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emphistic · 2 months

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"I'm Lactose Intolerant"

Things Reader Should Acknowledge: I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS ALREADY BECAUSE I FORGOT TO SAVE IT AS A DRAFT, i have yet to get the hang of tumblr, yuuji hasnt been born yet, the itadori parents neglect their children so grandpa takes care of them, waaaaaay later is when yuuji is born, sukuna gets his tattoos when he is older

Prologue: As summer nears its end, and autumn takes its place, you find yourself in quite the situation. A new family has arrived in the neighborhood, and your parents have tasked you with greeting your new neighbors. A wacky grandpa, a gloomy tween. Seriously, could things get any worse?

A/N: Sukuna is 10 years old, while reader is 9 years old. However, Sukuna was held back a grade, so guess who is joining your class this year? *cue the confetti*

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

PS: i know little kids shouldnt be walking the streets alone, but lets just pretend the world is a better place

Chores are boring. Errands, on the other hand? Well, not so much.

You shielded your eyes from the rays of the sun as you walked down the street, avoiding the cracks on the pavement. The sky bled as the sun set and the songs of the birds started to come to a halt. It was a typical Saturday, help get the groceries, head home, and assist with dinner as much as possible. However, what wasn't typical was the fact that there was a moving company's truck blocking your way home.

Wow, there's definitely a better way to go about this, you sigh. Mindlessly, you kick a pebble aside and tighten your grip on your tote bag as your stride continues.

Several men in navy colored uniforms carry boxes as another man, who you estimate is a septuagenarian, surveys the workers from the front lawn of his new house. The man, who you also assume is your new neighbor, has his hands clasped behind his back and wears a green wool sweater.

Deciding to be polite, you clear your throat, neaten up your braids, and slowly approach the man, cautious as you try not to give him a heart attack. At nine years old, one may not know much, but one might know that killing your elderly neighbor is a pretty wack first impression.

The man looks quite surprised to see you approach, and even raises a white brow.

Okay, maybe this is a bad idea, you think as your palms start to sweat. You go through several introductions through your mind just to go with the most lame one.

"Hello, sir. My name is Y/N L/N. I'm your . . . uhh, new neighbor," you cringed at yourself before holding out a hand to the man.

"Ah, wasn't expecting to meet my neighbors on the first day here. I am Mr. Itadori, pleasure to meet you," his voice sounded like that of an old man's, yet, it had such a warm, cozy feel to it. He took your hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Likewise," you say, after a few seconds of silence.

"Should a girl, — pardon my rudeness — as young as you, be walking out here alone at this time?"

"Aha, my parents trust this neighborhood enough. And anyway, I was only getting groceries from the store, it's not too far from this block actually." You pointed a finger in the direction of said store.

"Wow, you must be pretty responsible for your parents to be sending you out for groceries, huh? Good to know some children in this neighborhood help out their families," Mr. Itadori turned to face a boy, probably not much older than you, who was carrying boxes into the house when he put emphasis on the word "some".

The boy had pink unruly hair, that was slicked back and spiky. You held back a giggle at the sight.

"Grandpa, I'm literally moving furniture into the house. What are you looking at me for?" The boy grumbled, but he didn't stop as he moved the boxes.

"I never said you didn't help out. I was just simply telling Y/N here, about how some children help out their families. No need to get upset now, Sukuna." Mr. Itadori gave a small chuckle, before abruptly turning to face you.

"Oh, right! How rude of me, I haven't introduced you to my grandson."

"Oh, no worries. You guys are probably busy—" You began, before being cut off.

"Nonsense! Sukuna! Come here, boy."

Sukuna muttered something, and dropped off a box by the front of the house before moving over to you and his grandpa.

Now that the boy was closer, you could make out his red eyes, and the frown on his face. Looking back at Mr. Itadori, you noticed he did not share the same qualities as his grandson, and instead had brown eyes.

"What are you waiting for? Introduce yourself!" Mr. Itadori lightly pushed Sukuna closer to you.

The taller boy stared at you for what seemed like forever, before averting his eyes to the ground and keeping them there. "Name's Sukuna."

"Y/N. But I think your grandpa already mentioned that," you tried to lighten the mood.

You swear you heard him say something along the lines of "pretty name" under his breath, but before you could ask, Sukuna retreated to his boxes. His grandpa looked displeased at that. Actually, that's quite an understatement. He looked furious with Sukuna, but he didn't do anything other than sigh and bid you adieu and good night.

You slowly walked back to your house, your arrival being a little later than usual, which your parents questioned you about, to which you explained that there was a truck in your way.

When it was time for bed, you did as you usually did. Showered, changed into your pajamas and watched a movie before cleaning up and preparing to actually go to bed. As you moved to close your window blinds, you noticed something you hadn't seen in a long time — considering no one's occupied the house next door since it was put on sale — there was a window right across from yours, and the light was on.

You didn't plan on becoming a creep at such a young age, but due to curiosity, you didn't peel your eyes away from the window. It surprised you to see that the room across from yours was a bedroom belonging to none other then Sukuna. When you saw the pink spikes of his hair come near the window, you quickly shut the blinds.

The next morning, your mom shook you awake.

You groaned, "Mom. . . What is it?"

"We have new neighbors, honey! I've already started prepping for baking an apple pie for them—" You let her ramble on while you were still half-awake.

Oh, right . . . you never mentioned your meeting with the Itadoris. Now you have to introduce yourself to them, yet again.

"—I just need you to grab a few ingredients for me, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Mom. No problem." You stretched out your arms and yawned.

"Perfect! I'll let you get ready then. I'll give the list on your way out." Then, your mom got up, and shut the door.

You yawned again and rubbed your forehead. This was definitely going to be an interesting day, to say the least.

You met your mom downstairs and she instructed you on the ingredients you needed to purchase. "Uh huh, got it. Thanks. Bye, Mom!

Still half-asleep, you slowly slipped on your sneakers and headed out through the door. The sun warmed your face, yet sent a chill down your spine.

Apples and lemon.

Apples. . .

And lemons.

You hummed to yourself as you walked down the street, passing by the Itadori house.

Apples and lemons—

"Gah!" A little rock got in your way, and you were about to faceplant onto the sidewalk when you felt a firm hand on your shoulder reel you back upward.

You turned to see who your savior was, and cocked your head to the side in surprise.

"Sukuna? What are you doing out here?"

"No 'thanks for saving me, Sukuna'? Also, contrary to your belief, other people in this neighborhood get out the house too, y'know?"

You scoffed, jutting out your bottom lip, "Thanks."

Sukuna held a smug look on his face.

"So . . . you gonna take your hand off my shoulder, or should I do that tor you?"

He looked taken aback, and swiftly returned his hand to his hoodie pocket. "I have to go get groceries. My grandpa sent me, because our house is basically empty?" Sukuna acted as if that was common knowledge.

"What did you have for dinner last night, then?"

"Ordered in."

You mumbled, "Figured."

"Anyway, Grandpa told me you know where the closest grocery store is? I need . . . directions."

"Oh! Right," you scratched the back of your neck. "I'm actually heading there right now. You can come with." If Sukuna didn't want to go with you, he certainly didn't show it (surprisingly).

"So you're actually going to turn this way, down here, across this weird looking house or something — I actually don't even know if it has someone living in it — then go in front of this—"

"Stop talking, and maybe we'll get there faster," Sukuna muttered.

You turned around to face him; he had his hands in his pocket and wore a bored look on his face. You huffed.

"Go have someone else show you the way, then. Y'know, I was actually trying to be nice to you and all. I'm even showing you the shortcut. And now look at how you're treating me." You turned away from him.

"'Trying to be nice'? Please. You haven't asked me how day was going. 'Trying to be nice' my ass."

You ignored his use profanity at such a young age, and you came to a skidding halt; Sukuna even bumped into your back when you stopped abruptly.

"What is your problem!? So what if I haven't asked you how your day was going? SO WHAT? You haven't asked me either. If you don't like me just leave. me. alone!"

"People are so uptight these days," Sukuna shrugged.

"Uptight? UPTIGHT? Please, be my guest, and show me how I'm the uptight one here." You couldn't believe this dude. He's the only other kid in this neighborhood — besides your sibling — and he refuses to be cooperative, kind, nonetheless, a decent person.

The rest of the walk to the grocery store happened in silence. And believe me, the silence was loooouuuuddd. You wholeheartedly believed Sukuna would leave, but he didn't. Which made you even more mad.

The bell above the door chimed when you stepped in the store, out of pettiness, you didn't even hold the door for Sukuna. He scoffed at that, and you turned around to face him. "Well, here you are. The grocery store. Happy now?"

"I'm never happy."

Wow, he must've been dropped on the head as a baby, because he certainly did not get the personality from his grandpa.

You walked through the aisles one by one and searched for the items your mother requested.

Apples and lemons.

You didn't even bother placing them in a bag, insisting on carrying them yourself. Meanwhile, Sukuna was still trailing behind you, much like a lost puppy. His groceries were all in a bag, and he looked ready to pay, but he was still behind you.

Finally, you got sick of his weirdness, and peered over your shoulder to get a look of his face, which was frowning, "Why are you following me?"

He looked like he was pondering, thinking of a way to answer your question. "Girls shouldn't be walking around alone. Especially you."

"Ugh, there you go again. Always thinking you're better than everyone else. And, whaddya mean 'especially me,' huh? You don't think I can handle myself? Are you here to protect me or something? Swooping in to save the day, my knight in shining armor? Seriously, Sukuna."

He groaned, and dragged his free hand down his face, "I came from a not so safe neighborhood. Can't you see I'm just trying to look out for you? If some man came up and harassed you, and I was shopping in some other aisle, would you blame me too?" His voice softened on the last part.

"Forget it, you're right. I'm wrong," you sighed and walked to the register.

When you got home, your mom ushered you inside and hurried to start on the apple pie. You bit your nails as she worked, and she quickly took notice of that.

"Something wrong, sweetie?"

You shook your head, and mouthed a simple "no".

While you were upstairs reading a book, you heard the beeping of the oven, signaling the completion of the baking process. Before you could even put down your book, your mother called out to you from downstairs.

She welcomed you in the kitchen and took great care in wrapping the freshly baked pie in tinfoil and sending you off to the Itadori house. But before that happened, however, she made you memorize your speech, reminding you to inform your next door neighbors of who originally made the pie. And with a soft pat on the back from your mom, you were off.

It was a quarter past 12 o'clock when you finally found the courage to knock on your neighbor's front door. You heard a "coming!" from inside the house, and returned your hand to its side.

Loud footsteps came closer until finally the door was flung open. You were greeted by the sight of Mr. Itadori in a fluffy red robe, and equally fluffy slippers.

"Ah! Y/N. What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

You stuttered a bit, "Hi, Mr. Itadori. My mom and I wanted to formally introduce ourselves, and welcome you to the neighborhood — I didn't mention our very much brief meeting yesterday."

"Oh wow! You can tell your mother I appreciate her kind welcome." He turned his head into the house, and called for, "Sukuna! Come here, boy."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to be a bother—"

"Agh, you children. Always the same. Nonsense, Y/N. Utter nonsense."

Sukuna stood behind his grandpa in record time, his speed surprised you. "What's she doing here?" He sneered. You offered him a glare in return while Mr. Itadori was oblivious.

"Don't be rude to our kind neighbor. She's here to formally introduce herself."

"Again?"

"Yes. Again."

"Whatever."

Your eyes flickered back and forth between the Itadoris' banter. "I've brought some apple pie — my mom baked it."

Mr. Itadori's eyes lightened up as you presented the tinfoil covered dish to him. "It smells delicious! You really didn't have to, my dear."

"It was no big deal, I promise," you laughed (nervously).

"I will put this on the counter, one second," Mr. Itadori walked away, leaving you and Sukuna alone. The taller boy crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.

"Apple pie? Really? Are you trying to kill me and my grandpa? I'm lactose intolerant. We're lactose intolerant. He just didn't want to seem rude, so he's putting it away."

"Oh. . . uhh, I didn't know that—"

"I can tell. You didn't think to ask first? How considerate of you, Y/N."

You stumbled on your words.

"I'm just messing with you. Apple pie is his absolute favorite."

Your jaw dropped six feet, before you came back to your senses and rolled your eyes, "Did you have to scare me like that?"

He laughed aloud, "Duh. Shoulda seen the look on your face. Priceless!" He continued to laugh, while your expression remained stoic, trying not to laugh as well. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was actually funny.

When his laughter subsided, he cocked his head to the side. "What's with the face? Girls don't know how to joke around or something?"

You frowned.

Mr. Itadori returned to the both of you and patted his grandson on the back. "Well! Thank you again, Y/N. Tell your family I say thanks and appreciate their kindness."

"Of course. I'll be going now." You waved to Mr. Itadori — feigning ignorance to Sukuna — and walked back to your house next door.

When Sukuna and his grandpa sat at their newly assembled dining table, they both couldn't believe how good the apple pie tasted. Sukuna even asked for a second slice.

Mr. Itadori broke the silence, "So, school starts tomorrow."

Sukuna glanced at his elder, and raised a brow.

"Since you don't know anyone else at your new school, you can ask Y/N for help. She'll be in your grade anyway."

Sukuna sighed, "Grandpa, why are girls so difficult?"

"Ohoho," Mr. Itadori's laughter boomed throughout the house. "You're a funny one, Sukuna," and he ruffled his grandson's unruly hair, messing it up more.

#sukuna x reader #jjk #sukuna fluff #idk how to tag sos #sukuna x you #jjk x you #ryomen x reader

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fangirltothefullest · 4 months

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Can I ask a question? I like your sanders sides a lot and you give them a lot of personality in their designs! How do you make them like that? Or I guess I mean, what inspires you to make them the way that you do? I want to draw the sides but I'm not sure how to start other than their canon designs!

Oh my goodness I LOVE this question! For me, it's all about the feelings you get when you see them and the vibes I want to express. The Sides embody, to me, more than an aesthetic it should also encompass personality, role, and intention. In other words, I match their aesthetics to their function and the intent of what I feel like Thomas originally intended for them for their first short videos before they were actual sides.

Let us pick Roman, because even though people say he's not, he tends to be everyone's favourite to reblog fro me because he's pretty.

So I started by drawing him exactly as he was and to me he felt flat- in the show he's exactly as he should be but I am an artist and to me he feels more than what he looks like- it's dreamy, it's romantic, it's like he's giving childhood favouritre Disney Prince vibes, you know?

