#anyway time to stop rambling in the tags and actually get back to writing

[a-gay-bloodmage]

One of my favorite hobbies to engage in is ignoring the canon course of video game romances

[quatregats]

Thinking a lot of thoughts about Hornblower's relationships with Barbara and Maria as a metaphor for his larger relationship to social mobility and ambition, and I think there's actually a lot there - not sure if it was intentional, but I do think that whether intentionally or inadvertently, Forester did an interesting job with the parallels.

Quick note beforehand that some of this is based on my constant brief paging through C. Northcote Parkinson's Hornblower "biography", which, while I absolutely abhor his interpretation of Hornblower, gives even more food for thought on this point. I'm also leaning more into his interpretation of Hornblower's background and childhood, as opposed to the TV show's, so it might not work if you're coming from the TV show's perspective.

Parkinson takes Forester's comment that Hornblower was a "doctor's son" to mean that he was the son of an apothecary, rather than a physician like in the show. I'm not a historian of the period, so I would be hard-pressed to actually try to fit Hornblower's father within the 18th-century framework of medical practice, but either way, given his awkwardness around upper-class life and that he seems to have grown up in rural Kent, I think that Parkinson's claim that he was the son of an apothecary, rather than a physician, does have some reasonable foundation, or is at least equally plausible (to me) as the show's.

Hornblower struggles with poverty through most of the series, especially the first half, but even when he is barely scraping by, such as at the start of Lieutenant, this does not seem to be an abnormal state; and when he finally arrives at wealth and success, he constantly wishes to go back to the days when he was a penniless lieutenant, so from this we might also surmise that he did not come from wealth. (I'm also comparing especially to Jack Aubrey, who, while he admittedly makes a hash of coming into large amounts of money, and who also lives perfectly happily on very little, is clearly quite comfortable being the "lord of the manor" by comparison.)

One of the biggest changes in the second half of the series (from The Happy Return/Beat to Quarters onward) is that Hornblower's career comes into fruition; he becomes a decorated Captain, a member of the landed gentry, a Knight of Bath, a Peer, and finally an admiral, and marries into an enormously influential family. He's constantly in conflict about this, until he isn't: he wants to become someone powerful and important, except that he doesn't like the role once he gets it, and constantly wishes about the old days, then feels guilty for wishing for them. Most importantly, he seems to become less and less himself, his mental narrative getting more and more distorted as he tries to mold himself into the person he thinks he wants to be.

I don't think this is a particular novel interpretation, but I think that in light of this, the contrast between his marriage to Maria and his marriage to Barbara is very interesting. If he was an apothecary's son, his and Maria's marriage would make a decent amount of sense - they'd be from similar social backgrounds, and probably a reasonable match, if Hornblower's career had continued as expected. Hornblower feels comfortable around Maria at the start of their friendship and the very beginning of their marriage in a way that mirrors his comfort with the life he's living at that point - which is to say that he clearly knows and understands what's expected of him and how to interact, in clear contrast with later books. But on the other hand, for all that he originally does love Maria, Hornblower comes to find her to be coarse, unrefined, and boring, and feel that she is not good enough for the person he wants to become. It's at the point when he starts to feel that he's moved passed Maria that he begins to take on his new, ambitious, performative persona.

On the other hand, Hornblower feels stiff and uncomfortable around Barbara from the beginning of their relationship, notably for reasons of class, and even in later books, consistently sounds intimidated by her poise and upper-class untouchability. With Maria he doesn't feel enough for her; with Barbara he feels too much, an almost uncouth sentimentality. He craves Barbara's status like a man drowning, but can't hold up under the weight of what it would mean. They have very strong intellectual chemistry, but socially they are a disaster of a couple, and yet nonetheless, Hornblower continues with the marriage because it feels to him like the thing he ought to do, just as he ought to become squire of Smallbridge. He's so viscerally uncomfortable with his position in the later books in a way he wasn't even at the height of his earlier miseries, but he refuses to let himself admit that his ambitions might have led him astray.

I think it's also interesting that the relationship which Hornblower arguably finds the most fulfilling (or rather, it was written very poorly if Forester wanted to make it feel fulfilling for the reader, but nonetheless it was clearly meant to be the most fulfilling for Hornblower) is his relationship with Marie, who sits at a similar odd juncture to him. In the text, Forester says outright that Marie fulfills Hornblower's interest in upper-class women (ambition) while not intimidating him, yet still being a satisfying intellectual partner. Nonetheless, just as Marie and Hornblower can never actually end up together, Hornblower can never actually be comfortable with his position, and no matter how many times he tries to find solace in her, he is eventually forced to continue down the path that he began, making up with Barbara and fully taking up the mantle of Admiral and Peer of the Realm.

In short, I think that watching the way in which Hornblower's relationship with Maria evolves over the course of the early books and the way in which his relationship with Barbara takes up after that ends up being a very neat parallel to his own ambitions and class identity. With Maria he is at home, but bored and restless; with Barbara he gets everything that he wants, but feels like a fish out of water. I think that particular parallel is part of the particular tragedy of Hornblower - he can't ever be satisfied with the person he was, or the person he's become. But I think that adding in aspects of extreme class difference - even more class difference than the general trends of social mobility during this period - also helps to elucidate the fundamental tension which drives Hornblower forward as a character. The world he came from was too small for him; the world in which he moves now is far too big; but there's no in-between option. He has to choose what he wants to be, and sacrifice some part of himself in order to do that, and in light of this reading of him, I think that there's a lot of interesting dilemmas to be raised.

[zolo-san]

hey @ people who write long fics/chapter fics: what do you do when you have a fic idea and you've got a lot of good stuff to make up the actual fic, but you don't really have a real ending?

asking for a friend lol

So I don't normally write long fics and I really don't write chapter fics (Like one of my longest posted fics is a little over 14k but most of my stuff averages around 4k) but the Lawlu university AU that has been consuming my brain for the last month or so is an idea that has to be a chapter fic and I have a lot of ideas for it, but I don't have a clear ending point. Most of my fics have always had a very clear and natural end Like I've never really planned the ending out per say, but I just knew when the story I was trying to tell was finished and never had a problem wrapping it up But right now I'm close to finally getting all the ideas I had for this AU down and I don't know that I have a "clear" ending, ya know I know that I don't (at least right now) have much more that I'd like to include in the story, but idk if I can really end it where my ideas/desire to continue the story drops off like idk if it'll feel like a proper end there...........this is also so hard to explain if you're not living in my head and don't know where the planning doc currently ends, so sorry lol

I also have this irrational fear of writing chapter fics Like I get anxious at the implied commitment of it all and dumb things like how long a chapter should be? (I don't believe in filling up stories with filler just for the sake of length, if it's not relevant to the story or character development I generally won't include it - it's the script writer in me >.<) I know there's no real "rules" to how long a chapter "needs" to be and there's no such thing as a chapter being "too short" (this applies for writing in general, but double for fanfic) but it makes me STRESSED that I might not have enough for certain ideas to make a "full" chapter idk why I'm more comfortable with creating a bunch of short fics as part of a series and calling it a day (maybe because there's also no implied "total" amount of chapters even tho ao3 does the 1/? until you mark a chapter fic as complete) I also get anxious because I like the permission series fics feel like they give me to skip large chunks of time and I feel like I can't do that with a chapter fic (again I know there are no "rules" I'm just stressing out for nothing lol) I also just like that with a series I could randomly pick it up and write another piece to go with it on a whim if say, I get another idea out of nowhere after completing the story that I have currently planned (tho I guess there's nothing that stops me from adding a chapter to a fic even after it's marked as complete is there? 🤔) BUT if I were to write it as a series, then I'd have to have a title for every fic and the thought of that makes me want to jump out a window (naming fics is truly the bane of my existence), but with a chapter fic it's one title and I'm done (I also already know what I want the title to be sooooooooo) I can also make a series for the AU and have the chapter fic be a main fic and then have the freedom to write sort of spin-off one-off fics in the same universe for other couples 😈

idk man........I'm having a CRISIS over a fanfiction and something about that is very funny....but still lol Especially because I'm mostly worried about breaking non-existent "rules" idk I think I just have to accept that I'm a little weirdo when it comes to fic writing~

tho I still have the problem of not having a clear ending..........

help i'm going crazy i know none of this matters but still >.>

[sociallyawkwardseal]

Prompt: Fictober Day 1: "That was good work."

Fandom: Lumine

Summary: Camille and Kody have a brief conversation.

Content Warnings: N/A

Words: 1,249

Camille watched a series of bottles shift between Kody’s hands; once the green liquid from one vial had been drained into another, thicker, clear substance, Kody would reach for another, his expression not changing past the subtle twice of his nose as the scents mingled. The green itself spread and fell slowly, as if he had just dropped liquid food dye into watery corn syrup.

“Don’t hesitate,” Camille reminded him, her palm pressed to her cheek. “If you do, it’s going to end up tasting acidic.”

Kody huffed in response, his hands lingering over another tube held in a small wooden rack. “Don’t distract me.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Because you’re distracting me.”

A quiet hum of acknowledgment mingled with amusement caught behind Camille’s now-closed lips as she watched him continue, now more focused than before as he slowly poured half of the liquid in with the mixture.

“What, you’re not gonna get onto me for using too much or too little?” As he spoke, Kody’s bitter gaze flickered up long enough to glance at the other. He slowly reached out for the stirring stick, eyes stuck on Camille as he pulled it closer. “Or you’re not gonna tell me to be careful about how I stir it?”

“Nope, not yet. I’m just waiting and watching now.” Camille smiled a bit, watching as he stirred slowly, almost meticulously. His focus had seemed to double after he grew quiet. “What happened to me not distracting you?”

“If I’m just complaining about you, then I’m not getting distracted. But if you’re interrupting me, then I’m gonna lose focus. How long does this even need to be stirred?”

“Didn’t you read the note I left you?”

“I can’t read Terranian yet, and you left it in Terranian.”

Camille could feel her smile break as he reminded her—though, the only actual change on her expression was a subtle twitch of her lips. Her brain went blank, the only word crossing her mind for a moment being ‘shit’ as she stared at the boy now working silently across from her.

That’s right, you and Sera couldn’t talk at all when you first met her.

“How did you follow the instructions up until now?”

“Eyeballed it. I made something similar before, so, it’s not like it’s a big deal. Plus, it’s not like I even asked you to actually write instructions down for me—I just asked if you had the ingredients.”

“Given how Lumine has talked about how you make your potions… That’s not really reassuring.”

“I knew what I was doing then, too.”

“Did you?”

Kody grew quiet, pulling the stick out as he transferred the syrup-consistency potion into another glass bottle and seal it.

“I didn’t know how it was actually going to react with him, but I knew it wouldn’t kill him. I knew what I put in it, and that nothing in it would mix badly together to be that bad.”

“M-hm. At least there’s that, I guess.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Feels like there should be a ‘usually’ there, Camille said silently, watching Kody put the vial aside and seal the remaining ingredients. You’ve got a long way to go, but. That doesn’t mean you haven’t studied hard already.

“I’ll clean everything up, too. So. Don’t worry about me making things more of a mess than they already are.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get it before I go out today.” Camille waved her hand, watching as Kody pushed himself up. He gathered the emptied and now-dirtied dishes and tools and took them towards the small kitchen. “If you’re going to try and clean up anyway, just drop them off in the sink that’s not by the fridge. It’s the one that’s for anything that isn’t a fruit or vegetable. Potions, meat, whatever.”

“Alright.” Kody did as she instructed, now without any complaint or push-back, and then sat back down across from her. He picked the potion’s bottle back up and held it up to the light, his eyes flickering back and forth through the liquid that almost matched his eye color as he inspected it. “Is it really safe to wash potion bottles next to where you prep meat, though?”

“I mean, nothing I work with in here is toxic. And if it is, then the bottle just gets disposed of.” Camille shrugged, watching him closely. He seemed, at the very least, pleased with the mixture’s consistency and color. “So, what made you want to make something for pain? Everything okay?”

“You’ve been complaining about headaches a lot lately, and clearly, you’re not going to do anything about it yourself.”

Camille felt her smile shatter once again, her lips now fully turning into a frown. “You really noticed that, huh?”

“Lumine did, too. He actually overheard you mention it first.”

“Sera?”

“You actually don’t say anything about it around her, I don’t know if you’re just like. Worried about worrying her or something, but. You don’t even really say it to us, you just kind of say it to yourself and keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

Camille dragged her hand down her face as she leaned harder into the back of her chair. “Aghhh. I didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah, well. It’s getting on my nerves, so try this. It’s cool enough now.” He held the bottle out to her, their green eyes meeting as her attention redirected back towards him.

Getting on your nerves? Is that just your way of saying you worry, in this case? Camille hid her smile, eyes meeting his for a brief moment.

She took the bottle from his hands, much smaller than her own, the glass still subtly warm—partially from the mixture, partially from his own hands. “So, you actually sat down and made this for me?”

“Hopefully it’s not too acidic from you distracting me.”

Judging by his half-smirk, it was less of a concern, and more of a facetious comment. Something to poke and prod at her.

She couldn’t help but smile a bit more, seeing how confident he was. How sure he was that, even though she distracted him so much by talking to him, it would still be alright. Even if he silently struggled with it on most days, she always tried to take the moments that he was so sure of himself in good spirits.

“Ha. Even if it was, I’ve definitely had worse than something that’s a little bit acidic. I’ve probably had coffee worse than it, honestly.” She opened it, sniffed, and hen downed it as quickly as possible. If it was actually acidic, she would—hopefully—not even notice. If anything, it would likely feel no worse than mild heartburn—and at worse, severe heartburn.

“Well, was it?”

She waited for a moment, expecting an aftertaste of… Something. Bitterness. Something akin to bile. An incorrect texture from overmixing, adding one ingredient too soon, overheating it, letting it get too cool during the cooking process rather than letting it cool after, something.

But it was no different from what she would have made herself for a patient. Slightly sweet, a bit sticky—it would definitely feel better if she had chased it down with warm water or something else. But it was, actually, up to her standards.

“Not at all, actually.” She said, twisting the neck of the bottle in her fingers. “That was good work, Kody.”

“Yeah? Told you I knew what I was doing. Hope it helps, it’ll probably take a little bit, but.”

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I LOVEEEEE YOU FICS OMG OMG

If you could be so kind to write a DomgojoxBratreader where he is her academic rival and they are always arguing but they start falling for each other. She is sassy and he matches her energy 🙏🏽🙏🏽

I pushed her back to the wall and said “You done?”

Tags: dom!Satoru x fem!Reader, brat!Reader, brat taming, academic rivals, rivals to lovers, slight angst, maybe hurt/comfort, hea, cursing, smut, mdni, spanking, slight impact play, cunninglingus, unprotected sex, this shit gonna be nasty i fear.

An: This all takes place when they're in a like Jujutsu Tech College... bare with me lmao. It's basically the events from their highschool years, but I made it to where they happened while they were in college, so all the characters are of age here. I looooove the academic rivals trope after I wrote my Hiromi fic 😩 you can read that here if you’re interested! Also, so sorry but this is a long one... 7.3k words...

Thwak!

Your body jolts forward a bit as you’re slung unceremoniously over Satoru’s shoulder. His large palm wooshes to connect with your bottom once more.

Thwak!

“Why is it always the small ones who I can throw around so effortlessly that talk the most shit?” His face is occupied with that shit eating grin as he gives your ass another spank just for the hell of it. There’s nothing you can do about it anyways. He may as well have his fun.

“Put me down, Satoru!!” You whine, trying to jostle your way out of his grip, but he’s having none of it. Your fists pound at his muscular back, but he continues to laugh. Without your cursed technique, you’re really are just a weakling to him.

“Where are your manners, princess? That’s no way to speak to your upperclassmen.” He taunts as he continues to carry you around with ease. “Maybe if you call me senpai, I’ll put you down.”

“Fuck no! I’m not doing that, weirdo!” You huff as your body continues to wriggle in his grasp. Geto watches with an amused look on his face. He makes no effort to stop Satoru’s shenanigans since you really were asking for this by provoking him all day today.

Your cursed technique is the only one that comes close to countering Satoru’s, so you’re the only person he’ll bother training with. However, he’s a complete asshole to train with.

When you’re losing, he gets all cocky and mouthy, talking about how weak and pathetic you are. When you’re putting up a good fight, Satoru somehow gets even more energetic. His cursed energy output increases exponentially, and he gets touchier too because he can’t cope with the euphoric feeling of actually having a challenge.

Principal Yaga was the unfortunate soul who had to tell Satoru that it was inappropriate to bear hug you for so long after a good sparring session. One time, you were trapped in his arms, completely unable to move for almost an hour as he rambled about how much he enjoyed getting that energy out. His face was also coincidentally(?) shoved in your chest. He, of course, claims it was nothing sexual, but you were completely pressed against him. You felt him grow hard against your thigh.

