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m00nsbaby · 1 year

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The invisible barrier.

(Jake Lockley x F!Reader)

Tags - Warnings: Jake doesn’t know about Marc or Steven. Angst, smut, fluff, everything. Most of Jake’s dialogues are in Spanish, most of reader’s are in English except in November - December. Word count: 4,9 k. (Lol, sorry) Summary: A whole year trying to understand Jake Lockley. (Literally)

January.

"¡Hola!" (Hello.) The sudden voice next to you made you jump as you made the most important and complicated decision of the week.

Would you choose pretzels with dark or white chocolate?

Reluctantly, you turned to your side to see a man standing just a few inches away from you. On another occasion, you would have probably jumped back or fled to another aisle in the supermarket, but the apologetic smile on his lips and the puppy-like look in his eyes told you that he didn't want to be in this situation either.

"Perdón, ¿Podrías decirme qué dice aquí?” (Sorry. Could you tell me what it says here?) The words came out quickly from his mouth and you furrowed your brow in confusion. Your fleeting and ridiculous Spanish classes had never been of much use, even less now that you had the opportunity to help an attractive man.

"I don't... Huh." You cleared your throat, searching for a way to say, 'Maybe I can't help you, but I'll move heaven and earth to try.' Dramatic? Yes, of course, but what more could be expected from a hopeless romantic? Many love stories began like this in your mind; this was a scenario you had imagined at least twice before falling asleep. "No hablo español." (I don’t speak Spanish.)

The man blinked a couple of times, as if realizing that he had gathered courage for about 15 minutes only to lose his dignity like this.

"Oh." He cleared his throat, nodding afterward. "Thanks," he said shyly, as if trying to hide his accent.

"No, no, let me help you. What do you need?" You turned the bag of Cheetos he was holding in his hands so you could see the list of ingredients on the back as he was asking. Both of you were guessing what you were saying. Your gaze scanned the list, nodding your head when you detected the problem. Everything was written in English.

Sure, your aisle companion had an extra problem on top of that. The letters were too small for his poor eyesight, and he would rather ask for help from strangers than give up on the idea of using glasses.

"Give me a second." Your fingers quickly handled your phone as you took the bag from his hands.

You took a photo and the app took care of the work for you, translating every word on the red packaging you held. You didn't hesitate to take a step forward and extend your hand far enough for your phone to be at the stranger's ear level, who didn't question your methods for a moment.

He just stood still, listening.

"¿Colorante rojo número 6?” (Red dye number 6?) He questioned when the voice function finished. And you quickly scanned the phone screen, trying to find the part on the list that seemed closest to what he had just said.

Well, seis = 6, that one was easy.

"Yes, 6." You saw him smile and take the bag back from your hands to shake it in a celebratory manner. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why 6?" He guessed based on how you tilted your head to one side what you were asking.

"Soy alérgico al número 4, o al menos eso creo.” (I'm allergic to the number 4. Or at least, I think I am.) He pointed to his throat. "Siento comezón en la garganta cuando como cosas que lo tienen.” (My throat itches when I eat things that have it.")

Did you understand anything he said? No, nothing beyond the number 4. So, you smiled and nodded, eliciting a warm laugh from him.

He was cute.

"Gracias." (Thank you.) It seemed like he understood the basics, just like you. It was better to use his words than to deal with the pronunciation of the "t" and "h" together.

"It's okay." You shrugged while continuing to smile in a friendly manner. It wasn't because the stranger was incredibly attractive; you always behaved this way with people, or at least you tried to. "Enjoy your Cheetos."

Another giggle. "Cheetos," he repeated, imitating the way you pronounced the brand's name.

You rolled your eyes playfully and went back to the pretzels without saying anything else.

Well, there went the potential love of your life. Both of you were too shy to engage in casual conversation. You were aware that pretending to have the confidence to do so would be a lie.

Silently, you paid for your pretzels covered in white chocolate, looking around in case the guy was still nearby. After a few seconds, you gave up. Well, it was nothing out of the ordinary, even with one more chance, you wouldn't have approached him. More than 20 dollars for a bag of chocolate covered pretzels? That must be a crime, the first time you bought one . . .

"Hola de nuevo.” (Hi again.) The leather of his jacket brushed against your skin as you bumped into him. He was in the exact same position as you, one hand holding his Cheetos, the other clutching the receipt he was trying to read with squinted eyes.

You almost had a heart attack.

"Hi." You smiled, your cheeks betraying you as they turned rosy just from being around him like this. You had to take a step back after the clumsy little push you gave him.

"¿Tienes cómo regresar a tu casa?” (Do you have a way to get home?) You frowned at the question. This only confirmed that your crazy fantasy wasn't going to work out; there was a huge barrier between you.

He could see the confusion on your face so he pointed outside. It was raining heavily.

"Oh." You had been so engrossed in your pursuit of him that you hadn't thought about that. It wasn't a terrible problem, though; you could just wait until it calmed down.

You could spend another $20 on an umbrella in the worst case. Or call a car to take you the 10-minute walk to your house.

"I'll just wait." You had to remind yourself not to get too deep into your words.

"Yo te llevo.” (I'll give you a ride.) He quickly said. "A ride." The way the 'r' rolled off his mouth was enough to make you dizzy.

"Are you sure?" This couldn't be happening. This genuinely couldn't be happening.

"Of course, I'm sure," he repeated, smiling. This couldn't be happening.

It couldn't.

That night, you ran together to his car in the rain, laughing. He opened the door for you, even though it meant a few extra minutes of water poured on him.

You gave him directions through your phone, and you learned how to say "cuadras" (blocks) to guide someone next time, and he kept telling you something you didn't understand, but he noticed you were just nodding for him to keep talking.

He said goodbye with a kiss on your cheek. He used a word similar to "custom" to justify it, ‘costumbre’ maybe.

Oh, and you exchanged numbers. It turned out the stranger, Jake Lockley, worked as a taxi driver most nights. You understood that because the words "taxi" and "noche" were in your mental dictionary.

February.

Your first date was a disaster.

You never considered that to spend the day together, you had to exchange more than 5 words, and Jake stained your beautiful pink sundress with an ice cream that didn't even taste that good.

Oh, at some point, you tripped too. You were so focused on trying to understand one of the anecdotes he was telling you that you ended up on the ground with a scraped knee.

That wasn't so bad, though. I mean, you had Jake on one knee, checking yours. He even had you step on his thigh so he could clean you up with his ice cream-covered napkin.

When the day came to an end, he took you home. You noticed he had memorized your address, making it easier for both of you. You hummed a song together to cover the silence of two people who had to resort to other means of communication than talking.

"I had fun." Lie, this hadn't been anything like you imagined a first date, not after reading books or watching movies.

He nodded silently as he got out of the car to open the door for you.

And even though the date was a complete disaster, Jake kissed you.

He kissed you against the closed door of your apartment, holding you by the waist as if you intended to escape from his arms, begging you silently not to separate from him.

"¿Repetimos la próxima semana?” (Second date next week?)

March.

Text messages flowed throughout the weeks. Depending on the day, one or the other used the translator to send messages that the other could understand.

Sometimes they were just silly pictures, mostly of cats. You found a silly liking for sending him videos and photos of different animals in romantic situations, hugging each other and such, with only the description 'us.'

Jake responded ‘nosotros’ with different emojis depending on the day. He liked the white heart.

His car became familiar to you, as well as the late-night drives with music. You wondered if Jake had started neglecting his work to spend more time with you, and although it sounded selfish, you didn't care much.

You enjoyed his company.

April.

Your fingers played with his curls while both of you rested comfortably on your bed, you on the pillows, Jake on your abdomen.

He was surprisingly interested in one of the old books you hadn't touched in a long time.

"Jake?" He immediately put the book down to look at you. "Can you help me with a word?"

"¿Ahora?" (Now?) he asked.

"Right now."

"¿Cuál palabra?" (Which word?) He closed his eyes as your fingers continued to enjoy playing with his hair. It was so soft that the gentle caresses you gave were enough to mess it up.

"Boyfriend."

"Novio." You stretched your free hand with difficulty. He opened his eyes again, looking at you with interest as you struggled in the least attractive way to open one of your drawers with one hand. Something cracked in it.

You put the bag of Cheetos on his chest, clearing your throat afterwards.

"¿Quieres ser mi novio?” (Do you want to be my boyfriend?)

May.

"Jake?"

The car hadn't started yet when he turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as if to ask what was wrong. You stretched enough to touch his knuckles, which were marked with a purple tone and scraped.

Your gaze went to him. It was as if both of you knew how to communicate through looks.

"No sé qué me pasó. Mi teoría es que golpee algo mientras dormía.” (I don't know what happened. My theory is that I hit something while asleep.) He frowned as he extended his fingers to get a better view of them. It looked like he had beaten up someone, and he couldn't deny that it hurt, especially when he gripped the steering wheel of the car.

"Are you still having those strange dreams?"

"Weird dreams," Jake whispered to himself as a way to remember your words. "Sí, sueños raros.” (Yes, weird dreams.)

You pursed your lips without saying more as you brushed his knuckles with your thumb, as gently as you could.

"Let's go." You finally gave in, returning to your seat with an unconvincing gesture.

June.

"I don't understand football." You said as you walked hand in hand, leaning some of your weight against his body.

Technically, neither of you were drunk; you were just flushed from the heat of the alcohol, giggly and a little tipsy. Jake had mentioned how funny it would be to go to one of those bars where they show football games for fans, even though neither of you were fans. Choosing a team randomly to support, drinking things with strange names, and maybe sharing spicy wings sounded like a good plan.

That was your Friday night.

"Tampoco yo.” (Neither do I.) Jake was doing his best not to laugh. He failed miserably.

When you reached his car, you leaned your body against it, and your hands ended up on your boyfriend's shirt. He immediately knew what you wanted, bringing both hands to your waist and leaning forward, closer.

"Is it hot here, or was it the 4 margaritas we drank?" You whispered while trying to contain your smile.