Inspiration 1: Prince Phillip

Hands down the biggest inspiration comes from him because he IS my favourite disney prince. Just looks a the hair swoop and the eyelashes- perfect. So I went ok my favourite Disney Prince is Phillip, let's start here. Before the CGI movies, there was such a romantic feeling about classic Disney princess movies and I've always loved the romantic feeling of Sleeping Beauty. The backgrounds are stunning, the way she's animated makes my bi ass give heart eyes and I loved that he was the only prince at the time who had a personality (until Beast but that's a whole other can of worms because he started out as an asshole/grumpy). I feel like modern Disney movies miss a lot of the romantic dreamy feeling of the older 2d movies because there was such care into the painted backgrounds being LESS realistic and more a fabulous idea of what a background should be and AHA! MORE INSPIRATION~! Let's make Roman a fabulous romantic idea of what a prince should be!

Inspiration 2: Faerietale Knights in Shining Armour

Our ideas of medieval knights are nothing like actual knights which are more reminiscent of hired military and enforcers. Our ideas of faerietale knights in shining armour are brave knights who would go off to kill a dragon to show their devotion to the one they love. Sword fighting heroes- is that not Roman if not an idealized romantic "royal knight wants to win the heart of the love with courageous deeds, acts of chivalry, selfless devotion" etc. Prince Phillip is a good model of this. Defeats a dragon and true love's kiss saves the day. A perfect romantic dream isn't it? Realistic? No of course not, but Roman isn't realistic he's creativity and romance which absolutely ignores practicality for the dream.

So we have this culmination of dreamy romantic disney prince and faerietale influence.

Now it's about aesthetics- Roman is reds and golds and whites, all royal colours typically associated with bravery, lineage, and strength and purity etc.

Inspiration 3: Media referencing

So let's find some movie or media equivalence I can reference. They came mostly in the forms of Narnia and Once Upon a Time.

So some aesthetic inspirations for belts and textures, missing the epaulets.... so to military garb!

Inspiration 4: Russian royals

Let's face it no one does embellishments like this any more <3

Inspiration 5: Lions

Roman's colours being red gold and white give me lion inspiration too so I looked up royal lion iconography as well (which ended up with a lot of lion king in the search because this was before AI but like.... it's not incorrect and the wavy flowy mane acted like hair. If Hamlet with lions is inspiring then use it, right? that have some AMAZING lion king-style artists on deviantart to get inspired by, it's a whole thing, mad respect) But ANYWAYS it gave me some cool stuff to be inspired by too.

Inspiration 6: Classic Golden Age Hollysood Leading Ladies (Note that this isn't femme fatales, because for Janus I used femme fatales as inspiration)

I knew that I just HAD to give Roman that Marilyn Monroe beauty mark, yes he paints it on every day yes it's in the same spot every day yes it's necessary.

Ultimately this culminated in a checklist of things that I wanted for him:

He must give the feeling of Prince Phillip in disney prince style

I wanted him to have flowey hair that makes him look softer and romantic and can be pulled up into a ponytail if necessary.

Must have a beauty mark and eyelashes that go on for ages reminiscent of old hollywood ladies, and let's throw in nail polish too.

I wanted him to have an outfit that would be his original but embellished to hell that can be like Narnia or OUaT in terms of texture and added stuff. It needed more gold, 100% needed epaulets (the shoulder things with the dangly rstuff), and it needed a belt where a sword could be attached. Danglies not always necessary, but look really good when done and is reminiscent of old fashioned military garb and Russian royalty.

He needed to look like he's used to wearing this outfit every single day and going out of his way to do so.

Ended up with this:

So yeah that's how I got to his design!

#sanders sides #tashiarts #how i get inspiration

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lume-nosity · 1 year

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morning notes they’ve left for you

ft: kazuha, xiao, heizou, ayaka

style: fluff

notes: gn!reader, not proofread, lowercase intended, heizou being heizou, heizou’s portion is a little hard to read on dark mode,,

reblogs are appreciated!

kaedehara kazuha

‘good morning my lovely dove, i hope you had a peaceful and undisturbed slumber. by the time you found this note i’ve went out to fish. that reason being i’ve considered to have you try my specialty; grilled fish. so i hope the thought satisfies your palette. and worry not, i’ll be back home as soon as possible once i’ve finished. and it’ll be my pleasure to teach you how to cook it as well, if you wish. but for now, rest easy and wait for my arrival.’

adeptus xiao

‘morning. i’ve left this note here to let you know that my duties have occupied me for some time. demons are becoming more active recently, so i’ve went to deal them while you were asleep. you needn’t worry about coming across one of those pests should you go out. but, if you have any plans in regards to going out, speak my name. i will accompany you to wherever you need to go.’

shikanoin heizou

‘rise and shine partner! i hope you’ve rested well. now, i know you just woke up without me by your side but don’t panic! the tenryou commission called me in for yet another case. it seems as if they don’t have enough brainpower to manage on their own, huh? a pity isn’t it? well, not to worry, because once i’ve dealt with the matter at hand, let’s say we go to that escape room i’ve mentioned a while back.‘

kamisato ayaka

‘good morning my dear. next to this note, i’ve prepared breakfast for you before i left to attend an important meeting. i apologize for not letting you know beforehand because i received word at around the time you were still sleeping, and i wished to not disturb your relaxed state. so to make it up to you, i’ve cooked your favorite! i’ve experimented with it as i’m not familiar with it, so it may not taste exactly like the one you told me about. but either way, i hope you still find this dish fitting to your tastes.’

an: you guys like this new style? because i most certainly do! (aha totally not an excuse for me to mess around with the gradient text a lovely mutual of mine taught me how to do it) but i don’t feel like running back to my older works and reformatting them, so this is completely brand new. also, i was planning to write for more characters but i got a little scatterbrained and can only do four.. though, i hope you enjoyed this regardless, and i’m off to sleep <3

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writing-hat · 3 months

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4 AM midnight thoughts on polyninja's ways of kissing and holding each other!! in honor of valentine's day tomorrow (aka the biggest fucking note that was on my app jfc)

ways the ninjas kiss each other:

Kai

jay kisses Kai on the lips! a big smooch! mwah! electrifying

cole kisses the top of his head often, just to mess with his hair

zane kisses his cheeks, sometimes both, or his hand to see him become an absolute mess

Cole

jay kisses him on the cheek with an evil laugh

zane kisses him on the lips, with passion!

kai kisses him on the lips, the cheeks, the neck, the-

Jay

cole kisses him everywhere because he can and it tickles him!!

kai kisses the top of his head! then ruffles his hair

zane kisses his cheek, and and then lips, and then lips again and he ends with the nose!

Zane

cole kissing lips with passion too! and cheek, while holding him (idk why it seems important to add this here but well)

kai kisses the back of his hands in an attempt at flirting, and his cheeks, before going for the lips

jay kisses him on the cheek! lil shy and bold at the same time! then lips mwah!

idk why but zane = lip kisses for me. sue me.

ways they pick up each other:

Jay

zane picks up jay on his arm like like he's sitting on it but zane's very strong so he's like sitting on his arm like a gremlin/bird does this make sense idk

cole piggybackride / koala // or bridal style (looking at that one moment in island season (i think))

kai picks him up like he weights nothing/like a gremlin, but also let's him climb on his shoulders

Zane

jay picks up zane bridal style AHA! showing them muscles!

kai picks up zane by his hips, and then twirl!

cole holds him, before picking him up with a single hand to get him a bit flustered

Kai

jay picks kai up koala style! again, jay just loves to show his muscles to his partner

cole just holds him like he'd hold a precious egg, with kai's head on his shoulder, enjoying being pampered by him

zane would like. twirl him around as they both wear the most magnificent dresses ever. and then he'd hold him up by the back thighs/hips depending on the comfiest pose

Cole

KAI CARRIES HIM ON HIS BACK ZQGHJGZHJZHJRHZJ

jay loves to surprise hug him! and catches him like that! and then kicks the back of his knees to get cole leaning backwards

zane picks cole bridal style. do you see the picture

bonus of vampire cole's way of biting the others (because of course):

he bites kai's wrist. he bites jay's collarbone. he munches on zane's shoulders while kinda falling asleep because the metal feels good to his teeth or something, like baby tooth? idk

jhzgoizrhjkh melting away iam fine I AM FINE LET ME BE

happy pre-valentine

ALSO WE ALL HAVE OUR HEADCANONS AND ALL! SO YOU CAN COMPLETELY DISAGREE, in the reblogs as well!! I'd love to see people's thoughts uOu)

#SCREAMS #i need a fucking break holy hell #hat's words #should i tag the ships?#eh fuck it why not. it's practical when you need to find those back as you write #lavashipping #technoshipping #bruiseshipping #glaciershipping #oppositeshipping #plasmashipping #that's a long list. how much of a hold do they actually have on me?#vampire!cole #<- this one's important. to me.#(the jaya angst fic will be published tomorrow)

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commander-rahrah · 4 months

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Talking to the Moon: Part VI

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~4800 Warnings: slightly suggestive, swearing, blood, non-con touching (Cazador touching reader), some borrowed in game dialogue, canonical warnings apply!

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here part II: here part III: here part IV: here part V: here

Summary: Set in Act III, after you arrive in Baldur's Gate and have met some of Astarion's siblings but not yet confronted Cazador. Astarion struggles with inner turmoil as he is suddenly thrusted back into the clutches of his old master's influence.

Notes: Long time no update! Long story short December was the month where everything was bad and everything hurt - ER hospital visits and many, many days laying in bed and on the couch very unmotivated and just wanting to feel better! I am very grateful to be feeling better and up to writing as my fics is one of my favorite creative outlets! So thank you for being patient between updates! I really appreciate it and any kind of interaction like a reblog, like or comment truly makes my friggin' day!

So this update and the next chapter will be focused on confronting Cazador! I have had these thoughts and ideas to add more to the in-game scenes since the very first time I played it! I was doing a multiplayer save with my fiancé and the second we finished Astarion's quest (I sobbed the entire time btw) I stayed up all night writing all my thoughts onto my notes app. I didn't even intend to write into a fic back then, I just wanted the outlet of writing it all down to help with how emotional I was feeling about it all! And now a few months later, I have a fic with over 30k words. Aha... whoops!

Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this update and the slight changes and add-ons I've added to this final part of Astarion's quest. I honestly teared up writing parts of it, because Astarion and his and my Tav's story means so much to me, I couldn't help it. ALSO, I don't plan on these being the last updates since it is the "end" of Astarion's quests. I still have plans for this Tav/Reader and Astarion yet. Not enough kissing and happiness had happened yet!! Just some angst and pain has to happen first.

As always, reblogs and comments are very very appreciated ♡♡♡

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You had wandered the streets of Baldur’s Gate before. Long before the nautiloid, in your time living in the city you had explored as much of the exciting city as you could. But never like this.

Your party had taken every cobblestone street, every back alley and shortcut. Astarion lead the way for most of them, pointing things out and sharing antidotes with you.

But you noticed how his smile strained at times, that he was wearing down the stitches on his leather pants from his fingers picking them nervously. At night when you slept side by side you’d wake to him trembling and muttering through a nightmare, which had become more frequent since you stepped into the city boundaries.

The vampire has been so sure of the next step in the Shadowlands and Wyrm’s Crossing. But now anytime you neared the streets leading to Cazador’s castle, he was turning on his heel and looking at one of your companions to ask what they needed to do instead.

Meeting his siblings days ago had been eye-opening. You thought you understood what he had gone through, that the memories he had described to you, and even shown you through the tadpoles, was enough. But after seeing how controlled and manipulated Petras and Dalyria had been… What they were being forced to do…You couldn’t bring yourself to picture Astarion like that.

You couldn’t imagine the turmoil and anguish going through your lover — seeing his siblings, being in the city again in a way he never thought he would, being so close to seizing power that could change his fate forever. You hadn’t voiced that every time he mentioned taking the ritual for himself fear stabbed in your belly. You knew what was motivating him to even consider the choice — outright fear and the call of power that was easily addicting. But too many things in his life has been decided for him… so you didn’t voice that to him, instead insisting that you only needed for him to be safe and happy. You trusted him to make the right choice.

You did trust him. You loved him.

And you showed him as such — throughout the day as you laced your fingers through his, as you rolled your neck for him to feed, as you curled into each other to sleep.

And he had been returning that trust and love back.

He had continued to expand his boundaries with you, slowly but surely as the days went on. Your quiet time together after a long day, you were a reprieve he sought out over and over. You whispered and giggled with each other between kisses in your shared bed in the Elfsong Tavern — tucked into the corner and hidden behind privacy screens. Privacy screens that Karlach had loudly dragged over before giving you both a very unsubtle wink. Then she did the same for her and Shadowheart.

The teasing had been relentless.

You still hadn’t taken those final steps, and you were in no rush too. Astarion’s happiness and agency was the most important to you, always. Yet, you couldn’t help the way your heart thundered and breath got higher as he slowly explored any kind of touch and intimacy with you again.

You were laid together now, draped across each other — you only in your night clothes and Astarion in very thin linen pants. You were pressed gently on top of him, your voice and lips whispering across his pale skin as he pointed his fingertip to various parts of his body. His new game he had started that night — seemingly convinced that he would find a part of himself that you did not love.

Utterly impossible — but you indulged him anyways.

“Even this? You like this?” He pointed to his knobby elbow.

"Hmm,” You hummed approvingly, pressing a gentle peck to the bare, taut skin of his bent joint.

His low laughter rumbled through both of you, shaking you slightly. “I’m running out of ideas.”

You eyed him greedily, “I’m not. You’ve missed some of your best parts.”

“Have I?” He cocked a brow, a smirk spreading across his face. “Alright, go on then.”

“I can—?”

“Mhmm,” He nodded his head against the silk pillow, settling himself deeper into the mattress under your weight.

Swallowing, you took him in underneath you and felt your mind start whirring. Slow, patient, soft — you reminded yourself. You gently touched his jawline, the tip of your finger following the strong line. “Here.”

Then your forefinger and thumb rubbed the cartilage on the tops of his ears, “Here.” His mouth fell open deliciously with that one.

“Here,” You caressed the mole on his cheek with a swipe of your thumb.

You continued your movements, so drawn into him that you didn’t notice his red eyes blazing as they flickered between watching your hand and watching your face.

Your fingers gracefully dragged across him. His Adam’s apple. His knuckles. Collarbone. Inner wrist.

