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royaljude · 16 days ago

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Temptations ~ JB5

Genre ~ Fluff, Angst, smut(later)

Summary ~ Jude Bellingham, the very well known bad boy of Silver Ridge High school, runs into the shy, good girl, Vivian Rose. In a case of she fell first, he fell harder, and tensions high. What will happen when their paths collide? Will Jude’s reputation change? Will Vivian end up not being the so called good girl she is?

Warnings ~ non

A/N ~ first chapter to a new series! LETS GO!!

Pt.2

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November in Silver Ridge was grey, wet, and always a little bit miserable. The kind of cold that snuck through your jacket and made your nose sting. The kind of weather that made staying home with tea and a good book feel like the only rational choice.

Which is exactly what I planned on doing

—until my phone lit up for the fourth time in the last ten minutes.

Zoë [7:42 PM]

vivi i swear to god if u don't come i will show up at ur house in crocs and drag u out myself

Zoë [7:43 PM]

it's not even that serious. it's a bonfire. just come for an hour.

Zoë [7:44 PM]

jude bellingham is here btw 👀

That last text made my stomach flip in a way l hated to admit. Jude Bellingham.

The school's golden boy-if golden boys wore leather jackets, skipped class, and could set the whole hallway buzzing with a single smirk. He was chaos wrapped in cologne. And he didn't know I existed.

I stared at the messages, then at my bookshelf. Then back to my phone.

"I'll regret this," | muttered, tugging off my sweatshirt and digging out the one hoodie I owned that didn't scream I read romance novels under my covers at night.

- 20 Minutes Later -

It was louder than I expected. Music pulsed from someone's car speakers, people laughed too loud, and the fire crackled in the center of it all, lighting up faces I usually only saw from the back row of class.

"Vivian!" Zoë yelled, practically launching herself at me. "You came! I'm in actual shock.”

"I don't know why I let you talk me into this."

"Because deep down, you love me." She linked her arm through mine, dragging me toward the fire. "And because part of you is a little curious about seeing Jude Bellingham in person instead of just pretending not to notice him in history class."

I opened my mouth to deny it-and promptly froze.

There he was. Across the fire. Laughing with some senior I didn't recognize. Dark curls, hands shoved into his pockets, smile crooked and dangerous.

He wasn't someone who lived in my world, yet he did.

Our eyes met for half a second.

Maybe less.

But he looked at me. Really looked. Then he looked away.

Just like that.

"Okay," | whispered, throat suddenly dry,

"Maybe I do regret this."

"Come on let's go get drinks." Zoë said dragging me to a nearby cooler with a bunch of drinks in it.

I crouched beside the cooler, brushing a few stray leaves off the lid. My fingers hovered over a can of Sprite before finally grabbing it. Predictable. Safe. Very me.

Zoë cracked open a cherry soda like she’d done this a hundred times before. She probably had. I watched her tilt her head back, laughing at something Leigh said behind us, while I stayed silent. Always the listener. Always on the edge of things.

I sipped my drink and let my eyes wander.

The fire popped and sparked, casting flickering shadows across the grass. People huddled in tight groups, some on old lawn chairs, others standing close enough to blur the line between talking and flirting.

And there was he was again. Jude.

Still by the fire. Still surrounded. His laugh was louder this time—rough and lazy, like he had all the time in the world. Like nothing could touch him. He said something to one of the guys beside him, and a ripple of laughter followed.

I hated that I noticed the sound of his voice before anyone else’s. I hated that it lingered.

“You keep staring,” Zoë said under her breath, nudging me.

“I’m not.”

“You so are.”

“It’s not staring if I’m just looking.”

“Sure,” she teased. “And I only wore this shirt for the weather.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to laugh it off, but my stomach was tight. Because the truth was, Jude Bellingham wasn’t just a name people whispered in the halls. He was the kind of boy who ruined good girls in every book I ever read. The one with the reckless smile and too many secrets. The one you warned yourself about.

The one you couldn’t help noticing.

“He’s not even that attractive,” I said, mostly to myself.

Zoë snorted. “That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

I shrugged, eyes drifting again—only to find him already looking.

Not a glance. Not a half-second thing this time.

His eyes were on me, unreadable. Calm. Curious, maybe.

And this time, he didn’t look away.

I felt my breath catch, cold air sharp in my chest. His gaze was steady. Not flirtatious. Not smug. Just… there.

And then someone called his name. A girl. Blonde. Confident. Her voice high and sweet. His head turned.

Connection broken.

I looked away fast, like I’d been caught doing something wrong. My cheeks burned.

Sure I had a crush on him, it was wrong. He was the schools troublemaker. Plus it’s not like he’d like a girl like me anyway…

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A/N ~ comment on this post to be added to this series tag list!!!

#royaljude💙#jude bellingham #jb5 #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x oc #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude x you #jude x oc #jude x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic

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celestialgalaxyglow · 2 months ago

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Batfam and Danny, Part 42

Late evening, Jason and Roy's house in the Gotham suburbs.

Jason, Roy, and Danny were peacefully watching TV when they heard the door bell ring.

Roy: Who could that be at this hour?

Jason (grabbing his gun and moving towards the door): I'll get it.

Jason cautiously walked over to door, hiding his gun behind his back. Jason got to the door and looked through the peephole.

Jason: The hell?

Jason put his gun down and opened the door. Standing at door was Damian teary eyed.

Damian: Akhi!

Damian ran up to Jason and hugged him.

Jason (hugging Damian): Hey buddy, got into argument with dad?

Damian: Yeah...

Jason: He grounded you?

Damian: Yeah...

Jason: Did you tell anyone you came here?

Damian: Alfred knows.

Jason: Ok, let's get you warmed up, it's a cold evening.

Jason got Damian settled in, Roy made Damian some hot cocoa, and Danny prepared the guest room for Damian.

Roy: Fell better?

Damian: Yes, thank you silf.

Roy: Silf?

Damian: It means brother-in-law. I could also use zawj al-akh, literally meaning my brother's husband, but that's too wordy.

Roy (blushing): Husband?

Damian: You two are basically married.

Jason (blushing): Damian you can't just-

Roy: No, it's ok, I don't mind.

Danny: What would I be?

Damian: Ibnu al-akh. And Lian would be ibnatu al-akh. Is she already alseep?

Roy: Yeah, it's well pass her bedtime.

Jason: So what happened?

Damian: Baba got mad that I took my sword on patrol...

Jason: Akhi.

Damian: Don't you "akhi" me! That sword is part of me, part of my soul!

Jason: And my guns are part of my soul, but I don't take them on patrol when I go with you guys. Dad's team, his rules.

Damian: It's not fair!

Jason: Just be happy he let's you take your sword when you're out with Jon.

Damian: I might have overreacted running away...

Jason: You think?

Damian: 80% chance I did.

Jason: You're so silly, don't ever change Dami.

Damian (looking at Jason closely): You look different. Taller?

Jason: Yeah I thought I was going to stay 6' 6" but these last few days I've grown to be 6' 9".

Roy: I have mixed feelings about it, I used to be one inch taller, but now I'm two shorter.

Jason: Oh please you love it.

Roy: Fine I do, I love my tall bf.

Damian: So that's why baba has been in a mood lately, he's grumpy that you've gotten taller.

Jason: He always grumpy. The man wears eye shadow daily, like it's a fashion statement or something.

Damian (laughing): Baba is so silly.

Jason: That he is. But don't take your sword on patrol again or dad will send you to military school.

Damian: Jon will break me out.

Jason: Dad will send Jon to military school.

Damian: There's no way Clark or Lois will ever agree to that, even if they agree, Jon would die in military school.

Jason: Don't underestimate Jon, he grew up on a farm, if anything he'll becoming the new commanding officer of the whole school.

Damian (laughing): 50-50 chance.

Jason: Ok, enjoy your hot cocoa, and wash up, your tooth brush is in the cabinet behind the mirror.

Roy: It is?

Jason: Wherever Damian and Bruce got into a fight Damian spent the night at my apartment so I always have an extra brush for him.

Roy: Ah.

Jason: So wash up and go to bed.

Damian: Bed?

Jason: It's late, you should be sleeping.

Damian: What about Danny?

Jason: He's also heading to bed.

Danny: Damn it. Well I'll go wash up, good night.

Danny left the room.

Jason (ruffling Damian's hair): Don't worry bud, just enjoy your cocoa, and I'll tuck you in when you're done.

Damian (smiling): Thank you akhi.

(Master Post)

I used this site to get some of the Arabic terms (link)

#dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #jaosn todd #red hood #roy harper #arsenal #danny fenton #danny phantom #lian harper #damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian wayne al ghul #robin #jason x roy

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nejjirez · 2 years ago

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E! 42 MILES HEADCANONS ☆.

summary: e!42 miles relationship headcanons , whats its like being in a relationship with him.. , slightly suggestive !

! implied black fem reader

a/n: these are from my dr , so they're probably not accurate to how he actually is but you can leave if you dont like it .. anyways enjoy !.

