#I don't hate the fic or anything I'm just genuinely not surprised that it's the least popular | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anjaelle · 1 year

Note

Hii I’m in loveeee with your writing I was wondering if you could write a Dave Lizewski x bimbo reader fic?

Oooh this sounds fun. I had to ruminate on this a bit, but I think I got it.

Pairing: College!Dave Lizewski x Bimbo!Reader

Rating: She's tame

Word Count: 1.3K

He was staring again. Every time you turned to look at him, he would quickly avert his eyes to the front of the room. In confusion, you turned to look behind you, only to see the blank wall of the classroom. You looked back at him and found him staring straight ahead like he'd been caught doing something bad.

You pulled your phone out of your bag and opened the front facing camera to check to see if you forgot to properly blend your makeup again. Or maybe you had crumbs on your face.

It didn't look like you had anything on your face. Though you did think you could use a re-up on gloss, and maybe a touch-up on your brows. You accidentally left your makeup bag in your dorm, and you kept losing all of your backup purse makeup, so all you had was a lip balm and school stuff. You supposed that you could use this as an excuse to do a quick drugstore run across the street to pick up another backup makeup kit. But you also felt like you'd be missing out on the sushi buffet in the dining hall if you got there too late. You hadn't had sushi in a long time, it would've been a shame to miss it. Then again you could always order it from that one spot you went to with that one guy. What was his name again? Something with a "F"--

"Hello?" The professor said, addressing you and pulling you out of your thoughts. You raised your brows in surprise, and smiled sweetly.

"Hi!"

Your professor tapped her chin with a beautifully manicured nail and looked you over with a funny look on her face. "Your presentation topic for next week?"

"Oh!" You said, looking down at your notes. "Well, I might talk a little about how hard influencing is and how it's actually harder than a 9-5 job. I'm still deciding. What do you think, professor?"

There were a few whispers in the class as she thought hard on the question. At least that's what you thought she was doing.

"Why don't you workshop that and get back to me tomorrow?" She finally said, turning away from you and moving onto another classmate.

You pouted at yet another presentation subject being shot down and made a note in the margins of your notebook to do just that. You hated going to her office hours, because you felt like you could never really do anything right.

When class let out, you pulled your phone out to text your friends about your change of plans tomorrow, when you felt a gentle touch on your elbow and turned to find Lizewski. Knowing that he was quiet and always a little bit stuttery, you smiled politely and gave him your full attention.

"Hi, how are you?"

"H-Hey," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Uh...I saw that you've been having a bit of a hard time with our media class."

A few people passed by the two of you in the hallway and greeted you but shot a curious look his way.

"It's so bad isn't it?" You frowned, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "I'm literally so great at most Social Media outlets, I don't understand why this is so hard. I mean...it's all the same shit."

He nodded, wide eyed and eager as always, "You're so right."

"And I'm trying really hard, but I just can't get it."

"I can help!" He blurted out. "Only if you want. I mean, you probably don't need my help. But I'd be happy to, if you want."

"You'd help me?" You asked, genuinely touched. "I don't know if I can pay you much, but how much do you want?"

"You don't have to pay me, come on." He dropped his eyes to his sneakers and shifted his weight on his feet, "We've known each other since middle school."

This time your eyes widened in surprise, "We have?"

This time it was his turn to look at you in surprise and confusion, "You went to my Bar Mitzvah."

"I did?" Then you thought about it, "I only remember going to one, and it was this boy named David."

He let out a short laugh and nodded, "Yes, that was me."

"David?! But everyone calls you Lizewski! That's your last name?" He nodded again and you gasped. Your whole world turned upside down. Without thinking you pulled him into a tight hug, "It's so nice to see you again, David! I thought you moved away in high school!"

"No," he said against your shoulder, "I just grew my hair out. And got taller. And you can call me Dave, or David, or Lisewski. Whatever you want."

You pulled away from the hug with a huge grin, and you reached out to readjust his glasses which sat crookedly on his face. Then you looked him over, trying to see the skinny thirteen year old you remembered in the grown man in front of you. You could almost see it. If he cut his hair shorter, and lost about a foot of height, he'd totally look the same. You grasped his shoulders in appreciation.

"Well this is wonderful! I've never had a friend for longer than 3 years before!"

As you walked side by side across campus, you could feel people staring like you had three heads. After the fourth set of eyes on you, you nudged Dave with your elbow.

"Do I have something on my face?" You tilted your head from side to side so he could examine you properly, and he shook his head.

"No, why?"

"People keep staring at me." You frowned, "It's kind of weird."

Dave said nothing at first, but looked around to see the evidence of your suspicion and sighed. "I think it's because you're hanging out with me."

You snorted, "That can't be it. That's so silly."

He kicked a small rock down the footpath and hummed in disagreement, "Is it? I mean...you're you. I'm me. We don't really hang out. I think people are used to seeing you with guys from...Sigma Alpha Epsilon"

You still didn't get it, and you crinkled your nose in disgust at the mention of the name.

"I don't talk to them. They're losers," you shuddered again, "They all have a weird obsession with skulls too. Have you ever seen those skulls with the blue stripe down the middle? They all have them on their trucks. It's so weird."

You watched him raise a single brow as he kicked the rock further down the path, "Are you talking about The Punisher's symbol?"

Before you could ask, he showed you a picture on his phone and you nodded.

"Yeah that's it! What's The Punisher? Is that, like, a band?"

He chuckled, "It's a comic book character and his symbol gets misused a lot. He's a vigilante."

You frowned, thinking of why someone would choose to do something like that. That seemed kind of mean.

"Well can you really see me hanging out with a bunch of guys who like vigilantes?"

For some reason, Dave's step seemed to falter, and he peered at you curiously, "Oh. Are you--do you think vigilantes are bad?"

There was a hint of poorly disguised panic in his voice.

You were confused about why he was confused. The answer was obvious.

"Vigils are a good thing," you said, matter-of-factly. You were surprised that you had to break this down to someone as smart as him. "Sometimes people have vigils for their dead grandmas and their pets, and stuff. Someone who's anti-vigils is obviously not a good person."

Dave gave you a long, strange look and laughed. Like, actually laughed. You didn't understand what was so funny about being pro-vigils. You felt like that wasn't exactly a controversial opinion. Were you on the wrong side of history this whole time? Were vigils actually bad?

"Are they bad for the environment or something? Like, the candles?" You squinted at him. He rushed to ease your worries with an extended hand.

"No! No, it's--vigilantes aren't people who are anti-vigils. They beat up bad people."

Oh.

"What a weird name to have for that," You admitted rolling the word over in your brain. Then you brightened at the memory of something, "Hey there was a guy back home that was like that! Kick-Ass! Do you remember him?"

