop yelling? They might figure out I’m in here,” you hissed, mirroring his earlier words because you apparently weren’t done with pissing off your best friend.

His arm raised from around your waist to your shoulders, until he was shoving your face into your chest. “Shut up,” he hissed, smothering you. You slapped your hand against his chest three times before he relaxed.

Neither of you said anything, just fermenting in your annoyance towards one another for a little while before it faded. Anytime you argued with Bakugo, it would always fade, the feelings of anger or disdain taking off their mask and revealing themselves as something else, normally frustration.

Because you loved him, a lot, and you hated fighting with him. It was a difficult thing to avoid when you were both so spirited sometimes, but it didn’t matter, because that love you had for him was stronger than anything else.

It seemed Bakugo agreed with you as his hand lowered back down to your waist, crawling under your vest. He didn’t need his powers, just his touch had you feeling like tiny explosions were going off wherever his hand moved. He gripped you on the curve of your hip bone, his entire body stiffening.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low, giving it a rough tone that had you trembling in the most wonderful way. “Will you please be my girlfriend?”

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raavos · 1 month ago

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Fluff//Romantic//SFW Abc - Aaravos x GN!Reader.

Includes Touch/Physical Affection, small text, tooth rotting fluff, mentions of panic attack's and sadness, mentions fighting (Not detailed.) Established relationship. Characters: Aaravos, Gender neutral reader self insert. Authors note: My first Post on this blog, I hope you enjoy. 💗 This fanfic was made about 2 years ago so there's TONS of grammar mistakes and could be mischaracterization of Aaravos. I decided from the release of season 6 & 7 recently (7 still on the way as I write this.) I should FINALLY finish this draft, to clarify all bold text is shit writing done years ago and the non bold writing is fresh. :3 - FLUFF ABC TEMPLATE BY: @snk-warriors (Go check them out!) -

-V- WRITING BELOW THE CUT -V-

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them? He will love indulging you, sometimes he thinks most activities are silly or a waste of time. But when It's you, he's willingly playing games with you, or even becoming competitive. Though I imagine he has no need to eat or sleep. He will cook with you and sleep with you as well. Weirdly enough Sometimes he would lay awake at night with you in your arms, Watching over you..

(Sometimes You'll wake up in the middle of the night and make eye contact with him and get a fright. He'll laugh at you.)

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them? He is head over heels for you, how did you manage to get him like this? Who knows. He thinks you put a spell on him..He thinks of you like a deity, jokingly saying you could go toe to toe with Aphrodite to your dismay, Shushing him for his backhanded compliment as he laughs softly before kissing your hand as apology.

No matter what form you take, what Species you are, your size, weight, height, culture, ethnicity or gender.

He will love you deeply and unconditionally, he loves calling you 'Ravishing' or praising you. Aaravos is more focused on personality believe it or not, If you're nasty and rude he wouldn't like you to be his lover.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.? If you're sad and willing to follow him or indulge in his affection, he will lead you to your bedroom or couch, cuddling up with him as he litters your face with kisses and whispers sweet nothings and praise in your ear.

If you aren't wanting to be touched or talked to at the moment and just be left alone he'll respect your wishes, but he'll at least try get you to drink something, crying to much causes dehydration in his knowledge and he wants you to be optimal, even while in such a state.

If you are having a panic attack he's stays calm and sits with you, not touching you but staying close and murmuring soft, comforting words.

(Remember, ask if you can touch someone first If they're having a panic attack. Touching them without asking could make them panic more and make it worse.)

If you say yes or nod he rubs your back, holding you close as he speaks to you softly, kissing your head and wiping your tears away with his hand gently.

Holding you close on his lap wrapped in a blanket, crying into his chest while he holds you. Once you've calmed down he tells you to rest, Panic attacks can be draining. In a whole other scenario, If you don't want to be touched by him he'll listen intently just keeping you company or asking gently if you need anything.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o? Probably burning down Xadia together.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive? He's definitely the most dominant, Initiating most of the affection in your relationship and PDA No matter what if you're bigger than him or taller he can charm his way into flustering you.

He can take teasing, but not to much to the point where it's insults. Getting annoyed if you belittle him and telling you to zip it.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting? He's not the type to fight, but when you do It's mostly about small things. Whenever you fight He'll always try to one up you, annoying you further until you're forced to drop it. Of course he reflects on it and even during the fight you could mistake his teasing for mocking, he's stubborn is the thing.

He won't let you win, though when apologising he will. Sitting with you and saying sorry for the fight or 'admitting' He was wrong, In a way that makes you think your right, And in a way that lets him still be a smug little shit.

He'd mostly like apologising by flustering you or whispering things in your ears to tease you in attempt of making you laugh or blush. And using his body to apologise as well. With cuddles and kisses..Or..Something else.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them? He appreciates the fact you even like him. Hah, Aaravos? Insecure? Hah! Hah. Hah.. Haha....

Sometimes he does question it, Watching you do the simplest things like smelling flowers, Patting an animal. He questions it in his head,

'Why would they love someone like me? Are they Crazy?'

When you notice him zoning out or lost in thought you'll ask him what he's thinking about, and he'll laugh and brush it off. Even though you can't catch him staring, He's lovesick.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything? He doesn't lie, He just bends the truth. Of course he has secrets, And most he hides to 'Keep you safe.' He has a good reason of course, Whenever if comes to the topic he will steer you away, Charmingly. Though if you push he will sigh, Still not telling you but saying he cannot tell you. He'd never get frustrated with you but he is a bit annoyed.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems? I guess you could say he's more forgiving, He's.. 'Trying' To find the good in things. He thinks before he acts, Sometimes like 'What would _____ Do...' ....But it's short lived, 'Encourage me, perhaps.'

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it? Whoever he was jealous of mysteriously disappeared..