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

hates seeing you all happy happy with boys other than the ones he trusts , he WILL come kiss you , hug you , ect

nigga is hella protective of you , watch someone get flamed for speaking bad about you 💀

his mom teased him for weeks about how he liked getting his hair done by you more than he liked getting it done by her

"mm , someone's in love huh? you normally only let me do your hair mijo." "mami she's my girlfriend chill"

he lovess seeing you in his clothes like he ill take pictures of you/with you with it on and giggle at it for hours .. days .. weeks ..

he know how to do braids , including box braids .. where my black readers at? he DEFINITELY sometimes does ur hair for u

"babyy , you got $180 for my hair?" "goddamn $180? go sit down ma i'll go buy the hair rq we not doin ts"

he is REAL serious about your attitude , this man Will grab you by your neck and tell you what place you're in ..

he only accepts your attitude when you're on your period , but he'll make sure you tone in down by sayin "ight mami chill .. i get it u on ya cycle and shit but chill"

KISSESS KISSESS AND MORE KISSESS .. this nigga LIVES for kisses. always kissin you in public or not and does NOT care

loves neck kisses , he started doing them to u when you're busy and he wants attention so when he saw you doing it to him it made him giggle

yall are the GOOFIEST AND FUNNIEST couple ever , wholee buncha play fights and laughing and shit

you can't take him seriously for shit , yall end up crackin up in the middle of an argument

"yo im sick of this shit bruh unadd him this his 3rd time textin u" ".. shess minee you stay away from her its not her timee ! head ass" "yo gtfo 😭"

he let you do his edges one day because you thought it was funny and begged him to , when he found out you tried to take a picture he stayed in his room until you agreed not to (you secretly still have one)

ARCADE DATES ARE A MUST (saying this cs i love them..) he always teases you before the two of you get there on how he's gonna beat u in every game

his hugs are the best , u could be breaking down and one hug from him is gonna make u feel all rainbows and sunshine ..

nigga is ALWAYS spoiling you.. you want it? mention that you want it around him? you gon get it within the next week/few days ..

ur house is his house .. his house is your house .. yall always at each other house..

"lets go home now im tired .." "which one?"

any insecurities? he gon kiss em

your #1 supporter no matter what you do or how wrong you are

whenever yall play roblox and someone stands on your head he WILL shoot them if its a game where he can kill people

he actually gets jealous so easily

HES ACTUALLY RLLY CLINGY

i had fun making these .. ill make more some other time

taglist: @marci-jean @gw3ndyswonderland @hiimayee @nokkihy @spiderheartzz @all444miles @444morales

#miles morales #atsv #miles x reader #spiderman atsv #e42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles headcanons

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anastasiaoftheironwood · 6 days ago

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At the Start of the War

Because the universe has an interesting sense of timing, I have a soundtrack of exploding fireworks to accompany my reading of the news that the US has joined the attack on Iran.

This is taking me right back to January 1991. We had all been on edge since Operation Desert Shield, a cooperative effort of 42 countries, began in August 1990. It was clear that it was not a going to remain a protective stance, and would lead to war (despite the fact that it is listed only as “an armed conflict” and not a “war” in US military history; the people who fought, the people who were injured, and the people who died do not believe there is a difference).

On January 17, 1991, Operation Desert Storm began, a military action to free Kuwait from the invasion and takeover by Iraq.

My friends and I were calling each other to check in (email was not A Thing then, much less social media or online messaging). “Are you okay?” “Do you have anyone deployed?” “What do you need right now?”

The US attack on Iran today is nothing like that. It is not done in coordination with our allies. It is not to check the ambitions of a would-be tyrant and restore sovereignty to a nation.

It is a blatant attack on a country that was not in violation of its treaty. It is a sop to Trump’s ego and an attempt to further fray the people. It is homage to Putin, and the manifestation of his plans. It is horrifying in every aspect.

My friends and I are checking on each other—mostly text messages. “Are you okay?” “Do you have anyone deployed?” “What do you need right now?”

And this is what we do as we face One More Damn Thing in a year that has brought us Too Many Damn Things already.

We still have to get up each day. Make breakfast, feed our children and keep them healthy and safe, tend to our pets and plants, go to our jobs (or look for a job, which is also a job), do laundry, have the car’s oil changed, pay bills, and also take time for our own self-care, from brushing our teeth, exercising, and taking our meds, to meditating and making necessary behavioral changes. Everyday life is a lot, already.

And now we have this work of trying to have a life during a war. All of those things still need to happen, and there’s a war lurking in the backs of our heads, and displayed in large type in the front of the news.

There’s fear, uncertainty, dread, and the frustration and anger at living in circumstances we can’t control, but to which we must adapt.

What do we do?

We protest this war as best we can. Some people can write letters, make phone calls, write speeches. Other people can be in the corridors of government. Others can be out on the streets. And some protest by getting up every day and getting through the day, in spite of it all. What you can do will vary each day, and there is no judgment on you for that—it’s true for all of us.

And we protect each other as best we can.

We check on each other.

We care for each other.

We stay in communication. We stay in community.

We do our best to take care of ourselves, so we can take care of each other. We make bread. We make art. We make time for what matters.

We make it through, day by day, hour by hour. By the minute, or by the second, if that’s what it takes.

So, I am asking you now: “Are you okay?” “Do you have anyone deployed?” “What do you need right now?”

#at the start of the war #connection and community

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miyseilish · 6 days ago

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hii!! could you write e-42!miles x reader where the reader is really artsy and draws all the time? I have this headcannon that 42!miles had to give up his passion for art bc of the prowler stuff and only has the time to doodle in his school books SO, the reader (when miles is finally free) takes him on a date where they paint eachother and helps him indulge himself in his past passions OUGHHH he makes me so sad i love him :((

free of mind

pairings : m.morales 42 x artsy!reader

genre: fluff, angst if u squint

a/n : finally writing 42 againn woo. I also need to update my masterlist and pinned so stay tuned ig

when he seen you draw he was flabbergasted

like you’re REALLY talented in his eyes

it made him really miss his passion for art before the prowler job. the last big art piece he did was his dads mural before he stopped art.

sometimes he would flip through his old art notebook reminiscing the time when art was all he did.

when he seen your art journal he admired your art style. it was flashy and stood out like how his used to

one day you surprised him with a date which took him by surprise

you two went to a park that you had two canvases set up with chairs

when you told him what was going on he tried shutting the idea down at first but after some convincing he finally let up.

when you guys started you could tell he used to be good at art. he started sketching you out on his canvas before painting, getting all of your features.

when he started painting he truly felt like himself again— he loved mixing the colors, shading, adding highlights to your eyes and nose.

you noticed how concentrated he was on his artwork and it made you feel warm inside (and snuck some photos)

when you guys were done you showed him your painting of him which made him nervous to show him yours.

in his mind he got dusty with art due to the break so he seen yours as better.

when he showed you your painting your jaw dropped.

it was very detailed and looked like he spent hours on it. he got all of your freckles and colored your irises like there was a galaxy inside of them

although he seemed embarrassed you reassured him that it wasn’t.

when you guys took your paintings home he thanked you truly, because it made him feel like his old self again.

after that day he tried to take time out of his day to draw, he found it therapeutic so he wouldn’t be so focused on his job.

he felt truly happy

—miyseilish 2025, my work will not be copied or paraphrased anywhere without my consent

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #miles morales imagines #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x gn!reader #miles morales 42 x reader #miles morales 42 #prowler miles #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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angel-bunnie · 3 months ago

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🦇 The Littlest Bat 🦇

Cg! Alfred Pennyworth Fic

Summary: Being a part of the batfamily takes a toll when you feel like you're not doing enough. Thankfully, a certain butler knows just how to help.

This is a late birthday gift for @cutiecorner !!! This is also my very first agere fic so I hope I'm doing it right! Sorry this took me so long! I got really nervous about posting it 😭 But I hope you had an amazing birthday, Mouse!! 🫂🩷🩷🩷

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Master, I do believe it's time for you to retire for the evening", Alfred's soft voice carried through the room. The sound reached a certain bat's ears.

"Alfred. You know I have to finish this project... Gimme another hour or two."

He sighed and looked down at his pocket watch. "With all due respect, Master, you requested "another hour or two" 4 hours ago."

Your eyes widened at that. How long had you been down here working again? Last time you checked the clock, it read 5:42 PM. You turn to the clock and pale as it read 12:57 AM.

When the heck did it-

"Master? Can you hear me?"

"H-huh? Oh... Yeah! I hear you, Alfred. I swear I'm almost done."

Alfred raised a brow and softly shook his head. His footsteps got closer until you felt a hand on your shoulder. The kind bulter smiled softly.

"Dare I say, I think it's time for someone to get some rest, wouldn't you say so, tiny bat?" he asked gently.

Now that he mentioned it, it had been an awful long time since you regressed. Long days and endless nights of schoolwork, watching screens, and fixing up what you could had taken a lot out of you. And a nap did sound really good right about now... Wait! What were you thinking?