"Debe ser ese vestido.” (It must be that dress.) His lips brushed against yours. The sudden change in his voice made you shiver, so husky. “O por lo menos es lo que me está poniendo caliente a mi.” (At least I know that's what's making me hot.) It was the last thing he said before kissing you as if his life depended on it.

You moaned into his mouth, pressed between his body and the car. The kiss was wet as his mischievous hands slid under your dress, squeezing your ass firmly enough for it to hurt. Not in a bad way. "Jake." You complained as you looked around to make sure no one was walking by to see you.

"Date la vuelta.” (Turn around.) Apparently, your Spanish only worked in moments of convenience because you obeyed immediately. You turned your body with difficulty, mainly because he refused to let go of you. You felt his erection against you as soon as your cheek collided with the cold metal of the car. He was rubbing against your ass while biting your neck to his liking, sucking and licking your skin until he marked it. "Fuck, Jake." You whispered with your eyes closed. You could have cum right there with just his kisses and soft touches. Fortunately, he was more considerate because one of the hands that rested on your waist little by little went between your legs, your dress was already raised enough to only have to worry about your panties, he brushed his fingers over your abdomen before sliding his middle finger between your lips. First he wetted it well before moving up to your clit. His touch made you tremble and hiss. "¿Un par de besos te tienen así, corazón?” (A couple of kisses have you like this, sweetheart?) You could hear the smirk on his lips as his finger traced circles against your most sensitive area. "Imagínate como será cuando esté dentro de ti.” (Imagine how it will be like when I'm inside you.) A shameless moan escaped from you. "Eso quieres, ¿No?” (You want that, don't you?) He kept talking in your ear while he distributed one or two kisses between your neck and your shoulder. “Sentirme duro. Profundo.” (To feel me hard. Deep.) He simulated thrusts between each word, his hip pushing yours harder against the car and against his hand that kept playing with your pussy to make you whimper. You nodded without opening your eyes. "Con palabras." (Use your words.) He said clicking his tongue.

"Yes please." You begged desperately while trying to get air through your mouth. "Buena niña.” (Good girl.) You swallowed the complaint of feeling him take his hand out of your panties, just because you immediately heard how he started to unbutton his jeans. "Escupe.” (Spit.) You could feel his girth between your legs, letting you know that there were no more clothes involved. You took a few seconds to be able to clean the fingers that were inside you before with your tongue, making Jake groan just by imagining what you would do with your mouth in another situation. When you were satisfied you spat into the palm of his hand as requested. He wrapped his hand around his cock, and covered it with your saliva. He used the same hand to accommodate it between your lips. A sigh of relief left your mouth when you finally felt it inside you. A muffled whimper accompanied the way your muscles suddenly relaxed, as if that was what you needed. "Mierda, amor." (Shit, love.) As Jake's forehead rested against your shoulder, he muttered under his breath. "Voy a terminar rápido si sigues apretándome así.” (I'm going to finish fast if you keep squeezing me like this.) His voice made you dizzy, you mentally thanked all those days you spent understanding each other because his words could have been enough to push you to the limit. It didn't take long for both of you to pick up a delicious rhythm. When he pushed his hip forward, you pushed back to make him go deeper. When he was pulling back, you were pulling forward almost taking his member all the way out to prepare for his next thrust. You were so close you had to bite the hand he put to your mouth to keep from screaming. "¿Vas a terminar para mi, mi vida?” (Are you going to finish for me, my life?) He whimpered. Oh god, he fucking whimpered. He had a desperate tone to his voice, almost like he was comforting you. "Déjame sentirlo, por favor, por favor.” (Let me feel it, please, please.) This time it was he who was begging. Your saliva had started running against Jake's hand. You were seeing stars from squeezing your eyes shut, and how close you were wasn't helping at all. The spasms had started around him, and without warning, the inevitable happened. He finished inside of you. His cum being pushed deeper inside you with each thrust he took to finish his orgasm was enough for you to reach yours. "Amor, carajo.” (Love, damn it.) His voice cracked at the sensitivity combining with your walls squeezing him every few seconds. You were milking him. "Te amo.” (I love you.) He whispered as his breath interrupted each of his words. That was the first time he said it.

July.

The only thing that relaxed you was that this 360° turn apparently had nothing to do with you.

Jake was someone else.

His flirty and playful personality was just a memory to you. Under his eyes, there were huge dark circles since his dreams had become crazier and more frequent.

There were unexplained wounds on his body, according to him. Or sometimes there were none, but he felt the pain throughout his body, as if a truck had run over him, he said.

He became silent, as if he felt he was talking too much when he started to let out words about what was happening. He still hugged and kissed you, still spent afternoons with you and continued to respond “nosotros" to your silly animal photos.

But something wasn't right. There was something so... strange.

You did what you could to work on it, to let it pass.

Even if it cost you the trust in your relationship.

August.

Your hands trembled as you dialed his number for the tenth time that night. Maybe you were being dramatic, but Jake always made sure to let you know when he had returned home.

The sudden change that had occurred in him over the past 3 months didn't help at all. You wouldn't last a lifetime without wondering why his body kept producing wounds he claimed not to remember, or about those days of complete dissociation on his part, when he swore you were playing with him when you told him it was Saturday and not Wednesday.

"I just want to know you're okay." You whispered with a broken voice to the voicemail. "Please, just tell me you're okay."

There was no response that night. You couldn't sleep either.

The next day, when he showed up at your doorstep with the dark circles you had learned to get used to over the days, your body's first reaction was to push him with all your strength. It was only enough to make him stagger.

"You're an idiot." You spat the words, your eyes flooded with tears.

"Me quedé dormido anoche, perdón.” (I fell asleep, I'm sorry.) He didn't even seem to believe the words coming out of his mouth, but how could he explain to you what was happening in his life if he didn't even know what the hell was going on?

"How much longer do you plan on lying to me?" You didn't care that people passing by on the street saw you both as crazy. You in your pajamas, him leaning against the car as a method of protection.

"No te estoy mintiendo." (I’m not lying to you.) He raised his voice a little, letting out a lot of the feelings he had been suppressing for a while.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" The worst part was that you also had things bottled up inside you, the worry for him being the thing that choked you every day, squeezing tighter and tighter.

"Creo que no quieres entenderme.” (I think you don't want to understand me.) He was angry. You had never heard him like this, especially not directed at you. "Creo que ni siquiera estás intentando.” (I think you're not even trying.)

Damn the day you started to understand his words.

"I'm not understanding you, Jake?" You had already broken into tears. Your finger collided against his chest in an accusatory manner while he seemed unaffected, even though inside he was falling apart.

It was too much for him. Everything was too much.

"I've been trying for months to ignore what you're hiding from me." It was so difficult to argue in this way that frustration was suffocating you.

"¡No te estoy ocultando una mierda!” (I'm not hiding shit from you!) You snapped.

With fear.

Mid-sentence, Jake had reached out a hand to push you. Not with much force, just enough to separate you from his chest.

In seconds, he became aware of what he had done. If the car wasn't behind him, he would have moved even further away from you. He was overwhelmed by fear too.

He was losing himself as he had suspected.

"Me tengo que ir.” (I have to go.)

"Jake Lockley, if you leave, I don't want you to come back." Tired of seeing him run away from the problems, you resorted to the last card you would have liked to play.

You were foolish to think he would risk hurting you again. The last thing you heard was the sound of the engine accelerating to get away from you as fast as possible.

September.

The first part of September is blurry. You did your best to survive without him, but the days passed so quickly that you began to question if you were alive or just living in a bad dream that had lasted longer than necessary.

It was as if Jake was dead to you, without any sign, without any notice, nothing.

He simply disappeared.

The clear countdown of the days begins on the 13th, when your phone lit up to notify you that he wasn't doing much better than you.

✉: ¿Podemos hablar? (Can we talk?)

✉: Estoy perdido. (I'm lost.)

It hurt not having him, but it hurt more to see Jake's well-being. Not knowing how he was, where he was, what he was doing after that tragic day tormented you.

You replied, and the most important relationship in your life turned into a series of midnight calls where you tried to understand what your ex-boyfriend was mumbling from the solitude of his car.

You had friendships that had started in stranger ways than this, you could endure this.

Make it work.

October.

"Trick or treat." Mentally, he slapped himself for how ridiculous his way of reappearing was.

A half-smile appeared on your lips as you opened the door and came face to face with an embarrassed Jake, wearing your favorite leather jacket and both hands in his pockets as if he was waiting to be scolded by you.

"I doubt any of these things don't have artificial coloring number 4." That was your only response as you leaned your body against the door frame. With one hand, you held the huge container of candies that came out of hiding every Halloween.

"Estaba por aquí.” (I was around here.) Jake pointed back, the path that led to the supermarket, or at least that's what you assumed. He had a very lame excuse to see you, but that worked for you. The interest was enough. "Y pensé en venir a saludar.” (And I thought of coming. To say hi.)

"I'm watching Friday The 13th." You looked behind him. Children approached with shyness, seeking candy. "Come in, let me finish with the candies."

Your smile was so genuine that Jake's heart skipped a beat. How had he lasted so long without you? Those lost 3 months would always be present in the multiple mistakes he made.

That night, you kissed until it hurt. Until your lips hurt from bites, until the skin of his neck burned from love bites, until his fingers became imprinted on your waist. "I love you." You said between moans as the movie gave you an almost unreal vision of who the love of your life was. Flashes in white, in red, even in black showing you how beautiful he was from any angle or lighting. He made your sofa creak as he raised his hip toward you, thrusting into you even deeper if that was possible. "I love you, Jake." You repeated with a broken voice while your little jumps gained more strength. Your body was already exhausted, your legs were shaking and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck from sweat but emotionally you refused to get away from him. "Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.” (I love you. I love you. I love you.) His whispers mixed with his panting. You both seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Don't go away again." Your fingers tightened on his chest, scratching at his skin as you had done many times before. "Don't ever leave me again, Jake." The way you said his name burned in his heart. He brought a hand to one of yours to squeeze them on his chest, making you feel his agitated heartbeat. There was no need to say more, not while your kisses, movements and moans spoke for themselves. That night, as you rested on his chest after an orgasm that made you both shake from head to toe, he promised you never to leave. "Mi vida.” (My life.) He repeated as his fingers untangled your hair and your weight on him increased as you drifted off to sleep. "Mi cielo. Mi corazón.” (My darling. My heart.) He whispered in your ear. "Mi todo." (My everything.)

