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#apparently its 'if youre OUT here why do i miss you so much?' not 'if youre RIGHT here why do i miss you so much?'
semercury · 9 months
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Devastating. Song lyrics I was going to use for a fic title were actually misheard and the real ones don't fit as well.
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cockringhoratio · 1 year
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i am filtering the glass onion tag i am filtering the glass onion tag i am filtering the glass onion tag
#smashy the cache#‘glass onion fucks with your memory’ sorry but yall are just gullible#how did yall watch knives out and then go ‘yeah rian johnson will be an impartial narrator’#its a fucking WHODUNNIT you dingbats!!!!!!!!!#every mystery writer since MISS agatha christie has been doing their best to lie to the audience#it is on YOU to remember stuff the characters deem irrelevant lmfao sorry yall#the movie is actively trying to make you the hastings or the watson or the dumbass who goes for the low hanging fruit#thats part of the reason ive grown to hate it so much lmfao its not a mystery movie made for the love of the chase or anything#its a mystery movie for people who have been turning their brains off every time they sit down for the mcus latest sludge#if you try to engage with it authentically its just. terrible.#the first one had the roger ackroyd angle going for it but glass onion is just. mean.#its trying to recreate a very specific kind of twist without the finess to understand why it works#‘oh you were trying to solve The Andi Mystery well PSYCHE DUMBASS there’s actually another mystery we havent solved that#but we have wasted your time anyway heres a bts clipshow from that little farce bc random pov changes are good mystery writing apparently-#THANK GOD RIAN JOHNSON WRITES HIS OWN MYSTERIES INSTEAD OF HIRING SOMEONE WHOSE JOB IT IS TO WRITE MYSTERIES#anyway#anyway.#im done. im over it. i will scroll past the filterd posts. i will not unhide them. i will live in ignorance.
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jaysgirlx · 4 months
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living with choso might have just been the best mistake of your entire life. the intended plan was for you to finally get your own place but when you get there the place is in shambles. you got your deposit back when you threatened to get the police involved because the place looked nothing like its pictures.
choso had offered you his spare bedroom time and time again but you couldn't. choso was already such a good friend to you and you just didn't want to impose this on him. but of course, you're not even given a choice to ask him because the moment choso finds out how messed up your new apartment is he's already taken your stuff back to his place.
you're two months in and you realize choso and you had fallen into a pattern. a pattern that you hope won't everbreak. you wake up and choso's already made breakfast for the both of you. he says he's used to it from when he and his brothers used to live together, even though he only makes enough for two.
when you both arrive home from work, you either go out for food or order in and then of course you guys watch movies. "what do you mean you've never seen toy story?!"
"i didn't have much of a childhood, so i haven't seen a lot of movies" he mumbled quiety. for the rest of the night, the two of you had a toy story marathon with tons of snacks (provided by choso of course).
choso knew you loved to snack, so he learned to find your favorites in bulk. anytime you saw you snack on something when you hung out, he would memorize its name so he could buy more. he wanted to make his apartment as comfortable as he could for you. his place was meant to be yours.
sometimes the two of you would fall asleep on the couch together, all cuddled up together. however, it didn't start out like that, at first you would lean on choso's shoulder hoping he wouldn't mind. and eventually, he got annoyed with you just leaning on him and pulled you into his arms. you wanted to protest but you enjoyed it so much that you instead leaned into his body. whenever he'd feel you get comfortable in his arms or his lap he'd whisper "good girl" in your ear. coming from him those words drove you crazy and you wished you could hear them more.
on some nights, after you've both had a long day at work choso tends to carry you back to your room when you fall asleep. he even kisses your forehead and you've caught him doing it and you wish you had the guts to confront him on it so bad but you're happy here. so why risk it?
when choso works late you bring dinner to him and the two of you eat in his office. he always tells you, that you don't have to. that he can bring you dinner instead but when you warn him that you'll nice out he easily shuts up. you guys don't get to watch movies but you do get to talk.
"how's yuji?" you ask him after setting his food on his desk.
"enjoying college life apparently, nobara said they're going to a frat party tonight," he says while chucking.
"do you miss him?"
"why would i miss him when i have you?"
in your mind, there was no way he could've possibly meant that romantically. even after he changed the topic you were still thinking about it, thinking about what he meant and what could be going on in that head of his.
during the weekends, choso spends all his time with you. if you want to go shopping, he pays for everything, buys you lunch, and carries all your bags. he tells you it's in exchange for all the dinners you've bought him even though he's already paid you back for those. and when you get home he helps you try them all and all he can do is compliment you, like you're all his, "these jeans look so fucking good on you, can you only wear them in the apartment? just for me pretty girl?"
and you'd agree to his pleas cause, let's be real you only bought these jeans cause he keep eyeing you in them. and they way he cursed, you knew he wanted you because you felt the exact see way.
maybe living with choso a little longer wouldn't be such a bad idea.
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❥ a/n: a little drabble to make up for not posting the college au choso fic yet.
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tofixtheshadows · 14 days
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Id love to hear ur interpretation and analysis on falin! She’s one of my favorite characters and and I was wondering what ur thoughts on her are
Man, I struggle to think of anything I could say about Falin that others have not already said. But she's one of my favorite things about Dungeon Meshi too.
So much of the story revolves around Falin, and she's not even there. Tumblr loves to talk about haunting the narrative, but Falin might be one of the best examples of it ever put to page. She's dead. She's alive. She's dead. She's alive. She's alive but she's missing, she's alive but she isn't herself. She's dead but she might wake. She's dead but she's frozen in ice. She's alive but she's sleepwalking. They chase her ghost and they chase her body all through the story.
I think what Kui does with her is fascinating. Not just as character with a personality we can analyze, but as an object in a narrative- that's why I say she's one of my favorite things about the story, because I also mean it in a mechanical sense. As a writer, Kui's really good at misdirection- that is, setting you up to believe or expect something about a character or a plot, and then turning that on its head. It's most apparent with Kabru, but it works really well with Falin too.
Because the precious little sister is a very well known character archetype, right? So is the gentle healer. The heart of the party. The white mage girl. The damsel in distress. The martyr.
And this isn't a Laura Palmer situation, where we find out that beneath her wholesome surface there's something dark and troubled. No, Falin truly is a kind and gentle person. That isn't where the misdirection leads (and that, too, I think, is another misdirection- it's not "Plot twist, she isn't as nice as you thought!", which would almost be too easy).
The misdirection here is more about structure than about character (but also, yeah- a little about character).
What I mean is, with these archetypes firmly in mind, along with a whole other host of fantasy genre expectations, I think anyone who goes into Dungeon Meshi un-spoiled probably expects Falin's rescue to be an endgame event; at least on a subconscious level, where you're not really thinking about it but in the back of your head you're already stretching out the story to place Falin firmly in the distance. Fire breathing dragon at the bottom of the dungeon is perfect final boss material, right? Slay the dragon. Rescue the princess.
And Falin is the perfect prize in the traditional old school fantasy that the concept of the titular dungeon is a send-up to. Blonde (white), soft-spoken, sweet-natured, beloved by everyone. An angelic figure.
Maybe that's why Ryoko Kui gave her white wings.
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It is sort of jarring when chapter 23 rolls around and it's already time to fight the red dragon. And it takes a few chapters, but they succeed. And then Falin's impossible resurrection succeeds. But by then you guess that this is not going to be the story you expected it to be.
I want to point out that Falin spends a lot of time getting, well, babied, post-resurrection. Marcille washes her in the bath, despite Falin stating that she's capable of washing herself. Marcille schools her about her mana use despite Falin demonstrating that she is not hurting for mana, and brushes aside Falin's explanations. Both Marcille and Laios refuse to actually tell her what happened. Laios scruffs up her hair like she's a little kid and scolds her for something she can't remember doing. Marcille explicitly calls her a little kid when Falin tries to talk about how much she's grown.
Of course I'm not saying that Laios was wrong to act like a big brother, or that Marcille shouldn't be worried about taking care of her shell-shocked friend in the bath. But the framing of it clearly shows a Falin who is struggling to be heard.
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If you'd like to address the big gay elephant in the room while we're here, I want to state for the record that- whether you read her as gay or not -I think Marcille is completely oblivious during this. Because Falin is her little friend from school. Her best friend, yes, but also the young tallman student she, in her infinite elven wisdom, had to mentor and look after. Marcille has not yet accepted that Falin is an adult now, nor has she accepted that she, herself, is only barely past teenagerhood developmentally and is not nearly as mature as she believes. Of course she'd scrub Falin in the bath and fuss over her.
Falin, meanwhile, seems more than aware of her own adult body and the inappropriate way Marcille is treating it.
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The mana-sharing scene is, I think, Falin trying to get a little of her own back. How do you like it, Marcille?
And she tries again in bed.
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Maybe she's wondering if their relationship will change now that they're grown ups. If Marcille prefers her as a little girl, or at least as a woman who lets herself be guided like one; if Marcille will react badly if Falin keeps trying to assert herself. She also might be subtly trying to signal to Marcille that bed sharing, like bathing, carries a different weight to it when you do it as adults rather than as children.
With all this in mind, the decision to turn Falin from the precious prize they rescued into to the vicious dragon they have to slay, hits a lot harder.
Falin with a powerful, monstrous, destructive body. Falin, who couldn't even stand to cause people pain from using healing spells, slaughtering half a dozen people in brutal ways. And that's not her, she's being mind-controlled, but as an object in the story she has completely flipped. From damsel to threat.
And I love that she carries a little bit of that with her when she's resurrected again.
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Because she's no longer the girl who's going to let herself be stifled by her brother's and her best friend's co-dependency, no matter how much she loves them. She's different now: stronger, eyes open, forging her own path instead of following in their wake. Falin is still going to come back to them again, but this time it won't be because they chased her. It'll be because they let her go.
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skipper1331 · 2 months
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Secret (3) // Alexia Putellas
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| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | extra |
You woke up with a pounding in your head, the alcohol showing its aftereffects.
This wasn’t your bedroom… but why was it so familiar? When you slowly sat up, you tried to orientate yourself, only the few rays of sunlight illuminating the room. Angry grumbles filled the room as you did so - that‘s when it hit you.
Alexia,
the woman who grumbled furiously in her sleep when you left her touch. The person who hated it when she couldn’t have at least one arm around you while sleeping - "I need to protect you."
And indeed you were right, Ale was peacefully sleeping next to you, hidden under the duvet, soft snores escaping her mouth.
You looked down your body, you were naked and littered in hickeys - Alexia had done a great job in marking you, her possessiveness apparently taking over.
How did this happen…?
Pulling the duvet back up to cover your exposed body, your eyes fell once again on the sleeping beauty.
You knew you should leave before she woke up, but you couldn't. You were under her spell - you had to stay, at least for a few more minutes. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed.
Your broken heart was healing by just looking at her - you knew it was wrong but what your mind said and heart felt were different pair of shoes.
After a good 10 minutes you were finally able to tear yourself away as you gathered your clothes from the floor and headed out of the bedroom, putting on your clothes.
You couldn’t leave yet though, knowing that her head would hurt as much as yours did at the moment. so you walked into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, made a sandwich and got some painkillers against the headache - not for yourself but for Alexia.
With breakfast and pills in your hand, you walked back into her bedroom as quietly as possible. You put it down on her nightstand, intending to leave the room when the midfielder turned around, her hand reaching for you.
You froze.
"5 more minutes amor" she mumbled with her eyes closed, "por favor"
Not knowing what to do, you bend down, caressing her cheek and sweetly kissing her forehead "okay" like you always had done it.
"Te amo"
-
The first thing you did when you arrived at home was laying down on the couch, turning on the tv.
You had the day off, you were hungover - no need to do anything else but relax.
Around afternoon, your door bell rang.
You groaned, annoyed that you had to get up and pause your show in the middle of a thrilling scene.
As you opened the door, you were met with flowers - you couldn’t even the see the person who was holding them, that much flowers in their hands.
"Come in" you took some of the flowers - they looked amazing and smelled like spring - the person grateful for your help. The person followed you to the kitchen, still a bunch of flowers blocking their view.
Arrived in the kitchen, they put them down on the counter, revealing who she was but you knew that already.
Alexia,
was the only person who knew all of your favourite flowers and the only person who ever bought you some.
"hola" she greeted, nervously playing with her fingers.
She hadn’t been here in quite some time.
"Thank you for the breakfast this morning" she said.
Shortly after you had left, the midfielder had woken up, the smell of sandwiches filling the room and the feeling of something - someone - missing, waking her up.
She knew it was you straightaway, not only because of obvious reasons and parts of her memory but also the sandwich gave it away. You were never big fan of taking pills without food in your stomach and you had scowled at Alexia each time when she did so.
You nodded, continuing to put the flowers in vases - just as your body was littered in hickeys, your kitchen island was littered in varieties of flowers, many questions in your head
Why was she her? With flowers? So many of them too? How many were there anyway? Surely not just for a thank you.
"513" she said, almost as if she could read your mind. Somehow she could. She always knew what you thought or what you needed yet she was just too stupid to fulfill the one thing that you actually needed for this relationship to work.
"One for each day where I didn't tell anyone about us plus 20 for the 20€ I offered Alba" she explained, looking directly at you, "I’m sorry- very sorry for- well, for everything. I’m sorry for not taking you out on dates. I’m so sorry for letting you feel like my dirty little secret and for neglecting you outside of our apartments. You did not and do not deserve that because you‘re" subconsciously the corners of her lips turned upwards, her eyes turning into heart eyes, "you are truly amazing and wonderful and pretty and perfect, and the nicest, most caring and loving person I know and so much more" she carried on, "I did not deserve your kindness. I was scared because the feelings you let me feel are so overwhelming and I thought if we- told other people and then broke up, that I wouldn’t recover from that. The thought of the media and fans harassing us scared me too, more than I like to admit. It‘s no excuse, I just wanted to let you know. But the truth is it made no difference whether the people knew about us or not because I am not recovering from my heart break. And that‘s my own fault. You deserve better than me, I know that, but it kills me to imagine you with someone else. I want to do better. I need to do better and fight for us? because you- you are the love of my life. All of your romance books combined wouldn’t be enough to describe the things i feel for you."
You had stopped your movements awhile ago, shocked about everything she was telling you, "even just seeing you with my sister angered the Hulk out of me and we share the same blood" you let out a shaky laugh, the Hulk movie sadly one of the worst Marvel movies you had watched together.
Both of you were silent for a moment, "i‘m-"
"I-"
small giggles escaped the two of you as you started at the same time, "please continue" Ale said, smiling slightly.
"I don‘t know what to say, if I’m being honest" you admitted, overwhelmed by the situation.
"You don‘t have to. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry and how sorry I truly am. I was never ashamed of you, just scared. You can do whatever you want with that now"
you let her words sink in, hands gripping the kitchen counter while you‘re mind was trying to process everything.
"I‘m hoping that one day, you‘ll be able to forgive me" she inhaled sharply, "and eventually for another chance." it was mumbled, almost inaudible.
She looked so small and vulnerable while she avoided eye contact. Her elegant and strict presence wasn‘t existing anymore, she was just a girl with a broken heart.
"Ale-"
"You don’t- i know- i- I’ll be waiting for you" she muttered, getting up. She walked around the kitchen island, pressing a gentle yet longing and lingering kiss to your temple, tearfully pulling back. She just couldn't stop herself from giving you that little kiss.
Was it the last one forever?
"Lo siento muchísimo"
You let her walk out of the kitchen as she turned around one last time, standing at door the door frame, "i will fight for you unless you say something else"
You were too stunned and shocked to say anything. Everything that happened in the last few minutes played out over and over again in your mind while your eyes followed the midfielder walking out of view.
So many thoughts argued in your head - not one thought clear, nor one gaining the upper hand. Everything was blurry, so confusing. Why couldn't it be easy? Love was so easy for everyone else... why not for you?
You had a good heart - you had to do it.
As usual, your mind was completely against it, but your heart and brain never shared the same opinion. You wanted it - you wanted her. Your heart was practically screaming after her which was why you followed her.
You wouldn’t let her walk through that door, like she had let you.
"Alexia"
She stopped in her tracks, not turning around, expecting you to tell her that there was no point in fighting for you.
Just get over it, please
"Look at me" your voice sounded firm yet caring. She couldn’t predict what your next move was - she was completely clueless, but expected more hurt than just her broken heart which already was one of the worst pains, she had ever suffered from.
Nonetheless she obeyed.
As you looked at her, you realized that your heart wasn‘t able to fight against your brain.
If you forgave her now, it would just show how easy it was to manipulate you.
An apology, no matter how sincere it was and no matter how sweet it was that she had bought you flowers (which had probably cost a lot), wouldn’t heal your wounds. Your pride and pain was still too present. It wouldn't be that easy for her. She had some serious groveling to do.
This time her name wasn’t enough for her to get everything she wanted or had set her mind to.
"Don‘t forgot to drink enough water" you said, internally slapping yourself for that comment.
Your heart wanted to say 'Promise me to try hard enough', so she would know that there was still hope. Because there was. She was your love and your greatest love story. Every part in your body loved her and she loved you, but sometimes love wasn‘t (strong) enough. And even though she didn‘t deserve you at the moment, she deserved the chance to fight for you. She just had to figure that by herself.
You let her walk through that door, like she had let you, hoping that she would try hard enough.