"Alfred you know I can't do that right now. I need to finish this for Bruce! He really needs this done as soon as possible..." You huffed, rubbing your tired eyes in hopes of getting some energy back.

You tried to help in every way you could. Bruce forbade you to go on missions. But that didn't mean you couldn't assist in other ways. And most times, that meant helping tidy up the house, fixing up gadgets or drawing out designs for new ones when you weren't buried in schoolwork.

"I do remember, and I also remember Master Bruce telling you to take it easy for the next few weeks due to how late you've been staying up." The butler sighs and looks at you with soft eyes. He really didn't want you pushing yourself like this.

"It's admirable, little bat. It really is. But you're only human-"

"Don't." You quickly interrupted as you frowned at him.

"Bruce is only human and he fights crime every night! Tim, Dick, Jay, even Damian! If everyone's so human then why am I the only one who can't be out there?! I wanna help too!!"

Your eyes clouded with tears and before you knew it, you were having a full on cry. It just wasn't fair. To stay inside and do so little. At least in your mind it felt that way.

Alfred stood there patiently, waiting until the tension left your shoulders to gently rub small circles in your back.

"There there, little bat. Who said you're not helping? You do so much for everyone here. Even me."

A whine leaves your throat as you bury your face in his shoulder.

The butler reaches into his pocket and gently wipes your tears with his handkerchief. "You are always helping us, little darling. Even when you don't think you are. The boys have told me themselves."

This made you look up at him. "Really?"

Alfred smiled at the hopeful expression on your face. "Of course, dear. I'd say you help us all out the most. Remember when you helped me wash the dishes last week?"

"Y-yeah... But it wasn't that big of a deal-"

"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You helped me get ahead of the chores and I got to have a bit more time to myself."

A look of surprise came across your face. You had no idea it mattered that much to him to do something so small.

"And remember when you helped Master Tim test out his new program for his computer? Or when you helped Master Dick find all his laundry? Goodness, even Master Damian and Master Jason have needed your aid."

Now that you thought about it. You suppose you did help a little bit more than you thought.

"Now how about we get you away from all these screens and we get you ready for bed? Does that sound alright to you, dear heart?"

"'Kay Alfie..." You mumbled as you stood up from your chair, took his hand, and walked with him back to your room.

"There's my littlest bat. Good to have you back, dear." He smiles softly as he rubs your back.

You gave a sleepy giggle at Alfred's words. Maybe being the littlest bat isn't so bad after all.

#bunnie writes #sfw agere #sfw age regression #sfw agedre #age regression fanfic #sfw smolspace #age dreamer #age regressor #sfw interaction only #agere caregiver #agere blog #agere fic #agere fanfic #dc agere #cg!alfred pennyworth #caregiver!alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth x little!reader

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iplaywithstring · 4 months ago

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I've been having some Thoughts lately regarding the whole tradwife rightwing pipeline thing.

For context, I am an elder millennial. I grew up during in the midst of evangelical purity culture. I had a TrueLoveWaits bible. I was part of an evangelical church and went to university to become a minister. I knew people whose first kiss was "you may now kiss the bride".

My husband and I married in 2005 - it caused a stir because I was training to be a minister and my husband wasn't. Which meant I was going to hold a higher position in the church than he was. I was told not to apply for jobs in certain areas.

I had multiple meetings evaluating me for ordination in which I was asked if pursuing ordination was "part of a feminist agenda".

Outside of church life, I was a feminist. I was raised by feminists. My aunt is on lists somewhere. My dad is a feminist. I was getting very conflicting messages is what I'm saying.

In 2006 I had my first kid, and while on maternity leave (up to a year long in Canada!) I realized - due to the above and MANY other reasons - that I couldn't be a minister. My theology had shifted. It wasn't going to work.

At the time, tradwives as they are now were just starting to take shape. There was a push within evangelical churches to "go back to basics". It was tied up with prosperity gospel - if you could afford a good life on one income, it meant you were blessed and God liked you better, right?

and I have to admit I tried. I was already feeling like I had done something horrible by abandoning my "calling". And I was already staying at home. I tried to submit. My husband is deeply egalitarian, we were both miserable and felt like we were failing. I wasn't good at it which had a really negative effect on my sense of self.

I had always intended to work though - before I'd gone on maternity leave I made more money than my husband, and neither of us minded. While on leave I got pregnant again. Ok, stay home another year or two, saves on childcare cost, and then figure out what's next.

That's when the "you're wasting your time/brain/education" stuff started. I was told I was setting a horrible example for my children. Then I became chronically ill and could not work. I was told by other women - other mothers - that taking time off to raise my kids and be at home was antifeminist and letting the patriarchy win. I was told I wasn't valued as a mother.

Then there were all the concerns - you don't have income? What if your husband cheats/lies/dies? You'll be one of those welfare moms. At that point I could not work - I was sleeping up to 20 hours a day, trying to manage debilitating pain and chronic illness. Nothing I did was good enough. And I was scared about being on a single income. We were not one of those "blessed" families. One year our net income was 24k - for a family of 4! It was hard, but we kept food in the fridge and a roof over our heads. It was enough. But I wasn't enough, I was doing it wrong.

Now I'm almost 42. My daughter is in university. My husband makes a lot more money. My health has stabilized and I went back to work in 2022. I'm finishing a master's program and I'll be working more next year. Our finances are stable, and if I needed to, I could live independently (I'd have to stop school to do it and working full time would wreck my health, but hey, we don't think about that part because capitalism....).

I still feel like I'm not good enough for either world - I failed at being a tradwife and at being a feminist, depending on who you talk to.

Except that's wrong. I did not fail at anything. I navigated a lot of challenges and found a solution that worked, I created stability for my family and I found a way to achieve things I'm proud of.

I don't know if I really have a point here, except maybe things aren't quite so binary as we tend to think. People don't always get to choose their circumstances, and where someone is at one point might not be where they end up. I didn't need the (I'm sure well meaning) women pushing me down when I was in a hard spot. It didn't help, and it didn't make me want to join with them.

#this is my life #thoughts #in which I go on and on #this could have also turned into thoughts about femininity #and what it means to be a woman #and deconstructing the evangelical christian definition of femininity #but I'll save that for another time

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aquaquadrant · 1 year ago

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grbbrgrr. scurries toward you. I offer thee pathbubs fluff, fresh from my mind fortress.

Patho. falling asleep with dbubs’s clock to his ear.

gives you a cupcake skitters away

(offering received, considered, and accepted. however, i have substituted your fluff for angst. i hope this is satisfactory.)

~*~

"watch this!" dbubs shouts, before leaping off the cliff into the water below.

<player>dat -7063fdce-39ac-4a12-d836-a990c45b2bb0

patho leans back just enough to avoid being splashed. the water in this jungle lagoon is clear and blue, brighter than most bodies of water he comes across. tall, thick trees surround them on all sides, creating a natural barrier from the mobs of the jungle. it’s a beautiful place, and one of his favorites to visit when he’s here.

155 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 17/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 28 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,683.952 / 39.11563 / 253,589.263 block: -12,683 39 253,589 chunk: -791 15 7,849 facing: south (towards positive z)(1.5/5) client light: 6 (0 sky, 6 block) biome: error:crimson jungle local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 16/247 + 0/8

dbubs surfaces with a gasp, his wet bangs plastered to his forehead. “did you see that?” he crows. “that was- i must’ve done a- a complete 360 spin about five- no, ten times! world record, first try!”

“oh, yeah,” patho agrees with a smile he doesn’t feel. “yeah, that was very impressive.”

they’re almost out of time.

patho has known this since he woke to find a little weeping vine attempting to burrow into his arm, right at the seam where flesh meets metal. this is an event that only happens when he’s overstayed his welcome, and the jungle can no longer tolerate his presence without trying to claim him. that vine was easily removed, putting off the inevitable for a few more days. but he can’t ignore the sudden restlessness that overtakes him now, a buzzing in his very core that fills his mind with static and his limbs- organic and mechanical alike- with the powerful urge to move.

it’s hard to explain, his need to wander. it’s like every moment he’s not traveling, he can almost feel the infinite borders of hels expanding, spreading into new horizons, and the thought of staying put is unbearable. it doesn’t matter if he actually goes beyond the loaded chunks or not- a feat that’d take years, to be sure. just getting on the move again is enough to quiet the itch.

(it didn’t use to be this way. it didn’t start until after he built his communicator into his new arm, fusing himself with it- but he’ll never admit this, never confront the possibility that it might’ve been a mistake. it’s easier just to leave.)

besides, he still enjoys the various business he gets up to with the other denizens of hels. his services as a redstoner and a data analyst are in high demand, and he has a reputation to uphold. he can’t throw all that away to stay here. that just wouldn’t make sense. it wouldn’t be logical.

patho reaches for the clock at his hip. it was the first gift dbubs gave him. early into patho’s first stay, dbubs decided he needed a clock of his own, so he’d always know when it was time for them to sleep. based on its position, nightfall is only a couple hours away.