He said nothing for a moment, but shrugged in response.

"Yeah, kinda."

"All the girls in our grade were obsessed with him," you continued, fishing through your bag for your dorm key. "At first, we thought it was that one weird guy who used to try and sell us coke from the trunk of his car down the street from our school. But one girl said that he saved her dad from getting jumped, and he was apparently, like, young. At least college aged."

"Ha," Dave simply said, "Maybe. I kind of remember people thinking it was someone from our school, though. Someone most people wouldn't even really expect, because it'd be super hard to keep a low profile. Someone who's probably super strong and really cool, even though most people don't know it."

You suddenly giggled, "What if it was that guy Todd Haynes?"

Dave stumbled over his own feet and shot his hand out to steady himself.

"You know who Todd Haynes is?"

"Yeah, I know him. He was in my gym class!"

"He's my best friend, I've known him my whole life. I'm--shocked that you know him." You brightened at the new information.

"I didn't know Todd had friends! You sure are full of surprises today." He stared at you again. For a super long time. You weren't sure what was going on in his brain. You touched your cheek, "Again with the staring. I think you're lying. I definitely have something on my face."

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson #jaelle writes

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delqcate · 5 months

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hi angel!!! im aware of how super busy you are rn, but I can't get like frenemies scott barringer and reader out of my head, imagine it, like he's so annoyed by everything she does, she's the total opposite of him, sweet and kind, but also the sarcastic angry feminist, and he's the self-righteous football captain arsehole.

But no matter what he does, she's constantly stuck in his head, and it's kinda like the song "you look so pretty, pretty like the sun, i could watch forever while you shine on everyone" and he's so in love and a little insecure, which he covers up with this pompous arrogant fboy persona

anyways, you're writing gives me life more than anything! when i first discovered your flannel shirt fic on scott, i became obsessed and stalked your profile and obsessively read through all your fanfics, hayden characters or not, I read them all, and im head over heels in love w u :) you genuinely write the best fluff ever, like your my favourite blog for fluff, like don't get me wrong smut is cute and that, but god i would kill for some forehead kisses and hayden fluff

because i love you.

scott barringer x reader

anon you own my whole heart ilysm!!! you're soso incredibly sweet and being your favorite fluff writer??? such an incredible honor 🥹 i'm sorry it took me a while to get to writing this and i feel so bad cause i feel like i just didn't have enough inspiration for this so it's all messy but I hope it's still good. scott and shelby don't get together here but they're still good friends

summary: you and scott don't necessarily hate each other, but you can't tolerate both that much either. after a plan gone wrong, turns out there's a reason why.

warnings/cw: swearing, kissing (i don't know if that's warnings but yeah), fluff fluff fluff

word count: 1.9k

Where does Scott even begin with you? The Cliffhanger's sweetheart, the epitome of the sun in this hell hole, is his friend. Well, sort of.

Because every time he was near you, it felt like he was constantly basking in the sun, yet at the same time, he was warmed up by everything you did, from your smile to your voice. It was almost like he was constantly taunted.

He couldn't get enough of you, though. You were everything he's ever wanted—the warmth and love of another—and yet he still seems to be pushing you away.

But then that all changes when a little surprise is left on one of the class boards one morning when Scott and the other Cliffhangers are called to meet up with Peter and Sophie.

Scott walks into the classroom, wearing a sweater he just threw on due to the cold, and looks at the board in confusion. "Morp? Wh-what's a morp?" His brow was furrowed, and he frankly didn't care too much about decoding it until Auggie followed from behind him. "Oh, cool, a prom?"

Scott looks at Auggie, realizing everyone else is inside already. His eyes land on you, and he suddenly can't focus on anything but you. Everyone was taking a seat, and it took him a moment to realize you sat with him until a hand waved at his face.

"Scott, y'there?" Your voice rings out, and he looks at you, his face brooding as always. "Why? What's up?" He clears his throat and focuses his gaze on you. Despite hating you, he seems to be interested in what you have to say. Probably just sucking it up so it would be over.

You look at him, and suddenly you find yourself drawn to his eyes. Do they seem more blue than usual lately, or have they always been this way? But you don't have time to ponder about that because now it’s his turn to snap you out of your thoughts.

"Hey, are you there?" He gives you a small smirk, and you playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah, sorry,” you say, clearing your throat and resting your head on your palm. “Sophie and Peter paired us for morp planning.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he immediately covers them up with his emotionless stare again. “Why us? ," he asks, sounding annoyed. “Dunno,” you reply. “Probably ‘to build a stronger relationship between us’,” you say, playfully mocking what Peter constantly tells everyone whenever there’s a team activity.

He let out a soft scoff but couldn't help but let a smirk form on his lips. He was starting to let his guard down, something he rarely does around people; besides Shelby, she relates to him more than anyone. "Yeah, all that bullshit."

You nod and chuckle, watching as he bounces his leg, a habit you share with him. "All we have to do is plan the music, so it shouldn't be too bad. They're letting us use Peter's office and a couple more gadgets, I think." You shrug, but all you could think of was Scott.

Spending time alone with him in a room for days on end sounded both eventful and terrifying. But at least it was him instead of anyone else; at least you could get some peace and quiet for once.

————————————————————————

It had been days since you and Scott were assigned to make the playlist, and despite the bickering and constant grogginess you two would feel the next day, it was bearable. It caused something in Scott to brew—something he thought he could keep in, but it was just waiting to burst.

Scott dragged Shelby away to a corner in the common room—not the best place to have a private conversation, but it'll do.

"Let me guess," Shelby starts, her gaze landing on Ophelia talking to Peter and back at Scott. "You need advice to ask her out?" Scott scrunches up his face, annoyed but thinking about it. "Well, yeah," he says after a moment.

She chuckles and looks over at you again, trying to think of anything. "Morp's tomorrow, Scott. How are you sure Auggie or someone else asked her out?" Scott suddenly seemed upset at the thought, however. "You think Auggie has more of a chance than me?" His angry question was a little too loud, loud enough to catch your attention, at least.

Shelby quickly looks away and narrows her eyes at Scott, slapping his arm playfully. "Will you keep it down, you idiot?" He whines and leans against the wall, crossing his arms and staring at you from afar. "How am I ever going to ask her out? I'm just the cocky football star, a pompous asshole fuckboy. Every bad thing you could think of."

She sighs and moves closer, taking his hand and watching his expression before continuing, "Sure, you can be a complete asshole." He scoffs and looks at the floor. "Great way to start that off," he muttered. She rolls her eyes and continues with, "But all that matters is what they think of you. You wanna go all out and be stupid with your promposal? Go ahead. I'll be there every stupid step in the way."