“I told you, there is no part of you that I do not like. Every inch of you I want to—“ You cut yourself off. Perhaps that was too much. This was a fun, teasing game — exploratory and gentle. You hadn’t meant to make it about your own desire and arousal.

He swallowed, his mouth hanging open slightly, “You want to what?”

You let out a fake cough, lifting yourself off of him slightly with a blush crossing your cheeks. “Well, I—“

A grin spread across his face, “Oh, I love it when you get all coy.” He purred, pulling you back before you could fully get away. “Tell me, please.” He whispered.

“There isn’t an inch of you that I don’t wish to kiss. To taste.” You admitted huskily, the heat on your face spreading to your neck.

The groan that escaped him made the fire in your belly sputter even hotter.

“Show me?” He asked softly, but his tone was slightly more sultry than before.

“Sho—show you?”

He nodded before fidgeting under you to display himself more — stretching out his neck, spreading his arms out.

“May I—“

“Darling,” He said the pet name a tad exasperated as his slowly closing eyes snapped to yours. “This was my idea. You don’t have to ask every time.”

“Yes, I do.” You insisted.

He rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his soft curls, “Really—“

But you cut him off. “Astarion, I do. I will continue to. It’s important to me. I never want you to do something you don’t want. I never want to make you feel like that with me.”

“You haven’t. I know you wouldn’t.” He trailed his pale fingers through the hair hanging in front of your face as you hovered over him. He tucked it behind your ear.

“I know it seems like a silly question, especially between us but I want you to know you can—“

It was his turn to cut you off, silencing you with a reassuring kiss. He was looking at you with astonishment when you finally opened your eyes from the deep kiss. “What ever did I do to deserve you my lovely moon?”

You smiled tenderly down at him, “Perhaps it was fate.”

“Hmm," His red eyes blinked slowly, "I used to despise that sentiment.”

“And now?”

Astarion gave you one of the most tender smiles you'd ever seen. “I think you might be right.” He ran his fingers gently down your cheek before letting out a dramatic puff. “Now, stop turning me into a sappy lovesick fool and kiss me already.” He growled playfully.

"As you wish, love." You mumbled as you pressed your lips to his.

• • •

You woke with a stir, the weight of the mattress shifting suddenly and then the sound of scuffling feet. Astarion was standing in front of the bed — in front of you defensively, still only in his night pants with his bare chest rising and falling quickly. A dagger was closed in his fist, aimed in front of him of threateningly. “Stop right where you are.” His voice was commanding like it had never been before, but you could still hear a twinge of uncertainty in it.

“You know why we’re here, brother.” A low, masculine voice said — seemingly coming from the dark shadows in the corners of the large suite.

Astarion's stance grew wider, his grip on his dagger tightening until his already pale knuckles turned white. “Come any closer to us and it will be the last thing you do.”

Peering over your lover's figure, you found four pairs of glowing red eyes studying you intently. The hairs on the back of your neck and arms started to stand up.

"I mean it - get the hells away from us!" Astarion growled again, his hand blinding reaching back for you. You laced your fingers through his and a protection spell was on your lips seconds later, muttered quietly until you felt the magical aura surround him.

The rest of your companions were up on their feet after Astarion's shout, pushing in towards your bed, edging around it in a protective semi-circle. Most of them were scantily clad in only undergarments and nightclothes - but all of them had their hands glowing with magic or weapons drawn. Fury was etched on every one of their faces from the intrusion and threat.

One of the female vampires eyed the rest of your group, counting and calculating. Then she raised her hands up, "We come in peace, brother."

"You call this peace, Aurelia?" He frowned at her. Your grip on him tightened as you stood up and tried to go to his side, but he stepped in front of you protectively once again.

A male stepped forward slightly, his mouth and eyes ruby red with deep scars carved over his skin, trailing down his chin. It was a terrifying sight. But his voice did not match his appearance, and instead was laced with desperation and hope. "The master needs all seven us for the ceremony. Come with us and be reborn. We'll live again."

The suite remained deadly silent. Like you all were waiting to see who would make the first move, who would let loose a spell or swing a blade first.

But it was your meek voice that broke the silence, "How did you find us?"

Their red eyes snapped instantly to you, but it was one of his sister's who spoke. "Master Cazador has known where Astarion was this entire time — where both of you were. He has been watching carefully since you arrived in the city."

"You know what our master will do to them.” His scarred brother warned, nodding his head towards you. His eyes almost looked... sad.

“He won’t get the chance, Leon.” Astarion snarled back.

Leon raised his hands defensively, "We aren't here for them. We are here about the rite. The master needs you. You must attend."

Astarion scoffed, "Oh, I am well aware of what the master needs. But don't we all deserve better?" His features were contorted in a strange mixture of emotion. "After these centuries of torment, I know what you all want. More then power. More than to walk in the sun. You want to see him dead."

The desire for revenge, for Cazador's death, did not surprise you. He had said as much, and bluntly too. You had agreed that Cazador deserved such a fate after the years of abuse and exploitation he had forced upon Astarion.

"If you think I will be a willing sacrifice for him and his deranged ritual, you really are stupidly blinded by him."

"Sacrifice?" Aurelia stepped forward, shaking her head. "No, this is our way to cheat undeath."

"Is that the lie he told you?" He sneered.

"I-"

Astarion's lips curled up, "You're all fools. You think he cares about us? You think he will grant us such power? We are nothing but pawns to be slaughtered for the king — one final, grand maneuver so he can win the game."

His four siblings shook with disbelief. "The master doesn't need to lie to us. He controls us, fully. Why go through the trouble of giving us hope..."

Leon got there first, his face crumbling. "Because its more cruel... shit."

The vampires exchanged a look — a look between siblings that you knew well. One that you had shared with your own brother many times. A silent conversation had happened between them in an instant.

"That manipulative bastard." The other female finally spoke, her words a hiss between her fanged teeth.

"How did we not see this?"

Leon squared his shoulders, moving his red eyes to look back at his free brother. "Astarion is right... because we are blind fools."

"We must go before he compels us too— agghhh." Aurelia grabbed her head, her expression one of excruciating pain. "Aggghhhhh!"

"Take her." Leon commanded the other siblings who looped their arms around her, dragging her away as she fought them. But he lingered behind them for a moment, stopping to look over his shoulder and study the pair of you. To look at the rest of your companions surrounding you defensively. "Help us, brother." His voice was a whispered plea, his terrifying, red eyes wide and shining. Then with a loud crack and a sudden puff of red, they were gone.

A collective sigh escaped your party as they disappeared, spells extinguished and weapons dropped down to their sides before they turned to face both of you.

Astarion’s shoulders sagged as he realized his family had indeed left. He all but collapsed into your side, burying his face into the crook of your neck as you held him back. Really, as you held him up.

You stroked his hair as he murmured into your shoulder, “Tomorrow. This ends tomorrow.”

“Okay, my love. We’ll be with you the whole way.” You whispered into his pointed ear, returning the concerned expression of your companions watching as your hold on Astarion tightened a bit more.

• • •

Whatever you do... I just don't want to die down here.

Sebastian’s voice was echoing in his ears, his mind, and creeping down into parts of him he had just barely started to recognize again. Parts of him that a few months ago he had deemed long dead. He had to force his pink lips into a firm line just to stop them from trembling.

This place, his so-called home was his personal hell. Every step through the fading carpets and ostentatiously decorated rooms had gotten harder and harder — until he had started to feel physically ill. Bile was rising in his throat, his back and palms of his hands turning clammy. And now, standing in the secret, buried crypt beneath — it felt like the castle above him was pressing down, screaming at him of what a luxury it had been that he was a prisoner up there and not down here. That voice in his head, that ringing, echoing voice. Gods, he wished it would stop.

And you... you had been so uncommonly quiet. You who had lent him your strength since the moment he met you, you and your presence a steady reassurance that he had come to depend on. But his little moon who was usually so chatty and poetic, was so quiet. Your eyes were wide as you followed him through Cazador’s castle, your steps clumsy and dazed like he wasn't the only one walking through this twisted nightmare. Perhaps it was for you — realizing the realities of what he had been through.

When Astarion's composure had really started to shake, you snapped back to reality and were with him in an instant. Your warm fingers threading through his icy ones. Your voice, your soft, hushed voice using the smallest amount of words to try and put his cruel mind at ease. The words you had used were choice, but powerful. You insisted that all of this was Cazador's cruelty — not his.

But how could he believe that as he stood in front of the cells filled with people he had brought his master? How could he deny the role he played in all of this when he could stare into the eyes of all of those victims — the stupid, innocent fools who in a fleeting moment fell for him.

Especially when he realized how fortunate, how damn lucky, it was that he never stumbled on you on the streets of Baldur’s Gate the past year you'd lived in the city.

Astarion stood before the precipice of Cazador’s ritual room. The grand doors that would lead to these final moments just a few steps away from him.

The fine outfit he picked for himself suddenly felt unbearably tight and itchy. The lacy neck scratching and digging into his skin, his leather shoes too restricting. He had wanted to use the clothes as a symbol to his old master — look how well I’ve done without you, look who I’ve become without you. His hands became fists at his sides, his knuckles white and half moons appearing on the soft skin of his palms as he squeezed tighter and tighter. The only way to stop them from trembling — with both fear and rage.

“I'm here for you, love.” You whispered gently, your warm fingers ghosting the sides of his wrists as you stepped in beside him. His fists unclenched slightly as he breathed in your familiar scent, as he savored the soft caress of your skin on his. He pushed down the building sob climbing up through his chest, the urgency of the cry growing as he felt your presence surround him. "Just... remember who you are, Astarion."

Who was he? It felt even blurrier in this sadistic crypt under the castle he used to call home. Though it never was one. A prison, that's what it was.

And what version of him did you see? Could he really be what you thought you saw? What you thought he could be?

Astarion had left Baldur's Gate against his will — a tormented, violent, broken thing. A puppet. A slave. He thought he had returned to this city anew — a free male, softer around the edges but no longer a thing to be used. His own person.

Yet the second he felt the influence of Cazador's control, the moment he felt that familiar threat he felt as if he was falling backwards. Being backed into a corner, corralled into the cage and slapped into chains that he had rotted away in for two hundred years.

He would not go back.

A shudder went through him as he tried to compose himself once more, taking a deep breath that he knew he did not truly need. Looking sideways at you, he gave you a final nod. "I'm ready for this to be over."

Something flashed in your eyes, but it was gone as fast as it appeared. You nodded, before following him through the grand doors with the rest of your companions trailing behind.

The descent down those stairs was brutal. Time seemed to drag to such a slow that it was almost like the scene before them was frozen in time. Astarion could recognize the familiar silhouette of his master anywhere. It had haunted him long enough that he had memorized every harsh line and angle. He loosed a breath as he counted six figures bound and hovering by some form of magic — a seventh spot on the top center left open and waiting.

For him.

"Could it be?!" The voice that plagued his thoughts, his nightmares and memories echoed throughout the large chamber. It sent hundreds of different feelings throughout his body, his flesh getting goosebumps and steps faltering for a moment on the stone stairs.

"Our prodigal son returned to us!" Cazador's voice was jovial, but there was no mistaking why. The final piece to his game had just delivered themselves to him, the sacrificial lamb for slaughter had seemingly come with no ill intent.

Astarion would make the vampire bastard regret underestimating him.

He could hear you just steps behind him, the pads of your feet, the familiar thrum of your heart increasing as you both stepped closer and closer to Cazador's place on the central dais. He gritted his teeth, his back molars clenching down so hard he swore he heard a crunch in the back of his mouth. He lowered his head, looking up at the monster that had ruined him through his eyebrows.

"Do not slouch before me, boy! Have you no respect for yourself?" Cazador snapped, waving his hand dismissively at him. "Look at you, crawling back after abandoning your family. You should be begging for our forgiveness."

"I will do no crawling, nor begging." Astarion snarled, baring his teeth slightly. "And forgiveness? Really? You have never forgiven anything. Every mistake, every slip was punished."

The bastard had the audacity to roll his red eyes, "I strove for perfection in all things — even those as imperfect as you. A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts."

"No!!" He roared, stepping forward once more as he pointed his finger. "No, fuck you and fuck everything you've ever done to me!"

Cazador raised a single dark brow before letting out a humorless laugh, "You stupid, little boy."

"You son of a bitch!" Astarion couldn't stop the explosion of anger that coursed through him and he charged forward. His pale hand formed a fist as he launched himself at Cazador but a flare of red magic suddenly froze him in place. His body stopped completely, caught mid-lunge with his fingers still curled in a punch.

He heard a strangled whimper from behind him. It was you, the sound one he had rarely heard — one of you paralyzed from fear.

But the master mercifully ignored you, only having eyes for his spawn. He smirked as he surveyed Astarion trapped in the swell of magic, "Tut, tut." He clicked his tongue, "Did you think it would be that easy?"

Astarion let out a groan of pain as he tried to resist the red binding power that started to form around him. Tears began to prickle in the corners of his eyes as they began to squeeze and cut into his skin, seeping into him slowly like a dreadful poison.

"Astarion!!" His name ripped out of you at his pained cries, stepping forward onto the dais to intervene. The agony in your voice was more unbearable then what he was currently suffering.

He was a fool to bring you here, to ask you to help him. He had served them all to Cazador on a silver platter.

“Oh?" The ancient vampire's voice had a hint of wicked glee in it as he turned on his heel and set his eyes on you, with the rest of your companions lingering just behind you. Like he had just finally bothered to notice your presence. "And who do we have here? Your little pet, Astarion?”

You froze in place, but stood up slightly taller. He watched as you jutted your chin forward, setting your shoulders back as you refused to cower in front of him. Even if he could scent your fear from here. Then the old master slinked around you, his chest almost brushing your back as he inspected you head to toe. Your jaw set as he circled behind you where you could not see, but you did your best to keep your face neutral. “And what’s this?” Cazador asked with a flicker of false humor.

Astarion hissed as the vampire stepped even closer, bending down to eye his puncture marks that had scarred on your neck. “You finally gained enough courage to feed from a being capable of thought? Congratulations, spawn.” Then he took in a large inhale, “And quite an appetizing pick too, they smell absolutely delicious."

His glowing red eyes snapped back to Astarion as he remained behind you, looming over your shoulder. He was gauging every reaction from both of you, he knew.

Studying. Calculating. Deducing.

Like any manipulative vampire would.