“well, c’mon!” dbubs pesters him, his haughty voice echoing off the smooth walls of the cliffside. “what’re you- what, are ya scared of a lil water? huh? just- you just try and beat my record, you- i bet you can’t!”

“alright, alright,” patho chuckles, shrugging his jacket off. “you asked for it…”

won’t be long, now.

~*~

that night, patho leaves his eye on.

dbubs, curled beside him, notices this immediately, and deep down, he knows what it means. it took a while- how long, he isn’t sure- for patho to grow comfortable enough to turn his cybernetic eye off while they slept. but ever since then, he does it every night… up until the last night. every last night, like clockwork.

already, dbubs can feel the familiar weight of sleep trying to take him. caught in the jungle’s day-night cycle, he has little choice in the matter; he sleeps every night without fail. but he fights it anyway, biting back a yawn.

“tomorrow,” dbubs starts quietly, “uh, do you wanna- i- i had this idea for a new build, a perfect build, of course, and i’m gonna need a- a super smelter, for- uh, for all the terracotta-“

“dbubs.” that solitary red eye gazes out from the dark. “you know i’m not made for staying.”

dbubs shies away from the words like an insect from sudden light. “and- and so i was thinking,” he continues, as if patho hadn’t spoken, “we could do a uh, you know, maybe a bamboo farm? for the- for the fuel? i- my perfect redstone prowess could make this easy- easily, of course, but um… i uh- euugh, you- you know they always say, sure enough, that two brains- uh, two geniuses, genii, are better’n one.”

“yeah?” patho breathes a soft, empty laugh. “is that what they say?”

“and- well, yes! yes, of course!” darkness creeps in from the edges of dbubs’s vision; he clings tighter to patho. “and… and uh… n’you can learn all ‘bout my new… new dbubs redstone clock… pat- patented design, a‘course…”

“of course.” patho’s lips brush across his forehead. “better get some rest, then.”

dbubs struggles to keep his eyes open, but it’s as if his lashes are lined with iron. he presses his face in the crook of patho’s neck, breathing him in, that redstone-and-gunpowder scent; bitter and metallic.

“don’t,” he murmurs, consciousness escaping him quickly. “please…?”

“night, dbubs.”

the jungle sleeps.

~*~

far from the jungle, patho lays down in a shallow cave carved from netherrack.

168 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 15/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 27 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -11, 987.629 / 30.91778 / 252,896.204 block: -11,987 30 252,896 chunk: -780 15 7,835 facing: east (towards positive x)(1.5/5) client light: 2 (0 sky, 2 block) biome: error:nether waste local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 5/247 + 0/8

he’s put enough distance between himself and the jungle that he’s confident he can sleep for a few hours before setting off again. the surrounding biome is one he’s well familiar with; barren and empty. with a wall put up to shelter him from mobs, he’s finally safe enough to turn his eye off.

that won’t be the case anymore, once he gets closer to the more populated chunks. the risk of being caught with one eye nonfunctional is too high. it’s just something he has to deal with.

(of course, he could’ve built a cybernetic replacement that simply functioned like the eye he lost, but he thought himself clever and built in a data processor to provide him with valuable information, giving him an advantage over anyone else in his field. so this is the price he pays for it.)

he reaches for his clock. there’s only a couple hours left before the sun will rise, unseen beyond the bedrock ceiling, and dbubs will wake to an empty bed.

but for now, patho tucks the clock to his ear and closes his eyes, letting the steadfast ticking finally lull him to sleep.

~*~

#hermitcraft #hels to pay au #HTP fic #helsmits #pathbubs #my writing

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scrubbinn · 19 days ago

Text

In Stars and Systems: Confession

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(Siffrin) [Loop] |Mal Du Pays| 42 days after the King’s defeat (Loop 2)

No. No no. Nononono no.noNO NO!!!!

You're awoken by your fighter pulling you from that nightmare. No… not a nightmare. The awful empty feeling in your stomach tells you everything. The fire, the fighter's burning-

You reach for the bin next to your bed and retch. You can feel the fighter rub your back. He hands you a glass of water after you finish your body's attempt to make an empty stomach even worse. You down it in one gulp. It crashes against empty walls and leaves you feeling even more pained.

“Another nightmare?”

“Yes. Just a bad dream.”

How many nights has this happened where it's become second nature for him to so casually comfort you. This is all your fault, you made it a habit for him to take care of you. Disgusting. Your own habit takes over as you wear a paper-mache smile and lie to the people you're supposed to love.

“Let's go back to bed. Everything is fine now that you’re here.”

“Sif… Nah, I'm gonna stay up. I'd only get a couple more hours if I did sleep. Either way I'm gonna need some coffee. So in the meantime…”

He takes your hand and cups it between his.

“...you can tell me what's wrong.”

Stars, you've already ruined everything. Stardust has to talk to him. They need to be the one to comfort him! You remember what they said and all the kindness and care they put into those words. You remember his talk with the housemaiden and the kid and you don't… you can't, be the one to say those things. Because they wouldn't be real. Because there's no way you can be real. Here. In this stupid blinding body stealing Stardust's time with him.

“... Nothing's wrong… Just another nightmare.”

It's nice having so many excuses now. Severe anxiety, depression, PTSD, chronic fatigue and severe craft fatigue. Those were all the things the healers found wrong with you. The things none of you could hide. And none of you ever plan to share the rest. No one needs to see how broken you really are~ But your excuse isn't convincing your fighter. He's busy studying your face.

“Sif… hey, look, this is going to sound weird… aw crab, how do I say this? Please don't take this the wrong way ok? Um…..

He's doing that cute pose he does while thinking. Arms crossed with his eyes closed and head tilted back. Occasionally opening one eye to make sure you hadn't somehow scurried off.

“...aw, forget it. We can talk about it later.”

“What, are you planning to confess to me again~”

He blushes and reminisces about the confession, but it turns sour as he bores into your expression. You don’t know what kind of face you're making anymore. There’s fear gripping and clawing into your heart. Tightening your fists until your knuckles turn darkless. The pain keeps you grounded as you try not to think about how much he’s scaring you.

“No. I should say what I'm thinking… Sif. Siffrin. Sifarooni. I love you. And I told you the same thing when we beat the king. It was wonderful to finally tell you, and I couldn’t have done it if you hadn't pushed me. But I’m still stuck waiting for your answer…. Man, I'm being a real jerk, but I could really use a hand here. It's getting harder to tell where our relationship stands. I love you Sif, like, romantically. Do you think you’ll be able to give me an answer soon? No pressure!!! But… aw crab I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry!”

You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t your conversation. How could you let your heart flutter for someone else's man?! But you are here. Listening to him and staring into his eyes. And now you have to say something. What would Stardust say? Can you even remember how to be Siffrin?

|...Be honest with him. It doesn’t matter if you mess it up. He’ll hate us eventually. We’re too broken to be loved.|

“...I do love you. But there's so little I remember in my life. I still don't know the difference between romantic or familial love. I… don’t think I'd be good for you. I'm rotten goods, Fighter. And I don't want to upset you.”

Besides, this isn't your Isa. You don't remember your real family, but you know this isn't them. Why couldn’t you go back? Anything would be better than being stuck here as… what? A trophy? A faded guide? Some paraded corpse?

|We can only end up hurting them.|

You take a deep breath and let your eye wander the room. The light snowfall outside. The dry warmth of the room. The fur rug of some animal you forgot the name of. The dawn light creeping in and illuminating your partner's perfect face. He's lost in thought, trying to find the right words to your admission. You do your best to drink in the atmosphere and remind yourself that you're no longer staring into that burning wreck. With a mangled pile of ash and flesh looking back at you.

|It will still happen in a few hours.|

You could do without the side commentary.

[Do you actually have anything worthwhile to say? I don't even understand what you are, or why Stardust thinks it's a good idea to keep you around.]

|...I’m here to protect him.|

[You’re doing a poor job. Stay out of this, sadness. Or would you rather I force you out.]

|...|

Good, it seems to have left. At least you think it did. You can't understand Stardust’s compassion for that creature.

Your attention rolls back to your fighter. Sitting in bed, desperately trying to find the right words. You look down at his hands. They're conflicted. Unsure of how close you're comfortable with. You've already ruined this loop. Maybe you're allowed to play pretend, just for a bit.

You take both of his hands into yours. Your thumbs rub against each crease and knuckle. Your eyes lock with his, as you silently convey those same words Stardust did on that day.

“You always know how to give me the confidence I need, Sif. It's another thing that I love about you…”

He takes a deep breath.

“Alright I get it. You still need more time. I don't want to push you into something you're not ready for. But please don’t call yourself rotten. You're as fresh as a newly baked croissant!”

You can't help but let out a small laugh at that. You're starting to feel fatigue set in and you let your body flop back into bed. One measly loop is already taking this much out of you, huh? How many did you go through again?

“Hey… can I ask you something else?”