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microsofttothemax · 20 days
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the resentment leo would have with splinter post-krang. i genuinely think they would take a bit for them to recover and be comfortable around each other
why do i think that? here’s some reasons. this is gonna be a HELLA long analysis so be prepared. sit down, grab some popcorn, and let’s dive in
in the movie, after raph was taken, leo goes on a whole rant about how he got the key, he gets the answers, and he will get raph back. yes this is irrational and brash, but not in leo’s eyes. in his eyes, this is a foolproof plan that will work
splinter attempts to intervene, and tell him like it is. “it’s not your plan, you need to work with your team.” however, it comes out as a sharp sting to leo’s previous attitude
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“My son, listen to your team. This is not about you.”
it’s meant to be sensible and wise, but to leo, it’s a jab at him. it’s a stab at his cockiness and self-centered attitude, and it reminds leo of why they’re even in this position in the first place. which he hates
most of all, it’s splinter saying it. it’s his father telling him that it’s not about him. because to leo, he’s always been last place to splinter’s affection, and it’s like splinter’s confirming it here
don’t believe me? here:
splinter talks to leo, and it seems that for a minute, he listens to his father’s words. that maybe he should really stop and listen. maybe he should stop and think of a plan, listen to his brothers’ input.
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but the second splinter says it’s not about him? leo shuts down. he pulls away from splinter, and refuses to listen to him. and while splinter may be right, it was something leo never wanted to hear
it’s obvious that he has a somewhat testy relationship with his father, and splinter is trying to make up for it by giving leadership advice. but to leo? this is the guy who made him leader to seemingly mess with him, never bothered to give him attention or praise on his accomplishments, and never truly knew leo beyond his “acting as the best to save face” charade
which brings me to another reason. no, i do not think splinter was ever abusive or purposely neglectful to leo, or any of the boys for that matter. but its clear theres a bit of a rift between him and leo. i think that he kind of resents leo a bit (without meaning to) because he sees himself in him. he sees the irrational movie star who never thought ahead, and made too many mistakes to count
an example would be when leo got punched by lou jitsu two times. none of his brothers got punched, why just him? and sure it could be a running gag, but i find it also to be intentional
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maybe deep down, splinter still resents leo for being so much like his irrational, unreasonable younger self. that every time he sees leo, he sees his stupid past self, and without meaning to, he at times hates leo because of it. and if he doesn’t hate him, he seems to resent him to some extent
splinter also has plainly stated that donnie was the funniest one to him, (s1ep 1, mystic mayhem) and outright laughed when leo asked if he was the favorite son (rottmnt wake-up alarms on youtube, timestamp 1:59) leo also staight-up said that he was splinter’s least favorite (s1ep 4b, down with the sickness)
so yeah, i can see the resentment leo may have for his father deep down. it could be pretty apparent post-krang, hidden behind his jokes and teases
now don’t get me wrong, they have their moments of bonding, and i do love to read little drabbles and fics where they hug and heal. however… realistically speaking, it would take a while for them to get to that stage of father-son bonding post-krang. with splinter naming him leader out of the blue, to the missing lou jitsu posters on the walls of leo’s room in the movie — and we’re definitely talking about that in a later post, trust — i would bet their relationship as father-son pre and post-movie would be extremely rocky.
another reasoning for this could be that splinter often underestimates and undermines leo’s abilities and accomplishments. far as i’ve seen, the most reaction splinter’s given to leo’s accomplishments is an eyebrow raise
for example, when outsmarting big mama, leo was genuinely proud of spending time w his dad and showing him his abilities. he genuinely thought they were working together. however, splinter didn’t say he was proud or anything, just complained he wished he’d brought donnie (s2ep 2, many unhappy returns)
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“I knew I should have brought Purple.”
ouch. that mustve hurt a bit
and yes, i will admit, leo was being a bit of a little shit in this scene, and yes, he could’ve told splinter of the plan before starting to yap and blab to big mama about the plan he cooked up. however, the response splinter gives is not much better. essentially, he’s saying, “i don’t like this kid or his plan, so therefore i think i should’ve brought one of my favored children to solve the problem better.”
and before you go and tell me donnie could’ve outsmarted big mama the way leo did, think for a moment. leo fully admitted to manipulating and lying in an episode before
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“I don’t lie, I just… change the truth.”
whereas donnie cannot tell a lie to save his life. i love him, but the guy is a shit liar. he has failed multiple times at it
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“We are just typical normal humans.. who got lost in the middle of our normal… everyday human lives— nailed it.”
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“Uh… nothing. Just having a typical, normal, mystic-free day.” “What? I said mystic-free.”
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“Why aren’t you guys more upset?”
“Oh. This… hurts me. Uh… I’m very sad…?”
raph & mikey aren’t much better. mikey straight-up started sweating when he had to lie to splinter about piebald, and raph has so many different stinks/scents to him that it’d be easy for others to tell he was lying
also, mikey has doctor delicate touch. who does not know what lying or “don’t be blunt” means
and donnie’s really only being extremely straightforward with what he thinks or about what’s going on around him. so it makes no sense as to why splinter would want to bring donnie along to outsmart big mama, unless he genuinely doesn’t enjoy leo’s presence, which seems to be the case
now all of this is evidence to point towards a very unsteady father-son relationship with these two. yes, splinter seems to be a very lenient father, and i genuinely think he wants to be a good dad. however, oftentimes that leads to miscommunication and misread moments, empty promises, and overall neglecting behavior on his part, all without meaning to
so while he does try harder to be there for his sons later in the show, it’s pretty obvious that one brother — who thrived off any attention possible — probably stopped caring about that validation after all that he went through. splinter gives, but leo doesn’t take. he doesn’t bother to, because he thinks it’s either a prank of some kind, or because he just genuinely doesn’t care for his father’s input anymore.
(this was based on that one post about splinter & leo by @midwesternvibes, i just figure i revisit that bc i’m thinkin about it again)
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helluvapoison · 4 months
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You were a rare soul— and that means something down here. You didn’t care about holding the title Overlord, nor the power that came with it. You had exactly zero souls under your belt, yet people… respected you. Not feared, respected. A peculiar word to hear in Hell.
Your name was uttered quieter than a whisper, like saying it an octave too loud would summon you.
The Rat King.
Soon you would meet…
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer Morningstar ⁎⁺˳✧༚
warnings: gn reader, language, angst, canon divergence
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
• He thought it was very brave (re: idiotic) to carry the title king in his domain
• Lucifer came to you out of boredom, absurdity, and— no shit— the slightest bit of self indulgence! He was supposed to see this so called second king and rip them a new asshole. Except you weren’t a king— not even close
• He scoured you toes to head, seemingly unimpressed. Not rat-like, not king-like. Lucifer knew himself well enough to know he should have been bored by now. His expectations plummeted, nothing was going according to plan. And yet.. he found himself more curious than before
“You’re this ‘Rat King’ I hear so much about?”
“I guess so” You shrugged, “But I didn’t pick that name for myself.”
• You properly introduced yourself to the one and only king. Your real name tasted interesting on his tongue. Lucifer tested it thrice as he shook your hand, relooking you over like he missed something
• Apparently they called you The Rat King because you were in the secret trading business. Give one, get one. Simple as that. You explained the rules to him over a cup of tea that he asked for. It wasn’t his first or second choice of blend but he drank it to be polite. No other motive. Definitely not because there was a question on the tip of his split tongue
• Lucifer wasn’t the most observant of people. He couldn’t tell what people were thinking, he wasn’t fluent in body language. So when he caught your eyes bouncing between his tight grip on the chipped cup you offered him, to his jittery knee sticking out from where he sat. His body and his head were, for one, in agreeance; leave, they told him. He didn’t like to be sized up and that was always his go to answer for why someone was watching him so intently. But with his chest facing you, and his heart in control, he stayed put
• “Lilith.” He choked out, “I want any knowledge you have on her.”
Saying her name out loud hurt more than he thought it would. It was acid in his belly, smoke in his lungs, and fire on his tongue.
Your smile faded.
“What?” He scoffed, “Lemme guess, you want something, right? A deal? I have to make a deal to find my own wife? Let’s get this over with then! I’m the fucking King of Hell, whatever you want is—“
Your hand shot out so suddenly that Lucifer was almost disappointed. He was expecting this. Right? This is what Sinners did, it’s why they were here. Why was he hoping you’d be different? And, more importantly, when did hope creep into his system again? He hadn’t been on good terms with the feeling in decades.
• However, Lucifer’s disappointment was killed before it could spread. Gently, so gently he could cry, you took his hand and pushed it, palm down, onto the table. Your eyes never left his. There was something about them that captivated him. He loathed it. It made him feel small. Not the kind of small that equaled insignificant, either.
No, it was worse.
Vulnerable.
“I don’t do deals,” You said quickly and it had Lucifer wondering if those eyes of yours saw how his mind was spiraling.
Stealing his hand back, ignoring how he immediately missed the contact, he wiped it on his pants.
A suspicious glare took over his face, “You—?What? You don’t do deals? What does that even mean!?”
“I just… trade secrets,” You sounded so defeated, “I don’t need deals for that. But I don’t have any secrets about the queen. I’m sorry.”
• Lucifer expected pity to rear its ugly head from you any moment now. His pride couldn’t take that hit, not today. What was it about you that made him so fucking transparent?
• The uncomfortable silence began creeping into the insufferably small shop of yours. It was fucking suffocating.
“I wish I could help you, I really do.” You said softly.
He really wished you would stop doing that. Your softness felt like a dagger to the heart. Reminding him it existed was agony he thought he’d never feel again.
• “Not one?” Lucifer asked bitterly.
Not a single one of these undeserving demons and sinners that Lilith loved so much spoke about her? Not a whisper or a rumor? They just forgot about her? It’s only been 4 years!
“I’m sorry, your majesty, if I hear something, I can—“
“No… No, it’s fine.” Lucifer cut you off, holding up his hand. His wedding ring blinded him with a sparkling gleam. He sighed, “I think we’re done here.”
• You stepped behind him cautiously, walking him to the door.
“You’re welcome to come back?”
He scoffed out a laugh, grinning at you from over his shoulder, “You’re not getting any of my secrets.”
A smile of your own began to spread.
“I also dabble in conversation.”
_
(part one? or move on to the next character? i dunno if i feel like continuing but want this to be as interactive as possible so tell me what you would like to see!)
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janitorhutcherson · 6 months
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Bf!Futturman Headcanons (Future Man)
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there is NOT enough future man content! allow @dollfacedalls and i to fix that :p these r some headcanons we came up with real quick. if there are typos, sorry guys lolz. its 3am and i just typed this up bc i felt like we needed some josh futturman content. enjoy the sweaty loser boyfriend vibes!
Bf!Futturman who tries to be flirty and sexy but is unsuccessful. You've been out all day, and you've just gotten home. The moment you walk through the door, Josh is in front of you in a pair of dinosaur boxers with a huge, cheesy smile. You know why, and you know what he's wanting. You can't help but grin like an idiot as you put your bags down, walking towards him to place your hands on his hips. Before you can do so, Josh attempts to lean against the coffee table in a sexy fashion. Of course, as expected, he loses his balance, his feet falling out from under you. He lets out a yelp as his elbow hits the coffee table, your eyes wide as you run to assist him. "Baby," you gasp as you kneel. "Are you okay?" you mumble as he repositions himself, now leaning on his hurt elbow on his side, the toothy grin back on his face. "Yeah.. fine now that you're here, sexy," he says, wiggling his eyebrows as you roll your eyes, hitting his shoulder.
Bf!Futturman who is so clingy that he misses you so much, making him even want to be you. You two live together, Josh finally having moved out of his childhood home to get an apartment with you. You were at work, and Josh was upset. He felt like his other half was missing. It wasn't fair that he was off and you weren't. So.. naturally, he did what any man who was missing his partner would do -- he tried on your clothes, sprayed himself in your perfume, listened to your favorite songs, and watched your favorite TV show. When you walked into your apartment to him sitting on the couch in your dress, the apparent scent of your cherry-scented perfume in the air, Dance Moms on the TV, you gasped. The moment his eyes locked with yours, Josh froze, his eyes wide, not really sure what to say. Your eyes darted to the empty bottle on the table; your lonely boyfriend had drained your expensive perfume. Josh's eyes followed yours to the bottle as he shot up, walking over to you with raised eyebrows. "I swear, baby, I- I'll buy you a new bottle," he awkwardly muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. 
Bf!Futturman who wants an ugly cat with you. No, not just a cat, but an ugly one. He wanted to find the most hideous, rattiest, mangy-looking cat the two of you could find. At first, you were somewhat frustrated with how adamant he was about the situation. You would've been much happier with a fluffy kitten with pretty blue eyes and soft fur. But no, you loved your boyfriend so much you'd given in. Josh convinced you he wanted one because 'nobody wants the ugly ones.' He claimed it was an action from the goodness of his heart, an action to save a poor kitty. He never would've said it out loud, but the reality was he didn't think the name Barthalomeow fit a pretty kitten. You ended up with a fluffy cat with huge brown eyes bulging from its skull. Its bottom teeth hung out of its mouth, and its brown fur stuck up in every which way... Yeah... it was hideous for sure, but Bathalomeow loved you and his kitty dad so that you couldn't be too mad.
Bf!Futturman gets so sucked into his game that he doesn't notice anything around him. When you weren't around, and he wasn't working, Josh did NOTHING but play Biotic Wars. He'd be so sucked into the game for hours, going to disgusting extremes to avoid having to press pause. When you were home, though, he'd only dedicate an hour or two a day to the game. This usually didn't bother you, but one particular day, you were feeling incredibly desperate for his attention, his eyes locked onto his TV screen as his fingers moved stealthily across his keyboard. You felt like you'd attempted everything. At first, you just tried his name. No luck. Then, you tried tapping his shoulder. Barely flinched. Your next action was more severe, seeing if your words would stir anything in him. "Baby," you called out, your annoyance apparent. "Hm?" he hummed with a half-assed response. "I'm going to my other man's house in a few. Is that cool?" you said from behind him, sprawled out on the bed with your eyebrows raised, your eyes throwing daggers toward the back of his head. "Yeah, whatever, babe, I'll see you later," he mumbled quickly as a loud groan left your lips. "Jesus christ," you mumbled. "Gonna jump off of a bridge, Joshy," you sang out jokingly, to which Josh responded, "Okay, baby." It felt hopeless, that was, until you had an idea. You threw your shirt off, your bare chest exposed as you pranced over to him, standing in front of him. Josh glanced over at you for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as he reached his hand up to grasp your boob before looking back to his screen. "Mm, give me another hour," he hummed, his attention once again back on Future Man. Nope, didn't work. You'd revisit in an hour when you were his girlfriend again, and it wasn't his controller getting all of the hand action.
Bf!Futturman that attempts to cook for you. Josh could not cook. This was a given considering in order to cook, you had to have good coordination and be able to somewhat follow directions. Unless in video game form, it was difficult for Josh to do both. You didn't mind, enjoying making dinner and snacks for the two of you. It wasn't until one night Josh wanted to surprise you. He'd watched a YouTube video online on how to make a baked chicken with broccoli, mashed potatoes, along with a few other things. He didn't think twice about the difficulty, already feeling like a chef as he turned off his phone. He was soon proven very wrong, as about an hour later, you walked into the door to the smell of burning meat and smoke filling your kitchen. Josh stood in the center of it all, surrounded by far too many pans for him to be making such a simple dish, many of them filled with what looked like pure charcoal. He looked at you with sad eyes, a pout on his lips. "I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to make a mess. I really just wanted to do something nice for you like you do for me," he said softly as he walked over to you. You embraced him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his head. "Hey, 's okay baby, we can just order takeout," you giggled, deciding to turn the oven off and leave the mess for another time. 
Bf!Futturman who has no filter and lacks an understanding of time and place. The two of you were inside an art museum. You pulled out your phone to snap a cute selfie. The moment he saw the camera, he pulled you close, stiffening his entire body as he stared into the camera with a blank expression. You snapped the picture, reviewing it afterward as your smile dropped. "Seriously, Josh?" you asked as you raised your eyebrows, showing him the photo where he looked both uninterested and terrified all at once. He snickered with amusement, his nose scrunching up. "God, people are going to think I kidnapped you," you muttered under your breath. He nudged you with his shoulder, raising his eyebrows up and down. "That's because you did!" he exclaimed as he pretended to yank out of your grip. People began to stare, and Josh just snickered as you smacked his shoulder. "Shut up, Futturman!" you gritted through your teeth, rolling your eyes. God, you loved him, but oh, how he pissed you off sometimes.
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famwhy · 11 months
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Bereavement (2)
noun
/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse
42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader
Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?
Note: I can't—for the life of me—believe how many notes the first part got after just a few days of being out, you guys are actually insane. Thank you all so much. And thank you too, Kingpin, for giving me the idea in the first place lmao. (Do me a huge solid and lemme know if any of my Spanish needs some work, I studied it for 3 years but it's been over a year since it's been put to practice so I'm a little rusty)
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Miles would never drop you, not in a million years—you knew that.
Something had stopped him, forced him to let go as he froze in time; in an assortment of colours he couldn't control—that was how you found yourself where you were now—free-falling to your death for what was perhaps the second time in your life.
"Y/N!"
It was a lot scarier the first time—you had to admit—when you fell from the glass room right beside the huge collider more than a year ago. At the time, Miles had insisted you stay away from his spider business for your own safety, but you—being you—followed him down anyway.
That was your first mistake.
Your second—however—came in the form of letting Kingpin know you were there after allowing quite the ridiculous sneeze out of your mouth. And once he saw you, it wasn't hard for him to pick you up and throw you through the shattered glass in his rage and dismay of his failed plan.