He moves his gaze on her and mutters, "Stop calling me stupid. But, thanks."

————————————————————————

The plan was perfect. You and Shelby would be hanging out together, saying some good stuff about Scott, and Scott would play football with Auggie. Auggie would throw the ball at you, and he would save you. He would tie that to some smooth way to ask you out, but he would worry about that later. What was the worst that could happen?

Scott watches nervously as Shelby and you sit at the bleachers, taking a deep breath as Shelby discreetly nods and Scott starts to play. Your gaze moves to Scott, and a small smile grows on your face. Seeing Scott play football was cute to you. Despite being an ex-football captain, he still never lost his love for the sport, and you admire him for that.

Shelby notices your stare and chuckles, looking at Scott and back at you. "You eyeing Scott?" Your cheeks heat up and your eyes land on her, shaking your head as your face gets all flushed up. "No- well yeah, but not in that way! He's my friend; I just want to watch him."

Your gaze moves back to the two boys playing, and you swear you saw Scott wink at you, but maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you; he probably got something in his eye.

But you didn't even have time to think because the football started flying towards you, and Scott's amazing plan came crashing down as soon as the ball hit him right in the face.

"Scott!" You yell out and rush down to him with Shelby. He lets out a loud groan and covers his face. He's never felt so much pain and embarrassment before. "Auggie, fuck!" He groans out. "I didn't mean to, I- I'm sorry!" Auggie frowns and looks at the two, watching as you take Scott into your arms and prop your leg up for him to rest on.

"Shit- Scott, move your hand." You frown and try to move his hand, watching as a crowd of people form, someone rushing to grab Peter. Scott whines and shakes his head, saying something about how it really hurt, but it's muffled from his hands.

"C'mon, please? I swear the pain will be gone soon; I need to see how bad it is." You were trying to stay calm for the both of you, and after a moment, he moves his hands away to reveal a bleeding nose and some tears.

You wince and help him stand up. With the help of Shelby and Auggie, you guys safely bring him to the girls rooms and onto your bed, hurrying off to the bathroom while the two find something that could help Scott besides a wet rag.

You return to him on the bed and move his hand away. A small hiss escapes you, and you start to clean him up. The silence was killing you after a while, so you mumbled out, "That was stupid, y'know?"

He looks at you with an annoyed expression and scoffs, trying not to move too much as you clean his nose and check if it is broken. "Well, I'm sorry for saving your life," he says sarcastically, clearly upset that you didn't appreciate him saving you. Maybe his plan was just stupid.

"I mean, I appreciate it, but look at you now." You frown and place the rag on your side table, grabbing some tissues to clean the spot better. "Why'd you do it? Ruin your oh-so-perfect face for me?" He smirks and looks at you. "You like my face, huh?" You roll your eyes, and he lets out a small laugh as you punch his arm.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it." He lets his laughter die down and listens to the two of you breathing. It calmed him down to hear your breath, especially because he definitely needed to calm down. He took a deep breath and calmly let out, "Because I love you."

You stop your arm and move your gaze from his nose to his gaze, which was locked onto yours. You couldn't tell if it was because he was frozen in embarrassment or because he wanted to show you he really meant it; either way, it left you shocked.

How does he like you? He's made it very clear that he has some hatred towards you , so it didn't make sense. "But the way you act around me—" he quickly interrupted you. "It's because I'm insecure." He sighs and looks down at his hands, feeling the embarrassment creep up on him.

"You're just so- so gorgeous. You make everyone smile and laugh; it's like the goddamn sun. You shine so bright, and I can't help but feel this jealousy towards you because everyone gets to experience all of that." Although he didn't outright say it, it was clear to you that he was jealous, and it was incredibly adorable.

You let out a soft laugh, and at first he thought you were laughing at him, but a small smile formed on his lips when he realized you were laughing with him. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I feel like I shine brighter when I'm with you. You make me sparkle, I guess."

He chuckles and moves a little closer, sensing the change in tension, and he was sure you did too because you moved closer. "Sparkle, huh? What are you, a vampire?" He smirks and wraps his arm around you, making you roll your eyes and cup his cheek. "Just shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am." He smirks wider and kisses you gently, immediately crash-landing into heaven as soon as he feels your lips. They were soft and felt heavenly, just like he imagined. The kiss grew deeper but didn't last too long as someone threw a box of bandages at them.

Scott pulls away in annoyance but quickly gets flustered as soon as he sees Shelby and Auggie; he completely forgets they were coming back. "Congratulations, lovebirds!" Shelby smirks and moves her gaze between Scott and you. "But do us all a favor and get a room, will you?"

You let out a small chuckle and quickly helped Scott clean up, hearing the pair's footsteps as they headed outside. Despite both of you being complete opposites, Something told you it would all work out in the long run.

taglist: none!

#★ — ﹙daydreaming . . . 📜﹚#dividers from cafekitsune #scott barringer #scott barringer fluff #scott barringer x reader #scott barringer imagine #hayden christensen #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine

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acewritesfics · 10 months

Text

36 Minutes | TOMMY SHELBY

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST. ⚠️

Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Fic Type: Imagine, fluff.

Request: from @runnning-outof-time from my valentines special over on main blog.

PROMPTS: being stood up, meet cute, and proposal.

Warnings: Slightly Workaholic!Tommy. Break up over the phone. Swearing. Time jump at the end.

Word Count: 2,908

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST

Not caring that she's in one of the fanciest restaurants in London, Y/N has her elbows on the table, her chin resting on a closed first while her other hand swirls the wine in her glass around before she takes a sip. She looks around the restaurant longingly wishing she was any of the happy couples that surrounded her. After placing her glass on the table, she picks up her phone, checking the time and see if she had any messages from her boyfriend.

It was 30 minutes after their reservation had been made. The only message she’s received is from her mum letting her know that her date went well, and she wouldn't be home until tomorrow if not tonight.

‘At least my mum's having a lovely time...’ she thinks to herself. It's been a few years since her dad left her mum for a much younger woman. Y/N was excited to hear that her mum was going out on a date this valentine with her first love. They reconnected about a year ago and have been close since. Y/N is genuinely happy for her mum. She deserves to be happy again.

Finishing the last of her wine, she waves the waiter over, "I'll take one more and if he hasn't arrived in ten minutes, I'll give up the table to someone else and move to the bar," she tells him holding up her empty glass.

"Sure thing, Miss," he smiles sadly at her as he pours more wine into the glass, making sure to fill it up a little more than he usually would. "If you don't mind me saying, whoever is keeping you waiting is surely a fool."