There's more? You stare at him. Still holding onto one of his hands. Waiting for whatever question he's about to ask.

“Hoo man, look, don't take it the wrong way but… you're not acting like yourself Sif, like, at all. You feel like a different person.”

You force yourself to stay as calm as possible. Easy enough when you're too tired to do anything right now. What did you do wrong? No, of course it was obvious. You aren’t Stardust, you'll never be Stardust again. Any idea that you could pretend was foolish. But that's what you are aren't you? The fool? The cosmic joke? Might as well keep the charade going, because the alternative sounds excruciating.

“Haha, what? Who exactly do you think I am, Fighter? It's me, Siffrin~”

“Well, we could talk about how you didn't seem to recognize me last night; or how you keep calling me Fighter, it's a cute nickname but it's not your usual one; plus there's also all the little ways you used to act. I was waiting for you to stick your tongue out at me for calling you a croissant.”

“Figh- Isa, that's so-

“And how you wince every time I say your name, Sif.”

…

You want to loop back. But you can't muster the energy to do so. One loop and your fatigue keeps you bedridden. That’s not good. You don't think you could end your own life like Stardust… Look at you. You can't stop comparing yourself to them. You're rotten to the core~

You want to stay silent, but the fighter won't take his eyes off you. You doubt you could sleep while he watches you like this. Just say something. Anything.

“...I… I'm not Siffrin now…”

“You're not Sif?... Wait. Oh crab, are you trying to change? Become a different person like I did? Oh. Oh! Crab yeah! Oh! Wait! I am so sorry, I didn't mean to force you to say it if you weren't ready!”

This could be your out. Your ticket to remain unseen again. You're already used to looking away from him… but the words are already spilling from your lips. What are you doing?

“No, Fighter. I'm not Siffrin. I'm Loop. As in a completely different person Loop.

He stares at you, as if your face will jog his memory. “The star?… That Loop? Wait! HUH!?!? What are you doing in Sif's body?!?!”

“Tell the whole inn why don't you?... Stardust, Siffrin, is still here. Somewhere in this head. We're just sharing now.”

You watch him sit completely frozen in place, still processing what you said. It's cute~ It’s like when Stardust told him about their little kiss. He must have been so scared that his partner was gone forever. Lucky. He doesn't know how much it hurts.

…

You're talking too much. You shouldn't be telling him any of this. Did the universe put you here to be Siffrin's little secret spiller. You made him promise no more secrets but that was his job to open up, not yours!... But it's nice. You can spill your guts about everything with the knowledge that he'll forget it all in the end.

You poke his side and let yourself smile. “Do you enjoy staring at me that much?”

“Huh? Oh! Right! So… ok. I guess looking back, it does make a few things make sense. Were you the one I found last night?”

“No, that was someone different.”

“Do they have a name?”

Change the topic. “You're taking this awfully well? Your best friend is suddenly sharing their body with other people. And you find out you've been sharing a bed with strangers.”

“Huh?... OHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” He buries his face in his fists. “JFBHHDIJFBJDKBRHGFHIHD… Please tell me I didn't try flirting with you at any point. Wait no.. That whole love talk! I’M SORRY!”

You giggle. Tears roll down your cheeks “I don’t mind. I suppose I might have similar feelings to Stardust anyways. Maybe you’ll end up falling for me too?~”

You’re disgusting. But…

This is fun! You never thought about talking to them again. You assumed the closest you could get was playing your role as Siffrin. With a body and personality that now felt so foreign to you. Stuck inside a mind that sees you as nothing but the star to guide others to a better life. A life you could never call your own. But in this one beautiful snowy dawn, you finally have a moment you can call your own. So you let yourself have fun. You tease the poor man with jokes and quips. Always giving half truths to his questions. Artfully dodging the ones you could never answer. You don't feel like sharing your life story to this familiar stranger. But it's entertaining to watch him rattle off every guess to your previous appearance.

“Ok, but like, you never did answer my first question. Why are you in Sif's body? How does that even happen? Is it a star thing?”

“...I don't actually know. Stardust and I talked, I felt myself fading back into the arms of the universe, then I found myself in this brain.”

“That's it?”

“That's it.”

“and you're not going to tell me how you knew about Sif and the loops or who you are?”

“Not a chance~”

“I'll have to ask Sif then… When can I talk to Sif?”

You missed your cue and let your real emotions seep out onto your face.

“Oh, crab I. Sorry, was that rude to ask? It's just that-”

“I'm sure you'll see them tomorrow!”

“Alright… to be honest, I'm still in shock about this whole thing. I mean, at first I thought this was some sort of prank, but you don't act like Sif. Like at all. And as much as I don't want it to be true, it wouldn't be fair to deny you either. Sounds awful to be honest. Stuck inside the wrong body like that. Can't exactly change yourself without Sif getting upset about it.”

Somehow it hurts even more when he hits it dead on. You still have to smile anyway. “Any other burning questions, or are you going to keep staring me up and down? You might give me the wrong idea, Fighter.”

His blush is so cute. Is it the same shade as your Isa? Why can you remember Stardust's life so perfectly, yet you can't remember a single thing about your own. Just another gift the universe bestowed upon you to help you play your role. Your stomach twists at the thought.

He's about to say something, but you decide it's best not to hear it. You place a finger on top of his lips while you bat your eyes in the most over the top way you can muster.

“Better keep that answer to yourself, Fighter. We have so much time to get to know each other~ Give me a chance to grow on you first.” [Like a cancer]

You shouldn’t be here, you’re getting too comfortable. You need to investigate what happened in the first loop. You can’t let them know anything is wrong. You can’t stomach recounting what happened. Moving your body feels impossible, but you have to. Move. Move! Move!!!

“Sif!”

The fighter catches you as you roll off the bed and almost hit the floor. That was… probably the most embarrassing way you could have found out your legs aren't working. All it did was fill your body with adrenaline that it can’t use. Reassure him, before he suspects something.

“I’m fine, and I told you Fighter, and my name isn't Sif. You really don't believe me, do you?”

You meant to make the words sound playful as you flick his nose, but a little bit of your true feelings slip out, deflating them.

“I. Sorry. Loop. I'm sorry, it's... This is a lot to handle and- Wait, no, hold on! Why'd you roll off the bed!? Also are you ok?!”

“I wanted a drink. I'll be fine. I just need a few hours of rest and a glass of water. I'll be fine after that.”

You wish hope. The truth is that it's taking every spec of willpower and energy not to sound so tired. Stardust could only mumble when these bursts of fatigue hit. At least you can enjoy the superiority of being better than him in this regard.

Your fighter stands up. “Hang on, I'll go get you a glass.”

“No need.” Calls a tired and astute voice.

Your researcher stands in the open doorway, carrying a tray of cups. The smell of coffee hits you all at once. It smells delightful. You all trade pleasantries, greetings, and vague explanations. Something about it being too loud, wanting to check on you after you had another night terror. You didn't mean to zone out through it all, but you can only keep your focus held on one thing at a time right now, and the pungent scent of caffeine is all you can think about.

“Siffrin?” The researcher looks at you with curiosity from the other end of the bedside table. Your fighter sips a cup of coffee behind you, miserably failing to hide his indecision about revealing your identity.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?”

“I asked how you're feeling, Siffrin.”

“Oh, I’m fine. A bit tired, but that's nothing new. Say, you wouldn’t mind if I had a sip of your coffee would you? I could use some energy.”

“Not a chance. You know what the healer said. Caffeine is only going to make the problems worse, not better. And besides, when did you start enjoying coffee? I was under the impression you and boniface held the opinion of coffee tasting like dirt.”

She hands you a glass of water. Before you can even begin to force your arm to move, the fighter gingerly presses it to your lips. The glass feels unwashed, and you swallow some dirt or something. It still helps, even if it is too cold for your tastes.

“So, Siffrin, care to explain what happened last night?”

“Not particularly!”

The researcher stares at your fighter. He looks at you with those soft adorable eyes. You nod at him and close yours. Having to hear this whole talk again is the last thing you want to deal with. If there's one good thing about being trapped in this body, it's how automatic it feels to zone out for conversations. Speaking of this body, where has Stardust gone? They’re probably exhausted after what happened in the previous loop. They could have always relaxed next to you? Rather than running off to… wherever they go in this brain of yours. Perhaps if you focus. Imagine the space in your mind…

You’re shaken back to reality. “Si- Loop? Are you alright? Do you need some more water?”

“Hm, what? Oh. No, I'm alright.”

“Gems, you're worse at asking for things than Siffrin is.”

“So you believe me? Just like that?”

“I doubt Siffrin would attack me for any reason. And if I'm being completely honest. I was getting close to a similar theory. I recently finished reading a book on a medical condition close to what Isabeau described. So no, I don’t think your story is all that far fetched. But you will have to introduce yourself properly next time. No more making Isabeau explain everything.”

“That’s… Thank you, researcher.”

“...”

“How long have you three been aware of sharing a body?”

“About a month…”

“HUH????!!!!!!!!!!”