November.

Everything with Jake was stupidly easy.

Laughing, singing, existing.

As easy as in the romantic comedies you used to love watching before you met him. And it's not that you had forgotten about those because of him, but now you enjoyed watching action movies, those that allow you to get distracted without losing track of the plot.

You didn't press him to talk about what happened in those months, knowing that there were still a thousand secrets between you because you still saw strange bruises on his body, marks on his knuckles, or felt him getting up in the early hours of the morning when he stayed over with you.

"Leave me alone!" You ran down the hallway, laughing with him trailing behind. Probably restraining himself because it would be impossible for him not to catch you with his eyes closed.

He wrapped an arm around you to press you against his chest and used the other to prevent both of you from crashing into the wall. He was laughing too.

"Do you give up?" He squeezed you tighter with his arm.

"Never! Let me go!"

The laughter almost made it difficult for you to speak.

"Come back to me, and I'll let you go."

The seconds of silence churned his stomach.

"What?"

"I mean..." He cleared his throat. "Officially. Would you be my girlfriend? Please?"

It almost seemed like he was begging you.

You reassured his fears with a kiss.

December.

"I don't understand how you can eat these things." You took a deep breath through your mouth, sticking out your tongue, already reddened by the red dye number 6, to seek some relief from the burning sensation.

Jake was setting down a fifth box from his arms. He sighed, tired.

"No puedo creer que no me estés ayudando.” (I can't believe you're not helping me.) He approached you to steal one of the Cheetos from your bag while you licked your fingers. "Te dije que uses palillos chinos, así evitas el polvo.” (I told you to use chopsticks, that way you avoid getting your fingers dusty.)

"The dust is the best part." You popped your thumb out of your mouth.

"Disgusting." He feigned a look of disgust as he settled between your legs, resting a hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze.

"You didn't say that when..."

"¡Dios mío!" (My God!) He gasped, biting his lower lip to suppress his laughter. He leaned forward, stealing a chaste kiss from you. "Compórtate.” (Behave.)

"Are there many more boxes left? I didn't think you had so much stuff in your apartment." You pushed the box aside as you leaned forward to prolong your kisses.

"This is my apartment." He whispered with a smile against your lips.

"Touché." Your fingers slowly roamed his shirt collar before pulling him closer with a tug on the fabric. "What if you take a break?"

Jake's hands were already on his pants, figuring out how to unbutton his jeans without separating from your body.

"I'm never going to stop unpacking." He complained as his lips began to descend towards your neck.

Ok now that I have written happy endings for the three of them I’m sick of them, lol, I’ll try to get angst-ier with these thingies

#jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector #Steven Grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #Moon Knight #moon knight x you #marvel #Oscar Isaac #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you

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desifleabag · 5 months

Text

Hello beautiful people out here!

I am Deepali. I am from Pune, Maharashtra. I am 21 years old (shaadi ki umar)

Desi fleabag? Because I relate the most with that specific character. Horny, messy, vulnerable, and crazy all the time but also considerate, expressive, and kind. I am a desi version of her.

🎀What I like? I like to dance, sing, journal, write poems and stories, and doom scroll all the time

📍Professional side of me

I did my bachelor's in philosophy. I have been working in an organization for quite a long time. I am a content writer. I am a writer/poet. I am an open mic performer. I have performed at esteemed platforms like tapeatale, poemsindia, kommune, and many more. I am a psychology and sociology student too. I am a co-facilitator and youth lead in different schools through my organization. I have worked on poetry anthology books.

The most important part of my life is being a poet or a writer. It's been a decade since I started writing, and professionally, it's been two years. My poetry and stories revolve around different and unique topics like mental health, family dynamics, feminism, societal norms and culture, romance, life intricacies, friendship, etc. I love being a poet and telling people stories about me and the world because I believe poetry is everywhere. I have a blog called Sip and Sofa Stories where I share the most wholesome blogs and fun-to-read stories.

Not much of a reader, but I like reading poetry by Sylvia Plath and more female writers.

💌 Movies and songs? I am a die-hard fan of Bollywood. I listen to 2000s Bollywood and retro songs. No one can challenge me the way I vibe on these songs and dance. My childhood is memorable because of Sunidhi Chauhan, Lata Mangeshkar, Kishore Kumar, RD Burman, Asha Bhosle, Sonu Nigam, Shaan, Arijit Singh, and many more artists. I also listen to Kpop, pop, indie type of music on days when I am dissociating at the fullest. Hold my clutcher, I am a Swiftie and Lana Del Rey fan too, bitch.

I love Bollywood movies, and I am yet to discover more Western movies. I have a bunch of comfort movies like Ye Jawani Hai Dewaani, Piku, Om Shaanti Om, etc.

🪕 My aesthetic type? A combination of Geet and Piku and a little bit of Poo vibe sometimes. But I love desi clothes. Kurti, jhumkas, bindi, bangles, oh god I love being a woman.

Interesting facts about me :

🌸I have three tattoos on my body (Crescent moon, "you're on your own kid" title, "grateful"). I love getting tattoos!!

🥃Loneliness who? I go to bars, cafes, and parks alone because why not. I fear no god.

💛I never was in a relationship, just some hardcore crushes who crushed my soul.

❤️‍🩹I have been in therapy for almost three years and on and off on meds. GAD (generalized anxiety disorder) gang assemble!

😶‍🌫️I love and hate spending time on LinkedIn. Girl boss era.

💬I write poetry about my crushes and defame my ex-friends. They know it very well! Lol.

I am a hopeless romantic and a professional delusional person. I will cook the best scenarios in my head and write about them. I romanticize life on another level though there are 156 rupees in my bank account by going to aesthetic cafes.

:¨ ·.· ¨:

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𝛢𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝘰'𝑠 𝑔𝘰𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝘰𝑤𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑠,𝑊ℎ𝘰'𝑠 𝑔𝘰𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑤𝑖𝑝𝑒 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝘵𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠? ⊹ ‧₊˚

🖇To connect with me

𖹭 kavitavali.deepali to read my poems and stories on instagram

𖹭 sip and sofa stories blog. I write monthly blogs

Thankyou for reading my long ass introduction! Flying kiss tumhai💋

#a much awaited intro mera!#bohot mehnat lagi bc #hellowww!#desi dark academia #desiblr #desi #desi shit posting #desi academia #light academia #dear diary #poems #poetries #short essay #spilled poetry

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twitteringthings · 7 months

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Yoneda-Sensei

Just some thoughts…

In order to craft a story as rich and as layered as saezuru, you have to be a person who really gets humans. You know? And in order to make characters this realistic and this tragic, you truly have to understand the motivations and deeply rooted traumas that drive the human spirit. Along with the truths they bury so that they may move forward. In order to create a story like this, these primal and honest human traits must imbue every action and thought process of each character. And at this, Yoneda is a genius.

Many other stories or manga that I’ve read present the reader with a characture of what a person is. Their ideals too manufactured, and understating of life too naive. I find this leads to stagnant protagonists, cliche character archetypes, pseudo-conflicts, and a predictable/flat storyline. This is especially why I love how the characters are actual adults and not some cliche teenagers. They’ve lived through much and are aware of the true nature of the world they live in.

Saezuru is unlike anything I’ve read if I’m being honest. The core of what makes this story so successful and passionately loved is that Yoneda-Sensei allows these characters - these people - to control their own narrative. It’s their love story after all. Do you know how easy it would be to say “okay, it’s been 12 years, I think it’s time to wrap this up and give the people what they want. I’m tired.” This is the very idea she rejects. I know she is probably wanting to work on a new series and that we are nearing the rising action/climax, but I am so glad she isn’t rushing it. She simply refuses to - that sex scene could have been five pages, but they needed to do what THEY NEEDED TO DO! It is so cool to see an author allow her characters to develop at their own pace. She’s spent all these years truly getting to know them herself and so, she tells their story with integrity.

It is their own motivations, flaws, and decisions that drive the story, Yoneda doesn’t impose her own will onto them. She doesn’t allow her own idea of what the plot should be control the characters actions (if that makes sense - this is getting kinda meta lol). The story purely responds to the decisions of the men who it follows, whether they are born from greed, jealousy, lust, anger, Yashiro’s explosive temper tantrums, or love. Sometimes the characters don’t even know why they do the things they do - because that is real life! And I cannot express how well it allows the story to flow. I’ve also noticed that this allows for the story to mimic real life under the context of “Nothing is truly black or white.” In traditional storytellings, there is obvious right and wrong, blatant heroes and villains. But in Saezuru these lines are sometimes blurred, what can I say…true art mimics life. And that is why you must pay attention to every nuance or you’ll miss a core theme.

The topics of childhood trauma, rape, assault, sexual abuse, being thrown into a world of ruthless men, parentless children, homosexuality amongst wolves, fearing one’s own feminity, self-hatred, lovelessness, hopelessness, shame, grief, guilt, being hurt by and hurting the ones you love, and the true nature of love as paradox are all topics needing to be dealt with using the highest sensitivity and empathy. And Yoneda-Sensei has proved that she is an author who can handle these nuanced and difficult topics with grace. And it’s so cool that she trusts us readers to empathetically understand these characters as well!

As Yashiro says, “People are full of contradictions. They’re lonely and then they’re not, they’re missed and then they’re not.” So simply put. This very understanding of the human condition is what makes Yoneda-Sensei an amazing storyteller in my book.

This story could play out for another five years and I wouldn’t mind.

Thanks for reading!

#I will write my masters thesis on Saezuru any day #saezuru tori wa habatakanai #ramblings #twittering birds never fly #yoneda kou #saezuru feels #doumeki x yashiro #saezuru analysis #yaoi bl #manga #yaoi manga #it’s almost saezuru month

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tempenensis · 1 year

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I know you don't usually weigh in on non-canon content, but I've seen a lot of people say 236 was a bad ending, or like gege joked, that things are moving too fast or he's missed a chapter (or 20, I'm personally annoyed that we jumped from Nov to Dec 24, I know gege wants the manga to end for some reason, but those three weeks of training/preparation would have been a great time to let us get re-invested in the student characters since the culling game arc felt like it was missing so much)

Do you have any feeling for what could have been a better way to end things, if indeed things are ended, for Gojou Satoru? Or do you agree that things have been moving too fast?