"But it seems my dear boy, you’ve been double dipping with this one haven’t you?” He made to grab your silver hair and Astarion felt his mind go berserk. “DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH THEM!” He roared, pulling hard enough on the magical red tethers around him that they flared and flickered for a moment.

An evil grin contorted his master's fingers as he still put his long fingers through your hair and pushed it behind your ear. The action revealed even more of your neck so he pressed his prominent nose against your pulse point, inhaling deeply. “Your scent is all over them.” You shuddered involuntarily, your face wincing and flinching away at his cold touch.

Astarion growled, his fangs barring and snapping at his old master. “Oh, so upset. They are your favorite little pet aren’t they?" A long finger nail dragged down your jaw. Astarion's eyes were glued to yours, your body seemingly immobilized from fear — for both yourself and him. Cazador cocked his head as he watched the pair of you before letting out a scoff. "You fool, you fell for your snack instead. What a pity... for once I was almost proud of you.”

He finally let you go, wiping the fingers that touched you off on his jacket like you were a worm he had picked up from the dirt. He licked his lips as he approached his spawn again, still frozen with his scarlet magic that buzzed and echoed with authority throughout the entire chamber. “Well, I can give you one last comfort, since I am such a generous master." He whispered into Astarion's ear, both of their eyes locked onto your worried expression. "Once you and all your siblings are nothing but pulp... I’ll treat your special love extra carefully. I’ll be so lonely since the rest of you will all be gone. But this one… they will make for a delectable companion."

Another growl escaped from deep in his chest, but the sound was caught as Cazador wrapped his long fingers around his pale throat. “It’s a pity I have to lose you. So much work, so much time... gone. But my new companion will do a much better job than you, with a pretty face like that no one would resist? I mean, even you didn’t.” He hissed in his ear.

"ENOUGH!” You barked, stepping forward closer to him with your mouth and brow set in a hardline. "Release him, Cazador, at once."

The bastard only smirked and snapped around to meet you, "Ha. Or what?"

"This all ends here. You end here." You did not stutter or stumble. Your voice was strong and carried across the chamber. Your companions stepped up behind you, hands moving at their sides as they readied their weapons and spells at your word.

"Is that so? You are willing to risk death for him? A wasted, mistake of a spawn? A stupid, little boy?"

Your nostrils flared, your eyes shining with familiar power that was now coming off of you in waves, "I would do anything for him."

"Stupid mortal." Cazador barked, his lips curling in disgust. "I forgot how foolish you can be when you fall in "love". But not to worry... I'll train that right out of you." He twirled back around dramatically, looking at Astarion as he held onto his staff tighter. The red magic swirled and brightened around Astarion, squeezing him so tightly he felt as if may be crushed from the inside out. "You truly forgot my power, Astarion. You truly thought our bond as creator and creation was all that stopped you from killing me. You are weak, my child. You are a small, pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything. But today, you will finally do something worthwhile. You will burn, and I will ascend."

The vampire master flicked his wrist, and Astarion was soaring across the room — completing the final spot in the ritual circle. The entire chamber room suddenly lit up with the red light, a enormous sigils swirling underneath Astarion and the rest of his siblings as they hovered in mid air. Their tops suddenly shredded from the force of the spell as their naked, scared torsos were revealed — the scars littered across them glowing the same scarlet as the patterns beneath them.

"ASTARION!" His name was a roar from your lips again as you surged forward, hands outstretched for him across the ritual floor.

"Witness the birth of the Vampire Ascendant! Ecce dominus!" Cazador's staff slammed down onto the marked stone floor.

And pain like nothing Astarion had ever felt went through every part of him.

Read the next chapter: here

#bg3 fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #astarion/reader #astarion fanfic #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfic

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firefly--bright · 7 months

Text

peeks and blinders (you know me)

jean kirstein x gender neutral! reader, modern au

summary : being loved required patience and time and hope. luckily, jean provided all of them, without hesitation.

warnings : feelings of being deeply alone, heavy, hurt/comfort but mostly hurt, reader might sort of have depression

a/n : aha. lol. lmao. uhmmm yeah this is incredibly self indulgent and a projection. if you relate to this please PLEASE know that you're a) not alone and also b) I'm here if you ever need anyone to talk to. i wrote this with an unhappy ending in mind but with the poll results (and let's be honest, the aot finale) I decided to make it a happy ending instead. don't worry, everything works out in the end. this fic might just be terrible if you're already sad, so reader discretion is advised! i dont expect anyone to read the whole thing!!! but if you do read it, I hope you like it because I spent way too long on it. the ending might've been a little rushed only because I wanted to get this out as soon as possible so I could move on with a new fic idea ;)

taglist : @mrsnobodynobody @holding-infinity-and-a-book @jeanscremebrulee (side note- thank you for the kind words in my taglist form's criticism/comments question. i truly, deeply appreciate it :) )

masterlist is in pinned post! ✿ requests are open! ✿ likes and reblogs are appreciated! ✿ join my taglist ✿

✿ recommended playlist to listen to while reading ✿

living with someone meant showing yourself, something you weren't afraid of. well, not afraid, more just apprehensive. there was too much of a potential to fucking up a relationship; showing yourself too much in the one place you're allowed to be yourself without restrictions and limitations. you love your friends, you love jean, but sometimes the quietness of being alone was more than welcome because it had to be.

so when jean asked you with eyes that didn't meet your own if you wanted to move in with him, you didn't answer. quiet literally, you paused from eating the slice of pizza in your hand. he continued on with his nervous 'making-up-for-the-lack-of-response' ramble, explaining how you technically already lived together, how he liked finding your toothbrush next to his, and reluctantly admitted that he sometimes used your soap when he wanted to have a good day. a speech that warmed you despite your answer.

because no matter how comfortable you'd be with anyone, sharing the same space with them was a different kind quiet, unrelenting vulnerability. the fact that you existed and let someone percieve you without hinderance was...too much to think about. you had been alone your whole life, not in a pitiable way, but in a way where you didn't have a childhood best friend. you didn't have people stick around, like you were only at a corssroad of people's lives and greeted them with familiarity and comfort that they'd craved, despite your want and desire for it yourself. they'd continue on with their path while you would sit there, patiently, passing time.

jean admitted it to you. indirectly, he had confessed that he wanted to see you vulnerable and bare open in a way that people wouldn't know you normally. in a way where you were simply a locked window that noone had the key to. but there wasn't anything special to hide, no great overview of the city or the sea or rolling hills and valleys and large fields. no, just an unimpressive view of an unmowed backyard. untamed and messy - again, nothing special. just years of neglect while also being looked at. nothing special.

you didn't want him to see it. and technically, he asked you. you stopped spiralling just as he started his own, realising the effect your non verbal answer had on him, you simply said "I'll think about it." and tried to crack jokes along until the end of the night. because if nothing, then jean deserved some peace to balance out the turbulence that came with loving you.

in all honesty, you didn't know what you did. how you comitted the monsterous feat of getting him to love you. how he loved you in your entirety (or lack of it), how he woke up everyday and chose to love you despite everything that you took from him, drawing out his grumbling patience and gentleness because loving you meant waiting. loving you always, somehow, meant not loving you, because there was no way someone would know you, all your stories and opinions and ideas and still choose to love you.

living with you meant knowing your anatomy. not of your physical, breathing body, but the inside of your organs. it meant knowing that your stomach was filled with guilt, that your mouth could only utter whispers of people who once loved you and 'im sorries' to someone who won't know. it meant knowing that your hands were always aching to be held, that your skin was only ever warm when it was loved. it meant knowing that your chest was always heaving, yearning for a breath of relief that would never arrive. it meant knowing that your eyes always wandered off to the weighing scale kept at the back of your closet, always wandered off to find another pair of eyes that would look similar to yours. it meant knowing that your hair was always knotted with the doubts your mouth would never ask. it meant knowing so much about you, about the grey matter in your brain and about what flowed through your veins was nothing but pure doubt and discomfort with the unholy temple that was your body, the temple without a god, the temple that noone went back to. a body without a home.

he wouldn't want to know. he shouldn't want to know, and more importantly, he wouldn't like finding out. it would either be too much or too little, and his fingers would cramp up with the effort it took for him to pry you open, only for no prize to be met with. besides, you were okay just talking to yourself, no matter how insane it sounded. you got through so many years being self-sufficient, right? you didn't know how to handle it, handle someone actually loving you without doubt. you had lived long enough without it. someone loving you was new, something you didn't have a map for, something you didn't have any precautions against.

you and jean slept together that night. in the same bed, breathing the same air, under the same covers. you didn't share the same sleep, however, as his mind made dreams and yours went on like an unfinished painting - a list of unfullfilled answers, no meanings, trying and failing to come together. you found yourself watching him breathe; just his chest moving up and down and up and down, your hands twiching to rest on top of his but you didn't know if that's where they'd belong. if his body would wake itself up because of your touch - everyone was always surprised by how cold your fingers were. you were used to it.

maybe living with him wouldn't be that bad, right? as he said, you already shared the same space to a point where the pair of you felt comfortable enough to not care if your hair was groomed perfectly or if the colours and patterns of your outfit were clashing. but would he like it? would he like just how much more comfortable you could get? just how much you could ask for? just how long you could lock yourself up in the bathroom and try to cry? would he like to know just how long you sometimes spent on your bed, refusing to get up because your heart felt too heavy for your chest? for when your heart felt like it could fall through your back, punch a hole through the ground and bury itself in the earth until it could somehow bonify and fossilize and archeologists would recognise, instantly, that it didn't belong there.

he'd leave. that was something you knew for a fact. your love wouldn't be wasted, ofcourse not, neither would the time, but maybe he'd leave feeling like he'd wasted himself at your expense. or maybe he wouldn't think about you at all.

your night was spent with your brain spiralling - thoughts about how you didn't know how to handle being loved the way he loved you, about how you probably never had a childhood best friend that was still in your life because the phases of your life weren't meant for anyone but yourself to see, about how much your hair fell due to the stress of distracting yourself from overwhelming sadness by studying and creating while also being only slightly average at it. you fell asleep thinking about how the abundance of being alone, to you, meant being not alone at all, because there was no differenciation of company and lonlieness because there hadnt been any company to remind you of the lonliness at all- your eyes had fluttered closed and breathing evened.

jean always wondered if you were hiding something from him. not in a bad way, not in the way where he couldn't say he loves you, but in the way where you'd hesitate. and if he didn't love you as much, he probably wouldn't have even noticed. but fortunately, he did know you. a little too well.

he knew how much you loved the crunchy autumn leaves, so much so that you would alter your paths just to crunch one under your boot, a smile of satisfaction gracing your face after hearing the noise it made. he knew how much your fingers would reach out for his. he knew how much you tried - with everything. he knew of your unsaid struggles, knew when and what made your mood sour. and he loved it, he loved the fact that he knew all of those thing but more importantly, loved that he loved them.

loving you felt like it was a built-in feature.

but despite all of this, he didn't know why. he didn't know why you were the way you were. he knew you tried, but he didn't know why. he knew you struggled, but didn't know why. and it was driving him crazy, especially after last night. he couldn't help himself, even if he could see you, again, trying to diffuse the situation with lighthearted jokes, he couldn't help but think a little too much.

did you not want to? jean had always been honest about how much he struggled with being either too much or too little, about how much the words hurled by his friends when he was young hurt him, about how much his love proved to be uncomfortable and silent and resigned. maybe his honesty was too much for you. maybe you didn't like the burdens he came with, maybe you didn't like knowing how much his father's absence had affected him, or about how much his previous partner altered the way he saw himself to a miserable extent. you hadn't asked for all of this, all of him, all of his parts. maybe you were getting sick of it.

or maybe, if Jean's knowledge about you served right, you were being hesitant again.

he swears he doesn't mind it. you not wanting to move in with him wasn't a problem, but he just wished he knew why. the whole day, the only thing on his mind was how he could feel less hesitant towards him, god, anyone but him. he knew, firsthand, how it felt being so overwhelmed by inconsequencial doubt where he was left with so many regrettable unanswered questions engraved into the palm of his hands because he kept them hidden in his fist for too long, where he wishes, prays, and hopes for an answer that he knows will never arrive even if he doesn't look for it.

there are many things jean wishes and prays and hopes for. you're not one of them. but only because you're here. he doesn't need any other wish to be fulfilled or prayer to be answered or hope to sparkle. you are, inadvertently, all of them. a love without doubt, a wish without a cost, a prayer without a sacrifice, a hope without desperation. you're all of them. you're everything.

but he knows that if he's hesitant this time, if he doesn't reach out to grab you, if he doesn't do something, no matter how desperate, he will most ceratinly feel a deeper regret than he has ever felt before. and yes he may be exxagerating it, but he doesn't care. he'd learnt not to care when he was with you - he's learnt to be comfortable with you and around you. he wants to tell you that it's okay if you don't want to move in with him because his home is wherever you would be, his home is his hand on your thigh, his home is watching you blink in thought, his home is the sound of your footsteps. his home is anywhere with you. you are the only person who has the right to know that.

he makes his familiar way over to your apartment. you're not home yet, sasha informs him with a sleepy voice and messed up hair, "but you can wait in their room." she says because everyone knows that you wouldn't mind him waiting in your room. including him.

he does your routine - the one he's seen you do countless of times when you enter your room - take off his coat and hang it on the back of your door where one of the hooks is kept empty for him, shoulder his bag off and put it down on the spot next to your desk, turn on the desk lamp and the night lamp because you refused to turn the overhead lights on, because "they are so hideous why would I want to turn them on," according to you, and then finally occupy the space on your bed, laying his back down and his hands resting on his stomach as he waited for you.

staring at the cracking paint on the ceiling of your bedroom, jean thinks. from his pending homework that he's mentally figuring out how to schedule to how he's going to conduct this new group project with people he has never talked to before to how is it already the second last year of University because it felt like the first day was yesterday, until finally his thoughts landed on you. of course it would always lead to you.

it started from him thinking about University, then about how he met you on the second day, seeing you in one of his classes, sitting diagonaly across him, how you conducted yourself, slipping your bag off and checking your phone. then it turned to him seeing you at the freshers party where he saw his now ex-partner with someone he knew he shouldve questioned more. how he stormed off of the party with half tears of sadness and half of anger, catching a glimpse of you in the corner of the room, looking kind of lost. he saw you multiple times after that but never talked to you. he saw you at an ice-cream parlor once. he wanted to talk to you, but Connie had loudly confirmed the tickets to this new concert, which took away Jean's attention from you. but then he was introduced to you by Marco, because of course it would be Marco who had the pleasure to befriend amazing people. he met you then, properly, when you introduced yourself, and he nodded at you with little regard.