Or alternatively he is a little shit who shoots shitty glances and glares, cunning witty insults..ect.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like? Starstriking. Aaravos is a good kisser, it starts out slow and sweet..patient for a moment as his hand slips behind your neck, caressing it softly with his bigger hand. He is a very greedy man, and even sometimes he lets his calculated actions slip. Giving into his own desires as he indulges the pure love and desire he has for you.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o? Extravagant comes to mind at first, but not exactly. His declarations of love are meant for YOU, nobody else. It doesn't matter how they judge it or categorise it. He only cares about you. In other words, he would move galaxies and nebula for you, incinerate all of those who could possibly harm you. When it comes to dating at first..he's honestly a gentleman despite everything.

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like? Of course. Well, it's not a big intention but he is incredibly open to it and enthusiastic. To him marriage is a small human thing, a ring and a few words-..but it's not like he's trying to minimise it, he's simply seeing it as something so trivial compared to his love. He thinks of you as a crucial extension of himself. If you were gone it's like being cut in half. He would remove his own heart, push all the air that he breathes out and sacrifice it to you.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o? It depends. Corny things maybe, Starlight, Darling. You get the jist. Your interpretation is the only right answer.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings? Irresponsible. Breaking his own rules and bending past his crucial plans of revenge for you. It might seem small but he devotes a lot of time to you. He gives you trinkets that are so valuable selling it might break humanity's economy. Much more emotion is squeezed out of him, smiles that aren't hiding malice and gentle touches that don't intend any harm, he truly adores you. To you it may grow on you, but to others if witnessed they might be incredibly concerned

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching? Very much so. He does not have the problem of stopping people from flirting with him because he won't get them the chance. He is strangely considerate of you, something he is very much not most of the time. He doesn't want to give you anything that could be morphed into him loving another. He only wants you, your being that transcends reality's is so prominent and clear to him that death would not do you both part for even then he'd find you.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship. Everything

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative? Everything.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them? He's supportive and will put his own plan into fire to fit yours in. You're happy, he's happy.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine? Besides showing you the wonders of the earth and knowledge you cannot comprehend he shows you sides others cannot fathom exist. He does small things, to. Like remembering the tiniest details about you, contributing to a conversation with old facts about your life you told him and seemed to forget you told him even yourself, surprising you every time.

Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic? Yes.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life? His life. You're the light that illuminates his skin, the calcium in his bones, every beat of his heart fueled by your very presence and existence. He would cry a universe worth of tears for you if you ever parted him. Everything else in his life meant absolutely nothing compared to you. (..Besides Leola, of course. You both were on the same-ish level.)

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon. He adores horn scritches.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle? Of course. He loves adorning your skin and body with his lips, holding you was good to. If you share a bed, he holds you in his arms, chin resting against your head and arms snaked around the back of your waist of neck, hold the back of your head of rake his fingers carefuly through your hair. (..Unless your bald.)

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner? Tantrums and uncoordinated actions. His plans are out the window and his own goal is to have you in his arms or in his reach. If not possible for any reason he is more than Frustrated. Waiting was something you'd assume he's used to. But the fact he wasn't trapped in a prison anymore this ticked him off. Theoretically there wasn't MUCH stopping him..but presumably it would be frowned down upon by you. He dives into books, spies a bit and observes all around himself. No harm in being all knowledgeable

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of? He would destroy the very universe he resides in for you.

#tdp #tdp araavos #aaravos x reader #aaravos #the dragon prince #thedragonprince #gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader x aaravos #fanfic #tdp x reader #the dragon prince spoilers

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year ago

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Y/n finds herself desperately in love with Sam Kiszka with no sign of recovery. After months spent begging for a hint of reciprocity, she’s met with nothing but disappointment. Helpless with no hope for salvation, she resorts to drinking away his memory, and in turn only worsens her predicament. One messy hookup opens her mind to a whole different side of the friends she loves so dearly, and leaves her undeniably in lust with the worst possible person: his brother, Jake.

PAIRING: Sam Kiszka x f!reader, Jake Kiszka x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 190.8k | FINISHED

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (list of full warnings within each chapter), love triangle, pregnancy scares, mentions of toxic parents/financial abuse, drinking, smoking, swearing, angst, fluff, sorry if i miss any!

DISCLAIMER: I do not know Greta Van Fleet or any of the members personally. This is all fiction and I will never claim otherwise. I attempt to keep all of my work 100% original, so please do not steal or take credit for my writing. As of right now, I aim to get chapters out on weekends, but it is not guaranteed as I do have a full time job and other responsibilities to attend to. Please be patient and kind to me. Do not mind any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes, as I am the sole writer/editor for my blog and do miss things sometimes.

Pick your team - chapter 1-9 check in

Pick your team - chapter 9-11 check in

part one | teaser

part two | teaser

part three | teaser

part four

part five | teaser

part six | teaser

part seven | teaser

part eight | teaser

part nine | teaser

part ten | teaser

part eleven | teaser

part twelve | teaser

part thirteen

part fourteen

Epilogue

TAGLIST: if you would like to be added to the gold dust woman taglist, please feel free to send me an ask, pm me, or respond on this or one of the above chapters. if i do not respond, it is because the replies on my posts will only allow me to reply with my main account. i promise i will see it, and if i happen to miss you, don’t be scared to ask again!

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: I am incredibly grateful for all of the support, likes, reblogs and kind comments I receive from all of you. I would be nothing without your support, and I do take the time to read and appreciate every reply and message, even if I don’t respond. Thank you so much for all you do, and I sincerely hope that you enjoy this story as much as I do 🫶🏻

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thenightfolknetwork · 3 months ago

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so, i've got this friend - let's call her "casey". and she's a really sweet person, i love her to bits. the thing is, casey really wants to be a witch. and not just like, doing some spells for herself and her friends, kind of thing. she wants to be a professional witch. she's obsessed with this dream of hers, pouring so much time and energy into making social media posts about her spellwork and trying to mimic her favorite witchstagram influencers.

but the problem is… she kinda sucks??? none of her spells work and sometimes they can really backfire. she made me a housewarming charm for my new apartment, and within a day of putting it up, my neighbors were banging on my door accusing me of cursing the whole building! but instead of working on her craft, she's totally focused on building this social media persona. she honestly isn't getting the kind of traction she was hoping for - probably because, you know… she sucks!! is there any way i can convince her to at least take a bit more time in training before she tries to go pro?