Miles had his back completely turned to you when it happened, and yet—somehow—he was the first to whip his head around and notice your quickly descending form.
"Y/N!"
You had come so close to the ground—seconds away from touching it—when that familiar warmth wrapped its way around your waist, carrying you through the wind to prop you onto your own little cloud of safety.
Ever since then, Miles refused to leave your side. He took you out on every mission he went to—pretty much every news station had you pinned down as 'Spiderman's girl' and he never bothered to correct them.
So even as Gwen went off to another dimension, Miles grabbed you before following after. Even as he was invited to the headquarters of this 'spider society', he refused to go without them also granting you permission inside too.
When you asked him why he went to such lengths for you, he simply replied, "I almost lost you once while being in the same dimension as you, if you think I'm going to let it even come close to happening again, you've got another thing coming."
So no, you didn't find the second time you were falling to your death all that scary. Not when you knew Miles would save you—
"I've got you, cariño."
—you just didn't exactly know that it would be the other one that did.
His arms were wound tightly around the underside of your knees and upper back—carrying you so intimately, looking at you with so much love in his eyes, you found yourself growing slightly flustered.
...okay, very flustered.
"Oh, Cariño," as he spoke, he didn't lose the breath in his tone—the gentle air of disbelief he took on since your arrival, "you're here. I can't believe it—you're here. Te extrañé mucho." ("I missed you so much.")
You were speechless, gaping up at him like a clueless fish—what else could you do? You were being held in the arms of a copy of your best friend after he basically just confessed to you because the 'you' in this universe was apparently dead.
Though, luckily for you, there was no need to say a word for he continued speaking with those soft, fond eyes, "I missed your smile and your laugh. I missed how you always used to tug me around whenever something caught your eye... and how you would go on and on about whatever show was your new obsession of the month. You were always so... pretty when you spoke passionately.
"Speak for me, cariño," he continued, "let me hear that pretty voice of yours again."
"I—" you were stuttering—why were you stuttering?—"I, uh..."
Pull yourself together, Y/N.
"Miles—"
"Ah, I just realised how much I missed the way you say my name."
"—guh!" How the hell was he spitting such smooth lines? "Miles! Just listen for a minute, okay?!"
"Of course, mamí."
"I— I'm not who you think I am. I mean, I am Y/N but I'm not your Y/N. And you're not my Miles."
As the words came tumbling out your mouth, the boy's—this earth's Miles'—lips tugged down, gaze hardening and grip around you ever-so-slowly growing tighter.
"Don't be silly, mamí, of course I'm your Miles. I always have been and always will be."
Your brows furrowed and your eyes trailed to the view behind him, moving rapidly as you tried to locate your best friend. Though, soon, your view of the sky was cut off by the male with braids once more.
"What are you doing?" A growl. "Stop looking for him, look at me. I'm right here. He dropped you."
"He glitched! This isn't his world so of course he would, it wasn't his fault!"
You were quick to defend him—he was your best friend so of course you were. There was no way you were having anyone accuse him of anything negative, even himself.
"Cariño, you almost died. Again. He can't take care of you." Miles narrowed his eyes, as if just the thought pissed him off; as if he had the right to be pissed off.
"Oh what?" You scoffed. "And you can? I'm my own person, I don't need to be taken care of."
Stubbornly, you found yourself pulling away from him—or well, attempting to at least, he didn't seem to want to let you though, judging by the way his claws slowly began to dig into you a little.
His eyes were narrowed and his lips were tugged down, gaze seeming to pierce through you—as though he was trying to use you as a vessel to glare at the person he was really mad at.
Though, soon, the expression was gone, replaced by sullen eyes and an almost-far-away look—glossed over in a cloudy haze full of what you could only assume to be the grand despair that was grief; grief over a loss so great, it would pain someone to even admit it ever happened.
"Cariño, please. I don't want to argue with you, I just got you back. Please."
The look on his face, the crack in his voice—it was all too much, you almost couldn't stomach it, and soon, your arms loosened up as you lost the will to pull away.
"Miles," you whispered, "I... I'm really sorry—"
"Don't be, you're here with me now, aren't you? We can make up for all that lost time."
"I can't." Your vision blurred as you shook your head from side-to-side. "I'm sorry, I can't."
For a moment, all was silent. No words were exchanged, leaving only the strong wind to howl in your ears; to warn you of your grave mistake and whisper taunts into your ears. Then—
"It's because of him, isn't it?"
You almost couldn't muster words. "Huh?"
"The other me—it's because of him that you won't stay with me, isn't it?"
The look in his eyes was something of a dark nature, swirling with malice; with hate so inextricibly deep, you almost couldn't believe your own eyes—because... because there was just no way, right? There was no way your Miles (or any other Miles for that matter) could exhibit such a lethal level of loathing towards anyone...
"If I get rid of him, it won't be so much of a problem anymore... sí?"
...or was there?
@justmare, @majestichugs, @milktealvrr, @ladyfairenvale, @sakura-onesan, @haunted-pass, @phoenixgurl030, @stupendousnightmaretrash, @ultimate-geek14, @liaaa-1, @sluslutts, @angrypomeranianwifey, @thatbeanieboss, @kkate8008, @lilslmao, @honeydewpie, @elenasstxarr, @sloverr, @quartzangel0, @crystalsinwater, @astrosdelululand, @sflame15-blog, @nightshxdex, @dottoresgarden, @crowshiny, @teamowolverine, @bangtannie7, @k0la22, @kissmxcheek, @myloveforreading, @jared-oranges, @shisuishoe, @veryfancydoilies, @sunshinesetsstuff, @lovefks, @omg-the-nutella-queen, @hazzapotter, @levanneisdumb, @angie2274, @blueberrystigma
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silversodas · 4 months
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Interesting Alastor Insights
I think I may have figured out what was up Alastor’s ass in Dead Beat Dad. On one hand it may be a deeper issue that I am missing some context for, but I actually think it’s a little simpler then we think.
Even before Lucifer arrived, Alastor was clearly not happy about him coming over, and yes Alastor was 100% full of shit in the dad off song, BUT! Something note worthy is that he was not only being possessive of the Hotel (claiming to be its host and even greeting Lucifer as the master of the house does) but is also weirdly possessive of Charlie
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And right down to the “fuck you” to Lucifer’s face it was projecting “get your feet off of my damn coffee table and get outta my house” energy. At first I was wondering what crawled up Alastor’s ass and died, and then Hell’s greatest Dad starts playing and..
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“Who’s been faithful as a Nun? Who’s been here since day one?”
And it dawned on me and I was like “Alastor, why are you acting like your being replaced?” And Charlie is just as confused at Alastor’s behavior, like this came out of nowhere. Apparently Alastor was determined to show Lucifer who the Genie of this bottle is. But I didn’t believe it at first, I was like “nah it has to be something else” but then Mimzy gave some VARY interesting insight
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When Mimzy first arrived, Alastor has a look that says (oh this is all I need right now) but he still seems happy to see her
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Like holy shit, he happily reciprocates the hug, but that’s not to surprising if you know who Mimzy is if you have been fallowing Viv for a while
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When she mentioned that he frequented the club (speakeasy)that she preformed in I was like “oh! They are drinking buddies!” Drinking Buddies are someone you generally only know the fun side of because you only hang out together at the bar, but Mimzy highlights a different side to their relationship
“Put on some Jazz, and pour a few fingers of Rye, and he becomes a kitten”
This gives me insight that while they were alive, she wasn’t just his drinking buddy and dance partner, she was his comfort zone. The way she phrased this sentence, made it sound like this was something she used to do for Alastor when they were alive, maybe she was a soothing presence as well as an entertaining one in Alastor’s life. But bar friends can sometimes be pretty high maintenance friends outside the bar, actually I think a lot of us have had something close to a friend like Mimzy in our lives. Apparently she is so bad that even Husk is concerned enough about Alastor to try and talk to him about her
“You and I both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs something. That bitch is trouble, and who knows what demon she fucked with to come running to you this time”
Alastor’s response threw me for a loop
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“It’s nothing I can’t handle, don’t worry Husker, who would cross me?”
So Alastor is not immune to having toxic friends? I always assumed he would just drop anyone who became to much trouble, this is an interesting surprise. And on top of that he’s…an enabler!? Huh…that is super interesting to know. Putting a pin in the rest of this interaction for another post because there is a lot to unpack with husk and alastor. Except for the being on a leash thing because it made me realize something.
What if the reason he felt upstaged by Lucifer was not because Lilith told him to keep him away (yeah I am subscribing to the Lilith theory, it’s to much to Be a coincidence) but because he is legitimately afraid of no longer being needed by Charlie? What if, if he isn’t needed by Charlie then he has to go back to wherever he was the last 7 years? Everyone assumes he is free because he acts as such, but is he? Like real question, what if he was a straight up gift to Charlie in a way? Even if it was a “look after my daughter” command I would still call that sending a gift.
And oh man, what if he was suppose to tell the whole truth to Charlie but gave the whole, “I am here for entertainment” speech instead.
And your probably thinking, Charlie wouldn’t tell him to leave. Yeah but does Alastor know that? And he probably thinks Lilith might call him back anyway if he is not needed but just hanging out. But as we have seen, he cant even except his own situation
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I will unpack this whole encounter later, but for real I don’t even think he is that mad at husk, he was mad at the reminder that his soul doesn’t belong to him any more. Like look at his face, it’s the most upset we have ever seen him, and it’s so detailed. He looks enraged, but also hurt at the same time. He and Charlie are not friends, yet, but I think he does feel some what safe at the hotel and maybe that’s enough for now
I also think there is some stock in Alastor hating that Lucifer is a bad dad theory, because that contempt was so raw and he did calm the fuck down a little bit during the “more then anything” song
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But those are my random insights of Alastor, there were more but this is already to long I just hope it’s coherent
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genshin-scenarios · 2 months
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what flowers they’d give their s/o
Summary: A raffle request from my Adopt a Wanderer preorders! They’re a mix of genshin and HSR, but I’m posting it here as Wanderer’s included! If you'd like to see more HSR content from me, feel free to drop a request at @tiramisu-rambles! 
Characters: Wanderer, Luocha, Jingyuan, Aventurine, Sunday
Content warnings: implications of character death in Luocha’s part.
Adopt a Wanderer: Digital Store
Red String of Fate Prompt List
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Wanderer: Anemones
Sincerity, forsaken love, anticipation, protection from evil.
Just like the many versions of himself, anemones are windflowers with various meanings depending on their color. And despite the hurt Wanderer’s been through, his barriers are worn down by your honest intentions; your brightness, moments of quiet connection, and how you’re adored by many.
He’s glad the wind has brought him to you. These flowers may have a delicate appearance, but it’s obvious that neither of you are so fickle.
“They’re a protection from evil, apparently. Something about closing its petals when it rains.” 
“Really? In that case, I have a version of that already with you!”
It’s a bouquet made with multicolored hues, where he hands himself to you. A small thanks for acknowledging his past, and a few blooms that represent anticipation for the future.
It’s been a while since he’s been vulnerable enough to feel nervous about something. But it’s a more positive spin on the emotion, akin to excitement when he knows he’s going to see you — but Wanderer would rather choke than use a word so innocently childish to describe himself.
Due to its wild nature, anemones also symbolize relaxation and a reminder to enjoy the moment. To take in opportunities at the right time, as he’s learned from you.
Luocha: Marigolds
Resurrection, energy, good luck, warmth, prosperity, jealousy.
Luocha sees you in the warmth of the flowers, as powerful as the Sun despite your bubbly outlook. He sees the light, which makes him worry he might taint your smile with his true nature.
You thank him for the flowers, thinking of him as the miracle doctor that’s giving you a gift. He is, but he also hopes you don’t get closer without being aware of what he is.
Marigolds represent despaired love, although this is mostly on Luocha’s part as he constantly sidelines himself, making himself a ‘side character’ rather than a potential partner for you. But he’s too selfish to completely step out of your life, accepting your invitations to lunch and walks along the harbor. He says the world feels peaceful around you. It’s true.
These flowers are often associated with life and death. In this case, it’s Luocha’s silent promise to always protect you, even if you might not want it yourself. 
And if there comes a day where he has to pick between saving one or another… He’ll make sure you get out alive. Perhaps he’ll even save the bystanders around so you’ll keep calling him a wonderful doctor, before his powers fail to heal his own wounds.
Jingyuan: Forget Me Nots
Clinging to the past, faithfulness, remembrance, true love, fidelity.
‘I’ll keep you in my thoughts,’ they say. A warm sentiment from the General, and behind them the memories of all he’s gained and lost in the past.
Jingyuan is used to being alone. He’s a leader after all, who wears the air of one without a care in the world. He’s capable and busy, but what he says as a teasing remark contains words that can be read very differently.
‘Don’t forget me.’
Forget me nots also symbolize links to the past. For a long-life species, it’s easy to feel the days melt together, and beautiful sights aren’t as vivid anymore.
That’s why Jingyuan thanks you for letting him remember — remember what it’s like to be surprised again, to see the sky and find it breathtaking, along with your voice in the wind. He wants to remember all of this as long as he can, so he gives you these flowers on occasion to remind himself.
“Do you miss me that much, General?” 
“Of course. There isn’t enough time in the world to spend with you.”
He starts to appreciate his lifespan again, for having the chance to run into you along the way.
Aventurine: Daffodils 
Honesty, truth, forgiveness, appreciation. 
Despite the amount of lying and masks he wears, Aventurine knows there is truth in the anxiety he feels around you. The same feeling before a risky gamble, where he hopes his bluffs will deceive his opponent.
…He doesn’t know what he’d do if you ever looked at him with disappointment. If he somehow managed to fool you into expecting something he cannot give; heart ringing hollow, echoing deeper and deeper in resonance every time you interact.
Perhaps one day this hollow ringing will actually turn into a heartbeat, and he can finally face you as Kakavasha. (Put aside the fact that despite his persona, Aventurine is still facing the world with honesty in every act).
He also chooses Daffodils because, in his attempt at excusing these sentiments, he simply thinks of you as his source of honesty and truth. A Sun that the flowers lean toward, after blooming each spring despite the desolate, cutthroat winter.
‘Please forgive me. Please don’t look away.’
Daffodils also symbolize rebirth, new beginnings, and good luck. Perhaps you can draw this out of Aventurine, who’s been on guard against the world for as long as he can remember?
Be the sunlight that sifts through the window, greeting him every day; a good-luck charm he continues to believe in.
Sunday: Violets 
Peace, devotion, healing. 
You bring him peace. With every smile you direct at Sunday, he feels hope that the world around him can be rebuilt. ‘You heal me,’ the flowers say. And despite how candied flowers dry bitterly on the tongue…
‘After all this is over, I’ll devote myself to you.’
He can’t be sure if you believe him, but Sunday has long disposed of the idea of predicting you. ‘It makes you human’, his sister once said.
Violets are reminders of loyalty, thoughtfulness, and dependability. Sunday looks out for you at every corner, even if his presence isn’t tangible. He notices your little victories and joys, feeling his heart twinge from the distance. And when your days are bleak, just know there is another soul mourning with you, playing a song to soothe your sorrows.
He’s devoted to you long before the drama of politics are done. In a sense, one can almost say he’s too caring — from a glance it appears he’s not bothered with you, and watch for a minute longer, the small, irrelevant commands given to his subordinates ring clear with thoughts of you.
Sunday doesn’t put a spotlight on his love, yet showers it with the adoration of the moon. Quiet, graceful, and just a bit selfish.
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monster-slxt · 8 months
Note
You are an exorcist that specializes in exorcising demons.
Currently, you are investigating a small town that's had an unusual amount demonic activity.
You questioned the towns people, however, most seem unwilling to even mention the stranger going ons in their town and simply avoid your questions before quickly walking away.
Lucky for you though, you manage to overhear a few of the towns folk gossiping with each other.
Apparently, for the last few months, a terrifying creature has been roaming the streets seemingly search for something. What it is looking for no one wants to know...
Even more terrifying was that anyone foolish enough to still be out at night would go missing. Only to be found the next morning unconscious with their clothes in tatters.
You then visit the local church to see if the priest if he knows anything.
The priest is surprisingly welcoming of you. Quickly leading you inside and even offering some refreshments.
You explain why your here and ask if priest may know of anything. But the priest sadly shakes his head.
With a sigh, you get up to leave, but are quickly stopped by the priest. He says that it is too dangerous to go out this late and that you should stay in the church with him at least until sunrise.
Deciding it's probably a good idea, you agree.
That night as you sleep in the bed given to you, the priest silently creeps into the room. He stares down with glowing red eyes at your sleeping form.
He so desperately wanted to crawl on top of you and rip that teasingly thin layer of clothing from your oh so tempting body and fuck you until your moans like a bitch in heat.
But ah, he can't. Not yet at least. It simply wasn't the right moment.
It ironic really, before he would have condemn such lecherous thoughts. Back then he was a devout servant of God. A truly holy man.
But that was before he got possessed by the demon. Before his mind and soul were beyond redemption.
Now he was nothing more than a monster that indulges into his own sin.
For the past few months his demon had been searching for a mate, but has had no luck.
None of the humans he found were right. Sure they were decent fucks, but they broke way too easily and left him unsatisfied.
Then you appeared.
The moment he saw you, he knew you were perfect. A single whiff of your scent was enough to have the demon in him purring.