Either way, you always felt like you had a chip on your shoulder. You didn’t just want to he known as the one who could “almost counter Satoru”. You wanted to be known as the one who could beat the strongest sorcerer of today.

Unfortunately, you weren’t strong enough to beat him in combat yet, so you usually provoked him with words. All day, Geto has had to listen to you and Satoru bickering back and forth with each other.

“Well, at least my eyes aren’t off putting to look at.”

“My eyes are beautiful, princess. You’re just mad that you can’t get a date meanwhile I have girls falling all over me.” Satoru of course childishly stuck his tongue out at you.

“Bold of you to assume I can’t get a date.” You fire back with a small huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh? Does the princess have a date? Make sure to let me know how that goes.” Satoru laughs, and his hand ruffles your hair uncaringly.

“You can ask your dad tomorrow morning how it went.” You’re use to Satoru’s sass by now, and you know how to perfectly match his freak as some would say.

Satoru shoots you a small glare, which only elicits a giggle from you. You decide to push it further. “Yeah, I’m thinking about giving you a sibling. What do you think about that, hm? Maybe we’ll make another six-eyed freak with the limitless technique, so you aren’t that special.”

Satoru’s nose twitched in disdain. Not only did he not like the thought of not being special anymore; he despised the thought of you sleeping with his dad.

And that’s how you ended up thrown over his shoulder as he carried you towards the training matts. “Quite the mouth on you, princess. If only you could fight as good as you yap.” He smirked as he gave your ass a light spank. Once he realized the amount of control he had over you in that moment, it was game over for you.

“Let me go, Satoru!” You shrieked as Gojo continued to manhandle you over his shoulder. After a good twenty minutes of him holding you up, Suguru finally spoke out.

“You two are starting to sound like an old married couple. Put her down, Satoru.” Geto’s calming voice finally laid down the law to which Satoru reluctantly abided by, allowing for your feet to touch the floor.

You caught your breath as you were put down. It had been taxing to wrestle in his arms and scream for him to stop it. He knew you couldn’t activate your cursed technique while had full control over your body. Plus, if you were to activate your technique, you would’ve likely hurt Geto in the process. Satoru knew you wouldn’t even entertain the risk.

While Satoru was Suguru’s one and only friend, you were more like a little sister at Suguru’s side. He was the only one who didn’t view you as “Satoru’s counter”. To Suguru, you were just “y/n”. He saw you as an underclassman with an unprecedented level of potential.

He also often helped you with your studies. While Satoru was technically the brighter one of the two, Suguru was a true teacher. He explained even the most complicated topics to you, much to Satoru’s displeasure.

You didn’t miss the scowl on Satoru’s face each time you came up to both of them to request for Geto’s help. You didn’t miss the way he’d stare at both of you with a slight pout and how he’d try to tell you the answer before Geto could explain it.

You figured that it was just Satoru being spoiled. He didn’t like not being the center of attention when it came to you and Geto.

Satoru turned towards you, and he opened his mouth to continue on his little beratement of you when the door to the training area was abruptly opened. Principal Yaga stepped through the doors and called Gojo and Geto to his office.

The principal ended up sending the two young men out on a mission, and that was when everything changed between you three.

*** *** ***

Things between you three went dry for a while. You knew the details of what happened, but you didn’t dare talk directly to Satoru or Suguru about it.

Both of the men went their own separate directions, leaving you behind in the dust as if you were a child of divorce. Satoru took on an ungodly amount of training, barely ever at the dorms to do anything. Suguru occupied himself with a massive amount of missions.

Suguru was getting skinnier too. His long black hair was becoming thinner by the day, and he always looked so painfully tired. You felt like you would be a burden on him if you asked for any help from him.

Satoru was training so much, putting on more muscle in every place of his body. He didn’t ever invite you to spar with him anymore. He never taunted you in the hallways or even made direct eye contact with you.

They were both so preoccupied in their own grief that they seemingly forgot about you.

Things didn’t stop there either.

Haibara’s death shook Jujutsu Tech to its core. Nanami dropped out of the program. Suguru dropped out and was now a wanted criminal. Shoko wasn’t on the teaching path anymore, moving to learn more RCT to prevent something like this from happening again.

It was just you and Satoru on the teaching path. “Class” if you can even call it that - was so depressing that you barely bothered to show up for lectures anymore. Satoru was taking on every single mission, filling in for Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara’s absence. He wouldn’t even speak to you about Suguru or anything else for that matter.

Feeling so incredibly alone, you were curled up in your dorm late one night. Your face was sticky from tears, and your breath was so uneven. You just needed to talk to someone.

You didn’t think he’d answer, but Suguru sounded happy when he picked up the phone.

“Y/n, how are you?” His voice was like a double edged sword. It was so comforting to hear his voice, but you also remembered the lives he took.

You two spoke for over two hours. You vented out every single grief and complaint to him while he calmly tried to convince you that Jujutsu Tech was a waste of your time.

He was so good at buttering you up, making you feel like his way of thinking even made sense. You were so desperate for a friend; you couldn’t care less that you were essentially signing yourself up for a cult.

“Come to me, y/n. We could do great things together. It’d be like old times. I need you here with me.” A cult leader preying on someone when they’re at their lowest.

You agreed, hanging up the phone to start packing your bags. You couldn’t take living here anymore anyways, not after everything. Satoru probably wouldn’t even notice that you’re gone.

Quietly creeping down through the dorms, duffle bag in hand, you flinch when a sudden hand grips your shoulder from behind. You let out a sharp gasp followed by a small cry before you turn around quickly.

Satoru was standing behind you, no humor in his face at all. He was shirtless. His abs and muscular arms were on full display as he was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, and his hair was slightly damp from a shower.

“Where are you going?” He asked in a tone you’d never heard him use. He was being stern with you as if you were a child.

You shift uncomfortably underneath his gaze before you brush his hand off your shoulder. “I’m going to go stay with a friend.” You give him a half-lie, not able to tell him to his face that you were leaving.

“Pretty large duffle bag for going to stay with a friend, don’t you think?” His hand effortlessly takes the duffle bag off your shoulder, and he pulls it away from you before opening it, taking notes of the contents inside. “I don’t know why you bother lying to me. My six eyes know when you’re not telling the truth.”

You try to take the duffle bag back from him, but he dodges and bats away all of your attempts. “I wasn’t lying!” You shout, getting frustrated and impatient with him. “It’s not like you even care. Give me my shit back.”

Bright blue eyes look up at you, and his pupils dilate, the size of small pinholes. “I don’t care?” He asks before letting out a humorless laugh. It’s eerie seeing him like this, like a stick that just about to snap if anyone applied anymore pressure to him.

“You don’t. You don’t even talk to me anymore, even when I try talking to you! You and Geto completely blew me off.” Hot tears burn in your eyes as you’re forced to face how you feel right in front of him. “At least Geto wants to talk to me now.” You murmured quietly, shifting your gaze to the ground.

“You talked to Suguru?” Satoru asks, eyes wide and full of anger. His palm comes up and grips your hair pulling it back so you’ll look him in the eyes.

You let out a sharp hiss as his fingers are digging into your scalp. “Let go of me!” You shout, trying to free his hand from your hair.

Things finally start to click in Satoru’s head. You were leaving him, leaving him to go stay with Suguru. His stomach coiled in white hot rage and jealousy. Could you not see all he had done for you? Yet, you still choose Suguru, who had done nothing for you.

Your body feels weak and unstable as you’re suddenly teleported to the training mats in the gym. “Satoru, what?” You ask as you look around as best as you can. He finally frees your scalp.

“You want to go be with him?” He asks before throwing your duffle bag against the door. He then leans over and starts to stretch his legs. “You’ll have to beat me. Prove to me that you’re strong enough, and I’ll let you go. I won’t keep chasing you.”

"Satoru, you're talking crazy..." You reply as you glance over to your duffle bag that was slumped against the door. You had no want or intention of fighting Satoru. "I'm allowed to drop out if I want."

"So what? You just quit? You're just going to let me win like that? Bullshit, yn. I know you better than that." Satoru's eyes bore holes into the very depths of your soul. He does know you better than that — knows that you're not one to back down from a challenge.

Your jaw tightens as you watch him, anger coiling in your stomach. He can never just let you have what you want. Everything was a fight to him. He always gets what he wants because he's the fucking starboy of Jujutsu, and you're just "close enough" to his counter.

You rip your sweatshirt away from your body, tossing it off the matt. Your torso was clad in a thin tank top that you didn't necessarily plan on letting anyone see. You roll your neck. If he wanted to fight, you'd give him one last one.

"Atta girl." He whistles with a smug grin. His body is still in a fighting stance, waiting for you to take yours.

You don't even bother to respond to his praise. You know he's only acting like this to get under your skin more. "Make it count, Satoru. This will be the last time I ever fight you."

"Oh, I make it count each and every time."

It's not long before you two are completely at each other's throats. The amount of cursed energy emitting from the training area was absolutely devastating for the school. Building foundations literally shook. The lights flickered constantly, and a few even blew.

You two were lucky it was in the dead of night. If anyone was awake to witness this, they would've already put a stop to it, but most citizens must've chocked the movements up to small earthquakes in their sleepy haze.

Your body was tired and bruised, but you weren't going to give up. You wouldn't tap — no matter how many times Gojo put you in different submission positions. You always managed to break free and hit him with your elusive technique — something his infinity couldn't recognize.

He had grown so much stronger since your last sparing session. All of the training and missions had done him well. His chiseled body felt heavier against you. His grip was tighter. He was faster, stronger, and smarter.

Strangely enough, Satoru was mostly silent during this fight. He didn't taunt you or call you pathetic like he normally did. Besides his quiet grunts and growls from blows or primal rage, he was deadly silent.

This was serious to him. This wasn't like a fight with a meaningless curse. This wasn't like a cute little sparring session with you back in the day. This was you, and your role in his life. He would be damned before he let you fucking quit and leave him.

"Come here." His voice was deeper, rougher — predatory almost as he went in for another submission. His eyes were trained on you, and he had one objective in his mind: to keep you.

You slipped up, misjudging Satoru's distance from you. Before you could evade him, Satoru's large calloused palms gripped the underside of your thighs, and he lifted your body up with ease, shoving your back against the wall.

"You done?" He growled lowly against your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. His chest was rising and falling harshly. He was also bruised, but he'd fight you for the rest of eternity if it meant you wouldn't leave him.

Your breath was faster than his — literally panting as you took the moment of reprieve and rested against the wall. It had been so long since you too had sparred, you almost forgot how handsy he could be with you in the middle of fights.

His slender waist was between your thighs, still only covered by his grey sweat pants. His abs were glistening in sweat, and his hips created a perfect V dipping into his waistband. You instinctively had your legs wrapped around him — making him support your weight.

"I'm not going to let you win." Your voice is low and shaky from the fight. Your nerves were wound up after the night you had.

"Then, stay. Keep fighting me." His body pressed closer to yours. If anyone walked in on you two, it would definitely appear as if you two were doing things other than fighting.

"He needs me, Satoru..." You murmur, turning your head away from his. Suguru said it himself. He needed you. Satoru just wanted you to keep playing catch up with him.

Satoru's jaw clenched, and he pushed your back against the wall harder. He supported your weight with one of his hands and his waist as his other hand roughly grabbed your jaw. His fingers digging into the soft skin of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

"If he needed you so fucking badly, why did he leave you here with me?"

You look at him with lost eyes as the reality of the situation finally starts to sink in. Your big brother, Suguru, had changed into someone you could hardly recognize. You tense — immediately trying to push those thoughts out of your head.

He can recognize that you're still trying to deny it. He jolts your body a bit, making your eyes snap open to look at him again.

"I need you, yn." His voice is raw. He's almost pleading with you. He sounds so convincing, but you can't help but doubt him.

"No, you don't..." You whisper as tears sting your eyes. Suguru didn't need you. He hadn't even bothered to call or text you. If he needed you so much, why didn't he reach out?

"Oh really?" Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. "So, I'm just fighting you at three in the morning for fun? I'm just fighting to keep you here with me for the thrill of it." His hand is unwavering on your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eyes as he speaks.

His eyes look so tired and drained. If you left, how would he have any moments rest. He's barely sleeping now as it is, and if you leave, he'll have to take on your missions on top of everything else.

But something tells you it's not even about that. This fight is the closest thing he's felt to human connection in months.

The rawness of his tone and emotion tugs at your heart strings, but it still feels like you’re giving up to him.

“Fighting at three in the morning sounds typical for you. You just don’t want to lose your favorite punching bag.” You spit back at him.

His hand — so pale and veiny — trails down from your jaw to your neck, and he squeezes just hard enough to make you feel all tingly inside. “Is that what you think? Do I need to fuck some sense into you?”

Your face warms from his crude words, and your hands squeeze his shoulders. His lips curl into a smirk as he witnesses your inner struggle, but he knows the truth. His six eyes know your tell: the way your thighs squeeze around him as if you’re trying to subdue your arousal.

He knows good and well that your pretty cunt is weeping for him, but he’s not going to give into yours or his own desires yet.

“I didn’t fight Nanami when he left.” His voice is back to a steady state, speaking the words carefully to ensure you understand what he’s trying to convey. “I even had the opportunity to fight Suguru to come back. I didn’t.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, making it feel like your stomach flipped upside down. You want to open your mouth to speak — to demand to know why he didn’t fight them to stay, but his hand was still firmly wrapped around your slender throat, holding you back from talking.

“How dense can you be, princess? It’s always been you. No one else.” A heady whisper against your ear. His hand subtly relaxes on your throat.

Then, you remember all the looks he gave you when you’d ask Suguru for help. You remember the times he would fight or outright just butt into your conversations, demanding to be the center of your attention.

“I knew you wouldn’t win, but even if you did, I lied. I’d still chase you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just let you slip past me.”

“Asshole.” You finally managed to speak, earning a dark chuckle from him.

Thwak!

His hand that had been supporting you slapped against your bottom. The familiar sting causing you to let out a breathy gasp.

“You really don’t know when to quit, do you princess?” His hand unabashedly caresses your bottom, soothing the pain.

“I don't think you'd like me as much if I did." You respond gripping onto his shoulders as your body is under his control.

Thwak!

"Probably right about that." He murmurs before he leans into you. His pale blue eyes were half-lidded as he took you in. He's grown tired of denying himself. He's devoted his life to Jujutsu. Now, he just wants to finally do the things he wants to do, and you just so happen to be at the top of his list. "Are you going to play nice, or do I need to keep reminding you who's in control here?"

“I’m letting you have control.” You hiss. Probably not the wisest decision, since Gojo merely lets out a dark laugh. His hand tightens back around your throat, and your back hits the wall with a small thud.

“You’re going to eat your words, sweets.” He mumbles lowly, towering over you as he has full control over your body. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? Do you even know what you do to me?”

His hardened length presses right against your core as if on cue, and he lets out a small groan from the contact. You bite back a noise that would let on your arousal because fuck… you’re wetter than you should be right now.

Too bad Satoru already knows the truth behind your flushed face and heaving chest. His six eyes really give him the advantage.

“I’m going to have fun with you, princess.” He quietly laughs as he drags his hips up and down, giving you the smallest bit of friction and pleasure. Both of you let out respective pants and noises — both of you were such a mess for each other.

Just when you were finally getting use to his rhythm, Satoru pulled back harshly, letting your feet touch the floor once more. Your legs subtly tremble as you stand on your own. You were still so exhausted from the fight, and now, you were feeling needy on top of it. It was like a perfect mixture for disaster.

You clench your jaw, not wanting to just give into him just because he said some really thoughtful words and looks so devilishly handsome. Sure, you were probably going to fuck him if he kept going, but you were not about to sit there and beg him to fuck you. There’s a perfectly good vibrator stashed in your duffle bag for this exact reason.

You start to walk towards the doors. Though, you weren’t planning on going to Suguru. You’d just… go stew in your dorm about how infuriating Gojo is, and then you’d get your frustrations out in a different manner.

“Oh no you don’t.” He says with a playful nature as he roughly grabs you right back up in his arms. “Gonna make me really work for it, aren’t you princess?” He carries you, despite your honestly pitiful attempts at getting away from him, and he bends you over one of the bleachers in the training area.

“Sato-“

“Shut up.” He lowly growled before grabbing something out of his pocket. His black blindfold crumpled in his hand before he reached over your back. One of his large hands grabbed your jaw, forcing your mouth open, and his other hand shoved his blindfold into your mouth.

“If you spit that out, I’m replacing it with my cock.” He warns lowly before letting out a small laugh at your panicked expression. Your face is so red from pure embarrassment of the situation. It doesn't help when Satoru's large gruff hands grab ahold of your shorts and yank them down to your ankles. Anyone could walk in here right now. Sure, it was late at night, but Yaga was notoriously a light sleeper.

Before you could even think about spitting out his blindfold and cussing him out, a harsh slap clapped against your bottom. Your teeth clamped down on the blindfold, masking a husky moan. Satoru definitely had a bit of an obsession with spanking you.