“A Month??!!!!!!!!”

You flinch. Looking away from them to hide your guilty face comes second nature to you.

The researcher sighs. What does she see when she looks at you? Something pitiable? It has to be.

“Right. I shouldn’t shout. My apologies. But really Si- Really?! an entire month? I thought Siffrin would be more open about trusting us with this sort of information. If you all keep secrets like this, what sort of trust do you expect us to have for you? It was already getting hard to trust Siffrin when we climbed the house. Now I find out he's hiding two others in our group… It’s not a very good first impression.”

“M’dame, maybe we should take it easy. Loop’s already been through a lot today. We should let them…” He looks at you.

You sigh. “They/them.”

“Thank you Loop. Anyways we should let them get some rest.”

“You’re right. But I still have a few questions I’d like to ask.”

“I’ll give you one for free~”

“How generous… You were the one I talked to back when Siffrin’s fever broke, weren’t you?”

“Is that your question for me?”

“Hah. No. Not quite. I wanted to ask how well you know us? The text I mentioned before; I had only skimmed it while my theory was starting to form. There was the mention of different voices being unable to share memories. Would you say that's accurate?”

“It's more like a one way door. I remember everything for Stardust, er, Siffrin. I don't exactly know why, but I do. But Stardust doesn't remember my side of things. You could try to remind them, they might have vague memories of the key points. But they'd lose the finer details.”

“And the third voice?”

“It keeps to itself. I don't trust it but Stardust seems to. Do with that information what you will.”

“Thank you, Loop”

Isabeau pokes your cheek. You glare at him.

“Sorry, it's just. Your cheeks get all dark when we call you Loop.”

“Must you point that out, Fighter? Ugh.”

The researcher chuckles. “It's a pleasure to meet you again, Loop. I look forward to getting to know you better, now that the world isn't ending. We'll try not to be too harsh on you for keeping this a secret. But you could stand to be a little more open with us. I promise you're in safe company.”

She places a hand on your shoulder. Stardust asked them for more physical contact. To help him finally get used to it, and make up for an entire year of little to no contact. You wish they'd ask if you were fine with it…

Is your vision getting dizzy? The fatigue must be getting worse. You feel like you're about to throw up.

“Siffr… Loop?”

The researcher's face is suddenly shaped by fear. She presses a finger to your lips and wipes something away. You taste copper on your tongue. You turn to the fighter, his hand is covering his mouth, blood trickling between his fingers. The two of them collapse onto the ground. You tumble on top of the fighter as you reach out for him. What is happening? Your mind is swimming. You're starting to sweat and heave. Isa grabs your body and pulls your arm to face him.

“Loop, are you ok?”

Even now he's still calling you Loop, still worried about you over himself. You smile at him. Stars you must look like a monster to smile while all of this is happening. Tears fall from your face. You can't help but laugh. You'll be going back. All of this was meaningless. He'll forget everything. He'll forget you. Your ruined game of pretend is over. You knew it was supposed to end like this. How blindingly foolish you are to think this would ever have a happy end.

You can hear Odile call out for help but her throat is too torn to let out anything but a gasp of air. You smell smoke coming from outside. The fire? But that's supposed to be hours from now? What did you do to speed it up?

There's a creak in the doorway. A person stands in front of you all. It's hard to tell their features with your vision blurring, but they move with such certainty that it feels like they could snap you in half with barely any effort. But that's not the most striking feature of him. Eyes that stare directly at you, like two sunken full moons with deep crescent eye bags. Long darkless hair, so pure that you could call it shining, and a waxy smile full of nothing but pure joy. They laugh to themself before lighting a match and tossing it onto the rug. You hear the fighter mumble something through a mouth of blood.

This is it. This is where your fantasy ends. How will you die? Fire and time, or poison and blood? Your fighter is screaming for you. There's a bright flash and loud noise as he holds you in his arms, comforting you.. and… you… you.

Feel

Tug

On your

Stomach.

Isabeau is sleeping next to you. You don't make a sound. You don't cry in fear. You don't feel anything. Siffrin and Loop tried their best. Now they can rest. Now, it's your turn to fix your mess.

[Loop gained their own memory of confession, They will never forget this]

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

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Sorry for doubling the chapter length this time around. IT WILL HAPPEN AGAIN.

See y'all in chapter 7 for even more blorbo torture!

-💗Mayday

#in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #isat siffrin #isat loop #isat isabeau #isaloop #isat au #siffrin system au #In Stars and Systems #creative writing #fanfiction #fanfic #isat fanfic #plural writer #plural artist #cw: fire #cw: poison

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pugh-bug · 1 year ago

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No.42 Chapter 2

Art Donaldson x reader : slow burn friends to lovers

I really hope you enjoy this Chapter, I’m enjoying writing this a lot. Somehow I’ve never done proper friends to lovers before, I tend to do established relationships. Enjoy! 🎾✨

Part 1

———————————————————————

It had been nine days since Art moved in. Nine days and you weren’t quite sure if you were more desperate for him to stay forever or leave immediately. Truthfully, your anxiety had never been as up and down as it was now. Sometimes you’d catch yourself watching the door waiting for him to return when you were writing an essay in the living room, only to be met by Patrick and scream at the sound of the key turning.

Your nerves were fried from frantically changing whenever you thought Art might come into your room to ask you a question and from convincing yourself you hadn’t locked the shower when he was home when you had. You always did. It was already becoming a little exhausting worrying so much about him catching you existing freely in your own home but Patrick had no such worries. In fact he seemed to be walking round the flat naked more often than he did when it was just the two of you- something neither you or Art condoned.

The biggest pro to having Art around was that you had his kinder perspective on issues as well as Patrick’s unforgiving honest one. It had already become normal to have Patrick passionately raising his voice at you for not being angrier at someone whilst Art reassured you that it was okay you were giving them a second chance. It was like having a devil in one ear and an angel in the other. You often refused to pick a side as it only riled the two of them up.

——————————————————————

1:45pm - text from Patrick

Staying at my girls house this weekend ;) there’s pasta in the fridge for you guys

Your classes had already finished for the day, there were only so many hours your professors could regurgitate the same theory to you before giving up. With the end of your time at Stanford University on the horizon you’d have to start actually thinking of job ideas that paid. It was a sickening thought, one that your professor kept forcing you to think about but you pushed away.

You clicked your phone to standby and thought about how you were going to fill the weekend without Patrick’s antics. Art could very easily spend the entire time whacking tennis balls back and forth until he sweat out his body weight but you had no such luck. Tennis wasn’t actually your thing at all, it was the main thing you and Patrick had always disagreed on. For years he tried and failed to get you to play with him: ‘be my doubles partner c’mon you know you want to!’ but you were not easily convinced. You didn’t mind watching Patrick play though, to be a good friend, but the truth was if Art wasn’t on the court you were disillusioned.

By the time you heard Art return, you’d proof read your essay seven times and submitted it. That had been the last job to do before your weekend off and it was over.

‘Y/N?’

He called out for you like he’d done it a million times, almost like you were married. You couldn’t help the way you shot out of bed, feeling elated to see him again despite it not being 9 hours since you last had.

You poked your head out of your room only to be met by an extremely sweaty Art Donaldson in your hallway. He was wearing your favourite outfit of his: red and white gym wear and a cap on backwards. It could have easily looked douchey on someone else but Art could pull anything off.

‘I’m gonna get a shower. Take out after?’

You barely heard his offer, instead focusing your gaze on the way his wet shirt clung to his muscles. He almost missed the way your eyes refocused as you diverted your cloudy stare back to his face.

‘Yep perfect.’

Patrick would be offended you chose pizza over his homemade leftovers but he’d live.

‘Okay great.’

Art had a strange relationship with fast food, he craved it but he was terrified at the thought of any and all decisions holding his tennis career back. You’d already noticed how much longer his workouts were the day after pizza.

Just as you thought to add that you wanted extra cheese on your half you felt the familiar sensation of your period starting.

Lock…

‘Art?’

He couldn’t hear you over the shower water.

‘Art!’

If only you had two bathrooms.

‘Donaldson I’m bleeding to death!’ You banged your fists loudly on the door. Was he deaf? You were going to leave a bloody mess on the carpet if he didn’t let you in soon. A few frantic movements later, including a distinct unlocking sound, and you were rushing pash Art to the toilet without a word. You knew he’d leave the second he realised what you were about to do but even so you didn’t care. In a few seconds the bathroom would look like a murder scene with or without him as a witness.

‘Sorry…’ you cleared your throat, looking up at Art, who was standing confused in only a towel. In your embarrassment you almost didn’t notice, choosing instead to rush into the safety of your room away from Art and his dripping torso.

Twenty minutes of scrolling later and your stomach was rumbling uncontrollably. Like clockwork Art knocked on your door, entered and told you in a quiet voice that the pizza arrived. When you didn’t respond he smiled. ‘Extra cheese.’ Even Patrick forgot to add that for you sometimes.