Oh he couldn't wait to see you round with his offspring! All in good time, love~
Kissing you on the mouth anon this is so good-
Of course, in the morning the priest would offer up the bed for as long as I needed to rid the town of its demonic influence. And of course I'd suspect nothing from a holy man. The next few days would go on much the same, getting nowhere with the locals during the day and sleeping in the church at night. The priest taking every opportunity to leer at me while I sleep, weakening my defense slowly with his unholy magic. At least The townsfolk seemed to ease up a bit with the lack of recent attacks.
It was only when I'd finally gotten frustrated with getting nowhere and decided to go out at night myself that I'd catch a glimpse of anything demonic. A huge hulking beast unlike anything I'd seen in all my years as an exorcist with a goats head and huge bat wings. The most I'd ever dealt with was a tiny imp. So I panicked.
All I could think to do in the moment was run for the church, the beast lazily keeping pace. It was clear as it followed me onto the holy ground that there was nothing I could possibly do. The sudden hint of arousal mixed into the fear the beast could smell of me finally became too much to bear- lunging forwards and easily catching me in its claws.
"I've waited so long for this" a rumbling deep yet somehow familiar voice purrs in my ear as long claws shred my clothes like butter. My attempts to flee were quickly stopped by an ungodly long tongue licking down my neck and a sudden weight on my stomach.
Risking a glance I felt faint. The demons cock was so huge there was no possible way it could fit inside me. Though he seemed intent on trying, pulling back and lining up with my cunt.
Without warning half the huge rod slammed inside of me, the stretch unimaginable. He wasted no time in pulling out and jackhammering back in, each thrust forcing more and more of his demonic cock in me. It was only then that I dimly became away of the familiarity in the demons voice; the priest. He moaned how I would be such a good broodmare, taking his corruption so well.
All night he fucked me, never once slowing down. Pumping me full of his demonic seed over and over again until sun rise. Leaving me with my stomach huge and swollen with cum, no doubt already knocked up, to go get ready for Sunday mass.
Nine months later I'm showing a group of church woman my engagement ring, stomach round and tight with twins. How lucky I was, the ladies cooed, that the priest was willing to marry me pregnant with an exes child. Not many men would, but he was just so good and holy.
If only they knew they knew they were praying with the father of the hellspawn kicking in my stomach
820 notes · View notes
colie-nne · 1 year
Note
Hello dear writer 👋 there's this reader-insert prompt in my head that I couldn't just get it out of my head. I hope this prompt takes your interest. It's up to you how you will want this to go as whether it be an imagine, headcannon or etc. Thank you, much love 𔘓
Prompt:
Carlos Sainz Jr., the renowned Formula One driver, takes to his social media account and shares a cryptic message that hints about a special someone in his life. As fans eagerly await further details, it becomes apparent that Carlos' significant other is no ordinary person – but is a beauty queen in her country.
my queen
pairing: carlos sainz x beauty queen!reader | instagram au
requested: yes | no
a/n: Hi this is my first in au, hope I did your request justice. I also really really liked the prompt, thanks for the request!! (Requests are open)
+ Valiente will be updated tomorrow so hang tight.💌
carlossainz55
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liked by charles_leclerc and 163,452 others
carlossainz55 On a trip with royalty❤️
view all 1,045 comments
user excuse me? Carlos?
charles_leclerc a trip with royalty indeed👑
user what's with all the royalty?
user 😍😍😍
user Carlos is entering his aesthetic era!!!
Daily WAG updates
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liked by pierregasly and 217,951 others
Daily WAG updates Ferrari's very own Carlos Sainz is seen with a mystery woman on a beach trip to the Maldives. The source stated that the two have been cozy with each other the entire time. Are we seeing a new wag on the paddock this coming season?
view all 524 comments
user oh carlos has game all along
user lord, i see what you've done for others
user does this have something to do with the royalty thing?
user to be the girls these f1 men date !!!
user girl i don't think that's a mystery woman at all
user care to explain?🤨 user Carlos has been following Spain's winner for some universal pageant or whatever for about a long time now, even before her winning the crown. So I'm not going to be shocked if the mystery woman's her. user reallyy?? what's her @? user its yourusername
user Pierre wtf you doing here?!☠️
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 326,803 others
yourusername very late vacation dump 🌶️
user ahhh y/n!! i've missed you
user will you be coming to the show in Paris?
yourusername of course!! can't miss it😊 user oH MY GOD! she responded, Y/n i love you!!
user uhmm... looks like you didn't crop a pic properly🧐
liked by landonorris
user why is lando here😭
user omyy just came here from the wags update!!! the emoji and the cropping error just proved a lot of things
user wdym wag update? user just search it up you'll see the most recent one.
yourusername
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liked by carlossainz55, vittoria and 771,218 others
yourusername are you happy to be in Paris? oui...it's good to be back
user the fact that a French designer invited Miss Universe-Spain to their show, shows how wanted the y/n l/n is in the fashion industry. this is coming from a french woman too
carlossainz oui🥐
charles_leclerc no, mate... no yourusername i wholeheartedly agree with you user f1 collab, when?
user CARLOS?! Is this a confirmation?
vittoria looking good 👑❤️
user there's the crown thing again. who is she anyways? user how the hell, don't you guys know who y/n is? she's the reigning miss universe and the most sought Spanish beauty queen after years. user ooh so she's from Spain too. I see now user ☠️
user why am I just realizing the meaning of the crown emoji...
Daily WAG updates
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caption: ✈️ >> 👑🇫🇷
331,092 likes
Daily WAG updates Carlos is confirmed to go on his way to Y/n. The story was posted 5 hours ago. He might be in Paris now, update you guys soon.
user the fact that you've typed that so casually just tells me how much you've waited to have a Carlos girl on the paddock
user He be flying to his girl during his supposed time to rest... when will it be my time?
user the fact that we all know he'll be meeting y/n despite them not confirming it yet is so funny.
f1updates
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742,663 likes
f1updates Carlos Sainz has landed this evening after being invited by a french-designer in Paris, France.
user ...i see it very clearly now
user the story caption and this just gave everything up. ya'll better confirm it asap
user carlos in a fashion show was not on my 2023 f1 bucket list
user if we see him and y/n together, let's just say that "i told you guys"
yourusername
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liked by carlossainz55 and 931,438 others
yourusername Thank you for tonight, Paris (credits: 🌶️)
user the chili🫣
user y/n!! i love your dress so much, thank you for letting me take a picture with you
user saw her being called into the runway so suddenly, the crown fits her so much🫠
user oop y/n in her soft launching era. is it Carlos?? i hope so
carlossainz55 🤍
user it's confirmed guys... user cute🥲 kill me rn
Daily WAG updates
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Daily WAG updates UPDATE!!! It is confirmed by multiple sources that the reigning Miss Universe Y/n L/n is indeed Carlos Sainz's mystery woman. Who would've thought that our newest WAG would be the queen of the universe herself, can't wait to see her in the paddock!!! 👑
yourusername
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, danielricciardo and 907,531
yourusername bebé, hemos sido atrapados... anyways, these are some of the very flattering pictures of us from our trips during the past 3 months. Buena seurte en tu proxima carrera, mi amor!!
(Baby, we've been caught) - (Good luck on your next race, my love!!)
carlossainz55 mi amor, ¿por qué las fotos? (my love, why the pictures?)
yourusername because you look flattering in them🤩 landonorris flattering isn't what I'd call them
charles_leclerc you should have posted what you posted in the other one
user charles? qhat other one!! user this made me curious yourusername the internet might not handle it!
danielricciardo all hail the king and queen👑
user dannyy😭 yourusername says the man who's insisting Carlos isn't fit for a king danielricciardo why'd you have to do me like that carlossainz55 still has a ring in it, no? landonorris we'll have to see you in a dress before we can answer
1K notes · View notes
cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
Note
I had this though on a cute little one shot for Alastor x chubby reader in the hotel I was wondering if you would like to run with it? Where the reader gets some nail varnish that matches their lip color without thinking about it. Alastor becomes rather fond of them wearing the color and eventually it vanishes after Angel points out that it’s almost the exact same color as the reader’s lips.
The reader ends up pouting a bit over it because they can’t find it anywhere in stores anymore. They ask Angel if they borrowed it to Angel’s confusioned response to the tune of “why the fuck would I want to wear your lip color?” And it gets to the point they ask for Nifty’s help finding it while Alastor is trying to avoid the topic entirely. Eventually Nifty DOES find it in the radio tower much to Alastor’s flustered frustration.
A/N oh hell yes i can do this. 11/10. Also I am skipping the fuck around in my request order, I am so nervous about posting cover up pt 4. I promise it will come out soon.
Spicy Sienna and Berry Naughty (Alastor x Gn!Chubby!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Uhhh I got a little suggestive with this one guys. Sorry. Also,, Alastor is a little creepy and stalkery and has a thing about hands. This one just came out all around weird. Also, I named it after my favorite lip and nail polish matching combo so don't judge the fic by its name. Also Alastor sexualizes the reader a bit. Let me know if I missed anything. (guys i really have no idea what happened with this one, i am so sorry. I hope you still like it.) Also,, Alastor is for sure ooc.
Word Count: 3,675
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List 
Alastor Master List 
Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.
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"Is that a new color?"
Alastor's ears perked up. He didn't turn to face the source of the sound but he listened. There was only one person in the hotel Angel would direct such a question towards after all.
"Yeah. It's essie, Berry Naughty is the name I think? Nail polish and makeup products always get called the silliest things. Do you like it?"
Y/n was the Hazbin Hotel's newest resident. They had arrived just a few weeks before, brought into the fold by Angel himself. The pair were old friends apparently, knew each other from back when they were alive.
"Yeah, it suits you. A lot more than that blue you used to wear."
There were three things the pair could be discussing in Alastor's mind. The first was Y/n's clothing. They were always dressed to the nines, decked out in some crazy ensemble or another.
At first, it had seemed foolish to Alastor. Anyone who cared that much about what they looked like had no shot at being an enjoyable person in his mind. That was before he had started to get to know the demon, seen the joy it brought them to indulge in fashion, realized the things they wore were for them and them alone. Everything had changed with that. It wasn't about persuasion, getting attention, facade. It was just who they were.
The thing about this first theory, however, was that Y/n almost never wore blue.
"Hey!" Y/n laughed, sounding a tad offended, "I liked the blue and I still might go back to it."
The second option was lipstick. Another little hobby the demon indulged in that had caused Alastor to misjudge their character upon their arrival was the makeup. Every few days, they would come down from their room in one crazy look or another. It was always something dramatic, coordinated perfectly to whatever else they had going on. If Y/n loved anything, they loved a theme.
Alastor had again made the mistake of assuming Y/n's enjoyment of such a thing was a representation of their vapidness when he had first met them. He would not be making that mistake again. The thing was, for all their wild self expression and experimental use of colors, he had never once see them sporting blue lipstick, he couldn't even picture it.
"What! I'm just sayin." Angel teased.
The third and final option, the one Alastor decided was what they must be discussing, was their nail polish. Y/n loved the act of painting nails, called it a ritual of self adoration. The way they talked about it, someone would think they were dedicating sacrifices at an alter to the gods. Every week, like clockwork, they would repaint them. Monday afternoons, four o'clock sharp. Their favorite color of late had indeed been a dark, almost black, blue. Alastor had liked it. The color had made something about their hands shine.
"Rude." Y/n scoffed in reply.
Alastor had always loved Y/n's hands. He had always had a thing about hands. In his opinion, hands were the most telling part of a person, or demon even. They showed nerves, experience, hard work -- went straight through to the core of who a person was. A carpenter's hands were rough, a cook's were scarred, an artists stained with color, a string musician's had calluses on the fingertips. Yes, a lot about a person could be learned from their hands.
Y/n's hands were soft, on the smaller side, and without the bony protrusions of their knuckles so many people seemed to admire now days. Alastor had never understood the desirability of skeletal thinness. It was impractical and uncomfortable. Y/n's hands suited them perfectly, Alastor thought. They were his favorite pair of hands to watch, the way they would flit across the keys of a piano, the way they kneaded the dough when she baked, the way they held a pen.
"I mean, it does match your lipstick now which is kinda a look."
At this, Alastor really did turn around. He couldn't help himself.
Y/n and Angel were lounging on the couches of the hotel lobby. They were dressed down, wearing a pair of jeans that hugged their legs and a crop top that accentuated their body perfectly. They looked soft, they looked comfortable, they looked delicious.
The idea of hunger was a complicated one. When Alastor thought of other demons as delicious looking, it was because he wanted to eat them, to consume their flesh that is. Y/n was certainly delicious but, he had no desire to eat them. Not like that, at any rate.
Angel had been right, Alastor could see it from across the room. The soft ruddy red of their nail varnish matched the gloss coating their lips perfectly. Alastor had always loved the color red.
"Wait, really?" Y/n asked, holding a hand up to their face, by their mouth, their nails turned out towards Angel, "Is it bad?"
"Nah, it's honestly kinda a look."
Y/n hummed, moving their hand from their face and staring intently at their nails.
"Maybe it'll be my new color then... This is the gloss I wear when I'm just doing normal makeup."
"Cohesion is key." Angel noted, "If you have a look to fall back on, people tend to like that in my experience."
Y/n stayed true to their word and Alastor relished in this revelation. Over the course of the next week, nearly every time he spotted them around the hotel, they were wearing that same combination of nail polish and lipstick. It was a secret indulgence of his, a treasure.
They nearly caught him staring one time as they were talking with him. It was nothing special, just one of their average, casual chats about the ethics of one situation or another. For someone who had ended up in Hell, Y/n had a soft spot for moral philosophy. It was clearly spill over from some preoccupation of their mortal self.
Mid conversation, he had drifted off. He hadn't meant to, it was the way they talked. Y/n was an animated conversationalist, always moving their hands to accentuate their words in one way or another. It drew his eyes to their hands and their face equally, their nails and their pretty, dark red lips.
"Hey, Alastor... Alastor!"
"Yes, my dear?" he had quickly replied, snapping out of his stupor.
"Are you alright?"
"Why on earth wouldn't I be?"
"You just kinda... trailed off there."
Alastor tried his best to push his embarrassment to the side, to shake it off his shoulders seamlessly. Miraculously, he succeeded. He wasn't quite sure how, when they were watching him with such concern filling their eyes, a slight pout to their lips.
"Just a little distracted. Lots to do today. My apologies, my dear."
"And here I thought you loved deontological thought." Y/n had teased.
Everything was fine. Alastor didn't mind Angel having noticed, it was a well known fact the spider demon saw Y/n as a sibling rather than a potential partner. The pair had grown up together and when Sir Pentious, one night, had asked whether or not they had ever messed around with each other, seeing how close they were and comfortable with physical contact, the pair had made eye contact before each putting on their own display of disgust.
Alastor was good at seeing through people, he knew it hadn't been a show. What was a problem was when Husk somehow noticed the pairing of their lip and nail color as well.
Alastor had been talking to Charlie about one thing or another as Y/n shared a drink with Sir Pentious at the bar. He was half listening to Charlie, half to their conversation. Alastor always kept an ear out for Y/n's saccharine tones.
The pair had been chatting about how their respective journeys to redemption were going when Husk had cut in.
"Did you match your nail color to your lipstick?" he asked in mild amazement.
Alastor bristled. That fact was his, was for him. No one else was allowed to see.
"Yeah!" he heard Y/n brightly reply, a tinge of pride to their voice.
Though Alastor's back was to them, he could picture the way they must be holding their delicate, gentle hands up now.
"Isn't it cute?"
Husk whistled.
"Damn, Angel is finally rubbing off on you."
"I mean, I guess." came Y/n's hesitant reply.
"You trying to catch someone's attention?"
Alastor could hear his own heartbeat in the silence that proceeded their reply.
"I mean, not on purpose. Not with this. I just like the way it looks... I don't know, it makes me feel... pretty."
Y/n was right. Alastor knew for a fact, had seen it with his own eyes, how irresistible the combination made them look. Now others were starting to notice it as well and, well, Alastor couldn't have that, now could he.
The next morning, when Alastor came down for breakfast, he noticed Y/n sitting at the table, looking uncharacteristically despondent. His back to them as he began to prepare his morning cup of coffee, he smiled.
"What's got you down, my dear?" he asked and Y/n sighed.
"My nail polish disappeared."
So, they had already noticed. Alastor picked the carton of milk up off the counter.
"Don't you have others? You're always a veritable rainbow of color!"
Alastor kept his voice light and cheery. His coffee made, he took a seat at the table across from them.
"Yeah, I guess. I just liked that one. It matched my favorite lipstick."
"Couldn't you try another color? That midnight blue last week was rather nice."
"Yeah, I guess." suddenly, their eyes shot up to his, a smile breaking out across their face, "Wait, Al! You're a genius! I'll just go buy another bottle!"
When Y/n returned from the store a few hours later, their gray cloud had returned.
"Are you alright?" Vaggie asked as they slumped onto the couch beside her.
Alastor couldn't help but note, from his hiding place, the way the act of sitting changed their body. They were beautiful standing, stunning even, but something about the way their thighs spread out over the surface of the couch...
"Yeah." Y/n grumbled, "Just... bummed."
"Oh no!" Charlie exclaimed, walking away from the bulletin board she was planning their next lesson on and joining the pair, "What happened?"
"It's stupid." Y/n groaned, throwing their head back.
"Wrong guy hit on you?" Angel teased and they immediately righted themselves, shooting him a glare.
"No." they pointedly replied, "Just... that nail polish? Berry Naughty or whatever its called? The one that matched my Spicy Sienna gloss?"