Sorry for this and please feel free not to answer if this is not the kind of question you want to entertain, I am just curious if you have an opinion you're willing to share since I feel you have a very good grasp of the jjk's plot and themes! I trained as a literature major, so my interest is always in whether character consistency is maintained and what a story is saying and whether that message is carried successfully or not and what that might mean for us as readers. I'm personally still on the fence about this particular twist because I'm trying to withhold judgement of the piece until we actually see it as a whole, but I am starting to feel that the narrative started to unravel a bit after Shibuya, like somehow we didn't see a lot of the characters to their full potential (like Nobara T.T my baby Nobara). Maybe this is just part of gege's notorious fast pace.

Some of this I believe is due to JJK's titular meaning of the issue of curses and what they represent being an "endless battle" but there's only so many times one can show hopelessness and loss I think before it becomes almost redundant. We actually haven't seen that many on-screen sorcerer deaths, but somehow it's been two of the most popular adult characters so far, and only direct mentors, which is a frequent trope of the hero's journey in western literature. I think that even though I really wish it hadn't happened, Nanami's ending made a lot of sense. Power-wise, Gojo's current death also makes sense, and he's not the kind of character who instantly changes his mind or learns something in his heart from a single experience, but I think it feels somewhat frustrating from my point of view because despite the bodhisattva imagery, he had more to learn as a living person, rather than continuing to believe he was like a flower and maybe no one had the right to ask him to understand. I don't know, it's just a bit frustrating for me because I think it feels character consistent (which I think gege tends to be pretty good at) but somehow incomplete too.

Again my apologies for the long ask, you're always the one I wish I could sit down and have a conversation about these things with!

-raindrop anon

Hi, raindrop anon,. Good to see you again.

First of all, I don't really think Gojou's death is particularly bad, but yeah, as you said, there might be something leaves to be desired in the plot - if jjk is a traditional shonen manga, that is. But jjk is different, which is also the reason for its popularity. I feel that jjk storytelling has always been fast-paced, and one thing that Akutami-sensei does really well is to stick to the main points that he wants to tell with his manga. The last time we have a non-serious non-battle chapter was probably chapter 64 lol - but at the same time, this also shows how jjk departs from the traditional shonen jump manga custom where the mangaka tends to drag the story to make the manga runs longer. Gege on the other hand, seems adamant to want to end the story sooner than later (if his last estimation is to be believed, only a few months left for jjk).

I don't actually have a strong feeling of how gege should end thing with Gojou, but it's been a habit of him to get to the.. shocking side of things; we see this with Gojou getting sealed back in Shibuya. Nanami's death. Then we see the Culling game, and Tengen getting killed. And lastly for Gojou to die. The longstanding status quo is going to be changed eventually. And the next one with status quo is already targeted; Sukuna himself.

As I follow this manga, "things moving too fast" has always been the opinion I saw a lot discussed here in my askbox for many, many developments in the manga. And this is more of a personal preference, but I actually like the fast-get-to-the-point-storytelling that Gege uses with jjk, exactly because how it breaks away from traditional jump manga. I feel that this fast pace is just how gege do his storytelling since the beginning lol

tldr is all I can say is jjk has always been different and fast-paced, gege is unpredictable, and I'm in the opinion that Gojou's death does make sense, unfortunately :')

#le-ask #jjk #jjk manga spoilers #jjk236 #gojou satoru

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steddieunderdogfics · 1 month

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @fandomlover1992! FandomLover1992 has 7 works in the Stranger Things fandom, and all of them are in the steddie tag.

@kaypie91 or anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @fandomlover1992:

Hello My Old Heart

Nothing Sweeter Than My Baby

A Rage That Never Wavers

Chained Up Fire

Finding Krampus

"I love her story lines so much! It never fails, once I get an email that one of her fics have updated I drop everything and RUN to ao3. Her fics really make you feel the feels." -- @kaypie91

Below the cut, @fandomlover1992 answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Honestly, when I first started getting obsessed with Steddie, I wanted to read a very specific AU. I loved the plotline of season 4 but I was literally distraught by Eddie dying LOL! And I was like he doesn't have to be dead in an AU. He can live happily in an AU with Steve 😍😍😍

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love enemies to lovers. It is just such an amazing journey to see two characters go from one extreme to the other. To go from completely loathing someone to 'I'll kill for you.' The journey can be comedic but also humbling as the characters have to be able to say 'maybe I was wrong about you.'

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I love, love, love soul-mate AUs. Particularly ones where they know it the moment they see each other. It just makes me feel so warm and fuzzy when someone goes, "Yes, this is the one. I don't need to look any further this idiot is mine and I'll love him and wrap him up in a blanket and feed him."

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Oh Goddess there are so many. Honestly the fic that I am constantly astounded by and just re-read all the time is Hic Sunt Dracones by Just-My-Latest-Hyperfixation. I am just so floored by the level of passion and imagery and masterful storytelling.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I love reading a slow burn Enemies to Lovers but I feel I'm too impatient to write it. I'll be like chapter 1 going good, they hate each other and….boom chapter 2 they're in love and married. So, I really want to challenge myself to be patient and let the plot flow nice and slow.

What is your writing process like?

So, it's extremely chaotic but I love it. A lot of times I won’t necessarily have a story or plotline at first, but I will just have a scene in my mind. So I will write that scene and then reverse engineer the story to that scene and that's how I create the plot. For example in Nothing Sweeter Then My Baby, it was the scene where Eddie finds Steve at the bakery and he knows that Steve is his soulmate, but Steve is denying it and is so scared to be discovered. So, I had to be like ok why is Steve hiding? Why is he running? Why is Eddie so desperately looking?

Do you have any writing quirks?

Yes, when I start a story it is so chaotic. Cause I never ever start at the beginning. I will write like two scenes that are not in any shape related, then a single line will pop in my head and I'll write that but I won't finish it and I'll just start writing another one and next thing I know I have 5k of gibberish.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

When I finish…or when I'm like ok I need to post people are starting I'm dead lol!

Which fic are you most proud of?

Honestly, not to sound pretentious but all of them. There was a time when I looked at a blank page and felt nothing but hopelessness that I could ever fill it, much less be able to write 10,000 words in one sitting. As weird as it sounds writing Steddie has given me the hope, the skills, and the drive to become a published writer someday

How did you get the idea for Hello My Old Heart?

So, I was reading Bad Beat by LexiRoseWrites and I just kept getting this idea about Eddie being so mad at Steve at the end, he just picked up and left town. And poor Steve is pregnant and alone. Lexi gave me her blessing to write it and I tagged her work as inspiration at the bottom.

When writing Hello My Old Heart, what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn't expect the plot to take me where it did. I had planned it just to be a heartfelt, angsty story but through workshopping some ideas I came up with the Brenner/pills plotline.

What inspired Nothing Sweeter Than My Baby?

I always loved the idea of soul-mate identifying marks and how that would affect real life. So, I thought it would be really cool to combine the idea with royalty core and draw out the dangers one might experience being the soul-mate of a very important and powerful person.

What was your favorite part to write from Finding Krampus?

The parts where Eddie makes Steve blush. I love that little cat and mouse games where they are both attracted to each other but are scared to make a real move so they just flirt and blush and giggle. I find it so sweet and exhilarating.

How do/did you feel writing A Rage That Never Wavers?

When I started, I was going through a very difficult time. When I'm overwhelmed or just so fucking done with everything and the people around me, I just want to be alone and self isolate. I felt like no matter what I said, or did or even wanted, everyone was attacking me. So, I came up with a scene of Steve alone in a cabin in the woods and he was just scared of everyone including Eddie. And so I reversed engineered, what if there was a magical reason this was happening and therefore a magical cure. Don't we all want that when we have anxiety and the world is pressing your chest and getting air feels like a battle. I am doing much, much better now and I am very determined to finish the story before Halloween.

What was the most difficult part of writing Chained Up Fire?

Honestly, it was probably one of the easiest stories to write. It just flowed out of me. Full disclosure I'm having trouble picking it up because I feel like it's original enough to publish, so who knows?

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

For Nothing Sweeter Then My Baby: "Eddie’s heart was slow, proud, heavy and belonging to Steve. And by everything that was holy and unholy in this world, he would deliver it to Steve at his feet."

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Yes, when I get all my WIPs done, I am going to start on a vampire/ABO/royaltycore fic that I'm too excited about.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

No, just that it seems silly but writing Steddie has legit changed my life and gave me hope again that I could be a professional writer. And I love the supportive community so much and I really, really hope that it stays strong even past the series finally.

Thank you to our author, @fandomlover1992, and our nominator, @kaypie91! See more of FandomLover1992's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writers spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things

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immortalwandererxoxo · 8 months

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It's me, can't you see?

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Dark urge

Summary/Setting: “You thought they knew and saw you for who you were. The nights around the campfire, the jokes and stories you shared, the rounds of constant checking in on them, it was all for nothing. The hate in their eyes was apparent and set for who could honestly trust a bhaalspawn, and perhaps this was for the best. You thought I’d be free of these urges, these feelings, this life. I’m done; I’ve had enough of all this; how nice your last sight on this plane would be, those jewel-red piercing eyes."

Rating/Warnings: Basically for everyone just get ready to cry your little heart out lol

Word Count: 1,903

A/N: Sooo this is the first fic I've written in a while, so please be gentle with me. Honestly, I just kept thinking about this kind of scenario constantly running through my head. I'll be posting this here and on AO3 if you prefer to read it there as well! Currently, I am writing the second chapter on this. At first, I was going to only do one shot but the ideas just kept growing lol

-----

It was your birthright; that is what the funny-looking butler has said to you. A gift was to be bestowed upon you, but only if you killed the selunite cleric Isobel… the last hope for last light inn.