I'm afraid there isn't much you can do here, dear reader. I understand your concerns – it's no easy thing to see a person you love embark on a path you consider foolish. But it Casey is her own person, and needs to be allowed to forge her own path.

As her friend, you need to decide how much you can be there for Casey in this endeavour. I certainly don't think you should lie to her – neither of you will be served by you pretending you think this career change is a wise decision. But you can find other things to praise – her commitment, her bravery and her enthusiasm, if nothing else.

Besides which, I'm not sure I actually see anything in her “business plan” (a term I use extremely loosely here) that actually involves any magical ability. You say she's pouring her energy into social media posts and developing her Instagram profile. None of that constitutes becoming a professional witch in any actual spell-crafting capacity.

If she does pivot to trying to make money from her actual craft, she may well run into some rather obvious obstacles – namely that her spells do more harm than good. I see no reason to discourage her in this. After all, perhaps a slew of negative reviews and refund demands will spur her into developing her craft a little more (hopefully under the guidance of a more experienced practitioner, and not a fellow 'witchstagram' enthusiast).

Confronting her about her lack of skill will only upset her. Concentrate instead on being her friend and supporting her as and how you can without undermining your own integrity. It simply isn't your place to try and guide Casey on this matter. She will do as she wishes, and needs to make her own choices – and her own mistakes.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

#answered #monstrous agonies #the nightfolk network #advice #self-care #urban fantasy #fantasy #writblr #writers on tumblr #short fiction #witchcraft #witchblr

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wolffwish · 2 years ago

Text

More Than Just A Short Time

Warnings: Distressed reader, miscarriage, mentions of anxiety, panic attack, soft!Toto x reader,

A/N: Personal experience used here, so please be understanding. 2022 was the worst year of my life, losing a baby and my fiancé within 3 months of eachother. I’ve been wanting to write something for months, to try and help me cope with my emotions. This hasn’t been spell checked, I literally have finished it and pressed post. So please bear with me if there’s any mistakes or it’s not that great, or sonically cohesive. It’s literally a coping mechanism. I’ve also tried to incorporate Taylor Swift’s “Bigger Than The Whole Sky” as that song has bought me a lot of comfort. Thank you so much for reading and I hope soft Toto brings you comfort if you need it ♥️ my inbox is open to anyone if you need to talk about anything.

It’s been a long 5 days without Toto, and your physical health was declining by the hour. Your period was the heaviest it had ever been, but you didn’t want to tell Toto, because everyone has periods and usually, they’re nothing to worry about.

Toto knew you were struggling physically, and had been the ever-supporting husband that you could’ve dreamed of. Virtually working instead of heading into the office, skipping races and rescheduling meetings or holding them online— to the point where he’d be sitting on the bed with his laptop perched on his lap on Zoom with people at Brackley, with you sleeping next to him and him not taking his hand off of your head once, constantly stroking it to ease your pain.

He was away in Bahrain for first race of the season and it was the longest amount of time he’d been for a few months. You hadn’t been feeling that great in the lead up to him leaving, a bit run down and not your usual self, extremely tired and incredibly nauseous. You just assumed it was your birth control playing up again.

It was Sunday. Race day. You were feeling rough, and after yesterday’s ordeal in the ER followed by a strict instruction for bed rest and preferably someone with you, all you wanted to do was curl up on the couch, watch the race and wait for your man to come home.

You hadn’t been contacting him much over the past 4 days, mainly just good morning and good night texts, as you knew he was going to be flat out busy with media, meetings and all the other stuff that goes with the job he’d worked so hard for.

11am. You heard your phone ping, with his specific text tone and notification lighting up your screen.

💬 1 New Message: Toto🐺♥️ — Liebling, I have a free half hour. Can you talk? We need to talk.

“We need to talk”? You read it three times, making sure you were reading it right. Need? Panic sets in. Usually, when anybody receives a message of “We need to talk.”, ending abruptly with a full stop, that’s never a good sign, right? Right.

Before you could even start typing, he was ringing. Accidentally, you pressed the green answer button, steadily putting the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” - your voice broke as you awaited his response.

🐺 “Schatzi? Is that you?”

“What do you mean, is it me? You rang my mobile?”

🐺 “Oh. Thank god. I had a missed call from the hospital, they left a message asking me how you were after yesterday. I didn’t— what happened yesterday, I didn’t know you wen—“

“Oh my god, are you kidding?! They rang you?”

Anger that started in your stomach was slowly making its way up your body, flushing your red cheeks and making your hands grip the phone tighter. You were checked into the ER yesterday after having what you thought was a 3 day long, heavy and extremely painful period. You had to call the ambulance because you were bleeding so heavily you couldn’t control anything, and started to feel dizzy and weak. With nobody around, and Toto working, you had nobody to call.

🐺 “Come on baby, talk to me. Why did you visit the ER?”

You paused. You didn’t know what to say to him, but neither did you want to lie. You knew as soon as the ER nurse asked if you’d had any morning sickness or previous experiences of dark red heavy periods that this wasn’t just a period. You were having a miscarriage, not even knowing you were pregnant.

🐺 “Liebling? Whatever it is, you can tell me. It doesn’t matter that I’m here, ok? You are my priority, just let me in.”

“I can’t tell you over the phone, Toto. I’m sorry. Just concentrate on the race, and I’ll see you later. I love y—“

🐺 “No Schatzi, baby please, I can’t concentrate unless you tell me what’s going on.”

You knew that he wasn’t going to give in. Tears started filling your eyes and the pit of your stomach started knotting. Emotions got the better of you, your breathing started to get shorter and faster, even though you were trying to disguise every bit of it, so you didn’t make him panic even more. But you just couldn’t do it. You fell apart. You needed him, now more than ever.