"Damn, you're pulling out the color names." Angel laughed, "Yeah, I know. What about it?"
"I can't find my bottle anywhere and I went to like seven different stores today and none of them had it! Not one! You didn't borrow it, did'ya Ant?"
Angel put a hand to his chest dramatically.
"Who, me?"
Y/n rolled their eyes.
"Nah." he waved them off, "You know I always ask before I borrow. I learned that lesson about you the hard way."
Y/n sighed despondently again.
"I'm sorry." Charlie hummed, patting Y/n's knee comfortingly, "I know it was making you really happy."
"It's silly." they shook their head, "It's just nail polish."
"Yeah but, it clearly brought you a lot of joy." Charlie insisted, "What if I ask Nifty to keep an eye out for it around the hotel?"
Alastor almost let the shadows hiding him from the group in the corner of the room dissolve in shock. He hadn't expected that. He had really thought everyone would just let it go. Yes, he knew Y/n would probably be upset about it for a few days but, that just gave him all the more of an excuse to be near them, to comfort them.
"Really Charlie?" Y/n brightened immediately, "You'd do that for me?"
"Of course! I mean, I'm not making any promises but, you know."
Y/n pulled themselves from the couch, throwing their arms around Charlie's neck.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"It's just a nail polish." Vaggie chuckled, watching the interaction warmly.
Y/n let go of Charlie, who shrugged back at her girlfriend.
"It makes them happy."
Two weeks had gone by with no sign of the bottle of nail polish. Y/n still went to the stores every few days, checking for the color, but had yet to have any luck. Nifty too had come up empty handed.
Alastor was very pleased with himself. The trick of using his shadows to empty every store in the surrounding area of the color before Y/n went shopping was something he was particularly proud of.
Of course, all along, he knew where the missing item was. It was in the top drawer of his night table on the right hand side of his bed. Nifty only went in to clean his room maybe once a month or so and she knew better than to snoop. It was all going off without a hitch, even the comforting aspect. Alastor had had the absolute pleasure and honor of showing up at just the right place, at just the right time (imagine that), so as to be included with Angel when Y/n had the bright idea to see if she could find any other matching colors between her vast collection of lipsticks and lipglosses and even larger collection of nail polish. He wasn't sure how their hands could sustain that much acetone, or their skin that much makeup remover, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.
Alastor was in his studio, fixing one of the control panels, his mind filled with spinning memories of the past couple days (Y/n had even hugged him! The feeling of the cushion of their waist against his arms, their stomach, was not one he would soon forget), when he heard a knock at the door. He straightened up, eyeing it suspiciously.
The guests of the Hazbin Hotel, as well as its staff, knew better than to disturb him while he was at work. It's owners, on the other hand, were much more foolhardy. He ran a hand over his hair, straightening it a bit so as to make himself presentable, and called for the knocker to enter.
The door creaked as it swung open, just like Alastor wanted it to. A creaky door was a good thing, it made sure most people couldn't sneak up on him when he was at his most vulnerable, most distracted.
"You'll want to grease that." Y/n hummed as they stepped into the dingy space, "I think we have some WD40 in the basement, if you want me to bring it up for you."
They had never come to visit him up here before, never dared even come near the rotting wooden door. Alastor walked forward, shutting the door behind Y/n now that they were fully in the room. He was close enough to feel their breath on his skin as he smiled down at them.
"No need, my dear, although, I do appreciate the offer."
A silence fell between the pair as Y/n took a few steps further into the room, their eyes running across every surface available before them. Alastor noticed their hands were clasped behind their back. It wasn't an unusual position for them but, something seemed different about it this time.
"What can I help you with?" he cordially asked and Y/n turned to face him.
"Well... I... um..." they locked eyes with Alastor, finding their words at last, "Nifty found something today. While she was cleaning."
Alastor was glad Y/n's demon form was not all that powerful in this moment. If it was, they would have heard his heartbeat spike. His voice, his demeanor, even his expression were easy to control but his heart? Not so much.
"Oh?"
"Yeah... I..." Y/n trailed off.
With a sigh, they brought their hands forward, opening them to reveal the source of Alastor's anxiety. Nestled there, in the softness of their palm, was the nail polish.
"She found it! Congratulations, my dear. You must be thrilled."
"Yeah." Y/n replied uncertainly, looking away.
Alastor knew why they were so uncomfortable, but his hope was stronger. There was an uncanny sense of optimism in him, one that was unfounded and unfamiliar. It drove him to pry, to see how much they really knew. For all Alastor knew, there could be something else entirely going on.
"Where was it?"
"I..." Y/n looked back at him once again, "That's the problem, Alastor. Nifty said... well, she said she found it in your room."
"In my room?" Alastor repeated, feigning confusion, a hand to his chest in mock surprise.
Y/n nodded.
"In your night table drawer."
They must have known him better than he thought, have seen the flash of sudden anger in his eyes or something like that, maybe he had tense his body. Whatever had ticked them off, they continued.
"She didn't open it. Nift said it was open and went to close it and just... spotted it in there so don't get mad at her, she didn't do anything wrong."
Alastor stood in silence, watching Y/n carefully.
"I just... Look, I'm not mad, I am just confused. Why was it in your room, did you take it from me?"
A shock of nerves fluttered in Alastor's stomach. The heat rushed to his cheeks and he looked away, a hand flying instinctually to his collar and tugging at it just the slightest bit, as if the room was too hot. It was all the answer Y/n needed.
"Why?"
Alastor turned back to Y/n and nearly stumbled back a few steps when he realized how much closer they had brought themselves to him. Nearly every other time, he was the one to bridge the distance, to step into their personal space. His breath caught in his throat, a sort of thrill flooding his mind.
"I... I..."
He had stuttered. Alastor didn't stutter. He had never stuttered, not even when he was alive.
"You..?" Y/n prompted, leaning forward slightly.
His mind was reeling. He couldn't tell if that was their goal, secretly, if they had finally realized the effect they had on him and begun to use it to their advantage. Alastor looked away again.
"It was..."
"You knew it was my favorite. Why did you take it?"
Fuck.
They were upset, maybe even angry. Alastor had seen them mad before but it had never been directed towards him. Normally, he would relish in the wrath of another but Y/n's wrath? Fuck. He realized right then and there, he would rather die.
"Husk." he admitted at last, his hands now fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, his face flushed.
Alastor dared a glance at Y/n. Their brow was furrowed.
"Husk?"
"Yeah. Husk."
"I... why Husk? Did he dare you? Did he... I... what?"
Whatever feelings they had previously held had been replaced by pure confusion. Alastor could handle confusion. The situation at large was still unwelcome and rather untenable but, at least there was the confusion.
"He..." Alastor cleared his throat, brave enough to meet their eyes again at last, "He noticed."
"Noticed.... oh."
"Yeah."
They fell silent. This wasn't a thing Alastor had felt since he was very young. There was a wild animal in his chest. In this moment, he didn't just look like a deer, he was one and Y/n was the hunter with their gun trained on the spot between his eyes.
"It wa-"
"Did you also take it off the shelves all over the neighborhood?"
They had always been smart, smarter than he gave them credit for. Alastor grimaced, nodding slowly.
"Alastor, why did it bother you so much? Is it illegal to match my nails to my lips? Does it go against your... your weird ass deontological code?"
"No, it's just... it was... fuck!"
Y/n had never heard him curse before. A hand flew to Alastor's head, he took a deep breath.
"Alastor, I-"
"It was for me, okay? I... I didn't want anyone else noticing. It was just for me."
Y/n looked somehow even more confused as he lowered his hand once again. The releif that had accompanied the admission was greatly outweighed by his anxiety as he waited for their response.
"But Angel noticed too? Before Husk?"
"That's different." Alastor sighed, "He... You... I..."
"Alastor, what's going on?"
There was concern now, lacing their voice in its gentle vines. It almost made everything worse.
"I like you, okay!? There. Are you happy now!?"
He didn't know why he was yelling. Y/n's eyes went wide.
"You... like me? Like, like like me?"
He glared at them and they put their hands up in surrender.
"Just trying to clarify the situation!"
Alastor rolled his eyes, crossing his arms protectively over his chest.
"Yes. I... like like you or... whatever nonsense you just said. Are you happy now?"
It was a stand off, each training a metaphorical pistol at the other. Y/n was the one to finally break.
"Yes." they curtly replied, crossing their arms to mirror his position, "I'll... I'll let you get back to work now."
Someone had driven a nail right through Alastor's chest and into his heart. He watched their retreating form as they opened the door and slipped out into the hallway. Just as it was about to fall shut, they miraculously stuck a foot between the closing door and its frame, peeking their head back into the room.
"Just so you know: if you asked me out on a date," they began, their eyes flicking up to his from where they had previously been fixed on the floor, "I'd say yes."
-----
A/N Ant is a pretty common nickname for Anthony in NYC (where I am from and where I'm pretty sure Angel is supposed to be from). Yes, I will be using it in another fic I am working on too (its part two of Unexpected (Vox x Reader). Also,, deontology is when you have a strict set of ethical rules/maxims you stick by no matter what (Kant is a deontologist).
TAGS:
@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog
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im-sleepdeprived · 22 days
Note
Can you write something about co-workers to friends to lovers?
fix you up
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pairing: peter parker x reader
a/n: i won’t lie to y’all idk how i feel abt this one. its cute dgmw but i hope you guys like it !!! ive had this request for an EMBARRASSINGLY long time, anon if you’re upset, i totally understand
warnings: mentions of injuries, burns, rude customers, bandaging some wounds n stuff, fluff and pining !!! (disclaimer: I’ve never been a barista so forgive me if this is a lil off)
masterlist, requests are open !!
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Working in a rustic-vintage-corner-campus-cafe was definitely not how you saw your college years going. Your teen self would’ve killed to work at a place like this but when you grew up, you realized just how different the workload is between a high school student and a uni one such as yourself. 
You weren’t complaining of course. The pay was adequate, your manager was a simple old lady who never had much to say other than making sure all the equipment was clean, you got along with your coworkers pretty well for the most part and the customers were tolerable. 
But every once in a while, you’d get an entitled shithead who seemed to make it their life’s mission to ruin someone else’s day. And the problem with working a social job such as you did, is that you were an easy target. 
It started off as a fairly simple day, you clocked in and put on your apron ready to start your shift for the day. You preferred late morning shifts, leaving afternoons for classes (and the rouge 8am lecture every now and then) and nights for going out or studying. 
“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you're here,” Your co-worker, Vanessa, exclaimed.
Vanessa was a few years older than you. She actually wasn’t a student, she’d given college a try and it wasn’t her thing. Apparently, all it did was “try to undermine unstoppable greatness.” She was chatty, but you actually liked that about her. She could keep up a conversation with a statue. When you first started off here she’d been the one to show you the ropes and ever since then, you’d had a specific bond with her that you couldn’t really put a name to.
You gave her a small smile, “Yeah well, I do prefer to show up when promised. Especially when my paycheck depends on it,” you let out a small laugh.
“Yes! See, that's what I love about you,” she made a disgusted face, “Unlike Peter. Honestly, I don't understand how he hasn’t been fired yet! He shows up at least half an hour late to every shift yet Miss Hannigan still keeps him around.”
“Oh,” you stuttered, raising your hands a little in defense, “I didn't mean it as a jab at Peter, I swear.”
She tossed a curled blonde lock of hair over her shoulders while waving her other hand in dismissal, “Honey, don’t worry about it. I know you would never, you’re far too sweet for that. But I wouldn’t blame you if you did, you know, having to work more than half your shift alone? I swear if Bernard did that to me,” she made a big show of gesturing to herself, "I would not deal with it.”
While what she was saying wasn’t necessarily wrong, it didn’t feel right talking about Peter like that. Sure, he was late most of the time, leaving you to do most of the work while you waited for him to show up (somehow when he started working you two got the same shift together and it’s just been that way ever since) and while you, also, normally wouldn’t put up with this, there was something different about Peter. You never felt like he was taking advantage of you, and purposefully made you pick up extra slack. It was quite the opposite actually, he always apologized profusely and never slacked when he was on the clock. He always seemed so rushed and out of breath, you were pretty sure the poor boy just needed to learn how to manage time better. Plus, he always took it upon himself to unpack the orders because of all the heavy lifting required (you couldn’t tell just by looking at him, with all the sweaters he wore, but man was he ripped.)
“He’s actually really sweet.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re so keen on defending Peter. You two barely spoke, outside of work of course, and you don’t know much about him. But something inside you didn’t like anyone assuming anything bad about him. 
“Yea, well, he’d be a ton sweeter if he clocked in on time,” she laughed as she untied her apron, getting ready to leave. You faked a laugh as well, not wanting the conversation to progress any further. 
“Alrighty, well,” she heaved a breath, “I'm off, have a good rest of your day Y/N.”
You smiled once again and sent a wave her way before settling down in front of the register. It was slow today, not many people in the shop. A fellow student you only recognized from work sat in a corner booth with their headphones locked in and was working on what seemed to be some kind of essay. 
There was an older woman, however, looking incredibly irritated at the table closest to you. You’d never seen her before but that wasn’t too strange. It was a near-campus cafe, after all, lots of people passing through. She looked to be typing on her phone until, suddenly, she shut it off and made direct eye contact with you. 
If looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead behind the counter, which wouldn’t be all that ideal considering you couldn’t remember the last time anyone mopped that side of the store. 
She stood up and walked towards you and you already dreaded the conversation to come.
“I have an order,” she spit out, as if she were disgusted to even be talking to you at the moment. 
No greeting or anything, wow. Someone wasn’t raised right. 
Nonetheless, you put on your well-rehearsed customer service smile and gave in. “Sure, I’d be happy to help with that. Can you just give me the order?”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to, I called in and placed it and it should be ready by now. I'm going to be late!”
You froze for a moment, not quite sure what to do, “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, but I just got here and I haven’t heard anything,” you glance at the little whiteboard kept on the counter for these exact situations only to find it empty, “and I don’t see anything here about a phone-placed order. Are you sure you have the right store?”
Her face was so red and steam was practically blowing out of her ears, “Of course, I have the right store! Do you think I'm stupid or something?”
“No! Of course not, I'm so sorry,” you start to blabber off, not wanting to make her any angrier than she already was, “I’ll get things ready for you right away ma’am.”
You turned around and tried to make yourself not freak out as badly as you wanted to. It was so humiliating getting yelled at like this in public! And yeah, maybe if you had such a problem with unpleasant interactions like this, you shouldn't have taken a social job such as this one, but honestly, you thought people would have enough manners not to act up like this. Apparently not. 
It slipped your mind for a moment because of how scrambled you got when the lady flipped her lid, but Vanessa has been known to do this, forget to write down orders and leave you to fend for yourself (quite literally since your coworker was never really around) and you’re pretty sure that’s what happened here. Other customers were usually more understanding than this woman bordering on Kathy-Bates-movie-character-insanity over a drink order. 
You reached into your back pocket, deciding you’d try to send her a hurried text about any phone calls she might remember. That just seemed to anger your customer more.
“Excuse me?! I'm sitting here waiting for my order and you're too busy chatting away on your phone?”
You lose yourself for a moment and you can’t feel your face anymore. 
“I am so sorry ma’am,” you repeat, which seems to be your mantra since you started working today, “I was just checking to see if-,”
“I don't care what you were checking, or what you need to see! Give me what I paid for,” her hand started smacking against the counter loud enough for the only other person in the store to look up, broken from their reverie. They merely shot you an apologetic look before getting back to their work, leaving you to fend for yourself.
“You have terrible customer service, honestly. I come here every Tuesday with my book club, but never again. If I don’t get exactly what I asked for in the next five minutes, I'm calling your boss and not leaving until I'm sure you’re fired.” 
You shake your head, “There’s no need to do that ma’am, I'll get everything ready for you.”
You turned around once again, this time, heading towards the cappuccino machine. You’re not sure why you said that considering you have no clue what ‘everything’ is that has to get ready. 
In all honesty, there’s a low chance that a suburban-white-soccer-mom type would have any real effect on your employment. Miss Hannigan would surely not fire you just because some order forgot to be written down and some customer got pissed. Right?
But you really didn’t want to find out. 
So, you started up the machine and turned to grab a cup. Today, apparently, was just doomed from the start. As you turned to grab one of the cups placed on the shelf over the machine, your hand hit the button that turned on the steam wand. Which was aimed directly at your other hand. 
You bit down the yelp that threatened to escape and jumped back, the back of your hand now searing with pain. Instinctively, your other hand came to cup your injured one, which only made it worse. You fought back tears as you moved to turn the steam back off. 
Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to try to get your mind working again. “Hello?!” Of course. You turned your head and gave her the fakest smile you’ve ever mustered in your whole life. “One minute ma’am.”
You could hear her going off about how she doesn’t have a minute to spare, but you ignored her, trying to think of what the hell you could give her to just get her out of your face. You’d have to guess her order since I wasn’t actually taken. You’d started playing a game with yourself since you worked here, guessing people's drink orders, and you’d say you’ve gotten pretty good. 
You peeked a look back at her. You’d had customers around her age come in before and order, for the most part, the same thing. A plain cappuccino. Seemed like a safe bet.
Swallowing down the pain as best you could, you approached the machine again. This time, taking out the portafilter. It must’ve not been put in correctly because it clattered to the ground, coffee grinds falling around the floor. 
You wanted to cry. Your hand hurt like hell, there was a new mess to deal with, and that lady hadn’t stopped complaining since you stepped in. 