Your first encounter with her was tense; even being near her brought on a violent pounding within your skull as if it were to spilt any second; you tried to push past it to focus on the vital information that Isobel was explaining in regards to Moontower, it fell on deaf ears, the roaring in your ears started to get louder, your vision began to darken at the edges, no you thought not now! Your finger began to twitch as if in anticipation of unleashing the same horror that claimed the poor bard Alfira.

You needed to remove yourself now. You quickly mumbled about needing a moment to yourself before sprinting out Isobel room and down the stairs and making your way to the furthest edge of the light barrier to try and gather yourself.

“Breathe, just breathe, please just stop; you silently pleased with just you and your horrid twisted mind. You squeezed your eyes tight, though it seemed to not really matter. In fact, it just made the images appear faster in your mind. Oh, the beautiful ways you could rearrange the limbs of Isobel body, bones snapping, eyes all but gone and left with gaping holes of nothing and filled with nothing, darkness, and hopelessness. The delicious fear of condemning these pathetic souls that cling to life only for it to be snuffed out in an instant just if blowing out a candle. It would be so easy.

The sound of footfalls told you that the others had finished up with the Cleric and had most likely come to see why their leader had run out on them.

“Wretched thing, pull yourself together,” You whispered quickly, trying to dissipate the vile thoughts still wracking your mind and readying yourself to answer the many questions probably going to be hurled upon you.

“Oh darling, was that cleric prattling on too much for you to bear? Even Shadowheart had to restrain herself before tearing into her about her love and how much better her dark lady was ha! Astarion says with a

“Ah, my love, are you alright? Darling your hands!

This is what breaks you out of your dazed self. You open your hands to reveal puncture wounds you had inflicted upon yourself. You didn’t even notice your hands had formed into closed fists, forcing yourself to restrain yourself to the point small droplets of your blood had begun to pool a bit in your palm.

“Yes… I.. I’m alright. I just needed fresh air; this shadow curse must do a number on me. You could feel Astarion eyes boring into you. He must have known you were lying, but he didn’t press further, and you were thankful for that. You were not in the right head space to tell him what you had just expressed, nor did you really feel the others would care when you had more pressing issues to address. You must focus on the task at hand and find the nightsong. Your pain could be dealt with later.

“Let’s head back to camp with the others. Gale said he is trying out a new recipe, and it don’t worry; he even managed to find the good kind of wine just for Astarion.

————————————————————————————————————--------------------------------------------------------------

As Gale started passing out the new stew, he managed to salvage together from the stocked-up ingredients you collected throughout your journey; Shadowheart began to explain the current mission and what you had missed. But your heart and mind weren’t all there, considering what happened previously. When would you be rid of these violent urges, these sick thoughts that clouded your mind?

With dinner complete, you did your normal rounds around the camp, checking in on everyone; you were a bit apprehensive in speaking with Astarion, concerned that he would ask you what had happened since you never really did address why you ran out, but no he didn’t even bring it up, you would have thought you would be relived, but a sharp chord struck you within your heart; did he really not care you had thought your relationship with he was making progress or perhaps that was you fooling yourself into thinking someone could love such a creature as yourself.

Making your way to your bedroll and staring up at the pitch-black sky you knew you would not be getting any sleep; the thoughts in your head of today’s events were ever buzzing about.

You were so engrossed in your thoughts you didn’t hear the pattering of talons upon the dirt coming closer to you.

“You called for me, Milady?”

You sat up hastily. Gods, what did he want you to do now, or what exactly were his intentions of coming to you in the middle of your camp?

“What is it now? If this is about killing the cleric, you can forget it. I already gave you my answer; I refuse to be part of such a massacre, you said with a hushed whisper.”

“Your father was most displeased with this kind of outcome, Milady, dear Master; I want only the best for you; you always did need a little push of encouragement with those urges you get; allow me to give you a hand in this, please,” he pleased.

“I don’t need any push or anything from this so-called father I have never met before!”

You wanted him to leave before anyone could overhear you two, and you would have to explain another thing to the group.

“Now, don’t be this way; your father does love you, miss, how he doted on you so tenderly when you were but a babe, and because of this, he is allowing yet another chance for you to redeem such an egregious display you have made of yourself.

Your hands begin to feel clammy and freezing; the building anxiety takes hold of your body and starts to stir. What is that will do? More importantly, is this something that harms others?

You catch the glint of silver with little red specks encircling something within his clawed hand. It looks to be a coin?

“Here is the deal, master: if this coin falls upon heads, your favorite person will be brutalized! This normally would have been your punishment and a token to your father and would allow this minor transgression with the cleric to be overlooked. If it lands upon tails… no, you know what, master? I shall let you find out personally what awaits you; this will be my little push to steer you in the correct direction for you to grab your inheritance.

A flash of anger flared up within you. “No, what is the second choice tell me now!” Panic filled you as if the first choice was not bad enough; something worse awaited you, leaving you in the dark.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Milady. Be patient here; I’ll toss this coin, and we shall see what fate has in store for you.”

With the flick of his finger, the coin spun in the air. The fear and anxiety that you felt waiting on this damn coin to fall, you tried to make a plan of some sort on how to deal with the said potential of having to kill either Astarion, your lover, or dear friend Shadowheart.

“Oh, master! You are Truly cursed with the most delicious tragedy.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart sped up. Gods, what side did the coin land on? Were you fated to kill your sweet love?

“Now, Milady, stay still. I don’t want to miss.” Scelerita’s hands began to glow red, even his eyes;

Beneath your feet, a red glow, a red circle outlined with what seemed to be blood drops arranged in a perfect circular motion on the outermost circle were some ancient ruins, ones that looked familiar, but you had no time to possibly read them before you felt the excruciating pain of your bones breaking in multiple places, your joints snapping, stretching, your skin being pulled into various directions to cover long new limbs you seemed to be growing, Gods it HURT,

Two additional arms shoot out from your sides. Each hand is morphed into sharp, long, talon-like claws. You feel the sharp spikes and horns poke and prick your entire body, from your head, arms, and legs to the tip of your now-said tail. Great long horns jut out from your now spikey head, and you feel something dripping. It seems to be slick blood from your former form. It’s a miracle you think to yourself that you are not dead from blood loss or, at the very least, shock from the horror show that you are becoming.

But honestly, the worst part of this horrid transformation is the one relating directly to your mouth: two large tusk-like horns protrude out from your would-be former jaw that now splits into somehow four splits of skin that are all surrounded and arranged by pointed and thorny teeth that could shred something or someone within seconds.

“Oh, my Master, you truly are a sight to behold; how I missed this form of yours so dearly! Such a strapping young behemoth.”

You attempt to scream for help from your companions; however, it quickly becomes apparent that you cannot speak within this grotesque form. What were you to do now that you were transformed into a monster?

“Master, this will surely be something you can finally make your father proud of! I can see in your eyes that you are waiting for an explanation of what you are meant to do with this new, beautiful form; allow me to get this started. "

Your now small demon butler has waved his hand and conjured up an illusion of self-disguise into a near-perfect replicate of Gale?! He then opens his mouth, and much to your horror, what he screams out next in a voice. That sounds exactly like him.

“What is that monstrosity?! Everyone! Wake up! There is an abominable monster readying to attack the camp, and they have our leader!” screams the illusion-like Gale.

Your heart begins to plummet into the pit of your stomach, and you quickly understand what this sick lesson is meant to teach you. Your father expects nothing to stand in his way. It does not matter if they are the ones that can help you reach the Baldur’s gate. If they are holding you back from your “gift,” then they must be dealt with, and what a perfectly twisted way for them to be under the guise that this monster has taken their precious leader and must kill it.

You can only watch in horror as you look out to see the flames in camp start lighting up and the yelling and harsh footfalls quickly approaching your location. In the distance, you hear Karlach’s battle cry and the others gathering their weapons.

You swiftly turn your head to see your butler’s face, only for him to give you a sick and cruel smile on your friend’s face. “Have fun, milady, your father, and I wish to see some excellent results from the child of Bhaal.”

And then he is gone, leaving only behind thick smoke and the damn coin laying tails side up.

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merakiui · 28 days

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!!!! Those are so cool :DDDD!!!! Very very pretty!! The first one honestly reminds me a bit of Rollo but I think maybe it's just the palette it's got going on lol 😭 either way really neat :3 and glad to hear you're well!!!!

The second one though,, auughh I hope to get an outfit like that one of these days. I love the sleeves and the suspender pants!!! They're so fun!!!

It WAS a shock tho!! Usually my twt and tumblr circles do not cross much. But you're also really the only twst tumblr account I keep up with. Notifs on and everything 🫡 you're also so okay talking abr fashion!!! It's such a fun subject!! So many styles and pieces out there to look into

I have been very well though thank you :D! Trying very hard to get that eel Jade card but I fear he is not coming home this time. Maybe I'll have more luck on his rerun 💔💔

- :3 !!

Oh!! Sorry I meant to add this but forgot !! But I looked through my last asks and one of the last ones I sent was about Obey Me

They added it so you can read the entire og main story in nightbringer. In case you were still interested in reading it

- :3 again

- - -

Is it crazy that that was my immediate thought when I saw that dress and so it gave me even more reason to buy it.......... (ó﹏ò｡) I saw it and went: :O !!!! omg NBC dress!!!! It is so Rollo flavored to me..... definitely due to the colors hehe!! I'm happy you had similar thoughts. :D I would do anything for Rollo. I love him so dearly. If he is cheese, then I am rat. If he is light, then I am moth. If he is Crimson Lotus, then I am the hopeless mage throwing myself at him. <3 who needs magic when you have Rollo Flamme?

AND THE SECOND OUTFIT YES!!! AAAAAA it's just so amazing!!! I hope you can get an outfit just like that!!!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ may you feel fashionable every day!!!

I know the feeling! There was a time when some classmates were avidly discussing omegaverse while we were at lunch, and I could only sit there in shock as two worlds collided in the most unexpected, miraculous way. But omg you're too kind, :3 anon!!! Having notifications on for me...... I am immensely honored. 🥺 that's so sweet,,, and thank you for listening to my brief fashion rambles! I also think it's a very fun subject, so I adore chatting about it when given the chance!