jean shook his head with a little smile. he had been so stupid, that day. he barely looked in your direction as you got acquainted with Marco, Connie and sasha, but he didn't disregard the fact that you looked less lost than you were at the party.

you had a way of sticking around, jean found out after that. he didn't realise when you had slipped into his life, hiding in plain sight. one night he found himself awake the same time as you and the next, he found himself saving a seat for you in the class you shared with him. soon enough, you knew him as well as he knew you, and there was softness in the recognition your eyes held when they met with his. the same appreciation of his existence, something he hadn't felt before. he couldn't say that he knew you as well as the back of his hand, because really, he knew you like the back of your hand, because he'd looked at your hands more than he'd ever looked at his, noticing all the little creases and scars and veins and hairs. he knew what warmth they held, he'd felt it after your hands made their way into his while walking back to your dorm on a cold night. a night jean would never forget because he had frantically knocked on your door right after leaving you there, because his senses had finally worked and he had finally found out that he wanted to kiss you. and he did, and you kissed back, and jean swore he had never been happier even while he could hear sasha and Connie and Marco cheering for the both of you. he kissed your forehead as a goodnight that night. you were in his shirt.

you were his home before he even knew what his home was, before he could find out for himself. you became an answer with a question.

he sighed, hearing your footsteps make their way through the tiny apartment, saying a small "hi," to sasha who was sleeping on the couch. the door to your room swung open just as jean sat up, his weight resting on his forearms on your mattress. you didn't seem surprised that he was there, just flashing a smile at him before removing your bag and placing it down, and jean felt his heart flutter with comfort as your presence filled the room.

his eyes trailed you as you did the same thing he did a few moments ago, plopping yourself down right next to him. your breathing evened out with his as the two of you lay in silent comfort before jean spoke.

his voice was a low hum. the words were barely different, but you understood them anyway. "yknow you can talk to me about anything, right? even if it's sad or not funny or not...I don't know, not remarkable. you can say it. i won't laugh unless you want me to." he says. it's a flimsy promise, but you know his words hold a meaning that you can't quiet grasp.

his palm lays on top of the back of your hand.

he's warm. scarily so, because why would someone hold so much warmth towards you? more importantly, jean extended his hand without even meaning to, like muscle memory, which was, again, terrifying, because loving you as habitual purpose was scarier than you having to prove yourself for it.

your shoulders relax almost instantly; habitually and with purpose. was the purpose of it to not have a purpose at all? was the meaning of your being to not have any meaning at all? was it just to love despite it?

you wanted to do good. not in a special or overly remarkable way, because you knew you would never reach that mark because you never had, but in the way where you'd be recognized. in crowded rooms, you'd be sought out for because of your "goodness" - be it reliability, comfort, all the things you usually associated with jean. which was ironic, because noone who didn't know him like you did would ever think of jean in that way.

"i.." you say, trailing off. you want to say that you know, but it'd be a lie. it'd be a false promise, and jean didn't need that any more than he needed you. so you say, "I'll keep that in mind."

jean doesn't buy it. his hand squeezes yours, stubbornly. "no, i don't want you to keep that in mind, I want you to want to do it." he says. his head turns towards you, watching the side of your face with an expression you know better than anything. the slight furrow of his brows, slightest scowl on his face that was masked by a layer of genuine concern.

"what I mean is.... you don't have to be so hesitant with me." he says. you want to blink back surprise, except that it's not really surprising. he's seen you, more so than anyone ever has, so it's not surprising that he'd see if one day was affecting you worse than the other days. it makes you want to scream because you don't know how to deal with it.

you close your eyes as if that would help. it wasn't like you were good at running away from affection, mostly because you never needed to. if anything, you were used to running towards it, desperately, just trying. but here it was, now, the resolution of it all, of all of the aches and creakings of your deepest yearnings, yet you couldn't seem to look at it. look at him - at jean, your best friend, someone you'd do anything for - with eyes that matched his.

you sigh. there's a deep silence, and jean isn't anticipating anything. his hand is still on yours and he feels you squeeze it tightly, but he isn't going anywhere for you to hold on to him. even if he wasn't tethered to you, he'd want to stay by your side, without any precautions or promise of a fruitful result. he'd stay with you regardless.

he isn't waiting for you to say anything, because being with you feels more than adequate, like it's instinct, like his shoulders relaxing when it's just the two of you, or like that tingly feeling in his chest when you kiss his cheek after a long day.

but when you do speak, it's with resignation and certain grief. "i dont think you'll like me. if I... if we move in together, I think, realistically, you won't like it."

"how can you be so sure?" he asks. it's not a serious question, but he thinks it's a start. you're doing it, you're being less hesitant, and atleast that's somewhere to begin.

"i just am." you say, shrugging. but it's not a fact, atleast, it shouldn't be. it isn't to jean. he's rolling his eyes now, but he's not annoyed or digusted. "how?" he presses, because he knows there's more, there always had been with you.

"i get too much. and then too little. like none of it is ever just right. and I'm scared that you'll see it and...I don't know, get frustrated at my lack of everything." you say. there's truth in every word even though you desperately wish there wasn't. you're still hesitating, but it's less so. your hand is still in his, still squeezing it. it was predictable - something you found yourself relying on - the warmth of his palm and the way his hand would also engulf yours with the same echoing softness it always had. even if his fingers were calloused and a little rough, it didn't matter. they still held you the same.

he's clinging onto every word you're saying, every small explanation, every twitch of your eyebrows. he knows what's going to come, he knows there's going to be an admission of guilt coming on soon enough but he also knows, more importantly, that he'll be there to tell you that no, he does not regret loving you, and yes, he will keep doing it over and over and over again.

"I've never been... wanted like this. or like anything, I guess. and I'm so scared," you breathe in deeply, keeping your tears at bay. jean pushed himself onto his forearm, looking at you in a way you've never been looked at before. "I'm so scared of disappointing you because I think that's all I've ever done. that's all I know how to do." the box is open now, and it's not forced or pried with effort. jean has always known how to open it, you think, you just didn't let him. he does it now, with the same hands you find comfort in, the same gentleness that his eyes have always held for you.

you're crying. you don't have anything else to add to your statements, and they hang in the air as if waiting for you to complete them, expecting you to do something. but you don't and you can't and jean is holding you, his hands are at your sides and your nose is buried into his shoulder and you think the words and the expectations can wait for now, or for however long jean is willing to take care of you.

your shoulders shake. jean is whispering into your ear, asking you to breathe. he's saying it so kindly that you feel the need to comply, and when your lungs finally calm, he rewards you with a kiss on your forehead.

you think if how much of a liability all of this is. about how much you weigh in emotions when you're this open and vulnerable. not even like an open, unhealing wound, but more like that feeling you get when you finally decide to read an unread text message that had been sitting there for a month, but you're the person who both sent the text and also the one replying to it and also the one who was watching it unfold. you caused this, you were the only one who was replying, and you were also the witness to all of this.

but now jean was here. it was unusal and strange - someone being there, actually, physically and mentally present instead of those placating "you'll get over its" that were repeated to you by the few people you decided to open up to.

the two of you are silent now, only broken up by deep, almost heaving breaths from you, something you wish you would stop doing. instead of you digging your nails into your palms like all the other times, your nails are clinging onto jeans clothes, and he doesn't seem to mind. instead of it being your blankets like all the other times, it was Jean's soft heat wrapped around you, moving with each breath you took until your chest didn't feel as heavy anymore.

"i know." he says, finally. he doesn't expect you to answer, ofcourse, but he knows you're listening because you shift slightly in his arms. "i know...too well, what it's like. i know that moving in means more to you than it means to people in general. i know that it's not even about moving in together. i.." he's being hesitant. finding the right words, but for once, Jean's happy about this trait of his. he's glad he rethinks decisions and the next time when he tries again, he's more sure of it. hes sure that he loves you, hes sure that he wasn't made to love you but he grew into it because there's that choosing again, the fact that yes, he did probably have a choice, but he would never even consider it. he doesn't want to consider it and maybe that's more important than there even being a choice. he wishes he could put it into words that would make sense.

instead, he opts to say, "I am so sorry you had to think all of this all alone for so long. but I'm...I'm here now. i know that won't solve everything instantly, ofcourse it won't, but I will be here until it will. i will wait."

there's promise in his voice, a conviction that you hadn't heard before. you trust him, you always have, but you don't know if you trust yourself with this. you don't trust yourself to be someone he loves. he's quick to quiet your concerns after yet another peck on your forehead.

"but don't you think I take too much?" you ask. its doubtful, the steps you're taking on the usually thick ice that has turned too thin too fast. you're afraid you're going to offend him, but you stand no chance against Jean's all-knowing sigh. it's not a tired sound, not one anyone gives before they're about to give up. you're not sure what kind of sigh it is, but jean doesn't let you figure it out for yourself because he's answering.

the ice turns into concrete. he's become your footing, the reason you're still standing and not under numerous feet of cold water. "i dont think you're taking. your....your love doesn't ask to take. you love despite everything, not because of it. everyone, including me, focuses on how to be loved, on how to be a perfect image that probably won't last for too long, but you..... you focus on shaping your love, the love you give. i dont know if you've noticed it, but you do. you don't take too much, you give without expectations. you give with hope. it's beautiful." he pauses. "you're beautiful." he says. he's not looking anywhere else but your eyes that are welling up with familiar tears.

you suck in a breath. "im not used to sweet words, jean," you say, the breath you held releasing with a bittersweet smile. "i dont know how to handle all of this love you're giving me. i think... i think you love me too much." another tear down your cheek and onto the mattress. jean wipes away it's remnants.

"i dont love you nearly enough." he says with the same laugh you had given him, "but you'll grow into it. just like how you grew into everything else, you'll grow into being loved. i grew into it too," he says. his forehead touches yours. the proximity makes you shiver. "i grew into just how much you love me. and I wanna keep growing into it because I love loving you. i love you loving me, as selfish as it sounds."

you take a moment to register his words. yes, you weren't used to being so vehemently and stubbornly loved and taken care of, but you could. you could get used to it, get used to crying in your beloved's arms, being fed spoonfuls of carefully heated up soup that would settle into your belly, being looked at for more than a split second. you couldn't fathom it now, sure, only because you could've never believed it before, but that could change. you could grow into loving love, into accepting it just as freely as you had given it.

jean wasn't holding you with a death grip because he knew that you wouldn't leave, atleast, he didn'tanymore. he would've done it, he had all the reasons to. if he were still fifeteen, he would've thought that he had to come beg and cling on to love to make it stay. he had to do something spectacular, something entirely not himself in order to prove that he was atleast worth giving a try but with you...he didn't have to beg. he didn't even have to ask. for a while it felt undeserved, all of this care you were giving his somehow beating heart, all of this ointment you were providing to his broken bones, but he somehow, miraculously, grew into it, because he let you in. he let you see him with the eyes that would rival the ones he was sure the gods had, he let you see him and all his unknown and unsaid sins and let you love him anyway because you wanted to, because you didn't see something in him - a potential of something greater - but you saw him as he was. as he is. and nothing in your smile changed. and if you could do that, then he'd be damned if he didn't love you the same.

no words were said after that, only Jean's heartbeat mingling with your own in your ear. both of your eyes were closed, his hands relaxed on your back, your chest no longer heaving, commanding you to pay attention to it.

you fell asleep in the silence of promise.

---

the promise continued even a week later, turning into two, turning into four, wherein jean kept loving you despite and because of, unafraid and unwavering and for the first time, without any hesitance.

you were keeping up on your promise too. trying to accept it - all of this affection, his affection - without hesitance. it was hard but mundane things usually are and you continued to grow and mend and try, above all else, which was more than jean hoped for.

he's passing you the brush he had slathered the perfect amount of toothpaste on, slipping into the comfort of the cool night warmed by the heat of your previously taken shower in your bathroom. you smile at him as a thanks, and he nods as a welcome, and no words are spoken. no words need to be spoken, and his right hand makes its way to the small of your back, his left brushing his teeth as you start brushing yours and you think that maybe everything is uncertain. everything always has been and always will be, and loving someone has always been uncertain, too. being loved has always come with doubt and guilt and shame. but the only difference was that now, both of you hoped. you hoped that everything would be alright in the end, jean hoped that he'd get to share the same bed as you in the end.

hope was flimsy and hopeless, too optimistic, but now it served as something you both shared. the shared sentiment of hoping that you'd have eachother till the end was more important than the uncertainty. it meant that both of you would keep trying. you don't need to be sitting, waiting patiently and hopelessly at the same crossroad now, because Jean's hand is on the small of your back, the watch on his wrist is still and unticking, and you're walking down the same road with the same landmarks and the same gravel because you want to. you've moved from your old spot on the pavement because you want to. you're learning how to love the sound of your own footsteps, how to love the action of one foot infront of the other, and the best part is, Jean's learning too.

loving isn't a reciprocal or a transaction or a grand 'aha!' it's an act of hope. hoping they'll see you the same. hoping they'll have the same hopes as you. hoping they'll want to be loved by you, because hope doesn't require anything grand, hoping doesn't require a god to pray to or a cost to pay. it requires soft, undettered, unsaid patience. something jean, persistently, had. something you, stubbornly, held.

you paused from brushing your teeth to look at your love. you were wearing his old t-shirt that had faint stains of ink and old paint on it, and he was donning the headband you had owned for years to keep his hair out of his face. he glances at you through the mirror, then turns to you, nodding to you, eyebrows arching in a question.

you spit out the toothpaste into the sink. looking back to him, you say, with all the conviction and hope you can muster up, "I want to move in with you."

jeans mouth turns upwards, still full of toothpaste. he doesn't say anything. he doesn't need to say anything.

everything's already been said, already been understood.

because he knows you. and he couldn't be more happier to.

(when you pick the curtains for your new home, you are held up by jean, who's hands grasp the ladder you're on. you're looking down on him after the work is done and he's smiling, and you're smiling, and at night you're using the same stove to make the same dinner that the two of you will share along with some old wine and old stories. he holds you when you fall asleep, and your arms are around his torso as he snores softly. your love is stored in the blood of his veins. his love is stored in the palm of your hands, and even if you don't hold it, it still stays there, unmoving, growing, attached.)