“I’m sorry, Toto. I didn’t know. You know I’m on birth control, it was just a heavy period, and then the nurses started asking all these questions about morning sickness and the colour of it and they rigged me up to the machine and started doing all these scans and I was really scared and I didn’t know what to do and then they kept apologising to me and I was in such a state I didn’t know what they were talking about until they— until they said it wasn’t a heavy period, and I’d lost—“

That was it. Uncontrollable tears streamed from your eyes as you relived the worst day of your life all over again, for the millionth time. Hysteria creeping in and your adrenaline winning, you began to shake. You’d been reliving every second of it since you got home, and it took a lot of persuasion for you to the nurses to let you home on your own. But they all knew your situation, they all knew Toto and who he was, so they made an exception. You didn’t think they’d call him.

🐺 “Oh my go—, baby, I’m so sorry. Shit. I should’ve been there, I knew you weren’t right when I left, but I had no idea it could be this—“

“Don’t apologise Toto please, it’s not your fault, I just, I can’t wait to see you later. Please try and just do the race and I’ll be here when you get home.”

🐺 “I don’t care about the race Schatz, baby. I’m coming home now. I’m walking to Rosa right now, she’ll get me on the next flight darling. Hold tight for me, ok?”

You didn’t want to ruin his day like this, especially the first race, but you were done fighting with yourself.

“Ok.” - through tears streaming and sniffles of your nose to try and control your breathing, a simple ‘ok’ was the last thing you said to Toto before dropping the phone on the bed. You’d almost been in denial about the whole thing, and saying it all out loud made it more real. You pulled your legs to your chest, your body still screaming in pain from miscarrying, back pains so intense you feel like your spine is on fire and a headache strong enough to make you squint at any view of light.

You could hear the television in the background, the race build up had started and you began watching it hoping it would distract you from everything that was happening in your head at that very moment.

The grid walk started, and Martin Brundle was desperately searching around for Toto to ask him where he thinks the two Mercs’ we’re going to finish today’s race. He eventually came across Shov, who was ready for an interview.

MB: “I was hoping to talk to your boss, any idea where I can find him?”

AS: “He’s had to rush off, personal matter, so won’t be able to watch the race today, but I can answer any questions you may have - just not with as much Austrian flare as he does!” he tried to laugh and distract from the situation- but you knew social media was about to blow up.

A few hours passed, and the sheer emotional state you were in made you fall asleep at some point during the race. You woke up as the podium ceremony started, that damn Dutch national anthem again. You flicked over the channels and started watching some random nature show about birds. Anything but that damn podium.

Anxiously waiting for Toto to arrive, you kept drifting off to sleep, losing track of the time, until you heard a key in the door and footsteps running up the stairs.

“Schatzi, where are you baby? I’m ho—“

The bedroom door swung open and there he was, still dressed in his white button down shirt and black trousers, so damn handsome. Your man was home.

“Toto, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tears streaming, you sat up on the bed, trying to adjust your body to a position you weren’t in pain.

“Baby, it’s okay. Come here, little one.” Toto softly sat down in front of you, cupping your face in both hands and softly brushing the tears on your cheeks away with the pad of his thumbs. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” He brought his lips up to your forehead, pressing the most gentle kiss just above your left eyebrow, muffling the words “Let go baby, I’m here now. Just let it all out.”

The reassuring words from Toto meant every single emotion waved over you like a tsunami, and you fell apart in his arms. The tears came streaming down your face as you leant forward into him. You adjusted your body so you were sitting side aways on his lap, legs resting on the bed and head resting in his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you like he was protecting the world, his gentle touches making you feel safer than you’d ever felt.

“Let’s get you into bed properly, baby, get you more comfortable.” Without hesitation, Toto stood up with you in his arms as he gently walked around the bed, making sure not to walk into any furniture or make any sudden movements. He slowly leant down, to lay you on his side of the bed. He grabbed a blanket, took his shirt and trousers off, walked round to the other side of the bed and got in with you.

“Are you comfortable? Do you need to move?” He asked as you started rolling over as he got into the bed beside you.

“I can’t get comfy, it’s so frustrating, everything hurts and I can’t move without feeling like I’m making a mess everywhere, it’s horrible.”

“Hey hey baby, it’s okay, don’t cry. It doesn’t matter if there’s mess, we can clean it up, okay? Come here, lay here.” He perched himself up on the headboard, his bare chest gleaming in the night light that was the only light on in the room. The smell of him just felt like home. Lightly tapping his torso, he helped you lay your head on his chest, right on his heart. You moved your arm over his toned tummy, slightly tapping your fingers over the grooves of his muscles.

“There we go baby, you just lay there and relax now. It’s okay, I’ve got you my girl.”

A few minutes of silence passed as Toto gently run his fingers through your hair, up and down your back and over your shoulder.

“Toto?”

“Yes, baby? What is it?”

“We’re never gonna meet her.”

You didn’t know if it was a girl or a boy, but your initial thought was it was a girl. You don’t know why. It’d been playing on your mind all day whenever you caught yourself thinking about what would’ve been, what could’ve been and what should’ve been.

A deep breath came from the pits of his stomach as he saw your heart break in front of him.

“I know darling, I know. But look…” he pointed out towards the night sky, a sky full of stars. A sky so beautiful, that you would’ve thought you’d made it up.

“She’s up there. She knows you’re looking at her. Hey, she’s that really bright one, look” he points to a specific star, that is, quite literally, the brightest one in the sky. “She’s bigger than the whole sky, isn’t she?” he looks down at you, as you’d cocked your head to see the star he was talking about. Making eye contact, one side of his mouth turned into a slight smile, as he leant down to kiss you on the lips. “I love you, little one.”

You kissed him back, finally feeling like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders now he was home.

“I love you too, Papi.”

He smiled down at you again, bringing his hand up to the side of your face and gently guiding your head to lay on his chest. You heard him snuffle, and felt a teardrop on hairline where your hair meets your forehead.

“Toto?” You looked up at him, tears in his eyes as he looked out of the window.