"Well, the thing is..." she pauses to get his name.

"Joe," he tells her.

"Joe," she repeats with a smile, but her eyes hold no joy, "The thing is Joe, you're absolutely right. He is a fool for keeping me waiting but I am also a fool for waiting for him."

"I don't think you're a fool, Miss," he assures her. "None of this is your doing. It's all on him."

"Thank you, Joe," she says giving him a more genuine smile now. "If you weren't working, I would invite you to sit with me."

"Speaking of work, I better get back to it," he tells her. "I'll be around if you need me again." Joe leaves making his way over to the maître de.

Picking up her phone, she goes through her messages until she finds the ones from her boyfriend. Tapping on it, she starts typing a not so lovely message for him when she hears someone sit across from her.

Looking up, thinking it could finally be here boyfriend joining her for their valentine's day dinner, she's surprised to see a man she doesn't recognize.

“Uh… excuse me, I think you have the wrong table,” she says to the man typing on his phone. He looks up, his beautiful blue eyes connecting with hers. ‘My goodness, he's beautiful...’ she thinks as she swallows the lump that has formed in her throat. Feeling slightly intimidated under his gaze, she stands up from her seat. “I was actually about to leave so… you can keep the table.” When he doesn’t say anything, she picks up her phone and clutch. “I uh… I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.” She goes to leave when he stops her.

“Stay,” he finds himself telling her. She goes to refuse when he speaks again stopping her. "My business partner just cancelled on me, and I don't really want to waste a reservation here."

"I'm waiting for my boyfriend," she tells him.

"You said you were leaving, how long have you been waiting for him?" he questions her, his intimidating but beautiful eyes still boring into her.

She looks at the time on her phone. "36 minutes."

"I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but he's not coming," he says.

If she knew it wasn't true would have come back with a retort, but she knew this stranger was right. This isn't the first time he hasn't shown up for their date and it wasn't uncommon for him to be late.

"I know," she sighs.

"So, let me make a proposal," he says.

"Little early for that, isn't it," she tries to make a joke. "We only just met."

He rolls his eyes. "Both our plans have fallen through. Instead of letting our reservations go to waste, you should stay and have dinner with me."

"But we are," she points out as she accepts his lack of a 'proposal'. "Were you really meeting your business partner in the fanciest restaurant in London on what is meant to be the most romantic night of the year?"

"Valentine's Day?" he asks before shrugging. "It's just another day to me."

"Do you not have someone special to spend it with?"

"I haven't had someone special in a while," he admits. "Does my work count?"

Her eyes widen as she shakes his head, "No, it doesn't."

As his phone begins to ring, she bites the inside of her cheek and watches him answer it. Knowing that this is how her date with her boyfriend would have gone and not wanting to spend her evening this way, she gets an idea.

Reaching across the table, she snatches his phone from him and holds it to her ear as begins to talk into it, ignoring the death glare her impromptu date is sending her. "Sorry for the rude interruption but is there any way that this can wait until tomorrow?" she asks the person on the other side as she gives him a sheepish smile.

"Who are you? Where's Tommy?" A woman's voice comes through.

"I'm his date for this evening," she tells her.

"His date?" the woman asks sounding surprised. "This certainly can wait until tomorrow. Let him know I told him to relax and enjoy himself and make sure to turn off his phone. The man needs a night away from work."

"I'll make sure to do that. You have a lovely evening ma'am," Y/N tells her.

"Call me Polly, love," she can hear the smile in Polly's voice. She glances at Tommy, her smile more confident than a moment ago and his death glare turning to a look of annoyance, but his eyes gave away to his amusement. "You have a lovely evening as well. Tommy will treat you well," she adds before ending the call.

As soon as the call ends, she turns off Tommy's phone. "Polly seems lovely. She told me to tell you to relax and enjoy yourself and for me to turn off your phone." She goes to hand his phone back to him but pulls it back towards herself before he can take it from her. "You can have it back if you promise me that you won't turn it back on."

He looks at her unimpressed but sighs. "Fine, but only if you tell me your name."

"It's Y/N," she smiles and hands it to him giving him the benefit of the doubt. Instead of turning it back on like she thought he would, he places it back inside his pocket.

"I'm Tommy," he introduces himself just as Joe returns to their table.

"I'm sorry for what I just did. I'm usually not that forward," she apologizes when Joe leaves, after taking their drink and meal orders.

"I was being rude," he admits. "I asked you to stay and I answered my phone like you weren’t here. But why did you do it?"

"If my boyfriend was here, it would have been the same," she answers as a sadness comes over her as she thinks about her boyfriend. He got her to make the reservations and promised to give her a night filled with romance and love with no interruptions, but he was the one who hasn’t shown up or bothered to call or message her with an excuse. "Sometimes I feel as though work comes first."

Tommy looks down at the table, a guilty look in his eyes. "I was a bit of a workaholic when I met my wife."

"You're married?" she asks, surprised. Polly never alluded to him being married. It seemed she encouraged their little 'date'.

"Widowed," he tells her. "My wife died a few years ago."

"I'm sorry," she says, looking at him with sympathy.

"How long have you been with your boyfriend?" he asks, wanting to move on from his deceased wife. Tommy wasn't even sure why he brought it up to her, a stranger who he has no plans on seeing after tonight.

"Five years," she tells him.

"And he's still only your boyfriend?" he asks.

"We did talk about getting married once," she tells him, feeling as though he's being a little judgmental. "Three years ago," she sighs seeing his point.

"Can I ask something without you getting mad at me?" he asks her.

"Go ahead. I'm sure it can’t make me as mad as my boyfriend’s made me," she tells him, now feeling more disappointed than mad at her boyfriend.

"Why are you still with him?"

At first, she wanted to defend the man she's been with for the past five years, but nothing really came to mind. At first their relationship had been great. They made time for each other, went away on trips together, took holidays in the summer, had sex whenever they got the chance and were happy and in love. It was the past two years when things took a turn. Their time together becoming less and less, their talks of marriage and a family fading along with it and the arguments became more frequent. There's no more love between them. She doesn't know why she hasn't ended it with him yet. Maybe she was holding on to hope that the man she fell in love with would return and it would go back to how it was.

"I don't know," she honestly tells him. "I really don't know."

After eating, Tommy pays for their meals and drinks despite Y/N's protests of being able to pay for herself. He refuses to let her say he was the one who invited her to stay and that she should never have to pay for herself in the first place, given it was her idiot boyfriend’s idea to go out for dinner in the first place.

As they leave the restaurant, they both find themselves not wanting the night to end just yet. It was the most fun they've had in a while, smiling and laughing, telling old stories, her boyfriend and his deceased wife not once coming up again as they enjoyed their meals.