✿

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x you #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #jean kirschtein

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underoossss · 2 years

Text

I’m here – s.h

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: when you have an accident, steve comes to the rescue, bathing you in comfort and soothing your worries without a second thought. in other words good old hurt/comfort goodness.

warnings: mention of injury though nothing is descriptive. maybe the cheesy title needed a warning too.

an: im on my knees begging that this shows up in the tags, i’ve tried everything. Anyways, im back after my writers blog to deliver softness and cute fics again. Enjoy! and let me know if you like this, reblogs are always helpful🥺

Masterlist

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Sock-clad feet glide on the hardwood floor of the hallway as the Saturday sunlight streams through the windows. You turn up the volume of your radio, dancing and bobbing your head to your Duran Duran cassette. It is a universal truth that listening to music while you do chores will not only make you productive, but it will make the tasks more bearable. So Girls on Film floods the first floor of the house as you take the newly dry clothes to the kitchen to fold later. You sing along to the lyrics while you do the dishes and proceed to make something to eat. There are fresh groceries in the fridge, which you got yesterday, and you take out everything you need to make a club sandwich.

You’re so distracted while preparing and eating your food, that you don’t realize time has escaped you suddenly. The clock says its 1:15pm, and you promised Max you’d go skateboarding with her that afternoon –she’s supposed to be here in 30 minutes and you’re still not ready. “Shit.” You say, chewing the rest of your sandwich as fast as you can.

You rush through everything after that: shoving things back in the fridge, leaving your dish to wash later, and running upstairs with armfuls of unfolded clothes to throw on your parents’ bed to be folded later. They’re away for the next five days, so they won’t mind –if you remember to fold them before they get back. You spot your favorite tank top, a lovely deep green one, in the middle of the pile and grab it before you go to your bedroom. Some light washed jeans, the tank top, new socks, and converse and you’re ready to go.

A second later, the doorbell rings, announcing Max’s arrival. “Coming!” You yell over the music, which you then turn off.

Max stands on your porch, her skateboard under her arm. She has her hair braided into two pigtails and her freckles are standing out more than ever with the fierce sunlight outside. “Hey.” She says, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, I just need my skateboard.” You tell her, then go back inside to search the living room’s closet for it. “Aha! Now I’m ready.”

Locking the front door behind you, the two of you skate down the road to the old Hawkins skate park. It is near your house –roughly five blocks– and because Max says the new one is always crowded, the two of you have made it a habit to use the old one instead. It’s not old perse, it just not as fancy as the new one.

“I learned this new trick I have to show you.” Max says proudly, a grin lighting up her features.

“A new trick? Where?” You ask her, pushing at the ground with your foot to gain more speed.

“I saw some boys do it the other day, and I think I got it down now.” She explains, glancing at you for a second before chuckling. “I think I can do it even better than them.”

“Oh, I bet.” You smile, “I need to learn it then, so we can outskate them.”

Sure enough Max starts to teach you the new trick immediately after you reach the skate park. She mentions it might be called a heelflip but she’s unsure, the boys she copied from were far enough that she couldn’t catch everything they said.

“Basically,” Max says. “You jump and use your right foot to flip the board, and land on it once it turns back around.”

The redhead demonstrates, failing at the first try but getting it right by the second. You watch her do the trick five more times, trying to memorize the way she moves her feet before and after she jumps. Once you’re sure you understand what you have to do, you begin to practice, which leads you to one, two, three, and several other failed attempts.

With your frustration beginning to increase, you huff and nod to yourself in determination. “This time for sure.” You tell no one in particular.

You push the ground with your foot and skate a few feet before you try to flip the board again, only to make a terrible mistake immediately after. Just as you think you managed to successfully flip and land on your skateboard, your left foot lands too close to the rear-edge of the board and you fall backwards. The weight of your body falls on your left arm, and thankfully not your head, but an intense pain overwhelms you for a second, making your ears ring. The ache doesn’t pass and instead stays in your arm, and you lie on the ground, your left side touching the hot cement. You try to move it, so you can sit up, but you find that you can’t; it only makes more pain shoot up from your arm to the rest of your body.

“Fuck!” You curse out from gritted teeth, your face contorted in pain as you roll to your back and sit up. You clutch your left arm close to your body as best as you can without injuring it more. “Fuck, shit, ouch, dammit.”

Max rushes to your side in a second, kneeling in front of you to see what happened. “What happened?” Her blue eyes are wide with worry as she sees you hold your arm and squeeze your eyes shut. “Your arm?”

“I think I broke it, Max. I can’t move it.” You say, taking deep breaths and looking into her eyes. The distress in her own is obvious, so you swallow back the pain and say in a calm voice. “We have to go back home.”

Max nods but still glances worriedly at your arm, “We need to get you to the hospital.”

You whimper in pain and nod even though the very thought of going to the hospital makes you nauseous. You hate hospitals, you’re terrified of doctors and any sort of procedure. “I know. Just help me stand up, we need to call Steve.”

The redhead holds the back of your right elbow gently and wraps her arm around your waist to hoist you up. You exhale shakily as another shock of pain shoots up your arm while Max grabs both of your skateboards –she holds one under each arm and walks next to you. The walk to the house is silent, with you focusing on everything else around you besides the pain, and Max burning a hole in your skin as she looks at you.

“I’m so sorry, this is my fault.” She says.

“Max, it’s not your fault. No one could have known that I would fall, I didn’t think I’d fall.” You shake your head instantly, then look at her worried face. “Please, don’t beat yourself up about this.”

She nods silently, worrying at her bottom lip nervously. “We’re almost back.”

You look up ahead and notice she’s right. Your house can be seen in the distance, and it makes relief wash over your features. Shade, water, and a phone to call your boyfriend. They’re all so close but the last feet to reach the house feel like insurmountable task. It’s like each step breaks your arm again and again; by the time you give Max your keys and step through the front door, your forehead is covered in sweat and tears threaten to spill from your eyes.

“Call Steve, I’ll get you some water.” Max tells you, leaving the skateboards out of the way and disappearing into the kitchen.

You walk to the yellow phone that’s propped in the hallway’s wall –an inconvenience every day but you can’t bring yourself to complain now– and dial the number you memorized two years ago, picking up the headset with your right hand. Your body aches, and you feel exhaustion creep up on you as the phone rings.

Steve picks up the phone on the third ring, his voice a soothing sound to your ears. “Hello?”

“Hey Stevie.” You say into the headset; your face is a grimace, but your voice is light as air. “How are you, baby?”

“Missing you,” Steve grumbles on the other line. “And jealous that Mayfield has a whole day with you. Wait, aren’t you supposed to be skating?”

“Yeah….” You chuckle but the movement makes you flinch and whimper. “About that.”

Max, who returned with the glass of water, sighs exasperated. She fights you momentarily for the headset, with an unfair advantage of not being in pain, and uses it to deliver the news to Steve. “Yeah, she broke her arm.”

You imagine Steve is asking What?! In a tone of disbelief and worry.

“Y/N broke her arm, we’re at her house and need to get to the hospital.” She says, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head at you when you frown at her bluntness. It seems like the initial shock from your injury has worn off, and now she has a resolute look in her face. “You have to come pick us up.”

“Tell him not to speed. If he does, I’m walking to the hospital. We don’t need another accident.” You tell her even as another wave of pain washes over you. You didn’t want to get Steve so worried he’ll go over the speeding limit, but with the way Max dumped the news on him… he’s more than likely to.

You hear Max tell him this and nod her head and whatever Steve says on the other line before she passes the headset back to you. “He’s coming.” She tells you as you press the headset into your ear.

“Baby.” Steve says, so softly and comforting to your ears that you fight back tears. Your eyes squeeze shut to keep from crying; the next breath you take is shaky.

“I need you.” You mumble, taking another deep breath to keep your voice steady. “Drive safely.”

“I’ll be there in 10. Hang on, okay?” You can hear Steve’s keys jingle on the other end of the line, and you nod. You know he can’t see you but who cares.

“Okay.”

You hang up a second later and accept the glass of water Max hands you. “Thank you.” You tell her, leaning your head against the wall.

Max nods as her eyes scan your face and her eyebrows meet in the middle. “You’ll be okay soon, let’s go wait on the porch.”

✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶

Steve gets there in 8 minutes, leaves the car on, and rushes to the front door where you and Max wait already. He frowns when he sees you clutch your arm and notices that it’s beginning to bruise. Steve wipes the light sheen of sweat that covers your forehead once he’s in front of you and cradles your cheeks softly in his hands. “Hey, babygirl.”

You exhale shakily when he presses his forehead against yours. His presence is a comfort, his words even more so. “Let’s get you fixed up, okay? You’ll be better in no time.”

“Stevie, I’m scared. I hate hospitals.” You confess to him in a whisper as a rogue tear escapes you. Though you don’t know if it’s from pain, fear, or relief of seeing him. “I don’t want to go.”

“You’re in pain, you have to go. I know it scares you but you got us, okay?.” Steve motions over his shoulder to his car. “Let’s get in the car, beautiful.”

He places a soft kiss to your temple when you nod, before leading you towards his car –left hand on the low of your back. Max opens the door for you, and you slide in while Steve shuts the door close and runs over the drivers’ side. You press the side of your head to the window, the cold glass soothing as you close your eyes.

“Pass me the Flock of Seagulls cassette; they’re all in the pocket in front of you.” Steve asks Max as he pulls away from the driveway. “The colourful one.”

“Yeah, I know which one.” Max says, you can hear the eyeroll in her tone –it makes you smile briefly.

Steve fiddles with the cassette before inserting it into the car’s player. A few seconds later, the first chords of I Ran begin to play, filling the car with music. “There you go, baby.” Steve says, putting his right hand on your thigh and rubbing your skin softly with his thumb. “You love their songs.”

You move to look at him— he’s got that worried pinch between his brows despite the smile he’s giving you. The sun makes his hair turn a honey colour, and his white t-shirt turns a shade of yellow as sunlight reflects off the dashboard and onto him. You’re in so much pain you can’t even appreciate how well this outfit look on him. He’s so handsome, he’s also trying very hard to keep it together for you, and you love him so much.

“I do.” You mumble, smiling softly at him. “Thank you, Stevie.”

Minutes later you’re being led to the emergency room by Steve and Max, where nurses take over despite their protests. You can’t help but feel anxious, and in more pain, as you’re pulled away from them. Your heartbeat picks up every time the nurse touches you, and your eyes tear up when she checks your arm –her touch is careful but your arm hurts so much that it feels like she’s pressing hard on your skin. She takes your vital signs and tells you to sit down in a bed until the doctor arrives.

You nod and try to swallow but your throat keeps tightening. “Can my boyfriend come keep me company, please?” Your voice sounds breathless as you speak. “I’m feeling very anxious and he’s the one who always knows what to do.”

Maybe it’s the tone in which you speak, or your anxiousness written too plainly on your face, but the nurse nods silently and leaves. You hear hurried footsteps immediately after. Steve’s hair is a mess as he steps through the door, and you’re so glad to see him you slouch where you sit. Though the movement makes you knock your elbow with your thigh, and you wince in pain.

“Careful, baby.” Steve tells you quietly, approaching you and holding your free hand. “I’m here, the nurse said you asked for me.”

“Stevie,” You shake your head. “I got anxious and lonely. I–I needed you.”

“And I’m here.” Steve reassures you, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’m staying right here, okay?”

“Thank you.” You nod weakly, looking into the lovely brown color of his eyes as he kisses your knuckles repeatedly. “The nurse said a doctor is coming soon.”

As if summoned by your words, the doctor arrives and crosses the threshold of the room to stand by your bed. He’s a short man with black rimmed glasses, greying buzz-cut hair, and deep frown lines on his forehead. The tag on his white coat says doctor Dennison, and he introduces himself by the same name a second later.

“I’ve just talked to the nurse. From what she tells me, we need to take an x-ray of your arm.” He says, talking your injured arm gently in his hands and examining it by touch. “You can’t move it?”

“No, it hurts too much if I try.” You say as you wince when he touches the muscle below your elbow. Your fingers squeeze Steve’s hand tightly; you worry whether you’re hurting him.

“Looks like the fracture is here.” He says, touching the place with two careful fingers. “The x-ray will tell us if we’ll need to operate or not.”

You squeeze Steve’s hand in fear this time, and he squeezes right back in reassurance. “Surgery?” Steve asks the doctor, frowning down at your arm. He knows your fear of doctors and knows needing surgery would send you into a nervous frenzy.

“It looks like only one of the forearm bones is broken but I need to see just how much. If the fracture is at two places, we need to stabilize them with surgery, so they heal correctly.” The doctor tells you and Steve. “The good thing is, your arm hasn’t swelled much, so if you don’t need surgery, we can put your arm in a cast today.”

You nod your head, though you feel numb and more anxious than ever; surgery had never crossed your mind. Why did you have to break your arm.

“I’ll have the nurse prep the x-ray room.” The doctor says before he leaves.

“Thank you, doctor.” Steve tells him, then turns back to you. “I’m sure you won’t need surgery baby.”

“What if I do, Stevie.” You whisper, feeling fear try to take you into its clutches. “I’ve never had surgery before… it scares me.”

Steve lets go of your hand for a moment to slide a chair over to your bed, where he sits and offers his hand again. “If you do, you’ll be more than okay, babygirl.”

“How can you be sure?” You ask him as you look into his eyes though tears are threatening to fall down your cheeks and it makes him look blurry.

Your boyfriend kisses you hand again, his lips soft on your skin as he pecks it repeatedly. “Because you’re strong, Y/N. I know this is scary, but I also know you’ve been very brave despite of your fear before.”

Your eyes squeeze shut at his words, and you nod trying to summon that bravery he claims you have. You both survived the upside down, surely that’s scarier than this. “I’ll be okay.” You say more to yourself than to Steve.

“You will.” He reaches up and wipes your tears away with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right here, and I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

You nod again and just then the nurse is back to take you to the x-ray room so you can find out how serious your injury is.

“Go tell Max I’m okay.” You tell Steve before you leave the room. “I’m sure she’s worried.”

Steve nods, and the soft look in his eyes reassures your frantic heart that things will be okay.

✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶

It turns out, that your injury won’t require surgery, like Steve had reassured you.

There’s a nurse putting pain medication into an IV that’s attached to your right arm, while Doctor Dennison looks over your x-ray.

“You’ve got one clean fracture right here.” The doctor points at the broken bone below your elbow. “So once the medication kicks in, I’m going to set it and we’ll place a cast on your arm.”