He responded immediately. “It’s okay, baby. I’m okay, I’m just so sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry for not telling you when it happened. I just didn’t want to pull you away from work and—“

“Baby listen to me. You are my world, ok? Nothing is more important than you. I would sail the seven oceans to be with you in a heartbeat. Don’t ever think anything is more important than you, Schatz. I love you so much it hurts.”

He looked down at you again, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair. “You can rest now, baby. Daddy’s got you.”

You closed your eyes and felt your entire body relax into the indentation of his body, and sunk into the bed with him. The soft strokes of his hands over your arms, hair and back brought you more comfort than you’d ever felt before, and the sound of his slow controlled breathing meant your breathing started syncing with his. You both drifted off to sleep, holding each other close. His arms wrapped around you, you laying on his chest.

This was home. He was home. He is your home.

——

#toto wolff #f1 x reader #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fic #daddy wolff #f1 #soft toto for once #soft toto wolff #toto wolff fluff

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queerponcho · 10 months ago

Text

Transfixed | part 4

previous part | part 5

collage made by me with pictured from pinterest

moonknight!system x female!reader

a/n: I can't even begin to tell yall how cool i feel to have people reading what i write lmao. last week was super busy- i worked six days straight but i am so happy to finally post another chapter!! hope you like/ comment/ reblog if you enjoy(≧∇≦)ﾉ

Warnings: no use of Y/N, fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, Jake being a menace, Marc simping HARD, Steven being a cutie as always, spanish (without translations), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!

Summary: finally ya'll get to read about the DATE!! Steven can barily hold it together and Marc stands on the side lines...at least that was the plan, but we all know that plans are made to be ignored. So Steven will unfortunately be interrupted by his brothers...more than once

4,800 words

‘He's here’ you mutter to yourself, running to the door making sure it's him and pushing the button to the intercom. ‘Yes, hello?’

The sweet voice rips him from his worry that he might’ve rang the wrong door despite checking the name and address for the millionth time. ‘..hello?’ you repeat unsurely into the intercom. ‘YES- uh i- yes hello, it’s Steven?’ he almost slaps himself mentally at his awkwardness but doesn't, when he hears your lively giggle easing him out of self-doubt. You buzz him in and he quickly pushes the door open. Making his way into the older looking building and going in the elevator. You quickly check your reflection in the hall mirror and apply the last layer of your favourite lipgloss when you hear the elevator doors creak open at the end of the hall. ‘You can do this- just be yourself!’ your reflection cringes at the self-pep-talk and you turn away from the mirror finally opening the door. You peek your head out the door and see Steven cautiously walking down the hall looking at all the nametags on the Apartments, before finally spotting you waiting at your entrance. He hurries towards you, you smile warmly at him and he returns the gesture with a flushed boyish grin. You stand in front of each other and you decide to break the silence ‘are these for me?’ you point to the flowers in his right hand. They were beautiful white flowers with red edges. ‘Yes, I- they’re carnations. I hope you like them’ he makes swift eye contact and rests his eyes back on the flowers, almost making you melt at his shy smile. ‘I love them, thank you Steven. Come in! I’ll quickly put them in a Vase before we leave.’ you step back into your apartment and wait for him to come in to close the door behind him.

He steps in and is immediately enveloped in your sweet scent. The Lighting is a warm yellow-y tone, the apartment is definitely not modern and looked rather old, but your personal furniture and decor gave it a youthful and warm ambience. All of it was very you. He loved it. ‘Did you have a hard time finding the apartment? I remember how I used to get lost easily in the first few weeks after I'd moved here.’ you ask him while picking out a vase from the cupboard. ‘Oh no, it was fairly easy to find- I think I've actually passed through here a few times before.’ he says pensively, still standing by the door not really knowing where to move. ‘I really like your home’ Steven says while looking around your open-plan apartment. He could even catch a glance of your bedroom from here, he wondered what it looked like in there…if he would ever get to see it personally…before he can fall down that rabbit hole he hears you answer. ‘Oh, um- thanks’ he catches you smiling and notices how you bite the inside of your bottom lip. He tries to not get caught up in the way you look while flustered like this- it was definitely doing something to him…he just wasn't sure what exactly, or rather he didn’t want to think about it too hard right now. Maybe later when he was back home…’So! Is the restaurant within walking distance or do we have to take the bus? Cuz if we have to take the bus I'll bring my bus-card.’ Steven blankly stares at you with a shocked expression ‘oh bugger, i totally forgot to tell you’ he mutters and avoids eye-contact but continues ‘all the restaurants are closed tonight-’ ‘oh-’ he sees your face fall but continues ‘yeah, I-i noticed a few hours ago and totally forgot to mention it to you since I was so busy buying and preparing the dinner, I am so sorry love- I- i understand if you don’t feel comfortable with going to my place-’ Stevens rambling is interrupted by your hands grasping his left hand, which had been resting on the countertop. Steven just stares at his hand enveloped in yours ‘you cooked for me?’ He snaps his head up and sees your soft smile and warm eyes. He can almost feel his knees give out at the sight in front of him, just now noticing what you're wearing and how beautiful you look in that too-big sweater. ‘Well…yes. Admittedly it might not be amazing but i-’ ‘I’m sure it's great steven, I can't wait to try it.’ you let go of his hand and he watches you grab your long coat and bag. You both head out the door and make your way out the building, on the way down he notices how his hand had somehow ended up back in yours, he feels his brain going fuzzy at the feeling of your hand enveloping his.