"You should let us take you home," Tommy tells her as he stands beside his car. His driver was already out and holding the door open for him.

"I need to go figure out why my boyfriend was a no show," she sighs, wanting nothing more than to leave with the pretty blue-eyed man. As if her boyfriend knew she was speaking about him, her phone began to ring, flashing his photo and name. "Speaking of the devil."

Before she could answer it, Tommy takes her phone and answers it for her. "Y/N's a little busy right now. You'll have to call her back later or never."

"Tommy," she scolds him trying to get her phone back. He holds up his finger as he moves to avoid her trying to take it back from him.

"Who are you?" Y/N can hear her boyfriend ask when Tommy pulls the phone away to put it on speaker and hold the phone further away from her.

"I'm Tommy," he introduces himself. "And I just spent a wonderful evening with your girlfriend, who you stood up. She's a lovely woman, by the way. Deserves far better than this."

"You think you can give her better?" her boyfriend speaks, not realizing he's on speaker.

"I don't think I can," Tommy begins. "I know I can," he adds his eyes looking deeply into hers, letting her know he means every word.

"You can have her, mate," she hears him say making her eyes snap to her phone. "Just a word of warning, she's clingy, demanding, whiny and she'll hold you back."

Feeling her heart drop into her stomach, Tommy lets her have her phone back. "I wouldn't have to be those things if you actually made time for me, you arrogant, self-centered, neglectful bastard. You and your tiny dick can fuck right off."

Her boyfriend starts to stutter out an apology but instead of listening to it, she ends the call and blocks his number knowing he'll try to ring her back. "Does that offer to take me home still stand?"

"Of course, Love," Tommy smiles as he helps her into the car before he gets in himself.

1 YEAR LATER:

"Tommy, we're going to be late," Y/N giggles, biting her lip to stop the moan that's threatening to escape her throat. Tommy has her trapped in his arms as he trails kisses up her throat and along her jawline to the sweet spot below her ear.

"Good thing I own the bloody restaurant now, eh?" She feels him smirk against her skin before moving back to press his lips to hers.

After the night they met, Y/N and Tommy continued to hit it off. Their relationship quickly developed, and Tommy always made sure to make time for her as well as letting her know how much he loves and appreciates her. Despite the bumps in their relationship, Y/N is far happier with Tommy than she ever was with her ex-boyfriend. Tommy knew within the first four months of their relationship Y/N would be the one he gets remarried to. Not only were they great together, she and Charlie got along like a house on fire and often ganged up together against him. It made his heart swell seeing his son happy again. Y/N knows she’ll never replace his mum, who Tommy opened up to her about not long into their relationship, but she sure does love him as if he’s her own child.

Tommy helps Y/N into her coat and opens the door to go outside. Leading her out to the car, he helps her in before getting in beside her.

“What time do you have that meeting tomorrow?” She asks him when they’re not far from arriving at the restaurant.

“Not until the afternoon. I told them I won’t be coming in until after lunch,” he replies taking her hand into his and kisses the back of it. “No more talk about work. Tonight’s about us.”

“Can you believe we only met a year ago,” she smiles turning her body slightly towards him. “Do you think we’d be here if you hadn’t mistakenly sat at my table and begged me to have dinner with you,” she jests.

“I think you and I remember it differently,” he chuckles, looking at her lovingly. “Who said it was a mistake? And I didn’t beg you to stay.”

“You called it a proposal,” she teases. “It wasn’t a very good one, to be honest.”

“You still stayed,” he points out.

“Can’t pass up a free dinner,” she smiles as the car comes to a stop in front of the restaurant that they met at, which Tommy just so happened to buy a few weeks after that.

The door opens and Tommy gets out before helping her out also. Stepping out of the car, she notices the lights are off inside the restaurant. “Did you close the restaurant on one of the busiest nights of the year?”

“We can afford to close for one night,” he tells her as he leads her inside. “Tonight’s also a special night.”

As they enter the dining area, she gasps in amazement seeing a single table is set up for two with a candle, some rose petals scattered around it, a champagne bucket with the most expensive bottle sitting inside it. The lights are dimmed and there’s music playing softly in the background.

“This is incredible, Tom,” she says leaning back into Tommy as his arms wrap around her waist.

“It’s all for you, love,” he says, softly kissing her cheek before letting her go and moving to stand in front of her. “Before we eat, I have one more surprise for you.”

She’s unable to say anything, becoming speechless as Tommy pulls out a ring box from inside his suits pocket. “I can list everything I love about you, but we’d be here forever so instead I want to spend the rest of our lives showing you how much I love, appreciate, want and need you. I can’t imagine spending a day without you in my life. Will you do me the honour and make me the happiest man and marry me?”

Unable to speak through her tears she nods her head, holding her left hand out towards him. Slipping the ring on her finger, he pulls her in for a passionate kiss.

“I love you,” he says in between kisses.

“I love you too,” she says finding her voice, breaking the kiss to hug him tightly. “Now this is how proposals are done,” she chuckles, teasing him.

“I did have a year to prepare,” he smiles and pulls her in for another kiss.

CREDIT: Razorblade and dots dividers made by me. Peaky Blinders divider made by @/firefly-graphics. Support divider made by @/cafekitsune.

TAGGED: @forgottenpeakywriter | @rainydayteacups | @bernelflo

#acewritesfics repost #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagines

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mammalsofaction · 2 months

Text

SIKE! GET LOVED IDIOT

Rating: G

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz & Perry the Platypus, Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: fix it fic, rewrite the unmentionable chibiverse episode, the destiel-fication of Perryshmirtz, this is an excuse for me showeing Heinz with love and aftercare.

AN: Many thanks to my lovely, sleepy beta @agentlizardofowca, who sent me the video through discord so it could be the first thing i would see upon waking up so we could both yell at each other about it. They fucking destiel-ed him.

---

"Perry the Platypus!"

There is a brief, but meaningful applause as he descends in appropriately melodramatic way. The stage is well built, and the mic doesn't screech. Perry keeps an eye on the prize, even as he swallows the given pill.

Heinz looks…wary. He did not, at least, have his arms crossed, but over the course of the last few hours Perry notices how he's grown to hunch further into himself, curling into his seat. His brows were deeply furrowed, like he was waiting to be physically hit at any moment, which still might be likely.

The pill goes down smooth as butter. There is a discernible electrical buzz, from his insides. As he coughs, he expects himself to belch smoke. Instead, as he approaches the mic, he speaks with a voice that was his-and-not-his-own.

"Well, hello there!"

Heinz yells in disbelief. Perry blinks.