As usual, the eel is so slippery and can be difficult to catch. >_< I'm sending you heaps of luck so that he can come home to you (whether during his current banner or during rerun)!! You will bring that slimy eel home!!! And I'm very happy to know you're doing well!! Please have the best day always!!!!!! ✨✨✨✨✨✨

#chit chat #:3 anon #I FORGOT TO REPLY TO YOUR OTHER MESSAGE OMG #AAAA FORGIVE ME OTL #BUT OMG OBEY ME UPDATE??? 👀 i may just have to look into it to read the full story

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medi-melancholy · 3 months

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i only know very vague things about the ER dlc from skimming tvtropes and glancing at twitter and looking up some music and cutscenes, but here's my takeaways so far, mostly about Best Worst Boy

miquella in the running for one of the best soulsborne characters ever oh my GOD i love his whole everything. what a fun fascinating fucked up lil guy. what a good year for beautiful awful well-intentioned extremists and their plans for utopia. it's impossible to say whether he's a Good person or Bad person but you can't deny he does both good and bad. at the very least his intentions and goals come from a good place but his methods and values are uhhhhhhhhh something else. i love it!

i'm seeing people very upset that the version of miq they had in their heads is ruined forever so they're gonna ignore canon and like. sorry i guess! but the foundations for what he's really like were always there, and the new revelations about his actions are interesting and also in line

miq and malenia's relationship isn't any less valuable and malenia isn't any less badass ok? ok. calm down lol

enjoyers of pure and helpless miq who makes for a pretty victim or damsel in distress can still keep that image, because, hey, playing that role was also within his plans, it seems! He Has The Range!

also it's not a bad thing that we see a physically older/more mature version of miq! that's a win-win tbfh! and has some fascinating implications to me, from an outside perspective without all the info--did he find a way to break his curse, even if only temporarily?? is it tied to him nearly entirely reaching godhood?? i think it's neat and he looks gorgeous! it's not like everybody's gotta throw all their fanart away now, again, calm down

mohg isn't instantly some innocent victim in all this nowwwwww aaaaaaaaaaa he was still a really fucked up dude, and idk if we even know exactly how deep miq's charms over him went, maybe miq took advantage of some feelings or urges that were already there, maybe mohg's preexisting traits and personality made him do even more things than what miq himself was expecting, idk! there's room for interpretation and regardless he's still a fascinating monster of a guy, and i love having ansbach for perspective

this fucking family tree keeps getting BIGGER because so many fuckers got wiped from history because no one fucking gets along. it's so funny to me

i sure as shit wasn't expecting radahn to come back or be relevant in any way but yknow i do kinda dig it! he's a great and iconic character. yet i am seeing lots of complaints about that too lmao,, ER at its core was always based around and focused on That Big Goddamn Family so having things circle back around to figures already involved in things makes sense imo

but also GODWYN IS DEAD GODWYN IS VERY VERY DEAD GODWYN IS BEYOND DEAD i was hoping for some more info about him at the very least and maybe there's some i haven't heard about myself yet but holy shit ok he wasn't gonna have a physical appearance or be a boss or anything, but i'm seeing a ton of people disappointed that isn't exactly what happened

so what if things are messy and complicated and fucked up and squicky all over, welcome to soulsborne, like, idk what to tell you, i'm still so baffled by people who are shocked and appalled by dark or unusual content in elden ring and don't wanna talk about it or acknowledge it. where did yall come from???? did you play des or ds or bloodborne or even sekiro?? ? ?? ?????

i also saw some people complaining about the tragic/hopeless/depressing/upsetting quest or story parts and i'm so ???????????? seriously does no one realize what they're playing, why does this feel like an ER exclusive problem for from games?

music is great as ever i don't care what anyone says

messmer is cool as hell and super interesting and i can't wait to read up on him even more. i loooove his voice and just, how he looks and moves. he has a ton of personality and presence about him

leda what is wrong with you. i love you so much girl

happy pride month! 🥳

also i saw this phrase uttered along the way and i'm kind of obsessed with it lmao

#elden ring #shadow of the erdtree spoilers #er spoilers #elden ring spoilers #seeing people's reactions as a huge fan but non-player has been interesting i'll say

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healer-pop · 5 months

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Aphrodisiac anon here. My absolute favorite sex pollen trope is they both are falling HARD for each other but too scared to mess up what they've already got- so the pollen is what makes them both confess because good lord one of them is practically DYING for some dick.

I totally agree Sloane would be terrible at making the first move, totally sure there's something there but all too terrified to make it happen. They'd think up 45 excuses instantaneously for anything suspicious, and even if reader confesses while under the pollen they're STILL not convinced. I would no doubt have them talk in length about what this means for them.. their relationship and what they expect. I had this line reader says, "If you do this...things won't be the same, because I love you. I wouldn't be able to back to just friends. But if you say no now, we can pretend this never happened." Just ot be like 100% clear because even READER is worried that Sloane is only saying 'let me help you' because they're worried and not because they actually want them!! Ahhhghhhh I know it's like a total boner killer to some but I think in a situation like this they'd both be super clear about what will happen.

Also so fr...reader would wanna suck off their cunt and suck their strap (or dick because good lord gimmie that!!!). Literally my mouth is watering thinking about blowing them 💀💀💀

GOD I LOVE THAT, no anon you are so valid with this idea, PWP is nice, I tend to read a lot of it, but I crave so much plot when I write my own stories or even read really good ones bc DAMN I want MORE!!!!! and I end up just imagining the rest of the plot in my own brain lol

this also sets it up nicely for so much richness, where you can lean into the desire, the hopelessness, the glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, and finally, the relief. the assurance and comfort that Venture always tends to bring with their "hookups" that never end up as hookups (my brain digressing into a fwb fic with the same problem only they both keep going back for more and slowly transform into a relationship without realizing it!!!! knock it off!!!!)

I want this fic, nonnie. I want it with 10k words before they even get TOUCHED by the pollen. I want to feel the burn of the yearn, if you catch my drift. as I, currently, like so many of us, am so desperate for Venture, I want to live vicariously through this fic where I get my happy ending ;p

I want my reader fic where they fuck so hard, so nasty, not just because of a stupid sex flower, but because they are finally fulfilling their desire for one another, taking this roll around in the sheets to new sex pollen fic levels with how absolutely needy and desperate it is.

#i have so many ideas for this anon u don't realize WHAt u have done to me #𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ messages from the red string of fate #🌸 my Aphrodite anon

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anna-dreamer · 6 months

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(I apologize in advance that this one is rather angry. I am in a dark mood, and it's not hard to see why.) So, about predetermined morality and second chances. It got me thinking about Lay of Leithian the rock opera, in the way it exists in Skazki iteration. I took me a while to warm up to it for many different reasons, and one of those reasons was its opening number. I remember, before i saw the whole show, watching a YouTube video with just that song. I didn't like it because it was Námo's number. I still hold the same feelings over this creative decision, although i do really love Polina's direction and many thigs in LoL are now dear to me.

I really don't think Námo is the right character to present this story to the audience, for this story is not his. The Lord of Doom, the cold and reclusive Vala, the one who says things like Not the first, he doesn't get to say something like Слушайте, люди, песню о Лэйтиан. He is not the one who reaches out and shares, he is not the one who narrates and empathizes, he is not the one who releases from bondage - he is the judge, he is the restrictor, and he is the jailer, he is an antagonist to anyone who challenges the Fate. (Well, to most people.) And here lies my issue. This opening number is supposed to explain to the audience why the narrative they are about to witness is a meaningful, worthwhile story. First of all, the characters of it suffered like no others (more than you people, honestly i am not fond of this implication) because they blazed the trail to a new kind of fate. Second of all, they walked a tough path, they did not know what to expect, a lot of times they struggled against a powerful current of fate (though it rather sounds like it picked them up and carried them). That is why we remember them to this day. And you too should remember these great characters; but you also should remember that their deeds made the Black Crown roll onto the ground; you should remember those sacramental lines we love to repeat, мрак не вечен and Враг не всесилен. And now pray tell me, Námo, what does any of this have to do with you?! Wasn't it you along with other Valar who let the Enemy out? Wasn't it you who was supposed to protect Arda from him - and failed to do so? Wasn't it you who abandoned in to fight the Enemy in a hopeless battle which was your responsibility in the first place? You don't get to join in with those who actually suffered, you don't get to claim you share their plight. You are the reason they suffered. One could argue that Námo was convinced by Lúthien, that she showed him the error of his ways, he learned a lesson, hence him opening LoL with those words. Except this is not what happened. Lúthien was singled out by Námo in the first place supposedly because "somehow" she did not find peace in Mandos. Námo, of course, says that there has never been such a case before - yet i will never buy that. In those very Halls Míriel Þerindë abides, and her son Fëanor, and her husband Finwë - those three already hold so much unresolved grief i find it really hard to believe they are just chilling, all good, no problem whatsoever. Not to mention all those elves who never wanted to go to Aman in the first place and must be really struggling in that valarin brainwashing machine! Mandos is not a happy place, and yet only Lúthien somehow gets Námo to listen. Why? I honestly feel like he listened because Narrative Bias, because it is just this kind of story, because Love Conquers All and all that jazz. That is bad enough because SO MANY OTHERS deserve a chance, not mercy even but actual justice, yet only Beren and Lúthien get it because of this prebuilt morality. They are worthy because they are worthy. We are not supposed to question it. Nevermind that everyone else gets to be effectively cast as unworthy ones. But there is another layer, and it is not exactly text-based, but my current reality is such that this reading becomes inescapable. By taking it upon himself to explain LoL to us Námo appropriates its narrative in order to absolve himself of any responsibility. He praises Beren and Lúthien and gives lip service to all the things that people he oppresses actually want - safety, freedom to choose their own fate, a brighter future, the Enemy defeated. Yet the truth is he is the reason and the enabler of such a reality where hardly any of it happens. I hate this. The opening number to Lay of Leithian belongs not to a Vala - but to a human narrator. If we must take inspiration in a biased story about Tolkien's favorite lovebirds, then let us at least do it on our own terms.