Frozen, you began to panic a little, breaths coming out sporadically. You’d leave the sweeping for later, but you had to clean the filter so you could use it because it was the only one. And the slightest brush of air made your hand burn even more. You had no clue how to go about this. Maybe if you-
Like an angel, Peter rushed in through the side door. Tying his apron around his waist, he looked towards you. Your hand flew up to your mouth at his perfect timing and you saw his expression grow more concerned. 
He rushed towards you. “What happened?” And for a second, you forget everything that was stressing you out just a few moments before. He grabbed your hand so gently, you forgot every ounce of pain. 
“I cannot believe this!” She wasn’t giving up and you shut your eyes in frustration, turning to reply to her again. But before you can open your mouth, Peter steps in. “Hold on, can’t you clearly see she’s hurt?”
She scoffed and crossed her arms, “That’s her fault. If she knew how to do her job, it wouldn’t have happened.”
You could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His expression hardened and his mouth opened to shoot something back at her, but this time, you cut him off. You placed your non-injured hand on his shoulder and gave him a look. 
He stared at you for a few seconds before finally giving in, blowing out some air in a frustrated huff. “Go wait for me inside,” he told you, nodding his head toward the employees-only backroom. 
“What?” You asked confused. You didn’t wanna leave him alone. 
“You’re not working right now, there’s no way I’m letting you. I’ll deal with her. Go, I’ll be right there,” he said, shoving you away gently.
Once you heard that he’d be following you, you were more willing. You walked through the door and took a seat at the table usually used for meal breaks. The ‘break room’ was a small room positioned in the back of the store. You can’t remember what this place used to be (a diner maybe?) but this specific room was used as an office, but Miss Hannigan claimed she had no use for an office so it was used for employee breaks. 
Every ounce of you was grateful for Peter’s Superman moment back there. He came in today earlier than usual and he’d totally saved your ass. You were going to make sure to tell him. 
You weren’t waiting long before the door opened again and Peter walked in, holding a backpack you hadn’t seen on him before. In his other hand, he held a drink. He placed the drink on the table before he grabbed one of the chairs, bringing it close to yours, and you turned your body to face him. 
He picked up your hand again, just as gently as before. “Alright,” he let out a breath of relief, “it’s not as bad as I thought, but, it’s still gonna take a while to heal. Wait,” he leaned over, unzipping his bag and taking supplies out while you just stared at him.
“I thought you majored in biochemistry.” You blurted out. Your face heated up a little when he looked at you curiously.
“I- I saw your textbooks once when you left your bag open. And I’ve seen you around campus, near the science-y buildings…and stuff.” You shrugged and he chuckled. 
“I do,” he nodded, “any medical stuff is self-taught. I get into a lot of…accidents.”
“Oh.” You nodded at him. What kind of accidents would he get into? You’d never seen him hurt, but what did you know. 
“I take it you don’t major in anything science-y,” he said, grinning at you.
You shook your head, “No, I don’t. But I have a chemistry class I have to take for credit. Which makes no sense because chemistry has nothing to do with what I want to learn.”
He laughed and set his bag back down, everything he needed was now laid out on the table. “Okay,” he picked up a white tube with red lettering on it. “This is gonna help with pain and scarring. I’m going to spread some of this, then wrap it up for you.” You looked at the table and saw he’d also taken out some white gauze. What kind of ‘accidents’ did he get into?
You nodded, at a complete loss for words. You had no idea Peter knew so much about injuries and you were so thankful he was helping you out. You didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t close either.
He applied a small amount to the back of your hand, asking you constantly if you were okay as he rubbed it on softly. Honestly, even if it did hurt, you wouldn’t have the heart to tell him.
He finished up with the cream and moved onto the gauze, expertly wrapping it up to lightly cover your wound. When he was finished with that, he carefully tied it off, making sure not to tie it too tight.
“There,” he leaned back and smiled at you, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “All fixed up.”
 “Thank you, Peter, really.” You reluctantly pulled your hand back into your lap, missing the warmth of his fingers wrapped around it.
“You don’t need to thank me Y/N, it’s the least I could do. I’m just glad I got here earlier than usual.”
You nodded and looked down. “Well thanks anyway, you saved my ass back there. Seriously, I have no idea what’s wrong with me today but I kept fucking everything up.”
“Hey,” he said softly, making you look up and meet his gaze. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Okay? You made a few mistakes, but that's not your fault. She shouldn’t have been treating you like that, especially when you’d hurt yourself.” He looked away and scoffed as he remembered the terrible customer that had ruined your morning. You would’ve felt extremely touched by his care if it weren’t for his next words.
“All that for a plain fucking cappuccino.” He mumbled.
“A plain cappuccino? Really?” You asked excitedly, forgetting about everything, and grinning at him wildly. 
“Um, yeah…why?” He asked you, confusion was written all over his face, but he couldn’t help his own smile slightly growing when he noticed your enthusiasm.
“Nothing,” you shook your head quickly, smile never fading, “I just…well, I play this game with myself where I guess people's drink orders. And I think I’m getting pretty good because that’s exactly what I was going to make her before you walked in.”
He laughed out loud and you joined in. “What’s my order?” He asked. 
You paused for a moment. “A caramel macchiato with extra caramel.”
He looked at you for a bit, “Close,” he admitted. “It used to be.”
“So are you gonna tell me what it is now?”
Shaking his head, he leaned over the table and dragged the drink he’d brought in earlier in front of you. “Here,” he changed the subject, “I made you this.”
You’d completely forgotten about it, and when you took a closer look, you realized it was your coffee order. 
Your mouth fell open, “How’d you know?”
He just shrugged, smiling slightly. He knew it was your favorite, but the confirmation was still nice. “I've seen you make it for yourself. Educated guess.”
“Oh my god,” you said, voice soft. It was a simple thing really, you had one most days at the end of your shift. But the fact that he’d noticed… It just meant a lot. “Thank you so much, Peter.”
He just waved you off, his smile growing when he noticed your reaction to the drink. He couldn’t believe he got a chance to speak to you. Truly speak to you. He was always too awkward or embarrassed or trying to avoid embarrassment. But now, while he didn’t like the circumstances that led you both here, he was actually talking to you. And it was nice.
“So,” he started, not wanting this to end just yet, “you said you’ve got a chemistry class?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, picking up your drink and taking a sip. “The one with Professor Hall. I actually have a class after this shift. I totally suck though, and he hates me. I just don’t get it, and he doesn’t explain it well!”
Peter nodded, completely understanding what you meant. It was a tough subject to begin with, and he knew not everyone was as into science as he was, add onto that a teacher who doesn’t really teach, it’s a recipe for disaster. 
“I actually had that class. Last year. I can help you, sometimes. If you’d like me to, that is!” He rushed out. Great, he thought, now I’m getting awkward. 
You looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really? Do you mean that?”
“Of course. I think I’ve still got my notes too, if you want ‘em.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn’t saving your ass again. 
“Oh my god Peter,” you placed your non-injured hand on his knee, not noticing the way his body stiffened and he gulped. “That would help so much. There’s a huge exam coming up, and it's a huge part of my grade so I have to pass. I started cramming earlier but—”
“I’ll help,” he reassured you, “I enjoy science anyway, so it’ll be fun for me.”
“Thank you,” you repeated. Staring at him so close, you realized you’d never noticed how handsome he was. Sure there were times you thought he was cute, from afar, but now…you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, the way one of his eyebrows was slightly curlier than the other, unwilling to sit straight. You couldn’t help but stare-
“Oh my god,” you repeated, except this time, you had remembered something. “If we’re both in here, who’s outside?”
“What? Oh, um,” he scratched the back of his neck, still reeling from having you so close to him. “Freddy’s out there?”
“Freddy?” You asked confused. 
He nodded. “The guy writing on his laptop, he’s friends with my roommate, throws the craziest parties. He’s chill, I told him to keep an eye out if someone else walks in. But it’s been slow, so I think we’re good.”
“Oh, okay.” You said, standing up. “We should probably still go though.”
He stood up beside you, frowning. “I don’t think you should work with your hand hurt. I don’t want you accidentally making it worse.”
Your heart warmed at his concern. “That's really sweet Peter, but I’ll be fine. I don’t know what happened before, I never do stuff like that, even accidentally.”
He still didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you just go home? I can take it for today.”
You shook your head quickly, “I’m not leaving. I have a class later and it would just be a waste of time going back and forth anyway.”
You walked towards the door, opened it, and exited before he had a chance to argue anymore. You stepped behind the counter while Peter rushed out behind you. You watched Freddy give him a thumbs up and Peter nodded at him before he followed right after you. 
“Are you sure you should go to class today? I can walk you home so you can take the day off,” he offered, and he looked so genuine you almost accepted. 
“Peter,” you laughed and he decided no matter what your response was, it wouldn’t matter because hearing you say his name like that was enough. “I’ll be fine, I didn’t break both my legs, it's just a small burn.”
He stared at you for a bit as you smiled at him, trying to get him to ease up. “Fine,” he gave in reluctantly. “But no going towards the cappuccino machine,” he waved a finger at you, “or the ovens. Or anything hot!”
“Fine,” you shot back, grinning wide and he couldn’t help but return it.
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The rest of the morning had gone by easily and you thought maybe you didn’t have totally shit luck. Peter was way more fun than you ever thought he’d be and you wondered why you didn’t start talking to each other sooner. 
It used to be silently working together but after those few moments in the break room, you guys were laughing your whole shift. He meant what he said, and he kept you away from anything that produced heat (which you told him was an insane boundary to set in a cafe) so you had extra time to make quips here and there.
You started playing your order-guessing game with him, teaching him certain traits that gave someone away:
“Side part, beanie, and a crossbody? Oh, he’s getting a tall, dark, americano for sure.”
“She’s getting tea. No coffee, just tea. Maybe with a little lemon wedge.”
And he started to get the hang of it. 
“She looks like she drinks matchas right?” He said to you when a girl around your age walked in. He’d been right and you both laughed about it afterwards. 
When your work shift ended, you were actually upset. 
“I’ve got a class to get to,” you told him, lifting your bag onto your shoulder. You’d both cleaned up and gotten yourselves ready, now standing in front of the door. Something in you didn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying your time together far too much to end it so soon. 
“Yeah…” he trailed off, you waited for him to continue but he hesitated. 
“What is it?” You crossed your arms and smiled slightly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “I just…well, I was just wondering—if it's okay with you of course!” He rushed out, quickly bringing his hands up. “That I could walk you to class?”
You laughed, “I’d love that Pete, thank you.” You turned to open the door to let you both out but he quickly moved forward, holding it open for you and motioning for you to move forward. 
Looking back at him, you smiled and noticed his cheeks were a little red. How had you never noticed how adorable he was?
The walk back to campus wasn’t long but you learned a lot. He told you where he went to high school, his friends he still kept in touch with, his Aunt May, some funny moments from parties he’d been forced to attend by his roommate, and you laughed together.
You told him about the book you were currently reading, your life back home and your family, and why you chose to go to this college. He went along with your jokes, which made it all the more better for you. “I mean if you think about it,” you'd said, “it is so much easier to romanticize your life  when your school campus is as pretty as this one, and that’s real motivation!”
The conversation flowed naturally between you two and it felt like you’d been friends for ages. He dropped you off outside of your class building with the promise of picking you up afterward so you two could study together. 
“So I’ll be back here in an hour right,” he asked. 
“Right,” you smiled at him. “And thanks again Pete, for everything.” You held up your bandaged hand, shaking it a little before setting it back down. 
He shook his head quickly, “Don’t thank me for that. Really.”
You stared at him with a warm expression. “Bye Peter,” you waved as you turned to walk into your class.
“Bye Y/N,” he returned. He watched you walk through the doors, shooting him one last smile before you disappeared from view, before blowing out a breath of air. 
He’d finally gotten a chance to talk to the girl he’d been crushing on for months, and he got to walk her to class! And they were meeting up afterward. After working so close to you and never having the guts to initiate a conversation, he’d settled for just admiring you from afar. But after today, there was nothing that could keep him away. 
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You were not having a good day. 
You’d just found out that your chemistry exam was being bumped up to two days from now. Even with the early studying you’d done before, there was no way you could catch up with everything that fast. You were so overwhelmed you had completely forgotten Peter was waiting for you outside. 
You walked out, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and you practically jumped out of your skin when someone placed a hand on your shoulder. 
“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft yet full of concern. Peter. “It's just me. What happened?”
The second he saw you walk out, he could tell something was off. He could literally sense the anxiety rolling off of you in waves. He had waited for you to look up and stop when you saw him, but you were just about to walk past him before he stopped you. Now, you were looking at him with distress coating every feature on your face. Your brows were pinched, your lip red from biting it, and your eyes wide and distant like you couldn’t even see him and he was standing right in front of you. Something had gone wrong and he wanted nothing more than to fix it. 
“What is it? What’s wrong? He asked frantically. 
“Oh my god,” you whispered, hands flying up to the sides of your head and gripping your hair. You weren’t looking at him anymore, “Oh my god.”
“Ok Y/N,” he said nervously, “you’re starting to scare me.”
“Two days Peter!” You looked at him wildly. “Two days! I can’t go over everything in two days, is he fucking insane? I didn’t even know he could do something like that, I mean, can he do something like that? I feel like that shouldn’t be allowed it should—”
You cut yourself off and started pacing back and forth in front of him. “Oh my god, I’m gonna bomb this. And if I fail, it’ll bring my whole grade down! I can’t afford that I—”
“Hey,” he repeated, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder again. “I said I’m gonna help you, and I meant it. So we’re gonna get through this together, even if we have to stay up all night.”
You stared at him, trying to wonder what you’d done in your life to deserve such an angel. 
You shook your head quickly, “I really appreciate that Peter, but I’m serious. There’s no way I can learn everything I need to know that fast.”
You tried to smile at him but it didn’t reach your eyes. 
He grinned, his expression the total opposite of yours. “Well, you’ve clearly never studied with me, so don’t sound too sure yet.”
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Another thing you’d come to realize was just how smart Peter was. 
You really should’ve known when he told you he’d taken that advanced chemistry class a year ago. And passed. 
Looking through his notes, you could see his attention to detail. He really wasn’t a slacker in the classroom because everything was clearly laid out here. 
You’d spent that night going over everything and you’d actually started to feel hopeful about it. Peter was a way better teacher than Professor Hall, and it didn’t hurt that he was so cute. He was understanding with everything and was willing to go over any part for as long as it took for you to fully grasp it. 
At the end of the night, he’d undone the wrappings around your hand, reapplied the cream for you, and wrapped it up again.
“It’s doing okay,” he reassured you. “Like I said, it’s gonna take a while, but if it starts hurting or anything, take some medicine. Then find me.”
You were sure you’d just melted into his hands at that moment.
The next day, you couldn’t wait to get through everything and see him again, even if you were going to be talking about chemistry. 
You weren’t scheduled to work at the cafe today, so you’d only get to meet up after both of your classes. 
Lectures were a blur, nothing really catching your attention and you spent most of the time with your phone tucked in your hand texting back and forth with Peter, barely concealing your laughter when he sent you memes. 
It was like that all day, until, finally, you made your way over to his small apartment he shared with one of his friends. 
its very quaint 🤌
(totally NOT what we say to make ourselves feel better about this shoebox)
He’d told you over text, making you laugh out loud as you made your way over there. 
dw🫡 I was one of those kids who used to live in their play tents and hid in random corners and spaces
im totally ready for this
ok but be warned, we do not have a pet!!! they are not allowed per our lease!!! ignore the cat when you come in!!! tell no one!!!
what cat ??
good girl ;)
Your face flushed as you made your way up the steps to his door. You knocked three times and barely had to wait a second before Peter stood before you, holding the door open. 
“Hi,” he said, smiling at you. 
“Hi,” you grinned back. You heard a small ‘meow’ come from behind him and he quickly held up a finger to his lips. You covered your mouth, stifling a laugh as you nodded at him. 
“Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way to lead you through the door. You stepped in and kicked off your shoes before looking around. It was plain, but that was to be expected really. 
There was a large poster hanging next to their TV, however, that caught your eye. “Big fan?” You asked him, shoving your thumb in the direction of the Star Wars poster. 
He shrugged nonchalantly, “Kind of.”
“Oh. Well, I was just asking because I love those movies. My little brother used to watch them and I got really into it.”
“Oh. I mean—I don’t know what I was saying before I love them too.” He rushed out, making you giggle.
He stayed staring at you for a bit, his eyes rounding out and his mouth gaping a little bit. 
You gave him a small smile, “Okay, well we should-” You let out a small yelp, hands flying to your mouth as you jumped back. 
The living room was small. The only things occupying it were the TV mounted to the wall, and in front of it, was a sofa. And on the sofa, was an unconscious body that you hadn’t noticed until it let out a low groan. You really weren’t sure how you missed it, there wasn’t much else to look at, but they had just been so still. 
Heart beating erratically, you turned towards Peter again, who was looking at you with all the amusement in the world written all over his face. “Was he always there,” you whispered, eyes wide.
He opened his arms, “Well, angel, I really don’t know. Did you see anyone come in?”
“Oh shut up,” you grumbled. “He looks familiar…is that..”
“Freddy.” He finished for you. Right. The dude from the cafe. 
“He crashes here sometimes.” He added.
You nodded. “Alright.”
“Shall we?” He opened a door beside him and looked at you. 