His eyes devoured you as your ass rippled. His hand gently rubbed your poor abused flesh before he spanked your other cheek. Your body jolted forward. A small muffled whine came from your lips, but Satoru knew you loved this.

You were practically dripping all over the bleachers for crying out loud. "Messy girl~" He taunted with a small laugh. "I think she's cryin' for it, sweets. She wants a spanking too."

You quickly start to shake your head, your body tensing at the thought. His fingertips gently smacked your drooling cunt, causing for an obscene wet noise to infiltrate your ears. You can't even stop the moan that's muffled from his blindfold. Your vision goes a bit blurry from tears of stimulation and slight pain, but fuck, it makes you clench around nothing. You were practically aching to be filled.

"Mmm~ you liked that didn't you, princess?" His hand rubs over your ass, groping you so shamelessly. "One day you might actually learn that I know your body better than you do..."

His finger trailed between your soaking wet folds, spreading your wetness around your clit, drawing out a shaky moan from you. Your legs started to lightly jitter, and it felt like your knees would give in any moment now.

"Poor, poor thing. You look like a newborn deer trying to learn how to walk." He taunted as his fingers circled around your entrance.

You were half tempted to spit the damn blindfold out, but you knew Satoru wouldn't hesitate to keep you gagging around his cock for hours if you kept being disobedient.

Another small slap to the button of nerves sent you forward. Your eyes fell shut as you savored the sensations tingling straight from your core. Your knees went inwards, and you had to support your body with your arms on the bleachers.

"That's it... Who's a good girl?" Satoru breathily purred from behind you. You were such a fucking beauty like this, finally caving in to your desires. You wanted this as much as he did. There was no point in denying it. His fingers went back to rubbing tight circles around your clit to soothe the little painful shocks.

You couldn't even formulate the words to tell him just where he could shove his dick. His ministrations felt like pure heaven, and your stomach tightened slightly. If he didn't slow down, you were sure god was going to come down and pluck you from the Earth.

Seeing the accumulation of energy with his six eyes, Satoru knew exactly what was going on. He smirked as he continued rubbing the swollen numb between his fingers. Your poor wet pussy making the wettest clacking noises he's ever heard. His mouth was practically watering for a taste.

Dropping to his knees behind you, Satoru wasted no time burying his face directly into your cunt. He immediately went to work, using his fat tongue to lap up all of your delicious juices. He gave you tender kisses of encouragement.

"See how you're treated when you're being good?" He taunted lowly right against your cunt. The vibration from his words had you clawing at the bleachers for mercy.

You whined and slightly thrashed, trying to fight the orgasm that was threatening to take over. It was too much- You couldn't cum all over Satoru's face right where you two had spent the most time at each other's throats!!

His tongue prodded at your entrance, and he moaned as he felt your wet velvet heat. You were made to house his cock in there -- he knew it. He'd always been god's favorite, so it made sense that god would bestow such a wonderful woman with the most delicious pussy to him.

His thumb rubbed tight circled around your clit as his tongue flicked in and out. It wasn't a minute later before you were basically gushing into his mouth. A muffled squeal left your throat, and you tried to claw away. Your cunt clenched and clenched, and Satoru nearly pitied your slutty pussy. It really just needed to be filled with dick. His dick.

His hands braced your thighs as he gave you a few more sweet kisses straight to your core before he stood up. He slid himself between you and the bleachers so he could hold you up. Your body collapsed against his chest, and you panted heavily. Not even your best vibrator and favorite smutty book could get that sort of orgasm out of you.

"Don't bite me." He warned with a ragged laugh before his fingers delved between your lips and pulled the blindfold out of your mouth. You didn't have the energy or resolve to even say anything to him. Instead, you opted to bury your face in his bare chest.

"My poor princess. Did I wear you out?" His voice was still teasing, even though he literally knew that he just made you see stars.

"Shut up, 'toru." You mutter into his chest, causing for his heart to swell. He loved that nickname, and he loved how you were like a cat pretending like you didn't like being pet by him.

His fingers pressed beneath your chin, and he pulled you up to look at him. Now, his dick was swelling from how precious your face since you were so fucked out already. Wordlessly, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.

Your heart slammed against your ribcage. Getting your pussy ate from the back by him was one thing, but now, he was being all sweet and kissing you?? You can remember all of his sweet words and how he looked when he said them. He was being genuine. He really had feelings for you this entire time.

You wanted to stomp your foot on his toe for taking so long to finally tell you, but his kiss was so sweet and intoxicating. You took a deep breath before intertwining your lips with his.

The sound of lips smacking together filled the training area. You felt the air shift around you. Your passion started to burn hot within the kiss. Both of you chased each others' lips like it was a goddamn need — not a want. Your head actually started to spin as he gripped your jaw and started to nip at your bottom lips with his teeth.

You pulled back - nervous as to why you didn't feel good. Your eyes widened as you took in the change of environment. You were in Satoru's dorm, sat upon his bed. His room was surprisingly clean and warmly lit by a Himalayan salt rock lamp right next to his bed.

"Sorry sweets, I felt like taking this somewhere more private." Satoru merely laughed as his body towered over yours. "I wanted to be able to take my time with you." His voice dropped down an octave, whispering into your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you watched him hook his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweatpants. They did absolutely fuck all to hide how his dick was straining directly against the fabric. He had a huge tent right in his pants, and his cock had created a small dark stain right on his crotch area from leaking copious amounts of pre-cum.

Once his pants were down, your eyes marveled at just how pretty his cock looked in the warm glow of the lamp. His dick was long, and he had such pretty veins decorating the underside and side of his cock. His tip was flushed a pretty cherry red, and he had a pearl of pre-cum leaking from his slit.

"Aw you flatter me, sweets~" Satoru laughed as he petted the top of your head, affectionately ruffling your hair. You scowled up at him, only making him laugh more. There was nothing like seeing you all defiant and pissy with him... except for seeing you all fucked out and pliant under him.

"C'mon~ give it a kiss." He demanded as his long fingers tightened around your hair, guiding your plush lips straight to his dick. You would rather die than give into him like this. Your legs kicked out from you, kicking him straight in the shin.

He hissed quietly from the pain before giving you a dark grin. "You know, I wanted our first time to be sweet and passionate, but you make it real fucking hard to be nice to you, princess." He let go of your head before shoving you back onto the bed.

"Maybe because you make it real fucking hard to want to be nice to you." You retorted as your eyes narrowed. He settled between your legs with a small grunt. Even while you were arguing with him, your cunt was still soaked.

He was almost tempted to take the words out of your mouth by giving you more of his tongue, but his cock had been neglected long enough. "You didn't seem to have a problem after I gave you your best orgasm." He commented with a lopsided grin.

You stayed still against his bed swallowing harshly. Were you two really about to...? Just hours ago, it felt like you two were trying to kill each other. Hell, two days ago, it felt like he had forgotten you even existed.

"This doesn't make up for anything, Satoru." You warned as you kept your gaze hardened. Your body was to receptive to him to deny that you wanted... needed him, so you weren't even going to deny yourself the pleasure that he could give anymore. But this didn't make up for the fact that he had seemingly left you behind for months...

even if he only did that so you didn't have to bare the weight of his mistakes with the star plasma vessel..

even if he only worked himself to death so you could try to focus on your studies instead of being thrusted into being overworked with missions after Suguru and Nanami dropped out...

No, this didn't make up for any of that.

His touch softened as he cupped your cheek in his hand. His thumb stroked your smooth skin, gazing down at you like he was holding the world in his hands. It made you want to squirm and hide.

"So, this is meaningless for you?" He whispered quietly into your ear as his cock slipped between your sopping folds, grinding the underside of his length against you.

Your words got caught in your throat as you gasped for air. You felt your face immediately warm. Shit, you hated feeling this vulnerable... especially in front of your sworn rival.

"Am I only as useful as that cute little vibrator you stowed in your get-away back?" Satoru continued. His hips rocked back and forth, and you found yourself getting squirmy with each time his tip bumped against your entrance.

He was just too damn big to slip inside. It'd take work and lots of perseverance. Luckily, Satoru seemed to be surprisingly patient in that regard.

He groaned as he felt your slick coating his cock. Your body was fucking made for him: made to be his counter and made to take his cock.

You hid your face in his muscular shoulder, stifling a small whine. Damn his six eyes. That vibrator was a godsend some nights when you were stuck being alone.

"Answer me, princess." He drawled as one of his hands reached back to hold your head gently as if he were embracing you. His hips kept a steady rhythm, driving you mad.

"N-no..." You stuttered out, cursing your voice for betraying your arousal.

"Aw, sweets." He cooed in your ear, moving his hips with a bit more conviction now — testing the waters of pressing his giant cockhead against your entrance before going back to dry humping you.

You let out of noise of frustration, hating how easily it was for him to tease you like this. You knew it was going to hurt, but fuck, you were going to cry if you didn't get some relief soon.

"Shh, shh, I'm gonna give you what you need, sweets." He whispered into your ear, pressing a tender kiss to your cheekbone. "You gotta be a good girl for me though."

His arms cradled you as he peppered your neck in kisses. Your hips were rolling to meet his with each thrust. The slickest noises between you two filled the room as his long cock continued to rub against you.

"I'll b-be good, please." You finally choked out, giving up on arguing with him. You were too desperate now. There was no point in trying to hide it.

Satoru doesn't even attempt to hide his smug reaction to you being all submissive and needy underneath him. He drags his hips all the way back until he pushed himself forward — splitting you wiiide open for him.

"Fuck!" He groaned as your tight wet heat enveloped him, practically sucking you straight inside your sloppy pussy. One of his hands reached up and gripped the headboard for support. His back muscles flexed from the new positioning.

"Sh-shit-! Wait, T-toru... ah~! It's not g'nna fit!" You cried out, nails digging into his flesh as you tried to cope with the intrusion of his thick cock.

"Should've thought about that before you fucking begged for it, princess. Now, you're gonna shut the fuck up and take this dick like a good girl, yeah?" His voice was rough with need — no longer teasing. No, this was just primal domination now.

His cock continued to painstakingly shove it's way between your spongy walls, making room for himself right inside you until he was buried to the hilt. His hand had a vice grip against the headboard, and it took all of his mental fortitude to not bust immediately.

He made the mistake of looking down at you. Goddammit you're too pretty like this while taking his dick so well. Your lips were parted as just a small dribble of drool seeped out of the corner of your mouth. Your eyes were glassed over, and he could've swore he saw hearts in your pupils as you looked up at him.

All your attention was finally on him.

His hips set an unforgiving pace, fucking yours directly down into the mattress as he used his headboard as leverage. At least no one was in the dorms anymore besides you and him. There was no one to bother with how obscenely loud you were whining and moaning for him.

Though, Satoru would've still faced his peers with a shit eating grin the next morning if they still lived here. He was so damn proud to finally have you underneath him.

"T-toruToru~! Toru, oh fuck me~"

"At least that smart mouth of yours is good for something." He growled as his cock continued to rudely bully its way directly to your womb. Your legs were barely able to stay wrapped around him as he pounded his hips against yours.

His white hair stuck to his forehead as sweat started to build up for both of you. He usually hated the feeling, but nothing could tear him away from your sweet, sweet pussy right now.

He huffed as he shoved your legs up onto his shoulders, forcing you into the meanest mating press you could imagine. Your eyes rolled back as you practically kissed your last coherent thought goodbye.

Satoru fucking Gojo was going to had already fucked you stupid.

His cock was ruthless, pressing drabbles of precum directly against your cervix. His hips were practically drilling into you out of sheer muscle memory at this point. He just wanted to rut into until the day he died.

"Yeaaah~ look at you now, princess. Ngh.. can't talk back to me now, can ya? Did Toru fuck that.... mmm- poor little brain of yours stupid?" His hand let go from the headboard, gripping your cheeks with his pointer finger and thumb to make you look up at him. Your mouth parted for him as you gazed up at him.

He gathered a small bit of saliva in his mouth before he directly spit into yours, earning a wanton moan from your lips.

The bed continued to squeak and rattle from the repeated abuse. The headboard was now knocking against the wall without his hand to stop it.

"T-toru.." You cried, trying to warn him of how your tummy was tightening. It felt like every cell of your body was working for this orgasm. Your back arched as you felt yourself tighten around him.

He was already ten steps ahead of you, literally seeing your orgasm before it came. "Cum on my cock, princess. Go ahead. 's okay. I got you." He murmured into your ear right before he felt your gushy walls constricting around him, practically trying to milk his cock.

Goddamn, was it working.

A groan ripped through the air as his dick pulsed inside you. He had been holding on for all this time. He couldn't stop the groans and whimpers that fell from his lips as he finally let go and filled your cute cunt to the brim with his warm cum,

You two stayed still, catching your breaths, and neither of you dared to talk and ruin the moment. It was a silent agreement. Neither of you could fight the attraction between you two any longer.

"I missed you." You finally spoke up quietly. Satoru was vulnerable earlier after the fight. It was your turn now.

"I know." He responded quietly. He regretted taking so many missions and hiding from you. It was his way of trying to make the best out of a shitty situation, but all it did was make both of you unhappy. His nose nudged your cheek gently. "I missed you too."

His lips pressed soft kisses along your jaw. He would take more time later today to fully explain the breadth of his feelings for you, but for now, he was happy to pamper you in affections and aftercare until you fell asleep from overexertion.

Also... he would definitely have to make up some sort of story to tell Yaga and explain why your duffle bag was still in the training area... and why it had a pink vibrator inside.

FUCK FINALLY THE END.

[chrissssssmut]

You heard of parasocial relationships where fans of a celebrity feel like they know the celebrity and am close to them even though they aren't?

Imagine a reverse yandere parasocial relationship where an idol sees social media posts from a guy online who is a fan of her and she becomes obsessed with him and goes full yandere

NOTICED

Yandere Kazuha x Male Reader

AN: Sorry I take so long writing! I've been super busy recently and I hope you all could understand!😭♥️

You didn’t expect your K-pop fan account to go anywhere. It was just a place to dump your edits, fancams, and long-winded rambles about how “Kazuha doesn’t even feel real sometimes,” or how “no human should move that gracefully unless they were sculpted by the gods.”

You were just one of thousands. One more voice in a sea of fanboys.

But… she saw you.

And she never stopped looking.

It started small. A like.

You noticed it one night around 2:12 AM, while lazily scrolling through your old posts, chasing dopamine. Your most recent tweet—“If I ever get reincarnated I hope it’s as Kazuha’s phone charger”—had a new like.

From her official account.

You sat upright so fast your spine popped. The checkmark stared back at you like a blinking cursor on a love letter.

“Okay,” you whispered, screen glowing in the dark. “Okay, that’s not… normal.”

Your heart wouldn’t stop racing. She had millions of followers. Why your post? Why now?

Maybe it was her social media manager? Maybe it was random?

You retweeted it anyway, captioning it with:

“No way Kazuha just liked my tweet???? Is this real life???”

You didn’t know it then, but she was already watching. Already scrolling.

Next Day — Seoul

Kazuha scrolled through your feed, her thumb trembling ever so slightly as she lay on her hotel bed. The blue light carved shadows into her face.

Every post. Every caption. Every breath you typed into the void—meant for her.

“He thinks I’m not real,” she murmured, eyes glinting. “He thinks I’m a goddess.”

A slow, eerie smile tugged at her lips.

“Then I’ll become one.”

Three Days Later

Your account was exploding. Kazuha had liked three more of your posts.

One was your fan edit—her rehearsal shots layered with angel wings and a dreamy filter.

Another was your tweet:

“Kazuha's smile should be registered as a WMD.”

And the third?

“If Kazuha ever looked at me the way she looks at the camera, I’d pass out. Actually pass out.”

You were losing your mind. Your DMs were flooded. Kazuha had liked three more of your posts, and the internet was combusting over it. Your phone buzzed non-stop—mentions, retweets, follows, and angry fanboys and fangirls trying to decode what black magic you used.

Some of the messages were just chaotic:

@swanfeetfanatic:

BRO??? WHAT DID YOU SELL TO THE UNIVERSE FOR THIS?? GIVE ME THE RITUAL CIRCLE???

@kknuckles:

This is rigged. You’re not even her biggest fan. You don’t even tag your fancams right.

But then came the jealous DMs.

unknown:

“Seriously? SHE liked you? You barely know anything about her. You said she looked ‘unreal’ like three times. That’s lazy simping.”

user82837:

“You're just a thirst account. If anyone should get noticed, it's people who actually care about her art.”

zuha4life:

“You think she’s gonna date you now or something? LMAO. Delusional.”

private account (no pfp):

“She follows me too. You’re not special. Stop pretending you matter.”

The bitterness dripped off every word, but you couldn’t lie—it kind of made it sweeter. You knew it was petty, but something about being the one she saw… it stirred something in your chest.

You refreshed again.