——————————————————————

‘Dip please.’

Art obliged, passing you the garlic sauce from his position on the floor. He’d sat down there to set up the ancient dvd player (‘Jaws’ wasn’t on Netflix) and never got up. ‘This film terrified me as a child.’ He mumbled, mid chew. ‘I didn’t go in the ocean for almost three years.’

A smile formed as you pictured a tiny Art Donaldson hiding under the covers from the shark he found too scary to look at. You’d never seen a photo of him younger than about fourteen but you could imagine that he was an adorable kid - the kind strangers called ‘a bundle of joy’.

‘I love the ocean, it’s one of the only places I never get sick of. Never.’

Art turned to look at you, eager to show he was listening.

‘Any time my mum could she’d take us to the beach for picnics, you know 1000 steps?’ He nodded at you. ‘That one was my favourite. There was a secret pool. I used to pretend I was a mermaid.’ You suddenly went quiet, remembering one time you fell and cut your leg on a particularly unforgiving rock and your Mum had to drag you home crying because you still wanted to play mermaids. You were a dedicated child.

Art took a large bite of pizza and looked up at you on your little sofa thrown. ‘You don’t do that anymore?’

‘Do what?’

The left corner of his mouth curled up slightly, an almost smirk. ‘Play mermaids.’

‘Ah, no. Not anymore.’

You dusted off the crumbs from your palms and lowered your head, feeling almost genuinely sad for a moment not to still be young and free: away from University stress and job worries. Away from all worries really.

‘Shame.’

Before you could say anything the best scene came on and as Quint recalled the doll quality of shark eyes your phone lit up.

8:16pm - text from Patrick

Her parents don’t like me but I’m slowly winning them over they’ll love me in no time hows art? Is he being boring?

Art watched you type for a moment before making a correct assumption. ‘Is that Patrick? Tell him he owes me five dollars.’

8:17pm - text to Patrick

We’re fine watching jaws rn Art says you owe him five dollars?

8:17pm - text from Patrick

I really don’t.

‘Art, he’s saying he doesn’t.’

Suddenly filled with energy, Art leapt off the floor to grab his phone and type feverishly to his friend. You watched him type for a moment, his fingers moving with impressive speed almost enough to make you picture something interesting. Almost.

‘What were you betting on? Do I even wanna know?’

If it was tennis scores, Patrick usually lost those. You’d been there in 2019 when Nadal won the US open instead of Medvedev and most of the living room had paid the price for it. Rest in peace glass side table. So long red planter pot.

Art suddenly looked guilty for a moment, he put his phone down and breathed. ‘He bet that you wouldn’t see me half naked until two weeks in.’ So not a tennis bet. ‘I said it’d be earlier, yknow given how small this place is and how I sometimes forget to lock the bathroom.’ Now you were confused, Art had never once forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Not even when he was, similar to you, so desperate he sent Patrick flying backwards to clear a path. The man loved his privacy.

‘I figured it was tennis related.’ You shrugged, finishing the last of your pizza.

Art scoffed slightly, before clearing his throat. ‘Not everything me and Patrick talk about is tennis related.’

‘But it is mostly about tennis right, I mean, it’s your entire life. It seems to be who you are, that’s why I made you watch ‘Jaws’ instead of SkySports for a change. Mix things up a bit.’ You smiled, playfully, knowing he couldn’t disagree with anything you said.

‘My entire life is not tennis.’

‘Isn’t it?’

He didn’t respond.

Chapter 3

Masterlist

#art donaldson slow burn #art donaldson friends to lovers #art donaldson fan fic #challengers art donaldson #challengers art donaldson x reader #challengers #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson x reader #art Donaldson #art donaldson fic #Mike faist #challengers slow burn #friends to lovers

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borathae · 2 years ago

Text

↳ Index [Snippet #42 - Soul Healer]

“When Jungkook is the best remedy against the worries of a shitty day.”

Genre: married life!AU, domestic Fluff

Warnings: OC had a shitty day, Kookie is the best hubby ever, he knows exactly what to do to cheer her up

Wordcount: 2.1k

a/n: this couple will always bring me comfort. i love them so much, you guys can't even imagine. enjoy besties ehehe🧡

You are having a shit day. Not a bad day or a terrible day, not even an awful day. No, a shit day. A completely and utterly shitty ass day.

Everything which could have gotten wrong at the restaurant went wrong, you had to deal with ten entitled rude bricks today and you have been hungry throughout most of your shift because you had the brilliant idea to leave without breakfast today. Till this hour you ask yourself why the fuck you did that.

Your lovely, amazing, beautiful husband Jungkook had a free day today. Which meant he stayed home, cleaning and gardening. He also did the laundry eventhough it was your turn this week. He loves laundry, so he didn’t see it as annoying.

Jungkook is rolling up to the restaurant an hour before closing. Like he promised back then when he rescued you from this really scary man. He never breaks his promises. Only when sickness keeps him in bed and even then, there was this one time where he wanted to come pick you up with a forty degree fever. Truly, he is the best and most stubborn husband ever.

He drove you to work today, wishing you a good day which sadly didn’t happen. You had a shit day.

Jungkook parks his bike in front of the restaurant and gets off skilfully. You are by the entrance, watching him through the windows. He is wearing his black gear today, taking off his helmet smoothly. He shakes out his hair, combing his fingers through it afterwards. His bangs look flat because of the helmet, but you think he is still so incredibly cute. He looks up, meeting your eyes.

His face lights up instantly, he lifts his arm to wave at you. You must admit that merely seeing him makes you feel a little better already.

You retort the wave with an honest smile, before returning to the task of closing up. Your guests left for the night, as did your workers, so you decide to lock up sooner than on other days. You don’t want to be at this stupid place any longer and because you are the owner you can decide when your shift is done. It’s done now. No more stupid ass work.

You step outside, meeting Jungkook who has just this moment stopped running to you. He stops with a bounce.

“Hey baby”, he says, pulling you into a kiss with his arm around your waist. It is quite zestful, leaving you to stumble into him. You like when he is like that. It’s always very hot when he shows you just enough of his strength in a gentle manner.

He steps back after the kiss, but keeps his hand on your lower back.

“What are you doing? Are you already closing up? Fuck, did I miss the time?”

“No, you didn’t. I just didn’t wanna wait another hour. Just wanna be home. Did you cook?”

Jungkook knows not to be offended by your snappish tone. Instead, he grows worried.

“I did, yeah. What happened, darling? Did someone hurt you?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Can you drive me home now?”

“Of course.”

Jungkook drives you home. You like the time you share on his bike. You love the feeling of the cool evening air on your skin, love the fact that you can hug him and you especially love the moments where he stops at a red light and instantly begins rubbing your arm or knee. It’s those small gestures which count.

Once home and the bike gear is shrugged off for the day, you leave for the bathroom.

“I have to shower. Is dinner ready or can I go?”

“No, you can go. I waited with the finishing touches. Take your time sweetie, yeah?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

You greet Bam on your way to the bathroom. Seeing your dog really cheers you up as well and you enjoy a few lovely minutes petting him. You love this dog so much.

Soon however, Bam runs off to play with his pet giraffe (the same one which was once so big next to him) while you continue your way to the upstairs bathroom.

Washing off your shitty day helps a little, changing into your favourite lounge dress definitely helps and leaving the bedroom to the smell of finished dinner most definitely does.

Jungkook prepared it outside on your back porch with some lemon candles burning to fight off mosquitoes.

He is still in the kitchen, finishing up dinner. Bam is in the living room.

“That smells amazing”, you say, hugging him from behind.

He leans into you. He is wearing a simple grey t-shirt and black jeans with a belt accentuating his waist. He dressed up. It’s hot that he did.

“Mhm yeah”, he says.

You sway your bodies gently, giving his waist a tight squeeze.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you with my behaviour before”, you say honestly.

“You didn’t, baby”, he assures you, “I get it. You had a stressful day.”

“Yeah”, you say and smush your cheek against his back, “and I’m so hungry too. Today’s a shit day, seriously.”

“Poor baby”, he says, rubbing your arm, “you can look forward to the food. It’s gonna be amazing.”

“Mhm, I know it will be. What did you cook?”

“Corn soup and spicy buckwheat noodles. I know the combo is kinda weird, but I thought I’d bring out the soup as a last minute remedy.”

“Remedy?”

“You’re upset and the soup’s your favourite. It’ll cheer you up.”

You inhale deeply and kiss his back. He knows you so well.

“Thank you”, you say.

“Mhm”, he pats your hand, “go sit down, I’m bringing the food.”

You don’t have to be told twice. Jungkook follows with the food, serving it to you while you look at him. You are so in love with this man.

He sits down on the chair next to you so you can talk.

“Dig in”, he tells you and turns to his bowl of soup. You stop him before he can, having his cheeks in a gentle hold between your fingers so you can pull him into a kiss. He hums in surprise, but soon chuckles and kisses you back with a smile on his lips.

You don’t really deepen the kiss as this was meant as a thank you. You still stub his nose with your own however. That much is mandatory.