#silmarillion #lay of leithian rock opera #lay of leithian #beren #luthien #namo #obligatory fuck the valar tag #angry rant #anti valar #please dont take it the wrong way for i do like LoL #Both Skadis monomusical and Polinas stage version #But it doesnt mean this work has no issues #And they should be discussed #anna dissects rock operas

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auroralix · 9 months

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✩ fairly odd christmas - part 1 ✩

read parts two and three here!

pairing: chanlix. everything on this account is chanlix.

summary: single and lonely on christmas, felix makes an offhand wish to have someone to love. the man who appears in his kitchen the next morning to make that wish come true is the last thing he expects.

song: fictional ~ khloe rose

this section’s word count: 4.2k

warnings: uhhhhhhh i don’t think there are many ?? some vEry light swearing, felix is already lowkey thirsting for chan’s ass bc aren’t we all, this is so sappy lovey dovey i love them, mentions of getting murdered bc felix thinks chan is an intruder at first, felix also tries to use a pen as a weapon, why am i treating this like ao3 tags

small a/n: welcome to my first fruity series! i’m still in the process of writing and polishing this but i had to post it before it became too long after christmas lol. everything should be posted by new year’s (: also forever big thanks to @awooghan for the fic title ilysm and thank you to both her and @ujimoo for beta reading and giving input ilyb 🫶

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Felix trudged into his apartment, closing the door behind himself and slumping against it. He got dumped again, and right before Christmas. It shouldn’t have surprised him but every time he hopes this time it might be the One. The one and only he couldn’t live without.

He made his way to the kitchen and opened the freezer, pulling out a tub of ice cream and a spoon. It wasn’t the most glamorous way to spend his night but he was past caring at this point.

After securing his ice cream, Felix crashed on the couch in his living room and turned on the tv. It was time to nurse his emotional wounds with any one of his favorite movies. He had a secret soft spot on his heart for sappier, more cliche movies; those normally seen as “girly.” He couldn’t help it, maybe it was the consequence of living with his sisters until he moved out after college.

Felix had always loved the idea of finding that one person who he loved more than anything else and that would love him back just as much. The books he read and movies he watched did nothing to help those notions; he was the notorious hopeless romantic in his friend group and had been since he was young.

It wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help that the men in his books and movies were miles better than anyone he’d met in real life. He’d dated multiple people, men and women, and yet nobody ever compared to the people in his stories that lived day and night in his brain. It wasn’t that most of them were bad people (although he’d had his fair share of bad dates), it was just that none of them could give Felix half the amount of love he gave them.

When Felix loved someone, he jumped all in with both feet, not caring what may come. He knew he was being naïve about it, but he couldn’t help that either; it was just in his personality to love wholly and completely and to give as much of himself as he could to the other person. It led to him getting his heart stomped on more than once, like it had tonight.

He’d heard yet again that he was sweet and nice and everything else, but he just wasn’t what his date was looking for. Felix had nodded and smiled and taken it well, dragging himself out of the restaurant to walk home.

Of course it was just his luck that it started raining on his way. And of course it was his luck that he didn’t have anyone to be cliche in the rain with at that moment, under the bright city lights that were decked out in full Christmas decor. It was like the world loved to taunt him by dangling something he wanted desperately right in front of his face. So he had shuffled home through the cold, sludgy rain as quickly as he could, which was how he ended up where he was now.

Curled under a blanket and nursing a tub of melting ice cream while he dreamed about a love he’d probably never see. He just wanted someone that would love him as much as he loved them, was that too much to ask for?

Felix set the nearly empty ice cream tub on the coffee table in front of him and tucked his feet under himself, moving to lie on his side as he watched his movie. Before long, without him even realizing it, Felix was drifting off to sleep on the couch, sending a half asleep wish to the powers that be for a Christmas miracle– someone he could love unconditionally.

•••

Felix blinked his eyes open blearily, adjusting to the blinding sunlight streaming in through his curtains. He rolled onto his side, belatedly realizing he was in his bed, not on the couch as he had been when he fell asleep the night before.

He frowned a little to himself. He was sure he’d fallen asleep on the couch, but maybe he’d woken up long enough to drag himself into his room for the rest of the night.

He stretched his arms above his head and yawned before slowly hauling himself out of bed and trudging to clean up in the bathroom, not giving it a second thought.

When he was finished with his morning routine, Felix waddled out of his room and to the kitchen. He stilled just a second when he walked through the small living room, his mostly empty bucket of ice cream was gone. That made him pause, he knew he didn’t pick it up the night before. Maybe one of his friends randomly came over and threw it out, he rationalized to himself as he turned toward the kitchen.

His kitchen, that was currently occupied by another man that Felix didn’t know. Felix stopped right in his tracks at the sight of the intruder, heart rate immediately going through the roof.

“Who are you?!” he screeched at the man who looked up in surprise from whatever he was doing at the counter. Felix immediately started looking for something, anything to defend himself with.

The other man slowly put his hands up to show he meant no ill will. “I-I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.”

The kitchen knife in one of his hands gave Felix no confidence that what he said was true.

In another situation, Felix would be swooning at the sight and sound of the other man, but right now, he just wanted answers. He grabbed a nearby pen, his only weapon of defense against the mystery intruder and his kitchen knife.

“Who are you?! Why are you here?!” Felix asked again, his panic growing as he held the pen up, like it’d do anything against the impressive muscles on the other man.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” the other man started, lowering one hand to put the knife down as he spoke. “I- I was sent here, for… for you.”

Felix choked on a scoff as he shook his head. “You actually expect me to believe that? What the fuck do you want from me? Why are you here?!”

The other man blinked a couple times and looked like he was trying to think over the best way to answer Felix’s questions. “I-… I don’t know how to explain it. Um, y-you made a wish last night and brought me here. I’d never hurt you though, I promise.”

That stopped Felix dead in his defensive rampage. Yes, he had made a wish to the nonexistent Christmas fairies as he was falling asleep, but he didn’t expect anything to come from it. Much less it being answered with a random hot man deposited in his kitchen. He didn’t even know how it could’ve been answered.

Despite what the man in his kitchen said, Felix couldn’t and wouldn’t just trust whatever the he said. Not without substantial evidence of his claims or some very good persuading.

“How do I know I can trust you or- or that you won’t hurt me? You showed up in the middle of the night out of literally nowhere and- and started acting like you own the place! You’re- you’re just here! In my kitchen and eating my food!” Felix spit out, keeping his pen held high as he questioned the other man. “You haven’t even told me your name!”

“It’s, um, it’s Chan,” the man gulped nervously. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but please, just hear me out. The reason I’m here is I’m a spirit of Christmas, here to answer your wish.”

Felix could do nothing but gawk at the man in disbelief. Surely he’d misheard? He must still be dreaming, there was no other explanation. It was just a dream that Felix’s lovesick brain had conjured up to make him feel worse when he woke up and saw it indeed wasn’t real.

“Y-You- you’re a what?” he sputtered, at a loss for all other words.

Chan just nodded his head slowly. “It’s true, I’m a spirit of Christmas. We go around this time of year spreading love and joy and sometimes we answer Christmas wishes. I- I heard your wish last night as you were falling asleep and I had to answer; I’d never heard such a sincere wish as yours.”

Felix took a shuddering breath. This man—Chan— had to be crazy. But, somehow he’d known about the wish half asleep Felix had sent into the ether the previous night. How had he known?

“If- if you’re a real Christmas spirit or whatever, then you must have some sort of powers, right?” he asked, deciding to put the whole thing to the test before he chose whether to listen to more of Chan’s story or call the police.

“I do, they’re not very powerful powers, but they get the job done, you know? I can show you if you’d like,” Chan said, giving Felix a hopeful little smile that brought out a pair of cute little dimples that definitely did nothing to Felix’s already racing pulse.

“Yes please. But nothing weird, okay?” Felix still did not loosen his grip on his pen. It may not do much if the other man tried to attack him, but he would go down swinging, if nothing else.

“I promise.” Chan gave him a quick wink before disappearing in a cloud of sparkles that looked like snow and reappeared in that same cloud of sparkles on the other side of the living room. He had stayed out of arm’s reach of Felix, which was appreciated.

“I can also fly, but it’s kind of impractical when nobody else on this planet can,” Chan mentioned like it was no big deal as his feet slowly lifted off the ground before he floated in Felix’s general direction, still staying out of his personal space bubble.

Felix couldn’t believe his eyes, or ears as he watched the man across the room from him. He could barely wrap his head around all that happened the past fifteen minutes.

“You- you’re- that was all true?” Felix was not having a good day with his words; although who could blame him? It’s not everyday he gets visited by beautiful Christmas spirits promising to fix his loveless life.

“Everything I told you is completely true. I’m here to make your Christmas wishes come to life.” Chan set his feet back on the floor, still a respectable amount of space away, a bright smile gracing his features once again.

Felix let out a small, disbelieving laugh and shook his head as he thought everything over. Either he was really going crazy, or there truly was a Christmas fairy in his living room offering to give him the best Christmas season he’d ever had. The spirit seemed to have no ill will and was admittedly one of the hottest people—beings?— Felix had ever seen.

With a shrug he decided that if this spirit was really out here to murder him, he would let him. At least he’d get murdered by a beautiful creature that, before now, were only thought to have existed in fiction. Felix would have a great death, but he really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Since there weren’t many downsides in his eyes, Felix thought it’d be fine to see where things went from here.

“Okay,” he said, releasing a deep breath. “As long as you don’t try and kill me, you can… grant my wish? How does that work?”

Chan chuckled, shrugging his broad shoulders just slightly. “Mostly, I’m here so you have someone to be with over Christmas. We’ll go on dates, you can take me to meet your friends, and I’ll take care of you the best I can this season.”

Felix considered the other’s words. It sounded too good to be true, but the hopeless romantic in him was screaming to give this a chance and see what would happen. He only had one question before he gave in completely.

“What do you get out of it?”

“For us spirits, trying to spread joy and happiness and granting wishes like this isn’t just what we do, it’s who we are. If your wish hadn’t called out to me as strongly as it did, I’d probably still be floating around, granting minor wishes to others without them even knowing it,” the spirit explained, a look of pure sincerity on his face as he spoke. “It’s something we do not for what we can get out of it, but for what we can give to others.”