Your POV

Okay well yes, going to a guys place on the first date was something you wouldn't do on a usual date. But this isn't a usual date, is it? This is Steven, and well; Marc and Jake…can't really compare this to a regular dinner with some stranger. In the elevator you catch him looking at you from the corner of your eye. He notices you looking and turns a pretty shade of red, immediately moving his glance back towards the door. You have to bite back a giggle and make a move to take his hand back in yours. as soon as your fingers touch you feel your fingers tingle again. Just like when you were in the kitchen you get this tingling sensation and feel his heartbeat in your palm. As if you were holding his heart in your hand. As cheesy as it sounds, it's almost like you’ve felt this in another lifetime or like this has happened before…

You opt to walk to his place and stroll along the busy London street and talk about casual things like his work in the museum. Apparently he just got a job as a tour-guide in the museum of history and did tours of the different exhibits. His favourite being the Egyptian one. He seems fascinated by your interest in Egyptology and immediately basks in your attention, explaining tons of things to you and almost exploding with energy anytime you ask a question. Answering with “that's such an interesting question-“ or “many historians have speculated and cant seem to agree but I think-“. You can’t help but be almost entranced by his huge urge to teach you about something he clearly loves so much. You have hyper-fixations of your own so you feel very lucky that he's comfortable enough to indulge in his, so freely.

He slows you both down and steers you towards an old looking apartment building in an okay part of town. It's very central but has the older charm just like your place. you let go of his hand and watch him fumble with his keys. He seems distracted and you hear him mumbling something. You assume he’s talking to Marc and don't feel like it’s your place to butt into their quick exchange. You head in and he closes the door behind you walking you toward the elevator. ‘My favourite god? Oh well that's a hard one-’ ‘Steven, you haven't asked her shit about her interests, shut up for a minute and let her talk!’ ‘bollocks, you’re right- so um, ‘nough about me…you like drawing, eh?’

flustered at the sudden switch of topic you answer quickly ‘yes- I-I love drawing, have loved to draw all my life basically’ ‘oh so you’re a proper artist then! I’d love to see some of your work’ Steven smiles eyes shining with interest ‘well- you’ve seen some before…remember?’ you say and giggle when you notice Stevens face change from fascinated and sweet to shock and somehow…blushing fear? His mouth agape, while staring into your eyes ‘how could I forget’ standing very close once again, you'd moved really close during the too-long elevator ride. Standing toe to toe, staring longingly into eachothers eyes. Marc is pretty sure Steven has never kept eye-contact for this long consecutively.

But the spell breaks when the old elevator doors creak open and a dim ‘ding’ is emitted from the lift speaker. Steven clears his throat, the first to break the tension and turns away from you walking ahead to his apartment. You manage to unstick your feet from the floor and follow him.

You walk towards a deep navy blue door with the number 502 on it in gold metal letters. Even just the door looks homey and perfectly favours Stevens characteristics. The dark blue representing his shy nature but abundance in knowledge and love to give, the latter you haven't experienced first hand but you’ve felt it each time you touched him and held his hands.

The gold letters shining like his intense passionate nature, the one he exhibited when he told you all about egypt and the ennead. You may have known a lot of what he told you already, but it was so much nicer to hear it in his voice than it was to read it in those dusty forgotten books in the library.

‘Here we are, welcome to my humble abode’ Steven chuckles and opens the door for you. You return his remark with a roll of your eyes accompanied by a stifled giggle and walk in. If the door of the apartment already told you so much about him, his flat was as if you’d held up a mirror in front of his mind.

It looked exactly like what you’d expect- except for the tidiness…with the little information you’ve gathered on Steven, he certainly didn't seem like a very organised guy. Even just the way he holds a conversation can be all over the place (which admittedly you kinda love), you just assumed his place would reflect that. You leave that thought and look over to Steven, only to realise he’d finished taking the dish out of the oven and had been watching you. He looks back down at the dish quickly,

‘I- well we made a lasagna, well two actually- one vegan and one with meat. Realised I never asked ya which you prefer so we made both’ he says while taking out the meat lasagna out of the oven and placing it on the wooden counter. You can't believe he made two lasagnas instead of just calling and asking. He doesnt stop being adorable and that makes you crave his closeness even more. Once again your mind is reeling with the question you keep asking yourself…”why do i feel so connected to him…” Jake you understand…then again, even he had you in a trance much too quickly. You aren't one to fall in love or even find many non-ficitonal people attractive and captivating. Recognising their beauty, yes. You are an artist so of course you can appreciate someone's beauty, but getting up to follow someone through the library, that was definitely a one-time thing you did only with Jake. He- well they had like a pulling energy around them that felt like it was tugging you closer to them.

You realise that you might’ve been staring at Steven for a bit too long since he started shifting and fidgeting uncomfortably. His face, a deep shade of red. ‘I-is there something wrong?- d’do you not like lasagna? I-I could ask Marc to whip up something el-’ Steven is already cursing himself out mentally for not asking you what you like to eat when he feels your hand around his arm. You tug him closer and pull him into a hug, squeezing him close as if he were to disappear in the next few seconds. You thread your fingers into his curls and tug him even closer. Hearing his breath hitch you feel him melt into your touch and nuzzle his nose into the crook of your neck, calming down by your touch once again. You feel his heartbeat but this time it resonates through your entire body, your hearts beating in unison.

He takes a deep breath and you blush at his content sighing. You hear him mumble something into your shoulder. ‘Hmm?’ ‘So the lasagna is okay then?’ you laugh and keep petting his head softly ‘I love lasagna’ you both pull back and you look into his eyes teasingly ‘and I'd love to try both of em’ you part from your hug completely and shoot him a wink. He blushes and he continues setting everything up while you take a stroll through his open-plan flat.

You hear clanking in the kitchen and low mumbling, you’re sure Marc and Steven are discussing the previous moment. You give them their space and blend out the noise while looking through the impressive book collection. You assume it’s Stevens with all the egyptology and history titles, you find a few Greek mythology books that you’ve also read yourself before, you love to take a dive into that world regularly and can’t wait to discuss it with Steven. Just at the thought of him, you can feel his heartbeat against your ribcage again, it feels so calming and almost entrancing.

You continue walking along the bookshelf, when you walk past a large fish-tank. It was pretty much situated in the middle of the open flat. In it were two goldfish swimming calmly, merely floating peacefully in the water. In the reflection of the glass you could see Steven zooming from one side to the other gathering the last few things to complete the dinner “presentation”. A fond smile graces your lips when you notice the postcards and quotes around the tank. Some were handwritten post-it notes with french phrases written on them. You move on and keep wandering through the apartment.