“You’re the best person ever”, you whisper, caressing his cheeks, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“If it helps you, I’ll gladly do it. Actually, I’ll do it even if it doesn’t really help. Just want you to feel better. Did that make sense? Can something even make you feel better when it doesn’t help?”

You chuckle because of him. He is so endearing.

“It helps me. I already feel a lot better. I guess. Just-”, you release a loud sigh, sagging your shoulders as you send him a defeated pout. He takes your hand.

“What’s up? Tell me.”

“Can I really?”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for you. Just tell me what you need. A listener or advisor?”

You love him so much. He is asking the right questions. You love this man so much.

“Listener. Just need to rant.”

“I can do that. Tell me everything.”

And so you do. You tell him every single thing which went wrong today and Jungkook reacts to all of it with comradery complaints and gasps. You tell him about all the rude assholes you had to deal with and Jungkook calls them names until you can’t help but giggle. You also bring up the stuff again which you already complained about, but which still bugs you and Jungkook reacts with just as much enthusiasm as the first time.

And once you have finally finished your long rant, the corn soup is finished and you are halfway done with the noodles.

You haven’t said anything new for five minutes. Jungkook knows that it is safe to change the topic now.

“How are the noodles, baby? Can you tell a difference?”

“I can, yeah. They taste nuttier. What did you do?”

“I added one more spoon of perilla oil. I think it’s really bringing it together. Don’t you think?”

“Definitely. I really like this recipe. You thought of something yummy.”

“Thank you. Although, I think that I can do even better next time. I’ll try a better ratio of seaweed and noodles. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Okay”, you say and pinch his cheek, “Mister Never Satisfied”, you say with a fond smile.

“Leave me alone”, he mumbles and pouts, “it’s a virgo thing, I can’t help it.”

You chuckle, “ah yes, the stars are making you do it”, you tease.

“Hey”, he pouts harder. He even talks whinier, “I’m here for you in your troubles and suddenly I get bullied outta nowhere. That’s unfair.”

You laugh and lean in for a smooch to his cheek.

“I’m sorry. I was just teasing, I’m sorry if I genuinely upset you.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m not mad”, he assures you and chuckles, “it’s just not funny.”

“Okay”, you say in a snicker and move back to continue eating. You slurp up the noodles, humming agreement, “those are so good, baby. I’m serious. The soup was amazing too.”

Jungkook wiggles his shoulders and looks at his noodles with a boyish grin. He eats them with his grin growing and his chest fluttering in happiness. It makes him really happy when you like the food he is making for you. He can still remember the days where he didn’t even know how to cook ramen and now he’s cooking your favourite food for you and you genuinely love it. He feels like such an accomplished person, and like a true husband, when he can cook for you.

You get up to clean once you finished dinner. It’s a rule. The person who didn’t cook, cleans the kitchen. It’s a fair agreement.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook gasps, following you with widened eyes.

You stop in the doorway to inside, studying his features. He looks almost offended right now.

“Cleaning up. Why do you look so offended?”

“Because the hell?” he says and gets up. He hurries to you and almost rips the dirty plates out of your hands, “you don’t gotta clean tonight, that’s my job. Go sit your ass down on the couch and watch something”, he says sternly.

You chuckle, “okay, I see how it is. Shouldn’t I at least help you carry the pots inside?”

“No”, he insists loudly and his brows furrowing, “just sit down and relax.”

“Fine”, you give up and spank his butt gently, “you’re so stubborn.”

You are around twenty minutes into your show when Jungkook joins you on the couch. He kept the shirt on, but took off his pants. It’s cute.

“Did you take off your pants?”

“Yeah, they were uncomfy”, he says and plops down next to you, “I thought I’d dress up, but then you didn’t even tell me that I’m handsome”, he says and adds in a murmur, “is really mean that you didn’t.”

You chuckle, studying his face.

“What? I’m serious”, he says and pouts.

“Gosh baby”, you get out and close the distance between you and him to smooch his cheek. You are hugging him as you do, looking at him with fond eyes, “I’m sorry. Of course you were handsome. You still are”, you say, swaying him from side to side, “my handsome hubby.”

Jungkook smiles, “nice. You’re so pretty too”, he says, making you chuckle fondly.

“Thank you”, you say and peck his cheek one last time before you cuddle into him. You rest your head on his chest while he rubs his hand up and down your arm. You feel so safe in his embrace. He is like your very own cocoon of comfort you can return to after a long day.

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose, running your hand up and down his tummy.

“I love you, Kook”, you tell him, tilting your head up.

He meets your eyes and smiles softly, running the back of his hand down your cheek.

“I love you too, darling”, he says, leaning down to kiss the bridge of your nose. Your eyes fall closed, a smile curls your lips. After the kiss, he caresses your cheek once before returning to watching the show. And you settle against his chest to get lost in it with him.

“This show’s so good”, you say.

“Yeah”, he agrees and laughs with you as something funny happens on screen.

You can have all the shitty days in the world, but at the end of them they don’t really matter because you have Jungkook to find comfort in.

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mintkookiess · 2 years ago

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Miles Morales headcannons #5

Dates with 1610!Miles and 42!Miles

So i made this at 3 am, brain half asleep, half dead, so this hasn’t and won’t be proofread 😔🤚🏻 but I still hope you enjoy EHE

1610!Miles

Now during the first dates, he’ll want to be cautious once he had actually mustered the guts to ask you out

So he’ll be sticking with the classics like asking you out to dinner, watch a movie, etc.

But as time goes by after yall started to date

He’s bound to spice it up because he already knows about your faves a lot and just wants to make you the happiest in the world

Midnight dates

I can see him just visiting your room after he’s done with Spiderman duties and asks you out on a spontaneous date because he’s missed you

“Hey there sunflower, wanna go grab some food and head up to the—“ “Miles you don’t even have to ask.”

So he brings you to like some rooftop by swinging the two of you while you held on to the paperbags of some food you guys bought

And the two of you just chill, while he sketches the scenic view (but most likely has you in it)

Dates with his art

What I mean by this is that there can be dates where he asks you to come by his place and tells you to sit down

Don’t ask just do it

Spends a good hour drawing you on his sketchbook

He does show you after!

In reference to the sunflower nickname, whenever he draws you he always puts a single sunflower on your hair 🩵 boy’s a sucker for symbolism

During these tho he likes to take pics of you on his phone without you knowing

Example is the one time he asks you to sit by his window sill and tells you to look out the window, he sneaks about a thousand pictures of you in that angle

Boy makes it his wallpaper

On both his phone and laptop

He tries to hide it cause you might think he’s a creep

You wouldn’t tho

Bonus headcannon: I see Miles having a dog, and the both of you treat it as your child. Sometimes you’d take turns with bringing your furry child home, and it has become one of Miles’ excuses to see you

42!Miles

Now this one is a lot more confident, why? Because I see this guy observing you before he asks you out

Would do heavy research so he doesn’t fuck up

Like asking your friends abt what you like or simply watching you from a distance

So from the get go, his dates are already inclined to your preferences

Like cafes that have the same vibe as you?

Movie dates to movies that you love (he doesn’t care if he hates it, how can he hate something that you like??)

Midnight dates

I see this Miles being more of a sentimental or chill type of guy

Nothing too extravagant but definitely enough to make you swoon

His midnight dates would consist of him going by your place with a bunch of food, ready to spoil you with it alongside cuddles and kisses

Like the both of you cuddled up in your bed and his arm wrapped around your shoulder while he kisses the side of your head

He also likes to whisper sweet nothings to you

“I love you so much mi querida,” “Your hair is so soft today,” “You smell really good” “Making me this addicted to you, unbelievable.” “Why do you always look good even in the dark, hmm?”

He stays there with you in his arms until Uncle Aaron is bugging him for the nth time for missions as Prowler

Dates with his art

I am deadass sure that the only person he ever shows his sketchbook to is Uncle Aaron

But now there’s you

It takes him a while to tell you about it

I’m talking months

“Did you know, I draw.” “What?” “Like drawing with the whole sketch, paint, stuff—“ “How come you never told me?!” “Just shut up and take it.”

He shoves his sketchbook to your chest and looks away so you wouldn’t see him blushing

And you see the bajillion drawings of you that he made, and he managed to make you look so pretty that it may have increased your self esteem a bit bc was this how he actually saw you? like damn

So once he showed you it was like some weight being lifted off from his shoulder

His “date with his art” would now consist of the both of you going to some place that inspires him

He makes you pose, this boy would instruct you on how to do that; the posing, where your hands should be, your facial expression, etc

He’s gonna make you his little model

Bonus headcannon: would have a cat in contrast with 1610!Miles. A black cat specifically. He would name it after some name that would be so close to yours, and he’s overly clingy to it (not as much as he is with you tho) the cat also loves you of course (but seemingly antisocial to everyone else) (its very 42!Miles behavior)

Tag: @ii01vp

For those who wish to be on taglist feel free to msg