You nod in understanding and look away from the x-ray, looking at the fracture makes a shiver go down your spine. “Will I get to go home today?” You ask.

The doctor smiles, “Of course. Once you get the cast, we’ll immobilize your arm with a sling and you’re ready to go.”

“Thank God.” Steve says, rubbing his face with his hands –the first time since you talked to him earlier that he’s shown worry. All the tension in his body leaves him at once when he smiles at you. “Told you.”

Now in less pain than before, and calmer, you smile back at him. He’s reassured you all afternoon, it’s your turn. “I know.”

Though the process is painless and simple, you cling to Steve’s hand when the doctor makes sure your bone is in the right place and proceeds to put the cast on your arm. It goes from your wrist to just above your elbow, immobilizing your left for the next 8 weeks. You smile down at it once you’re given the all-clear by the nurse, knowing the kids, Robin, and Eddie will doodle all over it once they find out what happened. Then, there’s paperwork to sign and pain medication to get for the next five days as prescribed by the doctor –which Steve insists on getting (and you insist on paying back, to no avail). But soon enough you’re reuniting with Max in the waiting room, Steve’s left hand on the small of your back and his right holding a white plastic bag.

“All done.” You tell Max with a reassuring smile. “Sorry for making you wait so long.”

The redhead glances out the automatic doors to see the sky turn orange as the sun begins to set, –it was high in the sky when you first arrived. “I didn’t notice.” She shakes her head. “Are you feeling better now?”

You nod your head. “I’m just tired.”

“Come on let’s get you home then.” Steve mutters against your temple before placing a kiss there.

“Can I drive?” Max asks Steve, sounding hopeful.

“Absolutely not.” Steve tells her and you smile.

Their bickering and the rest of the Flock of Seagulls cassette fill the car on the drive away from the hospital. The air feels calmer with everyone less anxious than before, and you’re in between falling asleep and looking at the pretty pink sky out of the window. Steve drops Max off at her place, and she promises to visit you tomorrow morning, to which you nod with a smile and tell her you’ll be waiting. A short ride later, you’re back at your house, with Steve opening the door for you and leading you inside.

“Finally.” You sigh, moving so you’re standing in front of Steve and can lean your forehead against his shoulder. “I hate hospitals.”

“I know.” Steve whispers, his arms going around your waist carefully.

“Stevie…”

“Yeah, baby?” He takes one step back to look at you, dipping his chin to his chest to meet your eyes.

“Don’t go.” You whisper, eyes glancing at your feet then back to his face. “I don’t want you to go.”

Your heartbeat is drumming loudly in your ears as your right hand holds Steve’s forearm. You have five more days alone in your house, now with a broken arm, and though your parents have left in other occasions, it feels different this time. It makes you anxious at the thought of being alone, after a day at the hospital you feel on edge.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” Steve smiles, bringing one of his hands to hold your cheek. You melt with his touch, head tipping to the side to get more of it. “I was going to ask you if I could stay the rest of the week.”

You think about how there’s already enough of his clothes in your drawers for him to stay over and nod your head. Your eyes open and focus on his. “Of course, you can.”

“Let me take care of you, okay?” He drops his forehead against yours while he whispers. “What do you need baby, name it.”

You hum and close your already heavy eyes. “A shower, the leftovers in the fridge, and 10 hours of cuddling.”

Steve smiles, bringing his smile over your lips as he dips his head. “I can do that.” His lips brush against yours as he speaks, and you smile.

“And a kiss?” You add moving your hand from his forearm to the back of his neck slowly.

“Always. All of them, anytime you want.” He says before closing the gap small gap between you.

You’re unable to hold back the sigh that leaves your lips at the kiss and you’re mindful of your arm as you lean your body closer to Steve’s. He is warm against you, gentle in the way he holds your face but not as much as he kisses you. His kisses are needy, a firm pressure against yours, and you can relate to what he’s feeling. It’s been a long and stressful day, one that’s taken a toll on you and, on top of keeping you from sharing a single kiss, most likely worried Steve more than he let show. You feel your body humming with love, your fingertips tingling with it; the wholesome feeling of Steve’s affection, soothing and curing every worry and discomfort you shoved back throughout the day. He pulls back after a few minutes and presses his nose to the side of yours while he keeps you close.

“I love you.” He whispers. “You were so brave today.”

“I love you.” You mumble against this lips, unable to stop yourself from placing a couple of kisses over his bottom lip. “I was terrified, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“I always got you, babygirl.” Steve says kissing you softly one more time.

“Can you help me shower?” You ask him even though you know he’ll say yes. “I don’t know how I’ll manage to wash my hair with one arm like this.”

Steve follows your eyes down to your cast before he looks back at you. “You don’t even have to ask. Besides, I gotta make sure you don’t get your cast wet.”

You nod your head. “There’s plastic bags in the kitchen, I think that’ll help?”

“I’ll grab them. You head over to the shower okay, beautiful? I’ll be right there.” Steve leaves a lingering kiss on your lips before disappearing into the kitchen while you stare at his retreating figure, wondering how you got so lucky.

✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington hurt/comfort #stranger things #joe keery #joe keery x reader #steve harrington story #steve harrington blurb #boyfriend steve harrington

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most-definitively-a-human · 4 months

Text

AHA. Take that tired brain. Have figured out a way to support Palestine despite it all. Email templates. Have not figured out how to email British BBC to stop Eurovision support but did figure out how to email Bailey's

If you also have a wonky brain which doesn't let you do things: here is a document with email templates. Hopefully it helps.

Many ways to support Palestine even if you don't understand. It's okay if you can't understand. You're not useless, and despair does nothing. Saying this because I almost fell into trap of "can't remember can't learn what's the point what can I do?"

It's easy to reblog misinformation though so be careful. You are not obligated to reblog things you don't understand even if they're important. It's alright. Misinformation spreads very quickly because of attitudes like that. You don't have to reblog this if you don't want to and this applies to all other things.

Recommend focusing on tangible ways to help because it's a lot harder to spread misinformation that way. That's what my focus is on currently because I don't think I'll be very good at anything else. E.G:

Esims help people in Gaza communicate and share their situation so they're not ignored. This website has clear instructions on what to do. Have donated three times. Hope the esims were useful.

Another way to help. Daily click on arab.org turns ad revenue into donations for UNWRA, a charity that helps Palestine.

Ask for advice and more details under the cut.

Reblogging on main account because it has more reach. Would appreciate advice helping me figure out how to email local broadcaster. Sorry if this is long/rambling don't know how to fix it.

The link to Bailey's is at the bottom of the email list. It took me a minute to figure out the subject line. I just put Eurovision. Hopefully that's clear enough.

Would greatly appreciated support with the other email parts. It says to contact local broadcaster - does that mean it's a bad idea to message the other places? Can't figure out how to send the UK email.

Wish I could give clearer instructions to actually help people in fellow brainweird situations do things. I hate being tired like this all the time. Could someone please give clear advice on what can be done if you have a brain that doesn't work well or remember much? Both for me and other people. Would be greatly useful and appreciated.

For context: I am too tired to play Minecraft. It is too difficult. Yes even with keepinventory. Please keep advice in mind to that. (As in - please please keep simple and actionable) (struggling to explain other than) (can't understand/comprehend basic videogames at the moment please give advice to that level) (really want to help but won't be able to if the advice isn't to that level) (does that make sense?)

#palestine #eurovision #free palestine

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itspyon · 6 months

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hi this is a genuine question and not a hint pf negativity, just simply asking. i started following some people and some have “drolo” or “dnfolo” in their pinned posts and i usually on twitter that means that they hate every other person (like, including sapnap if they say they’re dnfolo and drolos hate bot george and sapnap) and i was wondering if it’s the same here? because i saw a lot of people like that and is it just like that because they actually hate one or two people from dteam or is it just the same as saying they’re “smiletwt”? sorry for the long ask but i really don’t understand and i would rather not follow someone who hates some of the boys but i’m also afraid to ask on these blogs in case they think i spread negativity/calling them out or something. thanks!

aha you have encountered the olos

you're going to have to go in and figure it out, because for the majority of people it's a joke, or an indicator of "i really just talk about this". and then it isn't for others and queue the neg and ****blr associations

nowhere near as much of a red flag as it is on twitter. and even then, if you follow someone bad, or someone bad interacts with you, people will tell you ! it's very common for people to go through likes and reblogs, they'll let you know

just scroll through a few posts, look up the boy's names on the account ( yes there's an option to look through the account for specific words ) and make your own judgement. nobody will cancel you for accidentally following a bad person

#pyon askies #pyon guide2tumblr

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pebiejeebies · 8 months

Text

ISNT IT FUNNY? - Poll below.. read warnings please.

TW: Curse words, Full caps, Vent/Rant (I got very angry here.. sorry)

(If you are sensitive to the topic of LGBT, Alterhumanity, Vents/Rants, please do not read.)

Before you read, understand that most of what I say is an example, nothing more, nothing less. And I support and love Alterhumanity and LGBTQ+ equally, no more, no less. And If I worded something wrong, do tell!

Im glad to hear you two aren’t actually mad at me.. (Talking specifically to @chocolatespyro and @thelittleprinceconfirmed , but this is for everyone, don’t leave yet!)

I kinda feel like a little child or something— you know, for telling me I’m not wrong.. hah.. but eitherway thank you both for explaining what’s right and wrong, I “sorta” thought I did like a HUUGGGEE horrible thing so like I took a moment alone for a bit, then I came back to your very calm words.

I’m never used to people talking to me so.. nicely, (especially in a sensitive topic like this) that’s why I might fuck up and say I messed up even though I had the complete right to speak. (Which shows in my “apology” post, I literally deleted everything cause I thought it was a stupid idea to talk about)

Sigh, I guess since it’s fine from the both of you, I guess I can talk about it again. Honestly thank you for comforting me and such. I expected WAAAAAAYYYY worse.. (haha trauma go brrr) but yeah, back onto the topic.

(THIS IS THE START OF THE TOPIC IF UR UNINTERESTED IN WHAT I SAY FOR THEM <;3)

The topic (if you didn’t know) was basically about how people reacted towards LGBTQ+ and Alterhuman coming out situations..

(I think if you go to my profile and use #my polls you might find a broken and messy reblog of it, cause I deleted the text/poll aha..)

Let’s do an example, shall we? (NO HATE TOWARDS LGBT. JUST AN EXAMPLE)

We all love it when we hear the appreciation posts say: “Be who you are! Never hide your true colors! Show yourself to the world! Never be scared to shine!” And so on.. but why do I feel like it’s mostly aimed for humans (aka LGBT), not Alterhumans.. (IK THERE ARE APPRECIATION POSTS FOR THEM/GEN)

If an Enby came out to their parents, (like in America or a country that supports lgbt) there’s a good chance they’d be supported by their parents, or friends, or both! (WHICH IS VERY GOOD, DONT TAKE IT THE WRONG WAY!)

But alterhumanity has an issue with that, (Still in America or a country similar to it) if I ever said to my parents that I was a therian and a fictkin, they’d either laugh thinking I’m joking or smth, or they’d think I’m out of my religion for being an Alterhuman (WHICH IS COMPLETELY UNREALISTIC! SEARCH IT UP!) I researched so much for a good week or two, learning about therianthropy and fictkinity, and it doesn’t even affect your religion! Satanist? You can be a Alterhuman! Christian? You can still be Alterhuman! Etc etc..

It is an Identity, you identify as an Alterhuman, just like how you would identify as a part of the LGBT!

(Keep in mind that I know what LGBTQ+ people go through, and I’m so proud of them for fighting back all this horrible hate)

Back to the main issue, which was the “Coming out” issue. like I said earlier, if you came out as an enby you’d most likely get good treatment, like flags around pride month, and freedom of expression! (And Like hearing people use your pronouns, which probably feels so great <3)

Now let’s look at alterhumanity.. If I wore a tail or ears out in the public.. will I get the feeling of “Be who you are! Never hide your true self!” In those painful stares of disgust and shame? If I ever hissed “accidentally” in public, wouldn’t they just make fun of me? (Which.. sadly happened once.. never again.) and so on..

What’s my point you say?

LET. EVERY. CREATURE. EXPRESS. THEMSELVES.

Where is the equality everyone talks about?! Have you seen how much HATE VIDEOS of THERIANS, OTHERKINS, AND SUCH?! It’s RIDICULOUS.

It only infuriates me because you (not targeted dw) say “Be who you are! Never hide! Show yourself to the world” then go all “What the fuck are you wearing.. are you a cat boy?! Cringe asf..” or “You do know ur human right?” OR ONE OF THE MOST INFURIATING THINGS TO SAY TO US “You wanna get treated like wild animals? I’ll get my shotgun and hunt you down lolol”

Aaahhaha funny indeed! (I might be overthinking again, sorry)

You don’t see enbys (NOT TARGETED. ITS AN EXAMPLE) Get called “You know you’re human right?” Yet every day (not literally) I see a new post on therianthropy hate, mocking of them walking on all 4s or showing their beautiful howls/roars/meows/squaks.. etc etc.. (This sort of happens to furries as well, they are so misunderstood. </3)

It’s frustrating when I show myself to this world after they ASSURE me and TELL ME ITS FINE.

then all I get is a

mocking

stare

DISGUST.

even after they say “I’ll never judge you”

(Take a moment to breathe, and think about this so far, I don’t want you to get tired because of me, <3)

Sigh. I guess this accidentally turned into a vent/rant (since I was more comfortable talking about it.. makes sense I guess)

Now, the thing you (probably) came here for.. The Poll.

(Be a little more detailed in your opinion please and explain if ur talking to me or not/gen, and please reblog/nf so more people can vote/nfnfnf)

Thank you for voting/reading (I like looking at statistics, that’s why I made a poll btw.)

Here, have a cookie for being so patient!

🍪

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spicyicymeloncat · 2 years

Text

Aww yes, it’s a DTIYS

(This is a repost because the tags might be broken and I’m testing whether it was just that post or something)

Yee thanks for 300 followers :]!! I've always had fun doing other people's dtiys, and I wanted to do one of my own!!

(Sorry if the colours are too bright, I'm putting a desaturated edit under the cut as well as a version without the background)

~~~

There will be prizes for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd places (and potentially drawing requests for any runners up!)

1st - fully shaded drawing of an oc or characterof your choice (doesn't have to be Ninjago)

2nd and 3rd (they get same prize bc yeah) colored drawing of an oc or character of choice (doesn't have to be Ninjago)

(Further details will be discussed with winners, warning, I'm not sure how fast l'Il do the rewards so we'll see how it goes )

~~~

Deadline is 26th of October - so two weeks from now!