You are brought back from your thoughts, when you step into…sand? You notice a ring of sand around Stevens bed, this reminds you once again of the fact that no one knows of your location or these boys. You are in the midst of contemplating a text to your friends when you hear Steven shout- ‘Love, dinner is ready!’ You quickly put your phone back into your bag. You shuffle towards the living room table and try not to fold over at the domestic image before you. Steven is wearing a cute white apron with red strawberries printed on it. In one hand he is holding a bottle of wine, you bite back a smile when you notice he is trying to open the bottle and is visibly struggling.

It’s probably because he forgot to take off the right oven-mitt and the corkscrew keeps slipping out between the fabric. You make your way over to him and envelope his mitt-covered hand with yours slipping the corkscrew out of his limp hand easily. After opening the bottle you sniff at it, checking for the scent and humming at the familiar smell of red wine. ‘Next time, maybe try it without the oven-mitts’ you say with a teasing lilt in your voice and look up at him.

You’d taken off your shoes when you had entered the flat, leaving you in only your wool socks. You have to slightly look up at him only to see him…gazing. He looks at you with a content and loving expression, his eyes shiny and his cheeks flushed. He is breathing steadily and you can feel the warmth radiating off of him and you want to reach out again and smother him in affection that is definitely too early to be giving at this point of your relationship.

You’d moved between him and the table, leaving you wedged in between. You feel yourself getting lost in his eyes, the never ending deep essence in them seemingly carrying so much weight. The eyes, surrounded by tired and reddened skin, made him look that much more vulnerable, making your heart flutter even further for him. You break your eye-contact when you look down at the bottle, and move to hold it up to Steven. ‘Will you do the honours?’ you say with a cheeky smile. ‘Oh, it would be my absolute pleasure darling.’ he says while taking the bottle out of your hand, lingering more than necessary, making the tingle in your fingertips return once again. You keep watching him as he fills up both of your glasses.

‘Alright, I think everything is ready. Take a seat.’ Steven takes off the apron, gestures at the chair in front of him and pulls it out for you, motioning at you to take a seat. You hate how much the gentleman spiel is working on you, but there is a reason why it was established so long ago isn’t there. People doing things specifically to make your life easier, to protect and to impress you has got to be one of the hottest things anyone could ever do. You give in and take a seat on the comfy wooden chair and place the napkin on your lap, watching Steven as he makes his way around the table to take a seat himself. It's a small round table, it has a white table-cloth on it and two candles on a little plate placed at the centre of it. You even hear faint music playing in the back, they had clearly put effort into impressing you and it made your heart almost beat out of your chest.

‘Thank you both so much for cooking, I’m so excited to try this.’ you offer them a thankful smile and Steven returns it with a quick blush and nervous gaze. You look down at your portion of lasagna, Steven had served you half a piece of each dish so you could try them both simultaneously. You pick up your fork and dig in and it's- delicious ‘mhh this is so good omg’ you all but moan at the flavours collecting and mingling in your mouth. You look up when you don't hear any response or even soft acknowledgement toward your statement. You see Steven sitting there in front of his barely eaten vegan lasagna, staring nervously onto the plate. ‘Steven?’

Before Marc can stop it, he is teleported into fronting. It's been a long time since he was so quickly shoved into control and can’t help but feel bad for Steven for being stuck in the back in such an anticipated moment. Before he can even try and apologise to him he makes note of his surroundings realising quickly what the trigger must’ve been. Steven had taken but one bite of the vegan lasagna and had probably remembered the taste of the lasagna their dad made Marc for his birthday…the one before…before Marc can think any further about his troubling childhood memories, he hears you. ‘Steven?’ you say cautiously. shit - this is so awkward, he has to save himself and he tries to do it in the only way that comes to mind; pretending to be Steven. ‘I-i am olroight luv-oll good’ he puts on an uncomfortable grin and is admittedly kind of impressed with himself. He had previously pretended to be Steven when he used to work in the gift-shop. No-one used to talk to him there though so he just had to continue working to save face. He continues eating and pretends to take a sip of wine, trying to behave and move like Steven does.

You’re a bit confused… Just moments before, Steven seemed really happy and comfortable, now he kinda looked all stiff and was acting really strange. You wonder if they might’ve switched again because he seemed so abruptly different, or maybe one of the other guys had said something to make him nervous. Trying to take his mind off it, you distract him with friendly and curious conversation. ‘So Steven, what made you choose the lasagna as the perfect dish for tonight?’ you ask genuinely curious, already almost finished with your plate. ‘It’s an old famly recepey- o-our dad um I mean father used to make it..’ too focused on the switch of emotion in his eyes, you forget to keep looking for anything that might lead to an explanation to his strange behaviour. He looked kind of sentimental and you feel him wanting to hold things back, before you can tell him that he doesn’t have to tell you anything he’s uncomfortable with, he continues. ‘It’s one of the best memories I have with him, making this lasagna for my birthday…back when everything felt so…right…’ you sit there awestruck by the raw emotion on his face. The warm candle-light reflecting in his tear-welled eyes and casting beautiful shadows on his face, you’re mesmerised. He huffs out a deep breath and clears his throat, lifting his head back up to meet your gaze, smiling at you softly. ‘It’s basically the only thing I know how to make properly’. You don’t notice his accent changing from a bad british, to a chicagen one and instead compliment him on the great job he did. ‘Well, it’s very delicious.’ you say contentedly and faintly see his face turn a soft pink at your praise.