“Right. Yeah, of course.” You walked past him and into his room. You stopped after you entered, taking a moment to look around. His room was simple, with just his bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser perched next to another door you assumed was his closet. 
What really caught your attention, however, were the photos scattered all over the walls. The room was practically engulfed in Peter Parker’s memories, and you really liked it. Without thinking, you approached one wall, walking through them and taking each one in. 
There were some with large groups of people, those looked like school trips. Most of the photos were of the same two people, and based on what he’d told you, you assumed those were his friends. Ned and MJ. 
A lot of the photos contained an older woman, who looked stunning. That had to be his Aunt May. You were shocked by how many photos he had with the Tony Stark. He’d told you he had an internship at Stark Industries, but really, you sorta thought he just went on coffee runs all day. 
And then, you saw a couple shots of Spider-Man. It wasn’t unusual, you knew a lot of people snapped photos of the masked hero when they spotted him around the city. What was unusual, was the quality of the photos. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen such clear photos of him, even on the news, as he was always swinging and in motion. In these, Peter seemed to have caught him at just the right time. You wondered how long it took him to capture the photos.
“Big fan?” You smirked over at him from your spot by one of the Spider-Man photos as you repeated your words from earlier. 
Peter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, content with watching go over the details of his life. He felt a little naked, like he was bared out in front of you. But…it felt good too. He liked knowing you were learning new things about him, and curious to know more. It filled him with an anxious sort of giddiness.
“You first,” he said slyly.
Laughing, you said, “Well, I don’t see how anyone can hate on the guy. He literally runs around saving lives”
He laughed as he approached you, standing by your side. You’d be surprised. “True I guess.”
“We should get to studying,” you said, breezing past him, your hand brushing his bicep as you did. He sucked in a breath, his entire body feeling electrocuted after that one touch. He wondered how you seemed so normal, laying out your books and papers on the floor beside his bed. 
This was gonna be a long night. 
He cleared his throat and moved to sit across from you, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as he felt. 
After a few moments of him watching you get settled, you heard him start laughing. Looking up you asked, “What’s so funny?”
That only made him laugh harder. “Just thinking about how scared you got before. Did you really not see him?”
You felt your face go hot. “I didn’t! I had no clue he was there, and next thing I know he’s making lawn mower nosies!”
Peter was red in the face now. “The way you flew back,” he said between fits of laughter, “I thought you’d give yourself whiplash.”
“Shut up,” you grumbled at him, picking up one of your pens and throwing it at him. It bounced off without him even flinching. 
You looked down, avoiding his gaze by busying yourself with your papers. 
“Okay I’m ready to be serious now,” he said. The laughter was gone but amusement twinkled in his voice. 
“Great! Welcome back Pete, now hand me that pen, I’m gonna need it.”
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Two hours later, you were both sprawled across the floor tossing Chess-Its at one another. 
“Come on!” You threw your arms up in defeat when you threw another cracker at him just for him to catch it again. 
Peter chuckled, “Sorry angel, I’ve just got killer reflexes.”
“Alright whatever,” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, throw some at me.”
You opened your mouth, ready to finally win one round of this nonsense…just for a Cheez-It to hit your cheek and fall to the ground with the rest of your tries. 
Peter laughed while you sat up, reached to grab the box of crackers, and poured some into your hand before putting it back down. 
“Okay, I’m done. I actually want to eat them now.” You said, munching on a cracker and sitting against the side of his bed. 
“Oh come on, don’t be a quitter Y/N/N,” he grinned, leaning over and pinching your cheek. 
You swatted his hand away with your empty one. “M’not.”
He smiled at you before sitting up. “Hit me,” he said, opening his mouth and pointing at it. 
You grabbed a Cheez-It from the palm of your hand and made a big show of trying to get your aim right. Squinting one eye, you stared at him, moving your hand back and forth before tossing it slightly more to the right. On purpose. 
That didn’t stop him from leaning over and catching it in his mouth. 
“I don’t like this game,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. 
“Don’t act like I don’t know what you did,” he said back, munching on his Cheez-it. 
“Sue me,” you told him, brushing him off with a wave of your hand. 
He laughed before he settled down. “How’s your hand feeling by the way.” His voice was considerably softer now, making you smile softly at him. 
“It’s doing great, thank you again, Peter. I would’ve been totally fucked if it weren’t for you,” you told him honestly. 
He shook his head, “Don’t thank me at all Y/N. Hate seeing you hurt,” he mumbled, less to you and more to himself and he stayed staring at your wrapped-up hand. 
“Well don’t worry about that, it doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Yeah?” He looked at you suddenly, like he needed to know you meant it. 
“Yeah,” you nodded at him. 
“That’s good,” he breathed out and your heart squeezed at how much he seemed to care. 
“What's your plan? Y’know, for after school?” You didn’t want to leave just yet, even with your studying done. And you wanted to know more about him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken a certain liking to him lately. 
“Well after I get my degree, I’m going move up a little further in Stark Industries. I’m still undecided on grad school, I think I’ve got everything I need and I’m probably just gonna start saving up to pay off student loans instead of adding on them.”
You nodded at him, “So the Stark internship is going well? No offense, I sort of thought you were their coffee mule.” You grinned at him before popping a Cheez-It in your mouth. 
He scoffed, “No, I’m not. I mean, it did take a while to get them to take me seriously, but I got there!”
You laughed, “Well, very proud of you Pete. That’s super impressive.”
He grinned at you, his face heating up at your words. He wondered if you knew how much it affected him every time you called him Pete. Probably not, but he never wanted you to stop. 
You two stayed like that for another hour or so, time passing by without you noticing at all. You talked about your futures, where you say yourselves after school, and after that. Your admiration for him only grew as you got to know him more. You could talk to him all night and never get bored honestly, you-
Shit. 
A random notification lit up your phone, which lay beside you on the floor, making you take notice of the time. 
You sat up quickly, spitting out curses as you started gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag. 
Peter sat up as well, helping you get your things together but in a calmer manner than yourself. 
“Relax Y/N,” he said in a soothing voice. 
“Pete I can’t do it.” You turned to him suddenly, dropping everything in your hands. 
“Do what, angel?”
“The exam is tomorrow. I’m not ready! I’m gonna fail, and that one grade, that one stupid grade, is gonna hold me back and ruin everything-”
“Sweetheart look at me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip was warm and reassuring. “You are not going to fail. And I know this because I’ve spent the last few hours studying with you, and I saw how smart you are, and how quick you caught on. You’re gonna walk in there tomorrow and ace that test, I know you are!
“And if for some reason you don’t,” he continued, “you gave it your best. You tried your hardest and you learned something, which is all that matters in the end. So breathe, stop stressing, and let me walk you home.”
“All that talk as an excuse to ask to take me home?” You snorted, “Peter you shouldn’t have.” Despite your jokes, you took his advice and took a deep breath. He was right, you’d studied your hardest, both with and without his help. All you could do was take the exam and hope for the best now.
He laughed and stood up, holding out a hand once he saw you all packed and ready. “Caught me. So is that a yes?”
You took his hand and pulled yourself up but didn’t let go right away. “If I fail, do we have to stop hanging out? Y’know, with you being a science prodigy and all.”
He laughed again and placed both his hands on your shoulder, staring straight into your eyes. “Never.”
“Ok, well, just making sure. I wouldn’t wanna give you a bad rep in the science community or something-”
You were suddenly cut off from your babbling when he pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second, unsure what to do, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up and kiss him back. 
He pulled away after a few moments, “Done with the jokes?” His voice was soft and teasing.
“Uh huh,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. “But I think you might need to do that again, just to be sure.”
He chuckled murmuring something that sounded like ‘too cute’ but you couldn’t be bothered to hear when you felt his lips on yours again, this time, expecting them. 
You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and canting your head slightly for better access. He groaned, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other settling on your waist.
You might have pictured kissing him before, just maybe. But none of your daydreaming could’ve prepared you for the real thing. The way his bottom lip covered your top one, the soft breaths exchanged between the two of you, the way he pressed himself further into you when you tugged his hair a little harder. This definitely beat all of your daydreams. 
You could’ve stayed that way forever, and you probably would’ve if Peter hadn’t taken one for the team and pulled away first. 
Or tried to, at least. 
“We should-” kiss. 
“You-” kiss. 
“I need to walk,” kiss, “-you home angel.” He murmured against your lips.
“Okay,” you whispered back but you didn’t move to pull away, and he didn’t push you. The two of you stayed stuck, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, taking in the atmosphere of each other. 
“I should probably go now,” you said softly. Peter hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck your lips gently. 
“It’s getting late,” but your voice is more of a sigh. You don’t know what he’s laced his lips with but each kiss makes you weak in the knees and woozier than the last one.
“God, d’yknow I’ve had the biggest crush on you.” He said, completely disregarding your previous statement. 
That stops you. “What?” You asked him in disbelief. Peter had a crush on you? No way, you would’ve known. 
“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “don’t act so shocked. I was always a stuttering mess at work whenever you so much as looked at me.”
True. But you’d just thought he was a bit more on the shy side. 
“I’d seen you around campus before and I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and I still do, but I thought I had no shot in hell with you. And when I got the job at the cafe and saw I’d be working with you? I almost lost my fucking mind sweetheart.” You both laughed a little and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flamed up because of his words. Did he have any clue what he was doing to you right now?
“So I just sorta kept my distance, y’know? Admired you from afar ‘cause I was too scared you’d reject me. Sadly, it only took you nearly burning your hand off,” he gave you a look and you burst into giggles, him doing you and slightly pinching your waist, “for me to get over myself and actually keep up a conversation with you. But now I’ve got you in my room, kissing me.”
“Hmm,” you hummed, “lucky you.” You joked as leaned in to press another kiss to his lips. 
“Lucky me indeed,” he murmured before pulling you in even deeper. He dipped you, making you squeal into the kiss. Then he pulled you up, unable to keep the kiss going any longer with how hard he was grinning.
“Oh my god,” you said, laughing breathlessly. 
“A lot more where that came from,” he smirked at you. 
“You know,” you moved to pick up your bag, “for someone who was so scared to talk to me for so long, you sure found the confidence now.”
“What can I say? You make it easy. Once I started I couldn’t stop.” You smiled at him as he gently placed a hand on your arm leading you to the door. The living room was empty now, no one to be found on the couch or otherwise and you wondered where their cat had wandered off to.
You bent over to put on your shoes, Peter doing the same. He stepped forward and opened the door for you, letting you step out before following you and locking the door. 
As soon as he was done with that, you reached over and grabbed his hand. “Hey Petey?” You said lightly. Oh, he was going to melt. From now on, he only wanted you to call him that.
“Hm?”
“I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me.” 
He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah? Me too angel.”
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The next morning, you awoke in the brightest mood, considering you had a chemistry exam later that day. All you could think about was Peter. You were going to see him later at the cafe and you couldn’t wait. 
You leaned over in bed to pick up your phone. Speak of the devil. 
GOOD MORNINGGGGG❤️
hope you slept well angel, can’t wait to see you today. and you’re gonna totally ace that exam!🥰
seriously you’re going to kick chemistry’s butt
A huge smile bloomed on your face, almost hurting from how wide it was. Usually, you'd stay in bed for a while, scrolling through Instagram or just going through messages or something. Not today, you couldn’t wait to get to work. Maybe Peter was a good influence on you. 
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After getting ready for the day, you made your way to the cafe with a little bounce in your steps. The bell jingled above you as you opened the door and for the first time since you’d started working together, Peter was here before you. 
“Hey,” he smiled, holding up your usual drink order and waving it at you. 
“Hi Pete,” you approached his, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. As you pulled away, you could see how quickly his cheeks pinked, making you grin. 
“No ‘Petey’?”
“Didn’t know you had a preference,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards you as you took a sip from the drink and then moved to get dressed for your shift. 
“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, wishing he could feel your hand on his for just a little longer, “neither did I.”
You laughed lightly as you tied your apron, the sound hitting him like the greatest melody in the world. 
“Okay then,” you walked towards him, stopping right in front of him, “let’s start over. Hi Petey.”
“Hi angel,” he gave you a dopey grin and you returned it. 
“Great, now that we’ve got that figured out.” You patted his chest lightly before taking the drink from his hands and moving away. 
“Hey wait! Where’s my kiss?” He pouted at you and he looked so adorable, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him till he begged you to stop.
“We’re at work, we’ve gotta be professional.” You said matter-of-factly. 
He rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter, and crossed his arms. “Professional my ass, no one is even in here-,”
Before he could even close his mouth, the bell jingled, and in stepped a boy about your age. The boy moved to one of the chairs, not moving to order just yet, giving you the chance to smirk at Peter, who just rolled his eyes again. 
“What do you he’s gonna order,” he asked you.
“Hmm…a cookie, probably.” You moved lean against the counter across from him and took a sip of your drink as you smiled. 
“Hey wait, you never told me what your drink order is.”
“Hmm…” he hummed in consideration before he moved towards you, grabbing your hand with the drink and bringing it up to his lips to steal a sip, maintaining eye contact the whole time. 
“I’ve got to say,” he said in a low voice, “this one has really grown on me.”
You couldn’t look away, all you could do was stare. And stare, and stare, and stare…
A stranger’s voice, and then, “Hey, can I get one of those double chocolate chip cookies?”
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You were just on cloud nine today. 
You had taken your exam and for the first time ever in that class, you had felt confident in your work. 
And to top it all off, after you’d handed in your paper and packed your things to leave, Professor Hall had given you a ‘well done’ nod. You! He’d never noticed you positively before. You were going to need to drown Peter in thank-you kisses for his help. 
Speaking of Peter, you couldn’t wait to see him. He told you he’d be waiting for you after your class but when you stepped outside, there was no sign of him. You decided to sit on the building steps and wait. He was probably just running a little late, no biggie. 
Big biggie. After 40 minutes of waiting for him, during which you’d sent him a little text and he hadn’t responded, you decided to head over to his place. 
The walk was short and your little buzz had worn off after not getting to share it with Peter. After all, you kind of owed him most of the credit. You arrived at his apartment door, and when you knocked, it wasn't Peter who answered. 
It's Freddy. 
You throw on a smile. “Hi Freddy, is Peter home?”
He returned your smile as he said, “‘Sup Y/N.” He held out his fist and you stared at it for a while before you got the hint and bumped it with your own. “Pete’s not home right now, but you can totally come in and wait for him.”
You found it funny that someone who didn’t live there was inviting you in to stay, but you accepted anyway. You also had no clue how he knew your name. 
You knew little about Freddy, but you knew he was sort of a campus celebrity. Every raging party there was, everyone knew Freddy was behind it. 
“So,” you said as you walked in, “what year are you in Freddy?”
“Ah nah, I’m done with that shit. I took the bar,” he said casually, waving a hand and moving to sit on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the large Amazon box being used as a coffee table and picked up the open beer sitting atop it. 
You stood in your place, clutching your bag. He was in grad school?
“Oh that’s awesome dude, did you not pass or something.”
“Uh uh,” he shook his head, taking a swig of beer, “got a 350.”
Your eyes widened. What. You didn’t know much about law school but you knew getting a score like that on the bar was not an easy thing. 
“Wait when’d you take it?” You asked confused. The bar exam wasn’t scheduled for a few months from now. 
“Last year.”
“Do you like…work at a firm or something?” It was insane to you that the party animal of this school had already graduated, and with an amazing score nonetheless. 
He shook his head, “Workin' on my music right now, and if that doesn’t work out,” he gave you a wicked grin, “well I’ve always got my law degree.”
You nodded, stunned. “That’s sick dude. Good luck,” you told him, waving as you moved to wait in Peter’s room. 
“Keep the door cracked kids,” he shouted towards you and you huffed a laugh as you entered the room and closed the door (leaving it open just an inch) before you sat at the foot of his bed. 
You looked around for a second, taking it all in. It’s amazing how he managed to take this small space and make it so him. 
After a few moments, you took out your phone to shoot him another text. 
But before you could finish typing it out, the window beside you started opening and you watched as the Spider-Man fell onto the bed, not noticing you gaping right next to him. 
You stayed silent, unsure of what to do or say until he moved to take his mask off. That got you moving and talking. 
“Holy fuck!” You basically shout, moving away, hands flying to your mouth. 
He seemed to be just as shocked as you were because he scrambled up from his lying position. And staring back at you was Peter Parker. 
“What are you doing here?” He asked you, eyes wide. It wasn’t till then that you noticed the paleness of his features, his face lacking that usually healthy glow it held, the waver in his voice, and the hand clutching his bloody side. 
“Holy fuck,” you repeated, voice lower, and for a whole different reason this time. “Shit Peter, you’re hurt.” You moved closer to him, temporarily forgetting everything else as your hand reached to gently remove his so you could take in the extent of his injuries. 
“It’s nothing,” he said but made no move to shove you away or stop you. You moved his hand and winced at the sight that greeted you, “Looks like a whole lot more than nothing babe.”
“I’ve had worse.”
You look up at him, frowning slightly, “Not exactly reassuring Petey.”
“I feel all better now,” he said, shooting you a charming grin as soon as he heard the nickname leave your mouth. “Add a kiss in the mix, and I’ll be good as new.”
You huffed a laugh, shoving his knee slightly, “Shut up Peter. I’m serious. I’m sure you’ve got some experience with stuff like this,” you wave a hand towards his suit and injury for emphasis and he gives you a quick nod. 
“Over there,” he pointed toward his dresser, “top shelf, under the blue sweater.”