If that didn’t sound like music to Felix’s ears. This wasn’t just some little thing, this was exactly what he wished for, dropped right in his lap. And Felix was a weak, weak man, especially when it came to other pretty men who offered to grant his wishes and take him on dates and be the perfect Christmas boyfriend.

“Okay,” he said again, “I guess let’s see where this goes.”

“You won’t be disappointed, Felix, I promise.” And there Chan was, smiling like it was his wish getting granted, not the other way around. His dimples were on full display, cheeks pushing his eyes into crescents, and right that moment, Felix knew he was already in deep trouble.

He blinked a couple times and forced his still racing heart to calm down a little lest it give out on him. Felix had more questions but before he could get one out, his stomach gave a loud growl, reminding him that it was time to eat. He laughed sheepishly and looked over at where Chan was still standing, looking none the wiser to the loud grumble that came from Felix’s stomach.

“What, um, what were you doing in the kitchen?” Felix asked as he meandered toward the kitchen. He’d finally put his makeshift pen weapon down and shook out his cramping fingers as he walked.

At his question, Chan perked up and hurried back to the kitchen to show Felix what he’d been working on.

“I- I knew me just… appearing like I did might have freaked you out, which it did, oops? But, I thought maybe making you food might help you calm down, so- so I was trying to make you pancakes,” Chan said with a tiny, sheepish smile crossing his face. “I didn’t really know what you liked, so I tried to find a bunch of different toppings.”

Felix hated to admit it but he couldn’t deny how his heart melted just a little at the gesture and hopeful expression on the other’s face. As he looked at the bowls of cut up fruit and chocolate chips scattered around a big batter bowl, he felt more and more sure that he’d made the right decision. This pancake-making spirit meant him no harm.

“Oh, Chan, this- this is actually really sweet.” Felix picked up a couple chips from one bowl and popped them into his mouth before adding, “Pancakes are always a nice touch, a surefire way to win over anyone who’s house you break into.”

At that, Chan’s eyes widened in concern, making him look more like a wounded puppy than a powerful being that could fly and teleport at will. Felix cringed internally, maybe 10 minutes into their—relationship? Was it a relationship? Could Felix call it that yet? He wasn’t sure— but maybe 10 minutes into their… thing was too early to break out the sarcasm.

“I’m sorry!” He hurried to correct himself, “That was a joke, a really bad one for right now. The pancakes are a really nice touch, end of sentence.”

“Do you mean it? I can just clean up if you don’t want any.” Chan still looked unsure and Felix felt like the worst person ever for making him feel bad.

“I promise,” Felix attempted to console the other. “I love pancakes and sweet things, you can ask any of my friends when you meet them.”

“If you’re sure then, I’ll start cooking them for you.” And just like that, the clouds lifted from Chan’s expression and he went back to his previously smiley self.

Chan promptly set back about his previous pancake mission focused, with one goal in mind. When Felix offered to help, Chan simply gave him disarmingly sweet smile and waved him off, stating he wanted to learn the kitchen for himself. It was no trouble really, and he was happy to do it, he wanted to do it, he reassured Felix and shooed him over to the living room to find a movie for them both to watch while they ate.

Felix wasn’t sure how he felt at first about being (albeit nicely) pushed out of his own kitchen. Although once he started smelling the delightful scent of fresh pancakes wafting his way, he decided he didn’t care quite as much. Plus, it wasn’t like he could’ve made anything better on his own. Felix was a phenomenal baker, but all of his attempts to make anything other than baked goods in the kitchen were far less than stellar at best.

He flopped on his couch and started scrolling through the list of movies he had saved, trying to find anything that didn’t scream “I’m very lonely and available and live out those feelings through the movies I watch, please love me!” He didn’t like his odds.

But finally, he decided that if Chan was going to be with him, he should know all the weird, sappy parts of him. Chan was the one who wanted to answer his wish and cure his loneliness, it would only be right to truly let him know what he was getting himself into. So, Felix picked out one of his favorite sappy Christmas movies and waited for Chan to announce when the pancakes were ready.

Breakfast went smoothly and Chan didn’t say a word about the movie choice. As they ate, Felix’s confidence in his decision completely solidified; Chan’s pancakes were out of this world.

The rest of the day passed without many mishaps, Felix showed Chan the rest of his apartment even though Chan already knew his way around from carrying Felix to bed the night before. Felix tidied up around the apartment and Chan insisted on helping even when he was told he didn’t need to.

Felix didn’t quite know how to treat Chan just yet. They weren’t an item but also they already were. Chan was a guest but also he wasn’t. In addition, Felix didn’t know what he was going to do about extra clothes for Chan yet or if the spirit had any money or if making things appear was another one of his abilities.

Chan certainly couldn’t wear Felix’s clothes, as despite them being roughly the same height, Chan had far more bulked out muscles than Felix. While Felix’s muscles were lean, Chan’s were thicker, much like his ass, that Felix had definitely not spent half the day trying not to look at when the spirit walked by. Felix could spend the next day or so figuring everything out and take him shopping for more clothes either way. He also made a mental note to ask the spirit about what other hidden abilities he may have.

Throughout the day, Felix had also taken plenty of opportunities to look at his new roommate. He didn’t want to seem creepy and stare at Chan, so he’d just sneak peeks out of the corner of his eye or when the other would turn his back.

There was no denying the spirit was beautiful, he was practically Felix’s perfect type. They were about the same height, but Chan was much more broad and muscular, he looked like he could lift Felix right off the ground without much strain at all. Chan’s face didn’t seem to match his strong body completely with dark curly hair that fluffed around his head and warm brown eyes that crinkled around the edges when he smiled. And Felix couldn’t get started on those dimples; he’d always been weak for them and now was no exception.

Felix was grateful that the Christmas spirit that heard his wish was as pretty as Chan. He didn’t know if all the spirits were this pretty, yet he still felt lucky that his not only seemed too sweet to be real, but was also just as nice to look at.

Felix was happy to have someone around for the day and just enjoyed slowly getting used to having another person in the house with him. Chan was sweet and insisted on making dinner after Felix beat him to lunch-making earlier in the day. He was phenomenal in the kitchen as Felix was quickly discovering and who was Felix to deny his new beautiful roommate the pleasure of making wonderful food for them?

It was after dinner, as they were planning to go to sleep that Felix realized a big mistake in he’d made when he agreed to let Chan stay with him.

Felix only had one bed.

He only had a couple options that he could think of to solve this. Let Chan have his bed while he took the couch; he wasn’t about to make Chan sleep on the couch, he was still new and Felix felt like it’d just be mean to take the bed from him.

There was one other option but he didn’t know he felt about it yet. They could both share Felix’s bed, it was big enough to fit them both comfortably but Felix was unsure if he should even bring that up. He and Chan had just met earlier that day and he didn’t know if this was truly moving too fast. Granted, they both knew why Chan was there so Felix was more inclined to give into his a bit too rapidly growing feelings, but he didn’t know if this step was too quick even for their situation.

“You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch,” Felix said, trying to stay nonchalant as he handed Chan extra toiletries to use.

“O-Oh, um, that’s okay,” Chan replied, looking the smallest bit disappointed by Felix’s words. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Felix shook his head quickly. “No, you- you shouldn’t have to do that, it’d be wrong of me to make you sleep there. It’s okay, I promise.”

Chan just nodded, giving Felix a tiny, unsure smile back, looking very much like he’d just been accused of doing something wrong.

“Have- have I done something wrong?” Chan’s voice was hesitant and timid as he spoke, afraid of upsetting the human he now lived with.

Felix paused in the middle of putting toothpaste of his toothbrush to give Chan a look. “Of course not, why would you think that?”

Chan shrugged, looking down and fiddling with the toothbrush he still held in his hands. “Just… I thought we could both stay in your bed. That’s- that’s what I came I here for, to keep you safe and give you company. I can’t do that with either of us on the couch.”

Oh.

Felix really hadn’t thought this through. He never would’ve imagined something like this could’ve hurt Chan so badly. The more he pondered, the more it made sense; this was what the spirit came to him for, so turning him down after spending the whole day together must have felt like a horrible rejection.

“Oh… I understand that, I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted,” Felix started, giving Chan a genuine smile. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but I’m okay staying in the same bed if you are.”

At his words, Chan’s shoulders seemed to sag slightly in relief and his face lightened up immediately.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Plus, I- I like cuddles before sleeping,” Felix chuckled shyly, trying desperately to ignore the way his face flushed the more he spoke.

Chan positively beamed, the confirmation he was doing a good job was all he needed to fully relax once again. “I’m glad I can help with that, then. I quite literally live for joy and feelings like these.”

Felix’s face heated up more and he quickly went back about his business of brushing his teeth. It had been less than a full day and already this spirit was wiggling his way deep into Felix’s heart. Not that he was complaining, it seemed like for once, Felix might actually have a love that lasts.

The two went about their business of getting ready for sleep and tucked themselves into bed. It was a little awkward at first as Felix was completely overthinking every little twitch and move he or Chan made. That was until Chan let out a sleepy sigh and turned onto his side, throwing an arm over Felix’s middle and pulling him flush against his chest.

“I could hear you overthinking, stop stressing so much and just let it happen,” came the sleep-riddled mumble from behind Felix.

Truly, Felix didn’t know how Chan expected him to relax and fall asleep after that move. He had a beautiful man right behind him, his breath warm against the back of Felix’s neck and Felix was sure he’d never been quite as aware of his own existence as he was in that moment.

Eventually, through soft little reassurances that it was alright and sleep was good and that he didn’t need to worry so much, Felix slowly succumbed to the exhaustion that had overtaken him. And if the comforting weight of Chan’s arm across his middle did anything to push him closer to sleep, Felix would never admit it aloud.

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read part two here!

#stray kids #bang chan #chanlix #felix #lee felix #christmas #christmas fairy #fluff #skz fluff #skz felix #skz bang chan #love #they’re in love your honor #i’m so soft for them #🫶#skz

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