(Might change depending on what happens lol)

~~~

Tag with #spicyicydtiys300 in submissions and just to be safe @me also. If I don't reblog ur post in 2 days pls msg me!!

~~~

Feel free to be as creative as you like, and have fun!!!

~~~

Explanation on the actual drawing + extra images below cut

Low saturated version and non background versions.

~~~

So the image is from my Ninjago s11 rewrite, and if you're confused by the plant pot then I suggest checking the end of this post (read from corruption). That was totally not a shameless ploy to lure you into my rewrite aha, but I thought the dtiys should be relevant to something on le blog!

I don't think there's an easy way of explaining the plant plot apart from reading the rewrite, but essentially, in the rewrite, Zane is fully conscious when becoming the ice emperor, but after experiencing a lot of emotional turmoil, he resorts to trying to keep him and everyone safe by freezing everyone and have their consciousness roam an empty void in their minds. Zane's innocent feelings are here, whilst the ice emperor acts as a cold exterior shell that hunts for other people in the realm to "protect". The plant pot holds a frosted over sapling for a traveller's tree, which Zane had been tending to inside his mind (and it's like a metaphor for spring or something). Yeah!

#this is a repost #spicyicydtiys300 #ohhhhh boy bc tumblr doesn’t allow to select all the text at once on a post I had to screen shot and select from there #and then remove the extra lines #tedious #ninjago #lego ninjago #art #fanart #digital art #dtiys #ninjago dtiys #Ninjago zane #ninjago ice emperor #300 followers #tw: bright colors #tw bright colors

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finalgirlsamwinchester · 2 months

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what are your thoughts on samruby?

thank you for sending this! and OH BOY i wrote a lot. i'm so sorry. i'm putting it under a cut for everyone's sanity.

see, the thing about samruby to me is the religiosity of it all. it's about a victim unknowingly initiated into a cult. it's about a holy lamb being raised for slaughter.

firstly i can't discuss it without spilling my guts over ruby as a character!! i saw a meta the other day (and i wish i'd reblogged it bc i can't find it again) calling ruby the most devout character in supernatural. and they're right! she is! her arc is about devotion and keeping faith. she's a direct narrative foil to cas, who falls down the path of doubt and experiences a crisis of faith. For ruby, her god is lucifer, and she'll accept all persecution and undergo every trial she has to in order to fulfil her mission as his servant. and she does! she succeeds up to her death! (whereas cas fails, and lives)

she doesn't see grooming and manipulating sam as an act of corruption. it's about purification. (and we all know how sam feels about purity, aha) for ruby, the demon blood drinking is a matter of cleansing sam of human imperfection, for the purposes of presenting lucifer his ideal vessel. because the thing about sam is that he's a liminal figure. he's as human as he is monstrous - and from a demonic perspective, wouldn't his humanness be considered the infection?

the way ruby preys on sam also has a definite maternal tilt to it. from as early as s3 (like the way she says 'that's my boy!' to him in 3x04? like dean does in 1x11?). she calls him 'sammy' in a way that mirrors dean, but also evokes maternal warmth. just as dean in season 1 functions as a protector and guide for sam when he brings him back into the hunting fold, ruby does so for sam in dean's absence. sam's grief and vulnerability presents her an opportunity to take on the role of carer and mentor. she'll teach him how to use his powers! she'll guide him in what he needs to do, while he's so lost in his own suffering. sure she provides warmth and affection - but more importantly, she directs sam towards a mission, a cause for good.

she's an incredible character to pair off with sam, a character full of hope and belief that his faith might amount to something (i'm thinking of the start of s11 here - sam desperate to believe his prayers are being answered by god. only to discover it was lucifer all along) he wants to be like joan of arc - he wants the voice of heaven commanding and guiding him along a path of heroism. it's his hope and faith that make him vulnerable.

ruby takes on sam like she's a cult recruiter preying on a victim! like if you go through the stages of cult indoctrination: deception (check! she tricks him into breaking the final seal by killing lilith!), isolation (check! sam having to keep his activities w ruby a secret, driving a wedge between him and dean, eventuating in their separation), induced dependency (check! a blood addiction!). by the end of it, he's left abandoned by his loved ones, alone and entirely reliant on her and the purpose she's given him.

but luckily - sam is a character who hates being controlled above all else, so he does not have his Midsommar (2019) May Queen moment. even when he does let lucifer in, he does so as a sleeper agent. he holds onto his independent spirit to the end :")

tldr; ruby loves sam as a devotee loves their holy mission. sam begrudgingly accepts ruby, not as the divine guidance he wants, but the only one that'll speak to him.

#samruby #the other day i was thinking. oh sam is the kinda character who WOULD accidentally get drawn into a cult #but then writing this post. you fool!! that's literally what happened in canon w. samruby and the demon blood arc!#i could write a giant essay on sam + purity + demon blood drinking + martyrdom...but that's a different post...#(also big sidebar: can we also talk about how sam and cas are mirrors of one another. their parallel struggles w faith and goodness)#dean is excluded from this convo bc he is in fact. a hard and fast atheist. god bless #a man so full of doubt he causes an angel to fall lmaooo #my meta #asks #j.txt

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ethereal-engene · 1 year

Text

TXT & Anime Cons

pairing: bf!txt x fem!reader

genre: fluff & slice-of-life // warnings: brief mentions of hate and creepy men

summary: how I think the members of TXT would be if you took them to an anime convention // word count: 1957

note: I got to attend an anime con this year (2022) and it was so crazy good! I struggled not to splurge so much 😭 (so many cool small business and creators) Enjoy and please reblog/leave feedback if you liked it!

soobin

oh mannnn, THIS GUY OH BOY

Y’all already know he loves anime so much

When you invited him to attend a con with you, he was beyond excited

He’s always wanted to go to one ever since he got into anime

Plus something tells me he also has been wanting a reason to buy a cosplay outfit but didn’t have an excuse to buy one

Bonus, he wants to do a couple cosplay with you 🥰

Best boy soobin yall

Obviously you agree and now he’s x10 more excited to go with you

On the day of, he’s up before you and wearing the cosplay

along with packing things you guys might need while y’all there

when you finally wake up and are ready, he drags you to the car

you guys get there safely and check-in

walking in, y’all walk around admiring all of the artists & cosplayers

he’s kind of shy but you know which cosplayers he’d like to take pictures with

so you end up asking for him

if they say yes then you’re the one snapping pictures of him

it’s really cute and cool seeing all of these cosplayers come out

especially with cosplayers from jjk

they never fail to amaze you with how they made them or how long it took to make them

anyhow continuing to seeing all of the booths

Soobin looks at the things with stars in his eyes

you both struggle not to overspend

emphasis on struggle

all I will say is you two walk out with either a bunch of art work or wearable merch

the overall experience 10/10

───°˖✧✿✧˖° ───

yeonjun

takes a deep breath in

y’all know yeonjun isn’t into anime but after begging & messing with him, he says yes

you cannot tell me that yeonjun isn’t one to get jealous or slightly possessive over you

like imagine telling him about the weird creeps at the cons and such

that’s all he needs to hear before agreeing to go with you

unfortunately your tactics can only get you so far

apparently not enough to get him to wear a couple cosplay with you

so he’ll opt for dressing stylishly (as he does)

on the morning of the con, he sees you all dolled up in your cosplay

manz might not know too much but he loves seeing you all dressed up

he knows how long you’ve been wanting for cons to start up since the pandemic

yeonjun stares at your confident smile and body language that screams excitement

it’s like you were made to shine for this moment

now he’s just staring at you the way you stare at him when he’s performing

this is his little aha moment as to why you love going to anime cons and doing cosplay now

before you two head out, he can’t help but make you do an impromptu photoshoot

he just wants to show off to everyone how cool you are

after that, you guys head there and he’s not going to lie

it is quite chaotic and overstimulating but he gets used to it

learning to stay close to you or else he’ll get lost

every few minutes, someone will ask to take a picture with you

you’ll say yes and have yeonjun take the picture

he’ll be on edge as he knows some people like to get a too comfortable and start to pull inappropriate moves

if or when he catches someone, he’ll tell them off and that’s the end of the story

moving on, because he doesn’t fully understand the appeal of anime yet he’s just following you around like a puppy

you find it cute and squeeze his hand as a thanks for coming with you

he does appreciate all of the artists out here having their own spot and what they make

while of course he’s a performer, he knows how to appreciate all forms of art

every so often, he has to drag you away from a stand because he knows you’d give all of your money to them

he does end up bumping into a couple of MOAs and they’re surprised to see him here

given that yk he’s not into anime but then he points to you

to which you shyly wave hi and greet them

at the end of the con, with the things that you bought

Yeonjun is holding them and slightly complaining but we all know he doesn’t really mean it

if he could, he’d be the one spoiling you all day and every day

Yeonjun’s rating: a 7/10

───°˖✧✿✧˖° ───

beomgyu

I have no idea if beomgyu likes anime but he gives me vibes that he’s a subtle lover of it

he’d definitely couple cosplay with you

okay okay b/c I am biased to wolf cut and highlight beomgyu

I’m going to give him the cosplay of Miyamura from horimiya

LIKE COME ON?? he’d rock that cosplay

anyhow, he likes it a lot because the costume is subtle but still cosplay yk?

you and beomgyu have an entire photoshoot before and during the con

oh, I forgot to mention it probably doesn’t take a lot out of you to convince him to go with you

he loves seeing you all excited and happy, so if going with you makes you happy then what else more does he need to hear?

when you guys get to the convention, you have to make sure you’re the one not losing beomgyu

for some reason, he gives off the type of person to befriend anyone

knowing that, you turn around a couple of times when you’re walking to ensure he is there

unfortunately you still manage to lose sight of him

one second you’re holding hands together and he’s behind you

the next, he’s talking to someone about their cosplay and getting to know about their character

luckily, gyu is never too far from you

it’s actually kind of cute watching him interact with them

omg naurrr it’s even cuter when he interacts with little kids all decked out

the way he gives his undivided attention to them and seeing their eyes shine as they talk about their cosplay

you can’t help but giggle and snap videos of it to tease him about it later

eventually you approach them and join them in their conversations

and watching them connect the dots that you two are a couple and doing a cosplay together

it blows their minds and running up to their parents to share their findings

truly impossible not to curl up into a ball right then and there

just as you find him interacting with kids cute, he thinks that you’re even cuter around them

moving onnnn, he doesn’t have to make sure you don’t overspend or at least he doesn’t think so

and besides it is your money and life so who is he to stop you from spending your own money

THATS MF RIGHT YALL GET YOU A MAN LIKE BEOMGYU

I feel like Gyu would be interested in seeing people’s performances on stage whether they be musical performances or showing off one’s skills

I can also imagine him walking up to the band performers after their performance to see if they could show a couple chords

and get their info because he thinks that they’re cool

beomgyu’s rating of the experience: 8/10

───°˖✧✿✧˖° ───

taehyun

He’s another member I’m not too sure if he likes anime or not

but I can tell that he would not do a couples cosplay with you <3

he loves you but not that much 🤧

Very much interested/intrigued in the mechanics behind

goes to people who put their everything into the cosplay to hear how they do it

no because I cans see him getting excited over super well done cosplays and looking at you for like permission to go talk to them

he’s so cute what to do and you’re like of course and accompany too

his eyes shine hearing all about the behind the scenes of the cosplay

also gets dope pictures with them because it’s truly amazing

anyways, he likes to explore all of the artists and asking you if you’d like anything from them

bonus points whenever he points out your favorite anime or the characters from a booth

might spoil you a bit lowkey

as cheesy as it sounds but seeing you happy makes him happy

gets the tiniest bit of jealous whenever good looking people start asking to take pictures with you

but then get over it b/c you wouldn’t leave him for them

and yk wears his signature confident smile

sometimes he’ll wear a smirk whenever it’s a really attractive person… because you’re his and not theirs

anywhoooo

he treats you some food there and you’re like he must be a godsend because food do be expensive

after eating, he’ll offer to take some photos for you since you guys didn’t really take any before leaving

you can’t tell me he didnt sneak in a couple of selfies for fun

at the end of the con, you ask him how it was for him

his rating: 7/10 (a point taken off because the food was too expensive 💀)

but would definitely go again to see more cool cosplays

maybe even inspire him to pick up a new hobby

as if he needs to even more talented at something

───°˖✧✿✧˖° ───

hueningkai

goodbye he beat you to asking about going the con first

totally didn’t get upset about it for a few minutes because you had planned out this cute way to ask him 😭

of course you said yes and then proceeded to scream over it because omg you guys are finally going to an anime con

you both talked about going to one when it was safer to go out due to the pandemic

sharing similar music tastes helped get you two together but honestly speaking watching and bonding over anime was the real relationship helper

his soft spot for you doesn’t allow him to say no to re-watching the same (comfort) animes and after re-watching them x number of times, he couldn’t help but fall in love with them too

he and you didn’t even need to ask each other about going as a couple cosplay or not

simply because the answer of course was yes, a million times yes

now the question was who to go as…

something tells me that you two had to make a little presentation about who to go as and why

yk to just spice things a little bit

in the end, he ended up winning </3 (sorry he says while pumping his fist in the air & a smile plastered on his face)

it didn’t take long to get the cosplay, but you two wanted to go the extra mile & add personal touches to it

something also tells me that you guys had a photoshoot before the event to tease people that you guys were going to be there and because y’all felt so cool in cosplay

on the day of the event, as expected y’all run into many fans and have so much talking to them

you’re appreciative of them for being supportive, however there were a few people giving you dirty glances but you brushed it off

there was nothing you could do and besides it wasn’t really a you problem to be dealing with other peoples’ opinion that they had on you

anyhow, you guys definitely splurged

in your defense, they were really cute (I rest my case)

you both had a lot of fun going together and interacting with people

super crazy to see how the shared love for anime brings people together 🥺

hueningkai’s rating: 10/10 (a no brainer rating)

AHHH THANK YOU FOR READING & txt debut fic ✨

I had a lot of fun writing these lil thoughts out and hopefully you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. as always, please reblog (with tags) if you liked it, or send an ask or leave a note :)

take care until next time

signing off

- ash

#kflixnet #underworldnet #soobin x reader #txt x reader #txt hcs #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x you #txt headcanons #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #txt imagine #txt fic #txt fluff #txt x y/n

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