Another like.

This time, on your old post from months ago:

“If Kazuha showed up at my door soaked in rain asking to stay the night, I wouldn’t even ask questions. I’d just pray she never leaves.”

You stared at it.

And then the DM came from that private account with no posts.

unknown:

"You wouldn’t pass out. You’d fall to your knees."

Then it vanished.

Same Night — Hotel Room

Kazuha grinned at her burner account. She had watched your reaction through the reflection in her hotel window, playing your stream on mute.

She could see you squint at your screen, confused and flustered. She could practically taste your pulse.

“That’s enough teasing for now,” she whispered, rolling onto her back. “He’s almost ripe.”

Next Day — Fanmeet

You had to fly out. You couldn’t resist anymore. Kazuha was attending a public fanmeet in Seoul and you had to see her.

You didn’t expect to get in. You didn’t expect your fan letter to even be read. But someone—somehow—pushed your name to the top of the list.

You were called up.

And there she was.

Kazuha, smiling up at you from across the small table. Her skin glowed. Her eyes—deep, unreadable—fixed on you like you were the only thing left in the world.

You stammered. “H-Hi…”

“Hi,” she said sweetly, but her tone was low. Slow. Intimate.

Your heart did a backflip.

She tilted her head. “You look… just like I imagined.”

You blinked. “W-What?”

Kazuha leaned in, lips just a whisper from the mic.

“Your voice. Your face. I’ve seen all of it. So many times.”

You stood frozen. The staff gestured for you to move along, but she raised her hand—delicate but firm.

“One more minute,” she told them.

Then her eyes turned back to you.

“I liked your post,” she said quietly. “The one about reincarnating as my phone charger.”

You let out a half-choked laugh. “I-I was joking, of course—”

“I wasn’t.”

Silence. Her stare burned into you.

“Would you let me keep you in my room?” she asked. “Just… on the floor. Warm. Plugged in. Close.”

Your throat dried.

She smiled. “I’m kidding.”

But her eyes weren’t.

Two Days Later — Your Apartment

You couldn’t shake her from your mind. Every notification made your heart stutter. Every shadow in your hallway felt like it was holding its breath.

You told yourself you were being paranoid.

Until the note appeared under your door.

“I know where you live now. I liked it better when I was the fantasy. But I’ll make reality better, don’t worry. — K”

You dropped the note like it burned.

Outside, the wind howled.

You couldn’t sleep. Every sound outside your window had you glancing over your shoulder. You checked the locks again. You checked your phone.

No notifications. No messages.

Then the lights flickered.

You turned—slowly—to see her.

Kazuha.

Standing in your living room.

Barefoot. Hair wet. Dressed in one of your oversized hoodies.

“Hey,” she said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Miss me?”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

She walked toward you, slow and deliberate.

“I told myself I’d wait. That I’d be patient. But you kept posting. You kept calling me a goddess. You kept making me real.”

You backed up, bumping into the wall.

Kazuha raised a hand and gently pressed it against your chest. “So here I am.”

Her smile was soft. Her eyes weren’t.

“I’m yours, right? You made me yours. You manifested me.”

“I—Kazuha, this isn’t—”

“Shh,” she whispered. “Don’t ruin the fantasy. You prayed for this. Every post. Every word.”

She leaned in close, lips brushing your ear.

“Let me be what you worship.”

The words lingered in the air, thick with heat and danger.

You swallowed hard, heart pounding so violently it echoed in your ears. Kazuha was inches from you now—too close. The hoodie she wore was yours, you could tell from the faint detergent scent and how it draped perfectly over her dancer’s frame. Her bare legs, toned and poised, brushed against yours like it was deliberate.

“Kazuha,” you whispered, as gently as you could. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

She tilted her head, feigning confusion. “Why not? Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”

“I—”

“You said it yourself,” she murmured. “Over and over. You wanted me in your room. You said you’d let me stay the night. That I could do anything. Be anything.”

She pressed her forehead to yours, eyes half-lidded, breath warm.

“You told the world you’d worship me. So why hesitate now that your goddess is standing in front of you?”

You didn’t know what scared you more—how calmly she said it, or how much of you wanted to give in.

Your hand moved up, instinctively reaching for your phone, but she caught your wrist with gentle fingers.

“No,” she said, smile still soft. “This isn’t something you share.”

Her grip tightened slightly.

“This moment is ours.”

Hours Later — Same Night

You didn’t sleep.

Kazuha sat curled up on your bed like a cat who had always belonged there, scrolling through your phone as if it was hers now. Occasionally, she'd let out a soft giggle or hum.

“Oh,” she said, waving the screen. “This one’s cute.”

She read aloud:

“I’d let Kazuha slap me with a ballet shoe and I’d thank her. I’m sick in the head.”

She turned to you with wide, amused eyes. “That was you?”

You nodded mutely from the corner of the room, where you sat—legs pulled up to your chest—trying to make sense of the nightmare you were trapped in.

“God, you’re adorable,” she cooed. “You’re so loyal.”

She crawled toward you, slow and deliberate, dropping the phone beside you.

“You made me feel seen. Real. Not just some perfectly sculpted robot for the stage. You talked to me like I was art. Like I was holy.”

Her hand slid against your cheek.

“So I’ll treat you like my most devoted worshipper. Isn’t that what you are?”

You didn’t answer.

You couldn’t.

She smiled, tapping her forehead to yours again.

“Don’t be scared. You’re mine now. That’s all this is.”

You awoke to the smell of breakfast—burnt toast and eggs, slightly too salty. Kazuha was dancing barefoot in your kitchen, humming a Le Sserafim song under her breath like she was home.

Like she belonged here.

She turned when she saw you, eyes lighting up.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” she chirped. “I made food. It's probably bad, but you’ll eat it anyway, right?”

You stared at her.

“Zuha… you can’t stay here. This isn’t normal. People will notice—”

“Let them,” she said, expression unchanging. “Let them see what real love looks like.”

“But your fans—your company—”

Her face shifted just slightly. A small, almost imperceptible crack in her serene expression.

“I don’t care about them,” she said flatly. “I care about you.”

Silence.

Then, quietly:

“You think they’d still love me if they knew what I was willing to do for you?”

You didn’t move.

She stepped closer.

“If they knew how long I’ve been watching? How many of your locations I’ve tracked from tweets? How many people I blocked from your replies—using sock accounts—so you’d feel like I was the only one who cared?”

“Kazuha—”

“They’d crucify me,” she whispered, smiling. “But you wouldn’t. You’d kneel.”

Later That Day — Twitter

Your account was different now. Your follower count had mysteriously dropped. Your tweet replies were unusually quiet—no more chaotic DMs. No more angry fangirls or jealous snark.

They were gone.

You opened your DMs and saw nothing.

Nothing.

Except one new message.

From @onlyzuha (a private account with zero followers).

“You’re welcome. I cleaned up the noise. I want to hear you clearly.”

“Post something for me. Something true. Tell the world who you belong to.”

And somehow… you knew if you didn’t, she’d find another way to make it clear.

You hovered over the tweet button.

Your hands were shaking.

“I don’t know how this happened… but she’s mine now. And I think I’m hers.”

You hit post.

Seconds later—liked by @Kazuha_official.

Your post went viral.

Not viral like before—no chaotic memes or fan envy. This time, it was quiet.

Sinister.

Everyone could feel something was off.

Your tweet:

“I don’t know how this happened… but she’s mine now. And I think I’m hers.”

Got liked only once—by Kazuha’s verified account.

No replies. No fan jokes. No chaos.

Just silence.

And then, one by one, your tweets started disappearing.

Not the ones Kazuha liked—those remained, carefully pruned. But old ones, ones where you casually mentioned your friends, college, exes, late-night gaming buddies—they all vanished. It was as if someone was scrubbing your digital identity clean.

That Night — Your Apartment

Kazuha was humming in your room again. Sitting cross-legged in your chair, scrolling through your timeline like it was hers.

“Your friend Dan,” she said calmly, “he called you pathetic once in a Discord voice call. I saved the clip.”

You stared at her. “How did you—”

“I joined with a throwaway,” she smiled. “Voice mod and everything. Cute, right?”

You stood frozen, bile creeping up your throat. “You… you were listening?”

“I am listening,” she said softly. “All the time.”

She got up, walked to you, and gently took your face in her hands.

“I know you better than anyone. Better than your mother. Better than God. Because I chose to.”

“Kazuha,” you whispered, barely breathing, “I’m scared.”

Her smile didn’t falter.

“I know, baby. It’s always scary when divinity touches you.”

Next Morning — Trending Tab

#FREE___

Your name.

It started trending without context. Just your name. Bold. Empty. Dozens of fans began asking:

“Why has this guy’s account been completely wiped except the Kazuha tweets?”

“Did he delete himself or did someone else delete him?”

“He was super active and now he’s silent af. Where is he?”

“This is giving Black Mirror.”

You tried to post something. Anything.

But the tweet wouldn’t send. Your drafts vanished as you typed them.

Kazuha walked past behind you, brushing her teeth, wearing your shirt. “Internet issues?”

She spat in the sink, smiling through the mirror.

“I locked you out. Just for a bit. You were shaking too much.”

Sometime later, a secret video is leaked.

A blurry video was posted by a burner account and quickly deleted.

It showed you—clearly distressed—sitting on a balcony. Kazuha beside you, holding your hand, smiling into the camera. Whispering something into your ear. You looked like you were crying.

Fans lost it.

“No idol should be that close to a fan, ever.”

“He doesn’t look okay. He looks like he’s being held hostage.”

“If this is real, we need to help him.”

But the video disappeared in minutes.

The account that posted it? Nuked.

The people who reposted it? Suspended.

Your last tweet remained.

Still liked.

Still pinned.

Still yours.

You sat on the edge of the building, wind tugging at your clothes. Kazuha sat beside you, her hand on your thigh, casual like always.

“I think people are starting to notice,” you murmured.

“They’re irrelevant,” she said. “They don’t understand us.”

She leaned her head on your shoulder, like a girlfriend in a drama.

“I used to think I needed the world. The stage. The lights. But it was all so… hollow.”

“Then I found your words.”

“You made me alive.”

The wind howled. You didn’t speak.

“If the world burns because I chose you,” she whispered, “then let it burn.”

She looked up at you.

“So choose, baby. Me or them.”

Your lips trembled.

“Kazuha…”

“I won’t ask again.”

One Week Later — You were declared missing.

It started with a welfare check.

Neighbors hadn’t seen you in days. Lights on all night. Packages stacked outside your door. No noise, no movement. Your parents tried calling—you didn’t answer. Your friends, the few who hadn’t been pushed away, filed a report.

By the time police reached your apartment… it was empty.

No sign of a struggle. No signs of violence.

Just your phone—cracked, screen facing the wall. And a note:

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve gone somewhere better.”

Your name hit the trending tab again.

#RIP[YourName]

#JusticeFor[YourHandle]

#WhatHappenedToTheSimpKing

Memorial edits popped up. Fan theories ran wild. Some blamed Kazuha—pointing to the tweets, the video, the possessive behavior. But HYBE’s legal team moved fast. Every accusation was buried. Every account mysteriously suspended.

It was dark when you woke up. Dim yellow lighting. A room with no windows. Your limbs ached from disuse, your body heavy. The bed beneath you was soft. Too soft. Sheets freshly washed. The scent of clean linen mixed with something sweeter—like jasmine and static.

Then you heard her voice.

“There he is.”

Kazuha stepped into the room, barefoot, wearing a flowy white dress that made her look like a dream—or a ghost. She sat beside you, brushing your hair from your face.

“Sleep well?” she whispered.

You tried to sit up. “Where am I?”

“Safe,” she said, like that explained anything. “The world thinks you’re gone. And for once… they’re right.”

You stared at her, mind spinning. “You faked my death?”

Her smile didn’t waver. “I set you free.”

The bunker—because that’s what it was—had everything.

Soft lighting. A stocked fridge. A mattress. Speakers playing Le Sserafim on loop. No internet. No phone. Just books she picked out. Sketchbooks. Headphones. Her.

She was always there. Always.

Feeding you. Bathing with you. Stroking your hair as you lay on her lap like some prized possession she could finally keep.

“You were too soft for the world,” she said one night, straddling you with a featherlight touch. “Too pure. They would’ve ruined you.”

“But I kept you.”

You stared at the ceiling.

“You stole me.”

She giggled, kissing your cheek. “And yet… you haven’t run.”

You didn’t respond.

You didn’t even know where the door was anymore.

Above Ground — Fan Reaction Shifts

A user posted screenshots of your old tweets.

“Guys. Look. She liked every single one that hinted at him wanting to disappear with her. This wasn’t random.”

“What if she saw him coming? What if she planned it?”

They were shut down instantly. IP banned. DMCA strikes. Cease-and-desist.

Kazuha’s fans pivoted.

“He was clearly unstable. Poor girl must’ve been traumatized.”

“She hasn’t smiled once onstage since it happened.”

And it was true.

Kazuha’s performances changed. She danced slower. Sang with empty eyes. But in between sets, a ghost of a smile would return. Not for the cameras. Not for the fans.

Just when she looked at her phone.

Because she still had photos of you.

Videos.

Recordings.

Proof that you were here, beneath the floorboards of the world.

It had been over a month. You couldn’t tell time anymore. Kazuha walked in with two mugs—one for you, one for her.

You didn’t even look up.

“Are you ever going to let me leave?” you asked softly.

She sat beside you, curled her legs underneath her. “No.”

You finally turned to her. “Then why pretend this is love?”

She looked at you, long and deep, like you were scripture.

“Because you loved me when no one else saw me. You wrote about me like I was more than skin. More than choreography. You called me sacred.”

“You gave me that godhood. I’m just returning the favor.”

You laughed bitterly. “You buried me.”

“I immortalized you,” she said, tone still calm. “You're legend now. The fan who loved me so much he vanished.”

She kissed your knuckles.

“And now you’re mine forever.”

Final Scene — A New Fan Surfaces

Far away, in a different country, a new Twitter thread begins.

Someone posts an edit of Kazuha.

Captions it:

“If Kazuha kidnapped me, I’d say thank you.”

The tweet goes viral. Harmless joke. Just another fan craving attention.

But in the shadows… a new account likes it.

@onlyzuha

💬 “Do you really mean that?”

[you-little-arsonist]

ok so if anyone wants them, here are some buddie fics that have mutual masturbation and/or phone sex in them (don't look at me), idk these are probably pretty well known but i'm still making my way through all of them. they are all complete and they're all rated E because well. also CHECK THE TAGS because i didn't write them all out here!

Your place is where I'd rather be instead by mickeysmyheart/ @mickeysmyheart (3.5k)

The next thing Eddie does, short circuits Buck's brain. Eddie takes his shirt by the bottom and pulls it up and over his head, keeping it bunched up and putting it to the side on the counter. Eddie is now shirtless. He’s shirtless in his kitchen. Oh. OR Buck teaches Eddie how to make lasagna over FaceTime when Eddie gets his shirt dirty and has to take it off and it alters Buck's brain chemistry.

Last night, you called on accident by mickeysmyheart/ @mickeysmyheart (8.3k)

Buck goes back to his bag and pulls out Eddie’s black tank top. He brings it up to his nose and inhales— he can tell himself it means nothing later. He moans on his exhale. Holy fuck. OR The one where Buck finds one of Eddie's tank tops in their locker and takes it home & in El Paso, Eddie brought one of Buck's LAFD shirts with him. You know the GIF.

Kiss me through the phone by mickeysmyheart/ @mickeysmyheart (2.6k)

Buck finds himself sitting up in bed— his back against his pillows— phone close to his ear. His heart is beating like crazy— both of theirs are. “That something you want, Eddie?” Buck says in a low, deep voice. “Want me to tell you how often I’ve thought about getting down on my knees for you?” Eddie’s breath hitches. That’s all it took for Eddie’s dick to get hard as fuck— twitching with the need to be touched. “Jesus, Buck,” Eddie moans out as he reaches his free hand into his briefs, touching himself. OR Buck is bored and Eddie can't sleep so the two end up having phone/video sex

to have and to hold (platonically and heterosexually) by teenytinytomlinson/ @littlefreakbuckley (21.2k)

So in the middle of Eddie’s dining room, with his brain to mouth filter non-existent (as per usual), Buck blurts out, “Marry me.” Eddie sits straight up, looking at him with eyes wide as saucers. “Excuse me?” “W-well, just think about it. If we get married I can add you and Chris to my insurance policy and that solves your problem.” Eddie’s mouth forms a perfect little ‘o’. Buck waits patiently for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. When the ground doesn’t do as he’d hoped he realizes he has to say something else. “Obviously, w-we don’t have to,” he’s quick to assure. “But if we did it would be platonic, of course, because you’re straight and–” he pauses, praying for another rogue stroke of lightning. Anything to put him out of his misery right now. “-and like I know that I’m bi now, but this wouldn’t be like that y’know? It would just be two friends helping each other out.” He’s rambling, the words won’t stop tumbling out. “Like a friends with benefits type situation! E-except you know not those kinds of benefits! Like actual benefits! Health and dental.” or, Eddie is moving to Texas, losing his insurance, and marrying Buck all very heterosexually and platonically.