You rushed over there, opening the drawer and spotting the sweater he mentioned. “I’m totally stealing that from you someday, this is your heads up,” you told him as you grabbed the large box and completely closed the door before you moved back to his side. 
“You can have anything of mine, Angel. I’m sure you’d look better in it anyway.” His words made you blush, but you tried to ignore them so you could focus on the task at hand. 
Peter, however, found that he really liked watching your cheeks pink up. And he wanted more. 
“Lean against the headboard, now.” You said, trying to be serious again. 
“God, at least buy me dinner first sweetheart.” He gave you the dorkiest smirk you’d ever seen. You just glared at him. “On the other hand,” he said as he moved backward to lean against his headboard, “I don’t need dinner, I’m all yours baby girl.”
This got you to laugh, “Peter, be serious! You’re bleeding out!” You moved to his side, “take this off by the way.” You gestured to his suit. 
He hit the middle emblem of a spider and you watched as it loosened up and fell off his shoulders. You had started pulling it the rest of the way down, gulping when you realized he wasn’t wearing anything else, when he mumbled, “Not a terrible way to go.”
You refused to look up and meet his eyes but he knew he got you. Thank god he was wearing underwear, you realized, and you threw the suit to the side after you’d completely shredded him of it. He was definitely going to need a new one. 
Now completely facing the damage, your stomach churned, and you were hit with the hard truth. “I…I don’t know what to do,” you whispered to him. You wanted to help him, more than anything. This man who’s been risking his life, probably since he was a teenager you realized, as you did the math silently in your head, was hurt and right in front of you, needing your help. And you needed to help him, but you didn’t know the first thing about how to approach a situation like this. You were surprised you could stare at the wound for so long. 
“Don’t worry, I can do it,” he said gently, his bloody hand reaching for the huge first aid kit. 
“No!” You rushed out, grabbing his hand to stop him, “No way am I letting you do that! Just…just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.
Feeling more confident, you grabbed the kit and opened it. Shock coursed you as you realized just how much he went through and your confidence fell right back down where it sprouted from. The bag was full of all the medical tools and supplies you could think of, most of them completely foreign to you, and you realized how privileged you must be to not recognize any of these things. You can’t imagine the ‘worse’ he talked about having earlier. This must be those accidents he was talking about.
“I don’t usually have to use them,” his voice was soft, almost like he was reassuring you, “usually just water and a towel does the trick. Maybe a little numbing cream. And these,” he looked down at his wounds, “some bandages, sure, but I won’t need stitches or anything.”
You let out a breath of relief, you weren’t sure you could’ve handled that. You didn’t trust yourself.
“Okay,” you said, grabbing some wipes. You were going to do this. Based on what he’d told you, he was always stitching himself back up, just to hit the streets again the next day. This time, though, was different. This time you were here to help him, and you weren’t going chicken out of this. Even a little help was better than nothing at all. 
You started slowly, cleaning around his wounds so you could bandage them properly. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked you gently. “I totally understand if you need me to do it, angel, it’s a lot if you’re not used to it.”
“No,” you shook your head, your voice steady, “No way. It’s my turn to fix you up.” You told him, looking up to meet his eyes and smiling at him. 
He returned it and you went back to work. 
“So….Spider-Man, huh?” You peeked up quickly in question. 
“Yeah,” he took a deep breath, “it’s a long story. Basically, I was bit by some spider, that shit was powerful,” you laughed a little, making him smile. “And I got some. Of its powers I mean.”
“So you get bit by a spider, that spider gives you powers, and you decide to become a New York vigilante?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” he nodded, and you laughed again. 
“You’re a hell of a guy Peter Parker.” You said, shaking your head slightly. 
“Thank you, I try,” he smirked at you and you laughed again. 
“Okay,” you said, pulling away from his side. He almost whined in protest. Honestly, he wasn’t feeling any pain, not since you’d started worrying about him, and insisting you help him. Peter wasn’t used to that, he was always alone when it came to this part of the job. He’d never minded that before, just one of the things he had to deal with as a superhero, but now that someone else was taking care of him…it felt nice. Really nice. Especially when it was you. 
“Peter?” You looked at him questioningly. Shit. You’d asked him something.  
“Huh? I'm sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He said with wide eyes. He’d gotten too wrapped up in the feeling of being taken care of, not that anyone could blame him though, the girl he’d been crushing on forever was here, in his room, helping bandage him up! It's more than he could’ve dreamed of. 
“It’s okay sweetie,” you said, waving him off assuming he was in pain or something. Really, now he had something new to obsess over. Sweetie? While he was practically naked (albeit injured, but he wasn’t thinking of that right now) in bed with you? God, he could just melt.
“I was just wondering which bandages,” you said, holding up the different ones you’d found in his bag. 
“Oh,” he said lamely, “these ones.” He grabbed a few from you and opened them. 
“Look,” he said, leaning over himself to see his wounds properly, “you’ve got to bring together both sides of the wound, then secure the bandage so that it’s holding it closed.” He talked as he placed the first bandage with you watching and listening with intent. 
“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” you said as you took the rest of the bandages from him. You steadied yourself, straddling his thigh as you started placing the bandages down his wound. The biggest gash took about five, your elbow resting on his abdomen as you got lower…and lower. 
Conveniently, you missed the quiver in his breath, too focused on the work at hand, but you didn’t miss the small gasp he let out when your forearm reached right between his thighs. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you pulled away quickly, thinking you’d hurt him. “Did I pinch too hard?”
“No, no angel, you’re fine. Doing a great job actually.” He replied, trying to collect himself. He could not let himself think of that right now. There were more important things at hand. 
“You sure?” You asked him, not looking convinced.
“Positive.” He replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you back in (but making sure to keep you at a healthy distance from his dick). 
You added a few more bandages, most of the cuts only needing one or two, before pulling away again to rummage through his bag. “What do you use on your bruises?”
“This one,” he said, leaning over you and grabbing a tube from the kit. You turned, your lips almost brushing over each other with how close you were. 
“Hi,” you whispered, all thoughts completely flying out of your head as you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss him. 
“Hi angel,” he said smiling softly at you. 
Seeing you debate it in your head, Peter decided it would be easier for the both of you if he did it first. Leaning in, he closed the distance and smoothly took your lips in his. You melted into the kiss right away, feeling like you’d been craving this your whole life when really, you’d just kissed his a few hours ago before you’d left work. 
Your hands were on his bare chest, you could feel every muscle, every move when-
“Wait, you’re hurt!” You pulled away, leaving a pouting Peter in your wake. 
“My lips work just fine angel,” he said, trying to steal another kiss while you tried to avoid him. 
“But..let me finish at least,” you mumbled against his lips, barely getting a chance to pull away after he’d caught you. 
“You can finish, just lemme do this first,” he responded before kissing you again.
“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips. 
He hummed in response, moving to kiss your cheek, your jawline. If he kept this up you might not try to stop him. 
“Did you know Freddy took the bar exam? And passed?”
That got him to pull away. 
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you confusedly, “I’m kissing you and you decide this a good time to bring up Freddy?”
“Well, y’know,” you shrugged, “figured it was as good a time as any.”
He scoffed, “Unbelievable.”
You giggled, “I win.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away before he could catch you and turn it into more.
“Now lay down, lemme do this,” you said waving the cream at him. 
He moved grumpily and you thought grumpy Peter was the cutest thing ever. The furrow of his brows, the slight pout of his lips. You could just kiss him. And you would’ve if you hadn’t known where it would lead you. 
You unscrewed the cap to the cream and started applying it gently. “So Fred’s a lawyer huh?” Peter spoke up. 
“He is!” You whispered excitedly, glad he was just as shocked as you were. 
“And you learned this how?” He asked, giving you a look. 
You shrugged. “He let me in and I talked to him, asked him a few questions to get to know him better since I see him everywhere.” 
“Wait, he’s here right now?”
“Yeah,” you said slowly, “I thought you knew?”
“No I didn’t-,” he let out a sigh, “whatever it's basically his apartment too at this point I guess.”
You laughed, “And you’re okay with that?”
He shrugged with his good side. “He buys the good beer.”
You laughed again. “He scored a 350 on the bar exam!”
Peter’s brows shot up. “Oh shit.”
“I know! The only thing I knew about him was that he blacked out in that frat house’s pool all night and the cops were called cause someone thought he was dead.”
“Yeah, he’s super lucky he was on his back. Just floated around the pool like a leaf.”
You shook your head, screwing the cap back on the tube of cream, “Crazy. But anyway, I’m done. And on the plus side,” you grinned at him, “if you ever get in legal trouble, you know someone!”
He laughed out loud, and you watched as his face scrunched up and he clutched his side in pain. Apologizing for the joke, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to make up for it. 
“Enough about crazy Freddy,” he let out a sigh, “I’m gonna go put some clothes on, and then I wanna cuddle with my girl.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words and all you could do was smile as he stood up, giving you a kiss on the side of your head before he moved to pick out some clothes.
You watched him get dressed, biting your lip as you watched how his muscles rippled with each of his movements. You always knew he was strong but seeing him like that, was a completely different story. 
“Like what you see?” He asked, smirking at you before he lifted his shirt, holding it up between his teeth as he tied his sweatpants. 
Your mouth fell open. At being caught and also at…how absolutely hot he looked right now. If he wasn’t injured, you would be all. over. him. 
“S’alright angel,” he said as he stalked towards you. He was enjoying this, a lot. “I’m sure I’d be the same if the roles were reversed.”
That did not help. Now you were thinking about being naked in front of Peter and-
He laughed, kissed the side of your head again, and laid down, pulling next to him. 
“Careful Peter, you’re still hurt!” You chastised him. 
He shook his head, “You made me feel a hundred times better. Thank you, angel.”
“Of course Petey.” He smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight. 
“So, you came to see me right? Y’know, before the whole finding out I’m Spider-Man thing. What’s up?”
“Oh I almost forgot,” you perked up, tilting your head up so you could see his face, “I think I totally aced that chemistry exam!”
“Angel! I’m so proud of you!” He started attacking you with kisses, kissing you anywhere his lips could reach. 
You giggled, “Thank you sweetie, but seriously I owe you most of the credit, I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Nonsense,” he shook his head, “that was all you. I barely helped, you learned everything and then took that quiz, and aced it.”
“Well I haven��t gotten my grade back yet, I just have a really good feeling, so don’t sound too are there's a chance I didn’t do as well as I thought.”
“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have a sense, a spidey sense. And my spidey sense is telling me that you totally aced that thing. No questions asked.”
You laughed loudly. “Spidey sense?”
“No questions,” he repeated as he nuzzled his nose into your hair. 
“Fine then,” you snuggled up further into him. “No questions.”
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luvring · 6 months
Text
UNCONVENTIONAL DATES
gn!reader | gojo, geto, yuta, nobara, itadori
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“satoru gojo if you don’t get your ass to figuring out a puzzle i’ll kill you.”
your boyfriend stares at you from the velvet armchair, leg hanging over the side and cheek resting against his knuckles. “aw, baby, relax. we still have so much time.”
“i knew i shouldn’t have trusted you to pick our date.” you huff and turn away from him.
it wasn’t that satoru couldn’t think of a good date idea. he’s brought you to countless places across the city—a roof to stargaze (he crossed his heart and hoped to die if he got you in trouble for it), a hole in the wall cafe with some of the best desserts you’ve ever tried, a vintage store that smelled of old books and sweet coffee, and had a fluffy balinese cat who would lay on its back and stare at customers, waiting to be pet.
but this time, in an escape room where he’s barely grazed the row of evidently suspicious paintings on the wall, and answered “hm, that’s a good question,” or something like it to three of your guesses, you wonder if you should signal the employees through the security cameras to let you, and only you, out of here.
“y’aren’t having fun?” he teases.
you roll your eyes, hard, hoping he could sense it even with your back turned to him. “i have to figure out some curse by a guy named frederick, alone. what do you think?”
and then you hear him stand up, hear the sound of him tapping, shuffling?—you’re not really sure, something, before coming closer.
his steps are slow, purposely louder than usual so that you can hear him travel all the way until he’s right behind you. then satoru, in typical satoru fashion, holds the key to the vault you’ve been trying to get into for five minutes in front of your face, before leaning over your shoulder with a grin. “how about now?”
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“top 10 people i’d break up with my boyfriend for?” geto reads out the title of the slideshow before you can.
“hear me out.”
“you know i’m your boyfriend, right?”
“no way, really?” you ask in faux shock before giving him a look. “be quiet and listen, i’m presenting.”
“who you’d break up with me for?”
“number one.” you ignore him and switch slides. suguru doesn’t miss how your lips twitch, wanting to smile at your own cube slide transition you apparently took the time to apply.
“no one,” you say easily. “i love my boyfriend despite how annoying he is, and i would never ever think of breaking up with him. also, if he tried to break up with me, i’d throw up and cry to make him feel guilty and remember all the good times we’ve had and why he’s dating me in the first place.”
your boyfriend in question leans further back into the couch and lets his chin rest in his palm as he hums thoughtfully. “happy to know you’re willing to throw up and cry and beg, but—”
“i didn’t say beg.”
suguru says your name—quietly, smoothly, with an amused lilt at the end despite your slideshow and what he’s about to ask next. “you know i can see there’s 12 more slides, right?”
a beat passes.
he’s still watching you intently as you finally smile.
“of course. so for the real number one—”
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“can you just fall over once so i can feel better about myself?” you huff with slightly bent knees, and fingers intertwined with yuta’s while he slowly skates in front of you despite, apparently, never having had the chance to try ice skating before this.
the sun keeps you warm despite the chill as a few other couples skate around the rink—some mirroring you, others faring better.
yuta blinks, and then he lifts his head just enough so you can see how the corner of his mouth twitches past his scarf. “would it really make you feel better?”
“i dunno, maybe. try eating some ice first.”
“okay.”
and before you can say anything, his hands leave yours as he falls onto the ice with an ‘oof!’
“yuta!” his name leaves your lips in panic. the sudden disappearance of support makes your legs wobble, and your skates dig into the ice before you make your way toward him.
your boyfriend groans, his cheeks flushed, though whether from the cold or embarrassment, you’re not sure. you feel guilty for laughing a little when you speak, “i was joking, oh my god, are you okay?”
his hands move instinctively as he goes to push himself up, before he quickly realizes how cold ice is against bare skin. “yeah, ouch—ah, cold, cold! i know—i just thought i’d be better at fake falling.”
he winces as you awkwardly help him up, standing still as you give him a once over and rewrap his scarf around his neck. you joke softly, “you know what? seeing my boyfriend hurt himself didn’t make me feel better. sorry for asking.”
despite the slight ache in his tailbone, yuta manages to laugh. “you know what would make me feel better?”
“what?”
his face, already tinted red, flushes more as he realizes what he’s asked. but it’s too late now, and he probably deserves it—”...a kiss?”
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an ad for a vintage market had popped up a few days ago, and nobara had excitedly agreed to go when you sent it to her. (she was slightly less excited at the thought of waking up early to get there first, but the competition, fashion, and “getting to buy rich people’s things” were enough to motivate her.)
you’re pulling at the sleeves of the coat you’ve found when she pops up beside you, flaunting a grin and pair of shades on her face. “do you think i look cool or super pretentious?”
you smile back. “depends on if you think i look cool or super pretentious.”
she taps her chin and hums before looking you up and down, exaggerating the head movement so you can tell despite not being able to really see her eyes.
“want me to spin?” you ask. but before she can even answer, you turn 180° and lift your arms, letting her soak it in. she watches as you walk around the stall, careful not to go too far so it didn’t seem like you were stealing.
“maybe if you were older and lived in a house with four cars or you were gojo, super pretentious.”
the mention of gojo makes you snicker. “...but?”
nobara’s smiling at you when you turn to face her with eyebrows raised. she lifts her hand to shoot you a thumbs up. “you’re not, so i say you look super cool.”
her face suddenly gets serious. “but seriously, what do you think about these shades? cool? pretentious? gojo?”
“what would you do if i said gojo?”
“break up with you.”
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“i never took you as a cat person.”
“neither did i, i don’t think i am? but look how cute he is. his name is waffle,” itadori says without looking at you, focused on the fluffy grey cat in his arms.
waffle purrs and rubs his head against yuuji’s chin, who lets out a noise between a whimper and coo in response.
you huff. “coming here with you was a bad idea.”
he gasps. “don’t say that in front of waffle.”
“because now i want to adopt a cat,” you continue, laughing a little at yuuji’s tightened grip around waffle.
he makes a noise of agreement and pouts. “but if we didn’t come, we’d have never met waffle.”
“and porridge?”
“and russell.”
you snicker at the thought of russell—an orange cat in one of the other rooms who was one of those cats that really looked like he didn’t have a thought in his head. maybe because he was orange. “yeah, you know what, fair enough.”
yuuji decides to put waffle back in his kennel, but keeps playing by pulling the pipe cleaner tied to one of the cage bars up and down, getting him to jump up and grab it. “ahh, hi waffle, you’re so cute. i hope whoever adopts you is the best person ever.”
the sight of them playing makes you smile and pull out your phone. turning on your camera and pointing it toward yuuji who tilts his head and laughs, eyes lighting up as his new friend flops onto his back, you think it’s as good a time as any to get a new lockscreen.
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surprise.! Get jujutsu kaisen'ed. i've never done this format i had no idea how to divide them so i just. used dividers. hm. i'll figure out if i like that or not later. no i didn't have anyone in mind for geto's slideshow. didn't know who wouldn't be... weird.
@danyisapingu @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @sirimirihiro @aria-chikage
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