"Oh, that is weird, hearing you speak,"

It's an even weirder sensation, Perry thinks, to be able have Heinz firmly understand him speak. He grips the edges of the podium tightly, then forcibly relaxes.

"Heinz," he laughs nervously. It still sounds like it came from someone else. "What can I say, about my greatest frenemy? I'd take my hat off to you, but then you'd have no idea who I am,"

A chorus of laughter follows . Heinz harrumphed, briefly looking away to stubbornly insist that he "Doesn't get it." But Perry does not miss the distrustful twitch of his lips.

God he can't do this. Perry takes in a deep breath.

"There are many things you continue to surprise me about, my friend," Perry continues, and he watches in real time as Heinz both blooms and flinches in anticipation of his next words. "But most astonishingly is how you…can twist your mind into such horrible directions."

A confused silence ensues. Someone yells out a demanding "What?" that breaks the man's confused daze.

"Yeah, what?" Asked the man of the hour. "Are you saying I think in a really evil way, or are you just calling me dumb?"

The former, Perry knows, would be a compliment the man sorely needs, but it would not be an accurate one.

Perry isn't interested in playing this stupid game. "Neither. Heinz, look around you. Don't you see?" Perry's mouth pursed tightly. "You are surrounded by friends."

There is a perceptible change in the air, punctuated by muttering and distressed whispering. Perry exhales loudly. "Do you really think all of us genuinely think so lowly of you?"

Heinz scowls, confused. His eyes dart to and fro, but they eventually land back to him. They always do.

"Some friends. I don't have any friends.That's half the point we've been making all day."

"I'm your friend." Perry says, a little desperately, but it isn't about him. "Heinz, you insist that the people you surround yourself with think of you in ways you already think of yourself in that too big brain of yours, that you don't see the affection and respect of the people who like having you around. This event is your idea. Do you think people would have thought about anything cruel we've said if you hadn't said you wanted to hear it? "

" There were plenty of volunteers."

"We're an outgoing group who like to help one another! Heinz, look," Perry scowls back. "I don't agree with everything Darcy said, but she was right about one thing. Your biggest enemy is, and always has been, yourself. You tend to think of yourself as a being a failure, as being hated. But that isn't true."

"Yeah!" Marcy yells helpfully from the crowd, followed by some pointed hushing. She doesn't seem to notice. "I do actually think you're talented, Dr. D!"

"I think you're really fun!" Someone adds.

"You always know when to stop when we ask."

"You really rock a labcoat, too, Dr. D!"

"I actually like your shoulders!"

The auditorium grows loud, as more and more chibis cheerfully add their kind, honest opinions of the man in the throne. It seems to throw him off, and he looks panicked, shocked, and heartbreakingly, astoundingly confused.

"Wait, WAIT! Everybody STOP. You guys were supposed to make fun of me!"

"We can keep making fun of you if you like, Dr. Doof." Star answers happily. " If you want, but it's all in good fun, right?"

"That doesn't mean we don't think you're also really cool, Dr D. " Mabel adds cheerfully. She has her little piglet in her arms, rocking him affectionately back and forth. " I do it with my brother all the time! I still love him to bits and bits."

From behind one camera, Dipper makes an embarrassed sound. He's still smiling, and Mabel comes around to tug him into a hug, sandwiching Waddles in the middle.

"But that-," Heinz began to sputter indignantly. Somewhere far below, there is a grinding, whining noise. Perry frowns. "But you-! But what about-what about-what about my, hey, what about my doctorate, huh? I bought it off the internet for 15 bucks! My teachers hated me! Im not actually a Doctor."

"We both know you never needed one to prove yourself more than capable of breaking the laws of physics on the daily." Perry chirps drily. There is another chorus of laughter for the not-quite-insult. "And I'm the last person to make fun of you for enjoying a spot of alliteration. Hello, Perry the Platypus?"

"Hey!" Heinz shouts, as the crowd continues to giggle. "This is my roast! Get in line!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Perry coughs into his fist, hiding a smile. " Where were we? Ah, yes, embarrassing you."

Heinz harrumphed, slouching back down into his seat in the assumption that the self loathing party was about to continue apace. Perry clears his throat. "Let's talk about how much you love your daughter."

Heinz shoots straight up, hands clenched into the sides of his seat. He looks, for a second, genuinely hurt, and angry. But Perry meets his gaze dead on, and the man eventually unclenches himself enough to speak, taking a deep breath as he looks away. "Fine. Fine. Whatever. There's nothing you're about to say that will make me feel even a little bit ashamed of how much I love my Vanessa."

"Yes, that is quite the pickle, isn't it? You, Heinz Doofenshmirtz," his voice turns soft despite his best efforts, feeling his cheeks burn fondly in reminiscence. "Are one of the strongest, kindest, sweetest parents I have ever had the pleasure to meet in my life."

Heinz blinks, caught off guard once again as the crowd goes "Awww,"

"You are embarassingly loving, you never let yourself forget the things she tells you she enjoys, even if they're gifts she asked for when she was barely a child. You are protective and vindictive of anything that could possibly come to hurt her, and you have never, ever, ever once forgotten to throw her a birthday, even when you've never had a decent one yourself in all your life,"

And finally, finally, Heinz blushes. A tint of red for being pleasantly flustered instead of the ashamed flush from before. The chibis laugh, coo and yell in playful disgust. Perry smiles smugly, pleased for having turned the tide of the event on its head.

From beneath their feet, the rumble grows, and the whining increases in fever pitch. Chibis begin to jump in surprise, the sounds of joy and celebration turning into ones of distress. Quite tellingly, Heinz looks perfectly unbothered, arms crossed petulantly. Perry raises an eyebrow.

There is a distant boom, muffled by a safe wall of dirt. One part of the stands collapses in on itself, and the chibis get off of it hurriedly. There is an ensuing silence.

Perry and Heinz had not, even once, looked away from one another. Perry leans on his elbow on the podium, raising his second eyebrow. Heinz slumps down his seat.

"Fine. I had an inator that was being charged by the negative energy of insults to take over the chibiverse, yada yada yada. It was supposed to be Platypus proof, because I didn't have time to put a self-destruct button. You jammed the energy input and made it explode by calling me nice things, happy?"

"Delirious." Perry answers, as the crowd cheers in celebration, another scheme thwarted, and another day saved.

The crowd climbs the stage in droves, chanting his name. Perry lets them have their fun, though he's not particularly enjoying being thrown into the air and carried over their heads, off the stage, to the backstage buffet.

He slinks off the second he was able to get away with it, to where Heinz was still curled on the throne in the auditorium hall, scribbling into his inventions book. He's not noticed Perry approaching, peeking over his shoulder to see he was already brainstorming his next scheme for molecular chibiverse domination, muttering angrily to himself.