A Phone Call Away by Ironkissedfanfics/ @ironkissedmage (5.7k)

Buck had his apartment to himself for the first time in months, so of course he had to take advantage of such a lovely opportunity to get off without fear of anyone hearing him. It's just his luck that he butt dials someone while he's fingers deep in himself. And he's just not sure if it's a blessing or a curse that it's Eddie he called.

while i think of you by markofalover/ @markofalover (4.2k)

Just Buck speaking, apparently, is enough to get him hard. His brain starts hurting. Like he’s guzzled down a Big Gulp sized Icee in the summertime. …or, Eddie slowly loses his mind and has phone sex about it.

anyway those are some of the best ones, please tag me if you guys know of more like this! and thank you to all these authors, you are truly doing the lord's work

[oharaslove]

HIIII V !! i didn't think that you'd actually reply to meeee T ^ T but I was wondering, if you have enough time and space for writing in requests, i wanna suggest a storyline where the reader is Miguel's "first evreything", and the story would be about/start off with Miguel establishing his first moves and his feelings to y/n (kinda like the start of the relationship). AND DO ADD YOUR TOUCHES AND WRITING STYLE IN, AND IT'D BE PERFECT. thank u so much ! love u a lot ! ♡♡♡

𝘚𝘰..., 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭, 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘨𝘨, 𝘐 𝘈𝘔 𝘚𝘖𝘙𝘙𝘠!!

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬. 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶!! 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵. ��𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦!! 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘥.

This was supposed to be a one-shot but my mind kept adding more information and I can't keep it out. So anyway! This is part 1.

Summary: The story of Miguel's first and only love, you. A passage through the most significant moments of your relationship.

Word count: 2040

Tags: pre!Spiderman2099 Miguel x civilian!Reader + Spider!Miguel x civilian!Reader, fem!reader

||masterlist|| part 2>>

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎

𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼

The fact that it was February was starting to annoy Miguel. 

The constant reminder of his loneliness was not something he expected to be annoyed about. Sure. He had been alone his entire life. Never a slight romantic interest in a person. Never the feeling that oh so everyone talks about. Love. 

What was so appealing about it anyway?

He marched into Alchemax’s reception at his usual time, after passing an uncountable amount of men with bouquets and chocolates. Ugh. The sight of it made him roll his eyes. It was Valentine’s day again. He prepared himself mentally for the usual questions: “No one important in your life?” “Got a lady waiting for you at home?”. Ugh. Why do they even care? He doesn’t. 

Miguel headed straight to the lifts, paying no mind to the people around him. He just wanted to get this over with. Get in the lift. Go up. Lock himself in his life. Simple. Easy. No human interaction whatsoever. Or so he thought. 

As he entered the lift and pressed his floor button, a sigh escaped his lips. Finally. He rested his back against the back wall and threw his head back, inhaling deeply while closing his eyes. The door began to close. The outside world fading into what it looked like a peaceful and perfect day of just Miguel and Science. No one else. But he had chanted victory too early. 

A foot stopped the doors for closing completely. The sound of them opening again making Miguel snap his head to the front, locking eyes with the person entering. It was a person he had never seen before. Not that he paid much attention to the various workers of Alchemax, besides his coworkers in the lab and his superiors. 

“Ugh, love, love, love. Isn’t there something more important than love” You muttered under your breath, probably something not intended to his ears, but your words had reached him nonetheless. 

Miguel snorted quietly, making you whip your head towards him. “Oh, so sorry. Didn’t notice you there. My mind was elsewhere” you rambled. “And… sorry if you heard that. I promise I don’t hate love.” you continued, avoiding his gaze, the lift closing behind you. 

“It’s okay, honestly.” He shrugged. “I can’t say I disagree. Valentine’s day is always the same.”

“Right!” you exclaimed, fully turning your body to look at him better. “And the never ending questions: ‘Do you have someone special waiting for you at home?’” you mocked, rolling your eyes with a smile over your lips.

Miguel left out a belly laugh, one he hadn’t heard in a long time. “They are horrible.”

“They really are.” you answered, looking towards the button’s panel.

Miguel relaxed against the wall again, glad that the interruption of his alone time wasn’t unpleasant. Crossing his arms over his chest and resting his head against the wall, he took the opportunity to eye you better. 

You were beautiful. The way you were dressed and the way you held yourself let him know you were confident, and strong. He was really surprised he had never seen you before. He would for sure remember it. Besides, you seemed interesting, and had the same thoughts as him regarding this dreadful day. 

Miguel was so focused on you he hadn’t realised the lift had stopped and the doors opened with a “ding” until you chimed “Oh, we are here”. He pulled himself out of his thoughts shaking his head. God, what’s wrong with me he thought. 

You stepped out onto the corridor, looking at both sides, seeming lost. Just then, Miguel realised he was on his lab’s floor. Have you worked on the same floor all this time?. He didn’t want to part from you, not at least without knowing your name, or a way to meet you again. He hesitated, all being oh so new to him. How do people approach a woman without sounding like a creep? 

“Um… sorry, I am new here,” you interrupted his thoughts. Your beautiful doe eyes staring right at his. “Could you help me find this lab?” you motioned towards the piece of paper on your hand. 

Miguel gazed into your eyes for an awkward amount of time, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, his brain slowly processing what you just said. “Oh! Yeah… yeah! Of course!” He answered a little too excitedly. 

He darted his eyes quickly to the paper, his lab number written in it. Wait. HIS LAB. 

“Uh…” he began.

“Oh, am I on the wrong floor? I swear this was the floor the guide told me” You retreated your hand, holding the piece of paper closer to your face. Frowning, cutely,  your eyes darting from left to right.

“No…” Miguel shaked his head, trying to get out of the spell he was in. Come on, focus, he reprimanded himself. “No, you are on the right floor” hd informed, his voice sounding more sure this time. “I was just surprised. That is the lab I work in”

Your mouth stretched into a smile from ear to ear. “Nice! Are you a geneticist too?!” You held your eyes in his, blinking slowly.

“Yeah…” he scratched his neck, looking away. Your gaze was intense, and he was feeling things he couldn’t explain. “I’ll lead you. This way”. 

Miguel turned on his heels, not bothering to check whether you were following or not.

𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

After the initial confusion and surprise of your arrival, it turned out you and Miguel worked amazingly together. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and the bond between you only grew stronger. 

Before you, Miguel dreaded speaking to people. He spent his days cooped up in his lab, only answering questions if necessary. And not even that. He would grunt, nod and hum most of the time. But, you changed that. 

Every morning, before leaving for work, he would check himself in the mirror, trying to look his best. Miguel didn’t know exactly why, but he liked it. And he hoped you liked it too. His quiet and montone days turned into a game, what topic would you come up with today? What outfit were you going to wear? 

It didn’t really matter, you looked good in everything. Or, so he thought. As a friend and colleague of course. Miguel could never get enough of you. Could never stop listening. But, that was normal right? Friends want to be with each other all the time. Right? 

He doesn’t know how it happened, but a workspace that started being only his, a sacred place no one, but him could touch, became yours. You had started working on the station behind him. But gradually, with time, as you and Miguel became closer, without you two realising, your workspace and work in general, had merged together. 

Sometimes, you would work so close together that your shoulders brushed against each other, or you would try to grab the same thing at the same time, making your hands touch. And, every single time, Miguel felt a tingle run down his spine. A short-circuit on his mind. Plus, a warm feeling on his chest, produced by your giggle. 

Today was supposed to be like any other day. Miguel got ready for work, double and triple checking his appearance before leaving. Upon his arrival to the lab, there was already an odd feeling. You two arrived at almost the same time, which meant, you always stumbled upon each other on the corridor or in the lift.

That morning, Miguel had to go up alone, the silence, despite the horrible lift music, deafening to the ears. Maybe she is already here, he thought. Nothing to get worried about.  He stepped out on the corridor with a heavy feeling on his chest. What if you weren’t? He had grown so accustomed to your presence he never thought about not being by your side anymore. 

Miguel took small and indecisive steps towards his lab, the expectation of the reveal weighing him down. He needed to know if you were already there, but at the same time… he didn’t know what to do if you weren’t. 

The door to the lab appeared in his view. Miguel stopped in his tracks, a metre away from the entrance. He closed his eyes as he took a big breath in. Okay, this was the moment of truth. He clutched the strap of his bag against his chest. Sweat dripped from his forehead, as his trembling hand reached for the door knob. 

Miguel took another deep breath before closing his eyes and twisting the knob. He stepped in slowly…

Emptiness. There was not a single soul in the lab, just him. 

Miguel stood locked in place. His brain processed the information. You weren’t here. He tried to recall your conversation the day before. You never told him you would be absent, right? 

What if something had happened? You had a car accident! Or your flat caught on fire. Million thoughts running through his head, none of them happy. 

Miguel clutched his head. His fingers running through his locks, tugging. His chest was heaving up and down. The air wasn’t reaching his lungs properly. Miguel shivered, the lab was cold without your presence. His life was an iceberg without you in it. 

He was out of his zone. He had never felt like this. All Miguel wanted to do was curl in a ball and hide. Hug himself to feel some warmth, closing his eyes imagining it was you. A tear slipped from the corner of his eyes, trailing down his cheek before falling into the floor. 

After that one, came a dozen. Miguel’s body was shaking. He sniffled, a sob escaping his mouth. How could he not have your number? All this time and he never asked. Were you okay? What if he never had the chance to see you again. What if–?

“Miguel?” he heard from behind him. 

He whipped his head around, his hands falling to his sides. There you stood, two coffee cups, one on each hand. You had a smile on your face, but upon seeing him, it dropped. 

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. You rushed to place the cups on the table before going to Miguel. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Your hands landed on his arms, grounding him. You were safe! You were here. 

Miguel left out all the air he was holding, another sob cursing through his body. He slumped forward, his head landing on your shoulder. His arms snaked their way around your middle, embracing you. 

You stiffened for a moment, before melting into his touch. Your own hands embracing him, caressing his broad back. 

“Shhh it’s okay,” you cooed. “Everything is going to be okay. I’m here”. 

Yes, you are, he thought. He sighed, all the tension in his body dissipating. 

He pulled back from your shoulder, now towering over you, but not stepping back. His hands remained on your body, seeking your warmth. Yours regained their previous position, on his arms. 

You looked up at him, your eyes big while examining him. 

“I’m alright now, thanks” he said hoarsely. Miguel, very reluctantly, moved his hands away from you, wiping the remaining tears of his cheeks. Your arms dropped to your side, as a small smile formed in your lips. 

“Okay.” you murmured. You glanced towards the coffee cups on the table, before meeting his eyes again. “Why don’t we sit down and talk over coffee? Or not, you don’t have to tell me. Just..” you rambled, fidgeting with your fingers, and looking away. “I got your favourite”

Miguel smiled, his eyes softening. “Thanks”

You beamed at him. Taking the lead, you walked past him, grabbed the coffees and took your usual seat on the table. You looked at him expectantly. Remembering how to function, Miguel took off his bag and placed it over the desk, before taking a seat next to you. 

You handed him the cup, your fingers brushing against each other. The usual spark present. Miguel stared at you, his mouth slightly open, while you took a sip of your coffee. Realisation hit him like a truck. He had a crush on you.

Oh, he was fucked.

|| masterlist || Part2>>

𝘈𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳! 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 (𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴) 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸!! 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵 (𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘦𝘩𝘦) 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵!! 𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦!!

𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 2 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄! 𝖧𝗈𝗉𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒. 𝖨 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝖨 𝖺𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝖡𝗎𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝖧𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗌!

[neosexuals]

˙ 𖥦  ⪧ ◟together ˒ ˶ taehyun

> synopsis: you and taehyun have been in a business marriage for 4 years,you’ve never had anything between you two. Most of the time taehyun would go around fucking other rich women, everyone knows it’s just business. Exept you

A/n : I literally loved writing this like AHHHH I hope you guys like it <3

Tag list^^: @heiiolifeee @f4iryfever @iweirdthingsblog @yuriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii @cinnikoi

“Always been mine…”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Honey im home” he sang out as he entered the home you had together. You were pissed to say the least, you let out a heavy sigh “don’t call me honey, taehyun you’ve gotten into another scandal” you huff again “how do you plan on covering this up”.

He stares at you, his gaze confused and amused at the same time. He ruffled his hair "why do you care?" He grunted as he sat down beside you on the couch "you know that means I'm the wife who let's their man whore of a husband fuck around right? Which leads to them thinking I'm cheating too..?" You argue scooting away from him, before getting up to go away "whatever it's not like you aren't, your just better at hiding it" his attitude scorching through you, grabbing your hand "now sit down I'll go get coffee and tell you everything"

He walks away , once again. You never said you need or want an explanation, but deep down you do.your heart burns as you stare at your phone, the article everywhere.

"Kang taehyun , cheater"

The silence becomes louder in your head, you try to surpress tears. No matter how hard you try he always replays in your mind, he hurt you. He doesn't even know after 3 years of your undivided attention towards him. He doesn't realise you love him. Before you know it your lost in your thoughts once again....

"y/n? Y/N?" He waved his hand infront of your lost figure, you jumped back when he smacked your head "y/n oh my god" his voice clearer now. You won't even acknowledge that he hit you, you don't care.

To be honest taehyun felt bad for you too, he loved you just as much, he wanted to hold you, to feel you to be close to you. But he knows he couldn't, he knows you dont like him, so he acts like he hates you, he hooks up with girls left and right 'knowing' you don't care.

The problem is, you do care.

"anyway, I met her at a club, I felt sexually pent up so, I decided to... You know" he explained himself he was rambling on and on after this before you stopped him "taehyun stop rambling I really don't care" you did.

"I'm gonna go to bed" you walked upstairs the stairs tiring you out before you plop onto your bed,you had a joint bedroom only a wall and a door dividing you twos room.

He regrets his decision every time he fucks around, he acts like it doesn't matter but when he walked into his room he feels an absence. You were that absence.

#######

"Kang y/n finally gets revenge"

"icon y/n"

Your name surrounded the web , you finally decided to fuck around after 3 years. It felt odd ofcourse but you didn't carw., You just wanted to get over taehyun. But you got caught, you thought he wouldn't care since he's always on the news.

You sat on the couch once again, it was a habit for you by now to wait for him at the couch. As soon as the door handle turned,so did your stomach why did you feel so bad all of a sudden.

"how was it?" He dropped his bag, not even making eye contact with you. "How was what?" You asked hesitant of his reply, you were slightly trembling "the sex" his tone grew more aggressive by the word. "I asked how was the sex y/n"

His tone had a hint of sadness to it, you didn't notice it though. His gaze hit you atlas the flames in his eyes grew."it wasn't great" you responded, you wanted to lie but you couldn't. It wasn't great it was sad, miserable actually.

"then why'd you do it" his voice odly calmer than before, he was less jelous. Yet you stayed quiet

You wanted to talk back, you couldn't however. He walked towards you, step by step making you tremble. His next move wasn't clear at all, he sat beside you grabbing your jaw "look at me darling, why'd you do it" you were now facing him, the tention grew between you.

"I..." You fucked up, how or why you don't know but it felt like you fucked up "you??" His leg shaking, you couldn't tell why tho.

"taehyun." You paused his eyes widen as you use his name anticipation coarsing through him.

"taehyun...I used to like you." You blurted it out, the gaze and pressure let it out of you. But you still liked him.

"like I know it's not meant to be that way, I know it's business and I know I'm just being delusional but-" your ramble cut off by his touch. He wraps his hand around your nape, pushing your face closer to his. Your lips almost meeting.

He stares at your lips, your eyes roaming the situation, trying to avoid contact. Your mind travels wanting to kiss him so bad, but you don't want to act suddenly. Waiting for him to make the move, was he playing with you?

"I like you too" he mumbles onto your lips before smashing them together. The kiss soft yet laced with desire. He was holding back for you, the kiss sent shivers down your spine. You stay frozen in place before he pulls away , "you didn't pull away?" He cuts your words off again with a kiss, this time you reciprocate the kiss sending shivers down your spine. Your arms wrapping around his neck pulling him closer, he smiles during the kiss as you do this.

Breaking off once more his smile widens he stands you up "wait." You pause the situation. His eyes widen once again. "Shit whatever" you dismiss your negative thoughts smashing your lips together once more, your hands still wrapped around his neck as his hands roam around your body landing on your waist.

Picking you up lightly. You wrap your legs around his torso as he indicated with a tap on your thighs, the kiss sloppy as he climbed up the stairs carrying you. He opens his door with force as his hands still roaming your body.