‘Oi! So you’re allowed to tell her all about our business but I'm not? That’s very rich of you Marc, you...you hypocrite!’ Steven exclaims into Marc's consciousness, entirely pissed at the fact that Marc basically stole his date from him. ‘Shut up, Steven-’ Marc says through gritted teeth, trying to hide his slip up with a badly timed fake cough. Despite Marc's effort, you hear him, finally putting all the pieces together and notice that you might be facing Marc right now and not Steven. You feel a sense of excitement at meeting this new alter and can’t wait to find out more about him. It did bug you a little that he was trying to pretend to be Steven instead of just telling you, but still, you understood his apprehension since this wasn’t a regular situation for either of you. You hear Marc clear his throat and bring your attention back to him. ‘I’m so glad you loike it dahrlin we really did ouah behst’ now that you had connected the dots to this man being Marc, you had a really hard time trying to ignore the terrible british accent. You hold your breath slightly, keeping back a bubble of laughter and continue eating after smiling at him politely. ‘Marc you’re making me sound like a complete knobhead. I’m an academic for christs-sake, you could at least pretend to have some semblance of respect for me.’ Steven is a petty man, entirely unhappy with his situation, he finds it in his right to make Marc's life a bit harder right now. Another cough is heard from Marc when you hear him mutter something into his napkin. ‘Are you okay? Would you like some water?’

‘hmm?? No no alls good, sweets’ he quickly disputes. Now, that you can’t ignore. Despite your biggest efforts you burst into laughter, your stomach hurting from it. You feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes and see Marc gradually joining you, surely laughing just as hard as you, pressing his palms into his eye-sockets. ‘Sweets??? Really?? Steven has never called me sweets- ever’ you trail off into another fit of laughter. Marc calms down and catches his breath.

‘Dammit- I really thought i’ve heard him say that one before’ you’re laughter dying down, you look at each other, the smiles still glued to your faces and they don’t seem to diminish even after a few minutes. ‘So…what gave me away?’ he asks curiously. ‘You have by far the worst english accent i have ever heard.’ ‘what! That was my best performance by far!’ He puts up an offended act, making you giggle and you try your best to look serious. ‘I'm so sorry to telly you, but you were terrible’ you can't keep a straight face and once again the laughter returns into the room and you wipe your eyes. He extends his hand across the table and you reach out and shake it.

‘I’m Marc’ He says, looking relieved to be able to speak in his own voice and accent once more. You introduce yourself to him and eventually, you both continue eating the lasagna and move into casual conversation. Marc tells you about how he reminded Steven of the fact that every restaurant was closed and how turbulent their day had been. How he cleaned up the apartment and tried to organise Stevens books only to give up after 2 hours and just shoving them under the bed. Cooking for you and making sure that they looked presentable, forcing Steven to use a hair-product and to put on a proper, nice shirt. At the mention of his shirt, you trail your eyes over him. Noticing how comfortable he looked. He had folded his sleeves up to his elbow, exposing his forearms. He looked so good like this, you felt your mouth watering at the sight of him. You’d stopped listening and at some point he had stopped talking, looking at you smugly and analysing your reaction towards him. He slightly moved his hand, clenching and unclenching it. He sees you biting the inside of your lip and hears Steven in his head ‘Gods she is so beautiful like this’ ‘mmhm, she is…’

the sound of Marc's gravelly voice rips you out of your daydreams, feeling your ears heating up violently. ‘You havin’ fun there, sweetheart?’ Marc says while raising his left eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest, making them look even thicker. ‘I-oh heh…sorry’ you scratch an invisible itch on the side of your neck, and look away from him, averting your gaze from his playful smirk. You felt his gaze staying on you and can’t keep yourself from turning your head back towards him and feeling your entire body buzzing with electricity. Marc was much more intense than Steven, looked intimidating, in the best way.

He looked like he could protect anyone from anything, like he’d do anything for those he loved. His gaze, steady and confident, sure of himself but also guarded, like he wasn’t gonna show you everything right away. He wasn’t Steven afterall, who was the exception, the only man to expose himself completely to everyone without even trying to hide his genuine feelings and intentions. They were so different, all of them so unique and so unlike the other. You feel warmth spread through your body like a warm current passing from your head to your toes. ‘Nono, don’t apologise’ he leans on the table and reaches for your other hand resting on the table, holding it gingerly in his, making circles with his thumb over your hand.

You watch the movement and look at his hand caressing yours, revelling in the returning fuzzy feeling in your mind and the tingles emitting from his touch. You feel his heartbeat again, slow and steady, like a confident but soft stomp. You feel his calloused thumb making soothing circles and close your eyes at the different sensations, humming contentedly. ‘Hmm’ you humm with the familiar song playing in the back, it was a track from Natalia Lafourcade ‘Caminar bonito, my favourite-’ before you can finish the thought, you hear the chair before you slide backwards over the floor. You look up and see Marc, standing next to you and he tugs you upwards to stand with you.

Now you’re both standing and he tugs you towards the open space in front of the huge archway that they had made into Stevens' bookcase. You’re standing flush against him, chests close together and he takes your left hand in his, intertwining your fingers and moves his other hand to your waist.

His thumb continues soothing you and you place your other hand on his shoulder. You start swaying to the beat of the song, easing into each other's movements. You rest your head on his shoulder and he moves his hand, which was resting on your waist, to the middle of your lower back. You move your intertwined hands closer to you, hugging them towards you and move your other hand from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, softly petting his grown out locks at the back of his neck. Gently swaying from side to side you continue humming to the record. Several minutes later you look up at him and see him already looking at you. Feeling and hearing your heart-beats synced up and the soft beat of the music was making your vision almost blurry. Both of you softly sway to the music, pattering your sock-covered feet on the hardwood floor. He untangles your fingers and holds your hand in his, you feel his hand on your lower back lead you to make a twirl. You both smile and you successfully make the twirl and end up that much closer to him. Your noses brushing and his, grazing your left cheek.

You let out a soft wavering breath and you look into his eyes. They were darker than before, you would recognise that look from any distance and you know that this wasn’t Marc nor was it Steven, you were certain of it.

He speaks up, only confirming your suspicion. ‘¿Me dejas besarte, hermosa?’

a/n: This one is alot longer lmao but i promised the date so here it issss. In the next part Jake ensures that you get home safely and drives you back in his pretty car. Get ready for a cliche rain-kiss and a mysterious cliffhanger ;)

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