"-tupid to think he actually meant what he was saying, I should've kept my lid on the plan better, hide my blueprints-,"

"I did, you know." Perry interrupts, and Heinz jumped, clutching the notebook close to his chest. "Meant them, I mean."

Heinz sighs gustily, posing like he's meant to retort something clever, but he's not sure what it is, yet. To render Heinz Doofenshmirtz speechless was no easy feat, adding another tally to Perry's accomplishments this day.

Not that he was ever unappreciative of Heinz's chatty nature.

After opening his mouth and closing it a couple more times, the doctor blurts; "I don't think I'll ever get used to that. You, talking, I mean."

Perry shrugs, self-conscious. Heinz adds, hurriedly, "I didn't say I didn't like it."

Perry tilts his head in question.

"I'll get used to it," Heinz assures, a bit shyly. It's making Perry blush too.

The agent shakes his head. " I don't think…, "

Heinz frowns. "You don't like it? "

Perry shrugs. "I don't need it. " He looks down. "I have you. "

He's not looking, so he isn't able to tell what expression Heinz might be wearing in the following silence.

Heinz breaks it eventually. "You keep doing this, you know?"

When Perry looks up, Heinz had donned a poorly executed scowl. It makes him smile. "Reminding me about the good things. Call me nice, I mean. That's not right. It's ruining my street cred."

The idea of Heinz having a street cred makes him laugh, and even if he does not enjoy most of the actual talking for now, this was nice. Laughing together, and being able to communicate, thoroughly and well, what exactly he adored of his best friend, uninhibited of Heinz's own self-esteem issues.

I love you, Perry wants to say, desperately. He wants to say it more than anything in the world, but even with all the communicative technology at his disposal, he is still hesitant, still scared, of putting his vulnerability into words.

Later, he keeps telling himself. Soon. Eventually. He reaches out to hold Heinz's hand in his own, leadened with all the words he can't bring himself to say.

Heinz smiles, and squeezes like he understands him anyway. Like Perry would have all the time in the world.

It can wait.

#chibi perryshmirtz #perryshmirtz #fix it fic #phineas and ferb #heinz doofenshmirtz #perry the platypus #choice of fic

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prince-liest · 6 months

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Yo, I'm writing a pre canon fic in which young fanboy Vox gets assigned as Alastor's assistant by Lilith, any tips for characterising him?

I think you have a lot of room for leeway and playing around since you're working with pre-canon, but the main points that I tend to at least personally keep around as a scaffold for writing Vox are:

He's got a Charisma modifier of, like, +4. This doesn't mean he's always suave - in fact, he's pretty pathetic around Alastor in particular! But he knows how to put on a performance that appeals to his intended audience, whether that be a customer base whose trust he's winning over, or a fellow Vee that he's trying to wrangle into behaving. He switches between ridiculous showmanship and collected CEO, and this works for him despite both personas being rife with overcompensation.

Every single one of the Vees including Vox thinks they're the only normal, reasonably-behaving person in the room, it's wild.

He's smart, he's capable, he's manipulative. He's good at knowing what people want and how to leverage that to sell them those things. The general population thinks he's #goals thanks to the image he puts forth.

He's a piece of shit that has no qualms with Valentino's behavior with Angel Dust, Velvette selling date rape drugs, or abusing his own hypnosis ability to manipulate people into buying his products (which include spyware literally advertised to voyeurs). This is part of the fun of this character!!

I think he has a lot of very fun physicality to him (as do most of the Hazbin Hotel characters), and I really recommend re-watching some of his scenes to get the hang of how he moves and interacts with people physically because you'd be surprised at how much that can add to characterization even in a non-visual format like writing.

...I also genuinely think he's kind of a horny bastard, to whatever extent and rating your story could even use that, but that's me extrapolating from his behavior around both Alastor and Valentino. It's just a fun cherry on top of the "low impulse control around Alastor" thing, because he's got so much going for him on the intelligence front that it's really funny to me when he tangibly switches to thinking with his dick.

And, of course, on the subject of Alastor in particular:

He's obsessive, and Alastor makes all of his impulse control go out the window. I started using the "Vox's One-sided Psychosexual Obsession with Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)" tag for a reason, and it's that I think it's in fact really funny how much evidence we get in canon that Vox doesn't just hate Alastor and want to dominate him, he'd also probably roll right over into the affectionately wheedling persona he uses with Valentino if Alastor suggested he'd take it well.

We don't just see Vox wanting Alastor dead, we also see Alastor telling us that Vox first asked him to join him; the torn-in-half photo of them standing together; and Vox pretty much popping a boner over Alastor getting wrecked by Adam, nevermind how manically he jumps around to get a word in before Alastor even shows his face during Stayed Gone. Even his little "Fu-uu-uuuuuck!" at the end of the song is like 50% actual despair and 50% :pleading: emoji. He wants Alastor, obviously, and I think a lot of the anger that he's projecting at Alastor in canon is specifically anger at being rejected, which is frantically covering up the fact that he is still desperately, embarrassingly into the radio deer. If Alastor won't join him, Vox has to beat him.

Anyway, I love this funky little TV. This was by no means a comprehensive guide or anything like that, but I hope it helped share at least some of my personal thoughts on writing him!

#ask #personal #Anonymous #hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #meta #my writing

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jinxhallows · 1 year

Text

ɪᴄɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ | ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☾ -- ɪᴄɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ

ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ, 𝟷𝟾+, ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴜsᴇ, ғᴏᴏᴅᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴇsᴛᴀʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ

ᴡᴄ: 𝟸.𝟹ᴋ

So I wrote this originally in a discord brainrot with @gdragonsideburns (who ALSO WRITES INCREDIBLE SHIT) because although I am a smooth 30, I'm currently driving this song into an early grave and it made me think of Jackson Wang in the jungle? Do Jackson Wang fics even exist on here? Well, here's one.

"Dearest old man, on this most joyous occasion of your birthday, I bring forth a small token of my affection."

You call out teasingly in an over the top accent, and carefully place the delicate porcelain plate onto the table, adorned with a magnificent gourmet cupcake, a tropical wonder, complete with a sparkler glowing brightly at its center. The chocolate syrup on top of the plate spells out a heartfelt message from the resort staff,

"Happy 29th Birthday, Jackson Wang from China."

His face lights up with an infectious grin as he reads the message out loud.

"Ah, that's definitely me," he exclaims, reaching out to blow the sparkler out like a candle. But to his surprise, it doesn't extinguish. He shakes it slightly and turns to you.

"It burns for twenty-nine seconds, because that's how old you are," you quip with a mischievous glint in your eye.