"you've always been mine baby" he mumbles onto your lips , dropping you on the bed as he climbs over you leaning for another kiss. This time hungrier more rough. You start to crave his attention, you needed him more than ever now.

"fuck babe" the nickname forming something in you. As the kiss continued, Taehyun's hands moved up to play with your hair, his tongue exploring deeper into your mouth. He could feel himself growing hard against your leg and he knew he wanted more than just a kiss from you.

Feeling the heat between them, Taehyun broke the kiss, panting softly. His eyes met yours, filled with lust and anticipation.his breath hot against your skin. “Taehyun….” You huff out. Wanting more out of him . With a smirk, Taehyun slowly removed his shirt, revealing his well-toned body. His hands slipped back down to your pants, tugging them gently over your hips and down your legs. You were even more beautiful than he had imagined. He kissed his way down your stomach, taking in the taste of your skin. His hands continued their exploration, tracing patterns on your thighs and teasingly brushing against your underwear.

Eager to work with you, he knew his girth couldn’t fit into your pussy. “Want you so bad…” his eyes practically eating you out. His hands find its way inside your soaked panties, his fingers running through your folds. Playing with your puffy clit he starts slowly inserts a digit into you, your folds tightly squeezing his fingers “so tight….” He whispers into your ear “are you sure you’ll take my cock like this?” He glides his free arm across your face, his eyes loving yet sarcastic pity covers his face.

His finger working on you painfully slow as he leaves marks on your neckline. His length gets painfully harder as he fingers you, starting to grind on your thigh. He slowly inserts another finger his breathing ragged as he continues to finger you slowly, his other hand moving up to massage your breast. your breath heavy trying to speak while he mercilessly fingers your cunt. Scissoring inside stretching you out.

You moan out his name softly. “You feel so good around my fingers, baby. My little whore” His words are heavy with lust as he presses a soft kiss to your jaw before returning his attention to your neck and shoulders, nipping and licking softly. He can feel your pussy tightening around his fingers adding a third one chasing your high.

Your moans seem to get louder as his actions get faster, your hips bucking grinding against his fingers. You let out his name before releasing over his fingers as he curled them inside, the orgasm shaking you. You try to catch your breath laying there a bead of sweat trickling down the side of your face.

He gives you time to breath tasting you on his fingers, licking them dry. His body gets more tense as it seems his boxers now have a wet spot from his pre cum, he couldn’t wait any longer kneeling onto the bed and pulling your legs onto his tights “sorry baby, you look so Pretty I can’t take it anymore” he leans in, now in a missionary position and kisses you, the kiss hungry deep and sultry. You could tell how desperate he was

“You ready?” He lines himself between your legs, lubricating his tip with the remaining orgasm you had let out. You nodded eager for his cock to fill you up. As he slowly enters you realise how big his member actually is.

Stretching you out deliciously he groans feeling your tight walls around him “such a slutty little pussy hm?” His breath getting heavily, he would’ve cum right then and there “can their cocks stretch you this well” the pleasure distracts you from his malicious words. He goes on whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he finally fills you up balls deep.

He gives you a pause to get used to his length “says the man-whore” you finally catch your breath replying to his former words. He fumes with anger and starts to move relentlessly.

“Man-whore?” He huffs fucking into you his girth so mouth wateringingly wrapped inside your soaping pussy. He whispers sweet nothings once again, nicknames spewing out of his mouth sweetly.

“y/n if you, fuck- if you keep squeezing me like that I’ll cum inside” he groans and curses under his breath. He was addictive to you, you felt painfully pleasant his, face admiring your features. His girth creating a small outline in your stomach, his cock twitching at the sight.

Your eyes close shut as you get closer and closer to your orgasm, evident by your pussy tightening around him. He takes this as a sign to press on the outline around your stomach , causing you to whimper, the stimulation making you sensitive.

“Baby I’m gonna” his words get cut off by his groan

“Just- do it Baby” you nod your head allowing him to release inside you as you chase your high along side him. He gets cockier and starts to play with your clit, your words driving him. His movements get faster, slowing down at lass to release alongside you.

His juices mixing with yours as he falls on-top of you he slowly pulls out. Shifting beside you, cuddling you to relax.

“Why did you fuck around if you like me?” You start to question his actions. Looking forward to his response

“Cause I thought you hated me , I tried to get over you…” he paused “and also,I don’t just like you y/n love you” his words shook you, a smile forming after you pause “I love you too” you finally respond.

You turn to see he had passed out already, you could only let out a chuckle before kissing his cheek and snuggling against his arm.

[zigrethsnotebook]

I apologize for writing a new request so quickly, it just popped into my head and seems very good. I hope you like it)Ford and the Reader.Ford is definitely a very passionate person and immersed in his interests, research, etc.? Imagine that in response to some simple question from the Reader he bursts into a whole speech, a lecture, in fact. That Ford goes a little into the wilds, so to speak. At some point he notices that he has been talking for a very long time and feels deflated. He apologizes and says that he probably got too carried away, but that the Reader (a person who is extremely honest and extremely closed, which often makes it look like she is not listening) replies something like:"You almost lost me an hour ago, but you talk so captivatingly about what interests you that I just couldn't stop listening"Very honest people of frequencies look a little rude, but if you get to know them better, you understand that there is simply no double meaning in their words. They say what they think! Which means that the Reader really likes listening to Ford, trying to understand his theories, even if she can't)That's the request. Quite chaotic, but I hope you like it) Thank you for reading!

ohh i can absolutely relate to the just listening to someone ramble bit, i love listening to people haha

An honest review

Ford x Reader

words: 1,189

tags: sfw, fluff, idiots in love

Ford had just made another grand discovery on his latest expedition into the depths of the forest and you eagerly followed him into his lab. He had stormed into the gift shop, barely looking up from his journal as he walked, the pen never leaving the page.

He was such a weird guy and you loved it about him. Down in the lab he immediately pulled out various jars and boxes and stored all the things he collected in them. While he did that you sat down backwards on his chair, letting your head rest on top of your arms on the backrest.

Ford rushed from one side of the room to the other, his tan coat floating behind him as he did so. He hurried around, pulling boxes and crates, putting stuff away, scribbling in his journal and muttering to himself. You smiled lightly as you considered whether or not he had noticed you following him.

After a few minutes of this he was done. He had pulled an amount of things out of his coat pockets which you deemed unlikely, but you were also aware that he had probably put some sort of... pocket dimension in his pockets. For storage. Or something.

Ford turned to you. Or, more accurately, to his chair and found you in it. He halted, raising his eyebrows. So he hadn't noticed. You chuckled a little. "Surprise." You managed to say and let your chuckle turn into a soft smile.

"How long have you been sitting there?" You hummed as if in thought. "I don't know. How long have you been here? I followed you down the stairs." Ford chuckled awkwardly and scratched at the back of his neck. "That long, huh?" You just nodded.

After a moment of Ford trying to be less embarrassed you perked up, lifting your head from your arms again. "What did you find out there anyway? It must have been pretty exciting if you didn’t even notice me here."

Ford blushed a little at being called out like that, but that was quickly overruled by sheer excitement at getting to share his findings with somebody. Somebody who was willing to listen.

He started when he heard the first unusual noise and didn’t spare any detail in either his observations or speculations. Ford had so many ideas and theories about what he had encountered today and since you actually asked him about it he didn’t hold back.

You let your head rest on your arms again as you realized that this was going to be a long one. You loved to hear him ramble. All his observations were a solid mix of fascinating and downright terrifying. You had no idea how he managed to be out there all alone and face some of these creatures.

All of his theories though? You didn’t understand half of them, even if you tried. And you did try. But it wasn't like you could get between his excitement and ask him about it. He was too lost in his story and you loved listening to it.

You watched Ford animatedly gesticulate along with his words and pace through the room. It was like your own private play in a theater and you relished every second of it.

Eventually, when he was about halfway done with his story, you suspected, he locked eyes with you. His eyes darted to the clock just above his desk and then back to your eyes. A little blush of embarrassment crept onto his cheeks.

"I just realized I've been talking non-stop for about 80 minutes. I'm sorry." Ford scratched at the back of his neck. "I know you asked me about this but you probably didn’t want me to give you a full lecture on the topic. So I'm sorry if I'm boring you with this."

Ford let his hand fall back down to his side. "If you want me to stop and you tell me so now, then I promise I won't be upset." He had an awkward and apologetic smile on his lips. He buried his hands in his coat pockets and looked away from you nervously as he waited for your answer.

You thought about it for a moment. "I'll be honest, you almost lost me an hour ago. But I just can't stop listening to you ramble on about your interests... It's just so captivating." You watched Ford blush an even deeper crimson as he met your eyes again.

Honest indeed. He knows full well that you have never lied to him and hearing you compliment him like that. To hear you say that you enjoy him basically lecturing you on the weird things in this town... that's something else. Something he hadn't expected to hear today.

Ford felt a tingly feeling in his stomach. Butterflies. He had to look away from your face or he'd have embarrassed himself further, either by saying something horribly awkward or worse. Kissing you.

You on the other hand watched all this happen, watched the gears slowly turn in his head. You knew he had a crush on you and relished in that feeling. He was just too adorable when he tried to hide his very obvious blush or tried to play it off when he found a reason to touch your arm.

You also had a crush on him, obviously. And you were planning to tell him about it really soon. As soon as you could work yourself up to it. Even though you knew he felt the same way you just couldn't bring yourself to tell him. It was still too scary to admit your own feelings.

A sigh escaped you as you got lost in your own thoughts which caused Ford's head to snap back in your direction. "Don't tell me I'm boring you now." You looked back up at him, huffed and answered him absentmindedly before letting your eyes fall to the floor again. "No, you could never."

It was a good thing that Ford's blush hadn't subsided yet, because it would have come back full force at those words. What did you mean 'he could never'? He wanted to ask for clarification but he didn’t dare. You probably just meant his scientific rambles. Not him personally.

After a moment you shook your head as if to shake off all your distracting thoughts and focused on Ford again. He was still standing in front of you, unable to move and unsure what to say. You smiled as you let your head rest on your arms once more.

"So what else happened?" Ford's eyes lit up with excitement. His heart all but lept out of his chest and into your arms. He gladly continued his story, his rambling, his lecture or whatever you want to call it. And you listened just as happily as he was to tell it to you.

Your gaze was soft and filled with nothing but fondness as you watched Ford take his hands out of his pockets again to gesture around the room with them.

You would tell him about your feelings eventually. As soon as he stops rambling...

[seabirdtxt]

.Irminsul --amend -m 'Scaramouche'

Nahida has called in the book club to try and start discussions about the Creator's situation. Cyno actually kinda knows what he's talking about and Alhaitham is... mostly there for moral support... [< prev] [Blog Tag] [next >]

Notes: SAGAU, reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. Separate warning for my writing being all over the place on this one. all relationships are currently platonic!

WC. 2.6k

----- ⚘ -----

There’s not much to do except wait for Alhaitham and Cyno to show up, unfortunately, so you have taken to chatting with Nahida and Aranyani about some of the games and toys that exist back on Earth. Aranyani seems to be interested in the mechanics of each, comparing them to existing games in Teyvat, while Nahida is more interested in trying them out for herself, someday.

Scaramouche doesn’t seem interested in the conversation, but he sits with the three of you anyway and watches the shadows of birds moving beyond the stained glass windows. 

You’d just been explaining the concept of the rubix cube and algorithms to the two gods when a sure knock is heard on the sanctuary doors. Scaramouche takes the opportunity to make his escape from the conversation, shuffling to the door and opening it for the newcomers. 

Cyno steps in, followed by Alhaitham, and the two of them hold each other at a polite distance as they walk down toward the dais, where the rest of you stand to greet them. 

“Hello, my friends!” Nahida exclaims, smiling brightly and clasping her hands together even as she and Aranyani take a gracious step back to allow you and the newcomers space. “Thank you so much for being here! We have a lot to discuss!” 

“We came as soon as we heard,” Cyno replies, nodding. He then turns to you with a little salute. “Your Grace, it is an honor to be in your presence.”

You put your hands up placatingly. “Please, there’s no need for formality…” you say, shuffling awkwardly on the spot as everyone looks at you. You clear your throat and gesture for the newcomers to continue. 

“We heard about the circumstances after your arrival in Teyvat,” Alhaitham states, stepping around Cyno, stopping at his side and crossing his arms. Straight to the point. “Do you remember the circumstances that led up to your descent? It might help point toward the root cause, and shed light on the ‘how’s and ‘why’s.” 

“Uh, good question,” you mutter, scratching your head about it for a second. “I was probably hanging out in my room or something, really. Playing, uh, games on my phone.”

You wonder if it’s too early to mention that said game was Genshin, AKA. controlling their world. You know they’re marginally self-aware, but the extent of which still escapes you. 

“Alright, and did you do anything different while you were playing on this ‘phone’? See anything strange?” Cyno picks up, pulling out a small notepad and quill. “Anything out of the ordinary, things that you don’t normally do or notice.”

“Well, my phone has been glitching a lot when I play games, lately,” you muse. “And I kept getting these buggy screens while I was in-game, but I figured that was just because my device was overheating or something. You know, they build them faulty on purpose so they can sell you a new one every few years? Apparently in France or something they made companies give people the right to repair their own phones, but we don’t have that where I live…” 

Cyno writes down most of the first half of what you say, but you seem to lose the crowd as you ramble. He looks up from his notepad to fix you with a level stare, though you can tell there's just a hint of confusion behind his expression.

“Can you say something that makes sense to people who live in this world?” Scaramouche interjects somewhere in the middle of your rambling, the first time he spoke since you guys first teleported to the Sanctuary of Surasthana. “Or at least stay on topic, or something.” 

“Oh,” you reply, blinking. “Right.” 

Cyno nods to you again, though he keeps glancing at Scaramouche out of the corner of his eye. Alhaitham doesn’t bother with subtlety, fixing the Balladeer with a level, analytical stare. Cyno clears his throat after a few seconds of awkward silence, preparing his notepad once more. “So, you were saying you played on this ‘phone’ device, aside from the problem you noticed, was there anything else you did differently?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “I was playing the game like I normally would, doing commissions and stuff. No, wait, actually I did do something a bit weird.” 

This causes Cyno to perk up, and he leans forward onto the balls of his feet as he listens attentively. 

“Because the game was overheating my phone, my ping was super slow,” you explain. “So I was lagging pretty badly. I was doing one of the leylines in the jungle and I was spamming the interact button on the flower because I was getting impatient…”

“And then?”

“... And then I think another dialogue box popped up, but I didn’t notice what it said.” You finish, sighing. “After that, I just remember waking up beside a leyline thingy right here in Teyvat.” 

“Do you remember the exact location of the leyline?” Alhaitham asks, to which you shake your head.

“The Traveler and Wanderer found me not too long after that, and took me straight to the city. They probably have a better idea than I do, honestly. I didn’t really have a chance to figure out where I was, at the time…” 

“Do you recall any distinctive landmarks? Anything that stood out in an otherwise unremarkable location?” 

You shake your head again, trying to remember what you saw. “No, uh, I was a little bit distracted by discovering I was suddenly in- uh, in Teyvat, and-”

“So you were not already aware of your location when you descended?” Cyno clarifies. You nod quickly.

“I only figured out it was Sumeru when the Traveler started bringing me closer to the city,” you agree, wringing your hands nervously under the general’s gaze. “The few little houses and tents that started popping up, the architecture kinda gave it away…” 

“Were there any inconsistencies you noticed between your knowledge of Teyvat and the actual Teyvat when you arrived?” Cyno asks, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “Just to make sure you’re in the correct version.” 

“Well, funny you should mention that,” you figure it wouldn’t hurt to share this, given the result of it sitting right next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, Nahida is giving you a thumbs up. “I got hurt touching a leyline, not the same one as when I first got here, though! I got a little cut on my hand, because the leaves are a bit sharper than I was expecting…”

Alhaitham’s attention shifts from the Balladeer back to you. “What happened when you were injured?”

“I, uh, I accidentally made Irminsul recover some deleted information.” You simplify as best as you can. “And now there’s several things that were added back to the world that aren’t technically supposed to be here...”

“I’ve never heard of leylines doing that, before,” Cyno remarks. “Then again, it’s not every day the Creator descends to Teyvat.” 

“Have you tried going back to the same location to see if it yields reverse results?” Alhaitham wonders aloud, seeming amused by the strange predicament. 

“And what is that supposed to achieve?” Scaramouche interrupts again, snorting as he crosses his arms. “Besides going for a leisurely stroll through the jungle, I mean. Irminsul already recovered the missing data, and the location itself doesn’t matter, if you haven’t noticed already, since you can find a leyline just about anywhere.”

“It’s certainly an unprecedented behavior for leylines,” Cyno agrees. “But again, the Creator has never descended before-”

“We heard you the first time,” Scaramouche deadpans, earning him a smack upside the head courtesy of you. “Ow! Do you want to figure this stuff out or not?”

“Be nice,” you grumble, though you do feel slightly annoyed at the repetitive line of questioning. “He’s just ruling things out, right?” You turn to Cyno, nodding encouragingly for him to continue. 

“Ley lines are a complicated but fascinating subject to study,” Cyno states, crossing his arms and tucking his notebook under one elbow. “However, I’m afraid interdimensional travel is a little bit outside Spantamad’s realm of expertise.”

“Honestly, that’s fair,” you give a resigned sigh, but Scaramouche cuts you off.

“But how’s that supposed to help you?” He sneers and rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s like you want to be stuck here forever with no explanation for how you got here in the first place.”

“Can we just chalk it up to magic or something?” You ask sheepishly, a little embarrassed at having taken the time out of two of Sumeru’s most important figures’ days.

“I was looking forward to hearing about how you got into this predicament with your own two idiot hands, honestly.”

“What I want to know,” Alhaitham suddenly interjects, surprising everyone else with his initiative. “Is how the Creator and the Dendro archon are here, cozying up to a Fatui harbinger?” 

Four pairs of eyes blink at him in surprise, while Cyno nods in agreement.

“I think that’s the more pressing matter, here,” he agrees, and you can sense the tingle of static in the air as his previously-relaxed grip on his notebook starts to tighten. 

“Okay, see, that’s one of the things I was talking about!” You say quickly, the words leaving you in a rush in hopes of stemming the building tension in the sanctuary. “He was a harbinger before, but he’s all better now!”

“You say that like it was an illness,” Scaramouche snorts, to which you can only laugh.

“Yeah? As if you didn’t act a little bit sick in the hea-”

Nahida, who up until now has been doing an excellent job of pretending to mind her own business, decides to chime in before the general can come to his own conclusion.

“I apologize for not warning you two earlier, but I do have it on good authority—that authority being myself,” she hides her giggle with the palm of her hand, “that the Balladeer poses no harm to either of you, or the Creator!” 

“It’s also kinda my fault that he’s here, so I mean…” You trail off and give an apologetic shrug.

“How did you know I was a harbinger?” Scaramouche’s eyes narrow at Alhaitham and he crosses his arms as well, mirroring both the scribe and Cyno. “As far as I've been told, the memory of ‘me’ was erased from Irminsul.”

Cyno shakes his head. “No, there is recorded evidence of the Balladeer’s involvement with the sages’ god-creation plan,” he corrects, relaxing very slightly after Nahida’s reassurance but not dropping his guard completely. 

“I was present at the time of the Traveler’s investigation of the Joruri workshop, where they confronted the mechanical false god,” Alhaitham adds. “The person who fell from the machine indeed bears striking resemblance to you, but was confirmed to not be the Balladeer himself. However, Lord Kusanali’s own interjection confirms that you are indeed the Balladeer.” 

“He’s been reformed,” you say cheerfully, but your mind is running a mile a minute. Evidently Nahida and Aranyani are on the same page, because the two goddesses drift closer with curious looks on their faces. 

“So Irminsul has already started patching the holes in Teyvat’s history,” Nahida muses, hands on her hips. “It’s much faster than I anticipated, given the circumstances.”

“Not as surprising as you would think, little sprout,” Aranyani pats her head. “Irminsul is capable of very rapid computation, but the problem lies in resolving as many conflicting histories as possible. Two is faster, but three will cause some things to be shuffled around for a few days, still. The justification of the existence of multiple incarnations of the Balladeer may yet be subject to change.”

“So you’re saying that what we currently perceive as fact, is instead false?” Cyno asks, having retrieved his notebook once more. As the goddesses continue to muse on the subject, he writes down their theories and makes some notes of his own. 

“I’d say sorry for that workshop fight,” Scaramouche says, addressing Alhaitham with a smug grin. “But I honestly didn’t even remember you being there. I guess you just weren’t that noteworthy to me at the time. No hard feelings, right?” 

Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to grace him with a look, much to Scaramouche’s annoyance. Instead, the scribe quietly listens in on the Irminsul discussion.

Meanwhile, you try to remember what team you had when you took on the Archon quest fight. It’s been a while since then, and you’re not sure if you’re thinking of the right fight. Maybe you used Alhaitham in one of your weeklies? Speaking of which, do those boss fights exist in the world of Teyvat, or is that just for you as a player of the game? If they exist, how do the characters feel having to go beat up the same people on a weekly basis? What about the characters who are weekly bosses, like Wanderer, Childe, and Ei?

Thinking about it is starting to give you a headache. 

You decide to tune back in as Nahida and Aranyani finish bouncing ideas between themselves, with Cyno furiously scribbling annotations in the margins of his notepad. What was it they were talking about again? You get the sense that maybe you should've paid a bit more attention. 

“- that’s the case, then we should contact Inazuma and see if there is a new history that came up.” Cyno offers, to which Nahida shakes her head.

“If we ask directly, the answer we will get is the same.” She explains, wringing her tiny hands. “To them, this knowledge will have always existed. They will perceive it as an unchanged fact, in the same way you and the Scribe believe the circumstances of the Balladeer to be a fact. The better people to ask would be the ones involved in the anomaly.” 

“Alright, and how do we find them?”

“See, that’s the funny part…” You begin, only to be interrupted by a sudden swirling pressure in the chamber.

It’s strange to see the teleportation from an outside perspective. You watch as Wanderer shimmers into existence, adjusting his hat. The metal charms on the ends of it chime as they settle. He looks up, catching sight of you first and raises a hand to wave, only to stop short when he sees the other guests.

“... Looks like I’m late to the party,” he remarks, drifting over to Nahida’s side. “Wanna catch me up to speed? Not that I care, but I might as well get the full picture so I can correct you where you're wrong.”

“I asked for the General and the Scribe to come visit so that we could get a better grasp on the Creator’s situation!” Nahida explains, smiling brightly at him. 

“Great, and how did that go?”

Everybody chooses to look in different directions, unable to look Wanderer in the eye. You hear him heave an annoyed, but resigned, sigh. 

“We might’ve gotten somewhere if Buer hadn’t sidetracked,” Scaramouche adds helpfully. 

“And you might’ve gotten the groceries like you guys said you would, too, but here we are,” Wanderer crosses his arms, pinning you and Scaramouche with a pointed look. 

You wince and turn around, subtly leaning over to Scara, whispering: “I actually forgot about that…”

“Me too…” he replies, not quite as quietly as you. You both startle as hands come down on both of your shoulders, Wanderer’s grinning face appearing between the two of you. 

“Isn’t this just a splendid opportunity for you two to go find the traveler and restock our pantry, while Buer and I go over the details of what you clowns didn’t explain right?” 

Scaramouche wastes no time wresting his shoulder out of Wanderer’s grasp with a noise of disgust. “Who do you think you are to order me around, teacher’s pet? I’ll go when I feel like it.” He sneers, stalking off toward the doors of the sanctuary.

You offer a light chuckle and a wry grin of apology to the others, who watch unimpressed at Scaramouche’s display, while Wanderer dismisses you with a shooing motion.

Right. Time to get those supplies. 

[asterythm]

on the ending of in stars and time:

an essay from someone who couldn’t sit with it at first, & a love letter to the fic that brought me here anyway. (…spoiler warning for in stars and time, naturally, but you knew that!)

if siffrin isat has taught me one thing it's that vulnerability is cool, actually, and being forthcoming and generous with love when there is love to be shared is how the coolest kids do it.

so. hello isat nation of tumblr dot com. i'm here because even after cutting out several chunks to shorten this significantly, i busted through the ao3 comment section character limit and still had more to say, so i needed somewhere to put it all that would let me go longer.

i’m pretty sure this post is for, like, three people, one of whom is me. but look, it’s been moved here to the webbed site so if you wanna read it anyway i won’t stop you!

=====

i think what it is, ultimately, is this: the ISAT canon ending was beautiful. it was a wonderfully well-written ending with so much love and hope and thematic satisfaction.

it also left me, for a period, with a deep and unshakeable sense of dread.

:)!!!!

now enter @faedemon's "None Forward & Two, Two, Two Steps Back" (hiya, fancy seeing you here), a two-chapter alt act 5 in which siffrin finds a New, Worse way to break the loops.

despite being, as mentioned, a notably worse outcome for everyone involved, this alt end managed to cut straight to the heart of that dread and settle it — and not in the sense of "oh, i like this alt ending better", or “oh, the canon ending looks better in comparison against this worse alt ending”, so much as "oh, thanks to this alt ending i am finally able to sit in a place where it no longer feels like the canon ending, as a beautiful outcome which felt impossibly lucky to get, is the only outcome in which life can go on — and my ability to accept it, and the game as a whole, is elevated for it."

which!! i mean!! i don’t know that that’s exactly what you set out to do; None Forward is explicitly a tragedy!! and one, as your tags say, written because the canon ending didn't ring true for you.

but I realized that the thing that was stopping me from enjoying ISAT’s canon ending was that ugly hard core that was still so, so scared after the canon ending of every way we (that is, siffrin + i as the player moving in that incredible ludonarrative lockstep with him, holy moly the harmony in this game) had not yet grown to earn it. 

=====

(I’ll take a sec here under the cut to say that when I played ISAT, and then for much of the month that followed, my main reason for engaging with it and its related content at all was that it was a piece of media that came fervently recommended by my incredibly dear friend @iconocat , who it had massively, violently impacted and whose media recommendations in general I trust more than anything.

so i played ISAT, and it was incredible. but even though it's a piece of media that just about hit on every point on my list of Things That Set My Brain On Fire, it failed somehow to. well. set me on fire — at least to the extent I was expecting it to. I still enjoyed myself in the few weeks afterwards of running through fan content and intentionally plunging myself into media analysis, but I was never convinced that I would be engaging with ISAT to the extent I was if it wasn't for the sake of trying to intentionally hack my brain to the point where I could share with my friend something so important to her at the same level of genuine investment. 

I’m telling you all this because, legitimately the same night I posted “nothing but a dull ache” (ie, if you're not charlie faedemon and are somehow caring to read this anyway, the epilogue oneshot I started feverishly writing the morning after reading None Forward), I realized through my rambling in my friend’s discord dms that reading None Forward was the moment the fire finally caught. I spent a month burying myself in ISAT content and asking myself “Is this natural yet?”. after None Forward, the answer to that question finally became a sure, wholehearted yes.)

=====

so anyway, back to the essay.

don't get me wrong. it's really, really nice, to read a story where the moral is less “you should have asked for help", and more “there are people who will unselfishly give the gift of a love that saves even when you cannot save yourself".

but that whole ending also was only able to happen because 1. they broke in a way no one should ever have to break, and 2. everyone involved got lucky.

which, in media, happens all the time!! it is not inherently dissatisfying for a narrative to wrap by saving you with luck and love in the nick of time!! in fact it should be incredibly satisfying, after the unambiguously-negative downward spiral into Director Siffrin who had begun to learn what to say and do to make his family behave exactly the way he needs them to, for a stroke of unpredictable luck brought about by factors entirely out of his control to finally be what sets him free.

but like... I think it's because the story is set in a situation where it's no longer true that luck and randomness is a factor by which anything significant can change.

we're hammered over the head with it: until and unless you do something to alter the course of events, they will not be altered. when you are the only dynamic element the world is reacting to in an otherwise looping course of events, you don't get to rely, anymore, on the idea that at any moment something could happen to save you. you have to assume that nothing will happen unless you make it.

and siffrin?? siffrin's literal motto was "stick to the script"!! they spend the loops with a mouth that kept closing tighter and tighter and tighter until i got to act 5 and watched them implode. and then I’m saved, and I know I haven't earned this. I get to the end and I'm still not telling them anything!! I wasn't supposed to get the good ending!! but I get away with it anyway with open arms and acceptance and unconditional love, and it's. kind of nauseating?

how am I ever supposed to learn and grow, if I didn't manage to change my behaviour even then under the threat of Eternal Looping Torment, and still got the good ending anyway? how can I prove there was an alternative way I could have broken free if things hadn't turned out so lucky in that one terrible act 5 loop?

I can't. and that's terrifying.

(aside: I’m speaking in the first person here to emphasize that the thing that got in my way is not because I don't believe siffrin is deserving of this love — quite the opposite, I think the driving force behind the good ending is that siffrin went scorched earth and saw he was loved anyway — but because this is a game designed to frequently encourage the player to deeply feel what siffrin is feeling throughout its course and. well. as a thing to happen to a fictional character it's beautiful. as a takeaway for the player, it's... harder.)

and that's where None Forward comes in. (i’ve already written thousands of words in comments and epilogue fic declaring my love by now, but i mean. im hoping you won’t mind just a liiiittle more.)

None Forward shows a devastatingly written, all-too-believable version of what might have happened if siffrin didn't get lucky, and the loops continued, and they kept clinging to the script and refusing to Look At It and successfully stagnating and stagnating and stagnating as they were so determined to do. and it's bad, it's worse, it's way way worse — but there's no reliance on outside factors. it comes completely from within siffrin and loop, the only dynamic pieces in the world, finally breaking out.

it was the terrible, nightmarish unfairness of the loops brought to their natural, just-south-of-inevitable conclusion.

and yes, it's a terrible, unfair conclusion, but the loop still breaks.

in a roundabout way, it... gives me so much hope. if the outside factors were different, if the stars did not align just right to allow siffrin's family to get there on time to save them, if siffrin never learned to open their mouth, which by all means seems like the likeliest course of events... they'd still get out. worse for wear, and separated by a gap unbridgeable, but out.

there is a future. there is freedom.

=====

to speak more specifically on dull ache, if you'll forgive the indulgence, just since this was originally meant to be in a reply to the author in my own comments section:

I think I so desperately needed to write it with a focus on the family siffrin left behind because I wanted to prove, if just for myself, that in that barely-dodged alternative there still could be a future for everyone. (isabeau's just happened to be the voice in which dull ache came to me, but the point was to create an epilogue for all four.)

for the rest of the family, who was not quite so deeply ravaged but was still left in a bad way at the end of None Forward, and for whom randomness is not pretty much unequivocally good just by virtue of being better than the alternative like it is for siffrin and loop (more on that in a sec), I could see it mattering more to set specific pieces up precisely, and I could actually imagine the pieces I could set up that could have a meaningful impact in the immediate future.

so. y’know. I set them, in the way I happened to want to. granted, with some extra... divine indulgence, but siffrin's departure from their family's perspective at the end of None Forward was definitely Wrong but not so obviously wrong that I could believe that without it they wouldn't otherwise either (a) go hunting him down to force out the truth, which felt Worse, or (b) just "accept" that it was as simple as Siffrin not actually caring about them/brushing them off and thus intentionally fade him into the distance in their minds to deal with it. which felt like the WORST POSSIBLE THING.

you'd think it might make more sense to have done this for siffrin and loop, instead. they're arguably the ones who need it most, after all, so why not build them up from rock bottom as a sweeping show of "things get better"?

but... i think it doesn't need to be written to have faith that it will happen: the very fact that Siffrin is about to set out on a new journey in a reality where everything is a dynamic player just. immediately gives me hope all by itself. random lucky things that save you are so much more believable and wonderful when random lucky things in general are happening all the time, and you have all the time in the world for them to happen.

and anyway, I don't think this is the kind of future you’d write satisfyingly as a sequence of events at all. to heal from this is something that will take an incredible amount of time and nonlinear progress. 

until one day, through a series of disconnected small quiet gloriously-random lived experiences, without knowing when it happened or being able to trace it back, you realize, oh —

somewhere along the way, you came to know how to live again.

[marichild]

20 Questions For Fic Writers!

ty for the tag @valleykey <3

how many works do you have on ao3?

listed as 114! I cannot remember how ao3 counts the works but I do have a fic or two on anon and like 3 in a private anon collection.

what’s your total ao3 word count?

673,463. for now anyway

what are your top five fics by kudos?

there are more important things than words between us || 8.8k hits || gyuricky || zerobaseone || canonverse getting together

something that has become absolutely clear || 5.1k hits || karmagisa || assassination classroom || spin on the cave scene

for me, like the real me || 4k hits || karma & gakushuu || assassination classroom || transmasc karma has a crisis

a vinland saga fic that has been been put in priv anon collection awaiting time to be rewritten

what’s the lie? what’s the truth? || 3.9k hits || sequel to cave scene fic, the karmagisa fight scene

what fandoms do you write for?

quite a lot! right now I’m writing mostly for link click, alien stage, and bsd, but I haven’t stopped writing for jjk either! there are assorted miscellaneous fandoms thrown in there, though.

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

I do! no specific reason other than I get so excited when people comment on my fic and I just have to say thank you and respond to any thoughts they leave behind. truly, nothing makes me happier than talking about the creative process/choices/thoughts I put into my writing with people who are eager to do so.

what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hmmm. I don’t really do unhappy endings but rather ambiguous/open ended ones. if I had to pick out of my recent works, probably the kyouka & lucy idol au which didn’t solve any problems at all, or the lukatill power play fic where…well. I stuck to how blink gone went in canon, so. </3

what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I WRITE MANY HAPPY ENDINGS. honestly it depends on what one perceives to be more positive than the other, so there’s no set answer for this, really.

do you get hate on fics?

shoutout to the guy who managed to be both racist and misogynistic about the main canon couple of the racism bad discrimination bad war bad series. other than that weirdo who jumped me within five minutes of posting my first attack on titan fanfic (which was genuinely so funny tbh), nope, unless I’m just forgetting.

do you write smut?

eh. sometimes. more so than usual these days to be honest.

do you write crossovers?

not really! I do write x aus of y universe, but the only crossover I have ever done so far is the jjk x bsd crossover and that is for the sole purpose of dazai menacing/unsettling gojo.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I’m aware of.

have you ever had a fic translated?

yep, a few times! I’m always so honored like…wow….a translation…

have you ever cowritten a fic before?

technically not, but kavi @blackwaves and I fully wrote both our versions of lukatill power play fic after rambling in dms and wrote it specifically for that purpose lol.

I am also writing a companion comedy fic to their vein/lu guang fic, which is how that universe has been nicknamed the toxic romcomverse. because we low-key lost our minds thinking about how cheng xiaoshi and xia fei would react to vein/lu guang hooking up and it’s genuinely a fucking mess. stay tuned for more bad sex decisions from two puppies who are sulking about things they should not be.

what’s your all time favourite ship?

woah. that is a difficult question. if I were to really choose probably percy/annabeth from pjo or hiccup/astrid from how to train your dragon although I haven’t actually written for either of them. if I were to pick one I have written for. nico/will from pjo or (sorry for the rpf ships) yeonjun/beomgyu (tomorrow x together) and heeseung/jay (enhypen).

what’s the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

uhhh there’s a lot. thinking about it, probably the zb1 kidfic. or the if I stay au. I do want to go back to it eventually; I just don’t have interest in it right now due to a variety of factors.

what are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told my prose and characterization is pretty good! I do take pride in it as much as I question what the hell I’m doing sometimes.

what are your writing weaknesses?

action-based scenes, probably? those are particularly difficult for me. tbh I can think of too many haha

thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

as long it’s done well and respectfully? honorifics and such don’t have direct translations and sometimes if a character who speaks a different language is present, that might also work. it really depends on execution for me.

first fandom you wrote for?

winces. during my wattpad days? bts x reader fic. (ironically I am I listening to bts as I write this. specifically the truth untold and filter) on ao3, enhypen! my most recent fic (assuming you’re reading this before I post my femslash february fic) is enhypen, too. nostalgia I guess.

favourite fic you’ve ever written?

careless as could be, a sigchuu character study fic. aka my current baby in the bsd fandom. (I’m cooking more insane shit trust)

the little blue bird that’s lost its voice, a shin/raiden fic (for 86). honestly I’m just fond of the characterization and all there. 86 unlocks a weirdness in me sometimes.

tags!!! all optional btw dw

@obsidianstrawberrymilk @blackwaves @anticidic @monkey-banana41 @bungoustraypups @lesbiansanemi anyone else interested!

[steviewashere]

🪱🪱Worm Wednesday!!!!!🪱🪱

I was tagged by the lovely @hotluncheddie! Hello, I'm sorry for the rambling mess this is going to be. But I know I missed this like two weeks ago, so bear with me.

Okay, I'm going to try and be normal here. I have, honestly, so many worms in my brain. They're dancing and stomping and I'm just going fucking nuts with how much is in my brain at the moment. And also I took excedrin this morning for my migraine and that had caffeine in it and it's more caffeine than I would normally have—anyway.

Y'all already know one of my brain worms, the whole omega verse sensitive nips omega Steve thing. Which, I will plug the post here because I don't have the energy (yes, I do, but I don't want to echo myself) to share all the craziness about that in one post.

I'm also thinking about young Steve Harrington, which is kudos to this post and lots of people's tweets over on the twitter. I won't go into it, same reasons as the omega verse thing so just...again, bear with me.

But! But the actual brain worms I'm having currently, in this very moment, also have to do with another post I made on here. I want to go more in-depth with, though. So, some days ago, I came across an Instagram Reel that was a clip from the YouTube video interview between Jon Bernthal and Dungeon Master Deborah Ann Woll.

So, brief brief summary of this video is basically: Jon Bernthal says that he wants to play D&D, Deborah Ann Woll then gives him a scenario of walking through the woods and while he's walking he hears snap of twigs, and then she basically prompts him with "What do you do?" And he responds, now I can't remember exactly what he says, but I believe it had something to do with investigating the source of the snapped twigs.

Anyway, the video is excellent and you all should check it out. She basically explains D&D in a way that would make sense to anybody, in the matters of asking a player or a potential player what they'd do in certain scenarios, then bringing in the "rougher" elements such as the History checks or Perception checks in the game.

And I want to write something along the lines of Steve approaching Eddie about D&D. Maybe he wants to play because Dustin keeps bugging him about it, but he's too nervous to accept. Maybe he just wants to know what it's like. Maybe he even wants to be a substitute player one of these days just in case somebody can't show up. Something, y'know, where he's approaching Eddie. But he's really, really confused about where to even begin. He's got a character sheet, he's looking at the manuals loaned to him or he even bought himself, he's looking at all these stats and all these options and he just doesn't know where to begin.

Also, brief intervene here, I would be basing this off of 5e rules because that's what I play and frequently toy with. So...don't be mad at me if I get something "inaccurate for the time". I, first of all, honestly don't care. And second, I was not alive in like 1977 when the game first came out. And there's nobody in my life who played it then or possibly has played it ever outside of 5e. Moving on.

So, he tries to explain his character sheet to Eddie, obviously getting a bit overwhelmed in the process. But Eddie stops him. Says something like, "Hold on, okay? Let's just take a baby step here. I'm going to give you a scenario and then I want you to tell me what you'd do."

And he lays out that same, or even just something similar, to what Deborah Ann Woll gave. (I'm going to base this off of the video. Very original, I am.) So it's something like:

"Okay, you've got a small dagger attached to your belt, it's concealed within a hilt. And on your back, there's a bow and a quiver—or a pouch—of arrows. You're walking through the woods. It's dark, heavy clouds hanging overhead, moon obstructed, you can barely see your surroundings. There's leaves under your feet, gravel, sticks. But then, before you can step your foot down next, something crunches in the distance on your left. What do you do?"

There's a pause. A long moment where Steve is considering his options.

"It's a far away sound, right?" Steve checks and Eddie nods. There's a little hmph from Steve as he continues to think. "Can I tell how far away it is? Is there a way to distinct the length of it?"

Eddie maybe smirks, eyes already glowing. "Give a perception check." And at Steve's befuddled expression, leaning in and brows furrowed, Eddie continues on. "So, you're going to roll one of those dice that you always see the kids with. The D20, that's the one you'd use right now. 20 is the highest you can get"—

"The best I can get. And 1 is obviously the lowest, so the worst."

"Right! So...let's say you were to pick up a D20 right now and roll it. You get a...a fourteen. And your perception, one of those skills on the top of your paper"—and Eddie would grab Steve's character sheet, to point out the number he already placed there—"this one right here. And on your paper, it looks to be pretty high. A sixteen is what you have. So...I'm going to ask you to add three more to your dice roll."

Steve squints at the paper. He doesn't take long to do the math, muttering a little under his breath. "Okay...I'd have a seventeen for my perception check." And he looks up to Eddie for confirmation, in which he gets. "And if it's possible out of twenty...that means I can probably figure it out well, right?"

Eddie nods with a smug hum. "You're already a natural." He leans back a little from Steve. Eyes away in thought. Goes on, "So, I'll know right away, based on that number you give me that you're extremely perceptive. I tell you...okay, the sound you hear is roughly ten feet away on your left."

"That's really close," Steve murmurs. "I think I'll...I'll ready that bow on my back. Take it off, grab for one of my arrows. Poise it."

"Mmm...And as soon as you get your bow in the right position, you begin to make out what seems like a pair of eyes. From the darkness between the trees, those eyes emerge closer and closer, revealing the large figure of a sixteen foot owlbear. Its feathers are spread wide, splaying defensively. Eyes glowing, it seems, yellow and bright. The body girth of a bear, but the head and mannerisms of an owl. It trills and squawks in your face. What do you do?"

Anyway, it would go from there. Tried to figure out a monster that wasn't an owlbear because that's what was used in the video. But uh...my brain is not being original right now, so that's basically the whole example from the video. But I just adore that video so much, the simple, yet impactful way she taught the basics. And I think it could translate so well to Eddie and Steve messing with D&D together.

Sorry for a long ass post lmao

Tagging (no pressure): @puppy-steve @scoops-aboy86 @ataliagold @marvel-ous-m @pearynice

@wheneverfeasible @rogueddie @sidekick-hero

[cacophonouscatharsis]

I've perused the Arcane critical tag somewhat, and a lot of people have a lot of valid points that I agree with. I haven't seen anyone talking about my biggest issue in terms of the events of the plot. My biggest overall issue is the writing which feels rushed, but like, an actual event that happened in the story that drives me nuts is Viktor and Jayce in the alternate reality. Maybe I'm missing something and my "media literacy" is garbo but I don't understand what happened. Keep in mind I know nothing about LoL lore so maybe there's some lore for some other thing that explains these things. Also keep in mind I am very verbose and I like to cover all my bases so things will be rambly

So the wild rune beneath the hex gate as I understand it from only watching the second season once. Is an unthinking unfeeling force. Just raw random arcane that can send you to alternate dimensions and timelines, and probably a host of other weird things. So it sends Ekko and Heimerdinger to an alternate reality where seemingly everything is exactly the same except Vi died, which has a butterfly effect that leads to a wholly different Piltover. Okay cool. Jayce, for whatever reason gets sent to a different reality. I presume it's because Jayce had the Hextech hammer and rune in his armband which set him apart. Unless Viktor from the doomed timeline somehow controlled the wild rune from across realities and intentionally summoned Jayce to his reality, but it didn't seem like that was the case. Anyway so Jayce gets there, see Old Viktor who then vanishes. Jayce sees doomed Piltover and walks its streets, getting spooked by Old Viktors robo slave people and then falls into a fissure, severely hurting his leg in the process.

My first issue is, why does Old Viktor just...let Jayce suffer? I know it's thematic or whatever to give Jayce a busted leg like Viktor, but why would a character whose all modus operandi is to reduce suffering just let his old partner starve and writhe in a hole in the ground? It doesn't seem to make sense for his character.

So he just kinda chills atop the hex gate until Jayce gets there, no doubt almost dying a bunch of times along the way. I'm sure Viktor coulda just teleported/fly up there with Jayce at any point. Jayce sees himself holding the hammer, which we later find out is the exact place he'll end up in our own reality. Therefore, I assume this doomed reality is exactly the same as the reality Jayce is from, only Viktor wasn't stopped, and achieved his "glorious evolution." By exactly the same, I mean Viktor was shot by Jayce and was resurrected to become evil Viktor in his own timeline just like he does in Jayce's.

In how the show plays out we don't see Old Viktor till the last episode, but Jayce does, and is sent back to prevent his own reality from becoming doomed. From my perspective Old Viktor and Jayce's actions from this point make no sense. Let's handle the former first. So if this doomed reality is exactly the same as Jayce's, other than Viktor getting his way, couldn't Old Viktor tell Jayce exactly what to do in order to avoid that from happening? I feel like if Jayce just let the Viktor of his timeline touch him and see what he saw, just like what happens later, Viktor would've come to the realization that his plan is wrong. He wouldn't have made the deal with Singe and Ambessa, Vander wouldn't have gone nuts and everything probably would've turned out a lot better.

In telling Jayce almost nothing about how to fix his own reality, Jayce decides "Okay so I gotta kill my Viktor and everything will be okay." Which leads me to my issues with Jayce. He....just kills Viktor. No talking it out, no allowing Viktor to see what he saw in the doomed timeline. Nothing. It seems absurd. And ONLY later when Viktor is super evil is when Jayce tries to talk it out.

"I just want my partner back." Then why did you try to kill him on sight? I'm sure from his perspective he doesn't know that Viktor is not yet wholly evil. He sees Salo being possessed and is like "Oh man it's already started." That being said, I don't think it makes sense for Jayce to go full murder mode from the getgo.

Again, maybe there's some big answer I'm missing that makes all of this make sense, but this is one of my biggest issues and I haven't seen anyone else talk about it yet, so yeah.

[e77y]

i love LOVE ur writing (& understand that sometimes things take a while.. lol i haven't posted in months) BUT i would love to hear about some things ur working on. or even just ideas u have.! obviously i am obsessed w grant (partially bc of how u write him actually haha ) but i would also love to hear abt any dndads fics in general ! ^_^

AHH TYSM!! This is so so sweet :’) I really love how you write Grant too! like sooo much. And I would love to hear about any of your ideas/drafts too actually 🙏

And YEAH as always there are a billion DnDads fic ideas (and lots of D20 stuff rn too) swirling around in my head haha, but I haven’t had a lot of time or energy for fic writing in a long time :( It makes me so sad bc I really WANT to but I just. can’t 😭 This semester in particular has been kind of draining creatively, because I’ve been doing a lot more creative writing in my courses/extracurriculars, which has been SUPER cool (I’m getting some published work and performances out there!!) buuuut sometimes a girl just needs to write his silly fanfic yk? 💔

ANYWAY ramble aside.. I think the main thing is that I really want to finish the final chapter of that one incomplete Scary/Lincoln fic I have. The annoying thing is that I’m like 70% done with it and have been for like a YEAR, but then I hit perhaps the most intense patch of writer’s block I’ve ever had 😭 Sighhh. I need to sit down and finish it someday soon bc I hate leaving it unfinished, but I also really truly want to revisit it. Perhaps this summer 🤞 which is. scarily soon omg. I still have so much left to do this semester 😭😭

But ofc the BIG project I want to work on is my Silver Linings series. I have three additional planned fics (shorter than the first part): one about Grant’s high school years (9-12th grade) with a focus on his friendships with the other guys (and also Andy lol); one about Grant and Marco reconnecting when Grant moves back to San Dimas for his librarian internship the summer going into his Library Science MA (so they’re like 23 or 24-ish?), and one concurrent with the original fic (set in 8th grade) but from Darryl’s perspective instead of Grant’s that looks more into Darryl’s relationships with Carol and the Oak-Garcias and his own mental health. I have ALL of them outlined, albeit not super thoroughly, but I can barely get through the first like 100 words of any of them before I get frustrated and overwhelmed by the scope of the project haha. I think it’s bc Silver Linings was originally something I went into not thinking I was even going to finish, let alone post, let alone write MORE chapters of and actually complete them all 😭 so I wasn’t so intimidated as I am now. Since I want my additions to the series to be at least half-decent yk

Some other DnDads things… there’s a big Wilsons-centric character study (who would’ve guessed HAHA) about dance that I really want to write. Because lots of them have some connection to dance! Darryl does his secret dancing classes, Grant and Marco do ballroom, Lincoln also took dance classes, and even Scary “when the beat drops, I can’t stop” Marlowe lol. I have a bunch of vignettes outlined for it. Same for a Darryl character study I want to do bc that man IS aromantic and I have a million little anecdotes I want to write about, but it’s such a Big thing that it’s daunting

Hmm what else brb opening my Google Docs ummmmmmm lol the first thing is a very silly crack-treated-seriously explicit Henry/Mercedes draft that I started for a word randomizer prompt challenge thingy. They are having bizarre hippie crystal sex. There is also a Nark one which is kinda crazy for me but the concept is um. It just works best with these two characters. I’m not gonna nsfwpost on main since I’m not gonna tag this post or whatever but like LOL. I might actually finish that one soon…? Would be an insane comeback to fic writing 😭 but I have actually been working on it for funsies so

Apart from that, I’ve got lots of oneshot ideas floating around. Mostly Grant angst or Darryl angst or Lincoln angst HAHAHHAA but also a healthy dose of Lark and/or Sparrow angst. No super interesting concepts, but maybe I’ll look closer or remember something good and rb this with more stuff. AND also a huge polydads (yes I am including Ron in this. Ron is always included. to me 🫶) teacher AU that I don’t think I’ll ever write anything for, but I do have a loose plot for it and teaching positions for all the dads hehe. Otherwise, it’s been mostly D20 Fantasy High stuff (specifically Riz- and/or Fabian-centric angst bc obvi. also lots of Fabian/Mazey stuff bc I like them. and I like dance as a lens through which to examine relationships and gender roles within them) and also um…. my superrrrr old fandoms that I’ve been revisiting for nostalgia’s sake 🫣

Okay sorry for the massive ramble omg I just realized how much I’ve typed? And it’s like. not even really coherent at all. But thank you for asking omg!! And for always being so supportive about my writing (and in general)! :’D ❤️❤️