He looks at you in wonderment, his brows furrowing in confusion. "How do they get it to last exactly twenty-nine seconds?" he asks, genuinely curious.

You chuckle, knowing he's fallen for your playful trick. "They don't," you say, picking up the remaining sparkler and pushing the plate towards him. "You just believe anything I tell you."

He rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now that's a lie. I don't believe 99.9% of what comes out of that pretty mouth of yours." With a cheeky grin, he dips his finger into the icing and taps your nose, before bringing it to his lips to savor the delicious taste.

“Thanks for thinking of me, baby.” he murmurs in a gentle tone, his eyes fixated on the delectable dessert before him.

The soothing sound of the rain pouring down through the dense Amazonian trees provides a tranquil ambiance. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the lush rainforest, with mist creeping up from the warm forest floor. You observe him as he peels off the cupcake paper, sinking his teeth into its side. The coconut shavings crumble onto his exposed tattooed torso. He brushes the crumbs off his skin, just below his navel, where his gray sweatpants meet his briefs, emitting a soft rustling sound. Tilting his head to the side, he takes another bite, letting out a satisfied "mm" at the delectable taste.

He glances over at you, oblivious to how enraptured you had become with his reaction. "Wanna try?" he offers, extending the cupcake towards you. However, you wave your hand, declining the tropical delight.

"I hate coconut flavored stuff," you make a face in distaste.

"Really? Since when? Why didn't I know that?" he queries, taking another bite and shaking his head to brush away the strands of chestnut brown hair from his face.

“Because thankfully, you’ve never fucked up royally enough to get me coconut flavored anything; and I love you all the more for it.” As you rise from your seat, you feel the cool, marble floor beneath the balls of your feet, and make your way over to the Bluetooth speaker. The room is sparsely furnished, and the sound of mellow Afrobeat mixed with R&B piano and the soothing notes of steel pans fills the air.

Suddenly, you feel something cold and flat pressed against your lower back, just above the curve of your hips. You look up at his reflection in the mirror, both of your gazes locking before your eyes fall to the bottle of patron silver he was conveniently using you as a table for; oh but Jackson’s a gentleman, he’s got himself pressed up against your ass, and your ample thighs; he’s keeping you nice and steady while he expertly pours a shot, which he sets down with a satisfying "clink" on the nearby table.

Jackson's second attempt at pouring is a bit messier, causing droplets of the cool liquid to splash against your warm skin, and you slightly jump at the feeling. It was the way the bottom half of your cheeks jiggled from underneath your shorts, however, that earned you a firm grasp and smack as he throws his shot back, relishing in the sight of your body responding to his touch. With a mischievous grin, he leans down to lap up the stray droplets from your lower back as you blissfully sigh from how good he was pressing all your buttons.

“Take your shot, I wanna test somethin’.”

He takes a step back, and you slowly stand up, tossing back the tequila before turning around to face him.

“Hear me out, try chasing with it.” He walks over to the table, and you admire the flexion in his back muscles as he moves. He picks up the cupcake, undeniably sexy as he licks it off his finger. He can tell he’s got you right where he wants you, your eyes never leave him.

“Chasing tequila, with a coconut cupcake? You’re gonna have to show me, ‘cause it’s not sounding too appealing yet.”

“I’m glad you asked, lie down for me sweetheart, let me show you exactly what I mean.”

As you crawl onto the plush mattress, Jackson follows suit, climbing on top of you. The sight of him, flushed from the drinks he had earlier, is enough to make your heart skip a beat. He chuckles at your confusion, but how could you not be confused? He's holding a half-eaten cupcake in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other, straddling your body. But despite the mischievous glint in his eye, you can't help but find him utterly irresistible. In this remote, remarkable place, far away from the rest of the world, he has you all to himself, and he's clearly up to no good.

"Hold this for me," he says, handing over the cupcake. As you take it, he takes a thick swipe of icing from the dessert. He pushes the bottom of your tank top up just enough for the bottom of your breasts to peek out from under the black, scrunched fabric.

"Jackson, what are you--" you start to ask, but he interrupts you as he paints a straight line of icing down the midline of your stomach, stopping right at your navel. His eyes hold your gaze captive as he slips his finger with the remaining icing between your lips.

As you obediently suck on his finger, feeling the curve of his knuckle and the lines dividing his long digit into printed pads, he lets out a satisfied laugh and proudly declares,

"I thought you hated coconut flavored shit?"

You take his finger further into your mouth, coaxing it in with your tongue. Despite your initial reservations, you can't deny the pleasure you feel from this. He pulls his hand away from your oral fixation with a scoff and a smirk. Taking a swig of tequila, he looks down at you like you're his next biggest conquest.

Aries men have a thing for that – a conquest.

He dips his tongue into your navel, licking the sweet trail all the way up to where your shirt is bunched up. You gasp, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking down at him knowingly. "You know exactly what you're doing," you say.

"I'm teaching you how to broaden your palate," he responds smoothly, wasting no time in taking the cupcake back from you and exchanging it with the bottle of tequila instead.

The cool air circling in the room feels extra sensitive on the wet skin of your stomach, and it turns your nipples into erect, sensitive nubs, poking proudly through the thin fabric of your tank. You push yourself up a little more, so you can sit up straight.

You look up at him as he holds the cupcake out for you to take a sample from. You swipe your finger in the thick, buttercream icing, and your eyes dance down his chiseled torso, deciding where you were going to take this experiment.

Your body is trembling with anticipation as you slide your fingers over the waistband of his briefs, feeling the heat radiating from his body. You lean in closer, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of tequila and cupcakes filling your senses. Your tongue traces the trail of soft, delicate hairs leading down from his belly button, savoring the sweet taste of his skin.

You slowly trace a thick line just above his navel, reveling in the way his muscles twitch under your touch. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin flushed and warm from the tequila. You trail the icing down his smooth, taut stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his briefs.

You can't resist the urge to pull them down just a little, just enough to expose the tempting V-line leading down from his abs. With a steady hand, you spread the remaining icing right where you want it. Jackson watches you with dark, intense eyes, his breaths coming in ragged.

Jackson’s eyes flicker with surprise and desire as he helps you by tugging at the sides of his pants, pulling them down even further. The sight of his hardness tenting the front of his sweatpants, the print pushing through the slate grey of his briefs, is almost too much for you to handle. He's always had an aura of mystery and excitement about him, and the way he's looking at you now only adds to his allure.

He sets the cupcake aside and lifts your face up to meet his gaze, you can feel your cheeks heat up under his intense stare. His hand under your chin is firm, holding you steady, but his touch is gentle. You can see the lust in his eyes, but there's also a hint of tenderness there.

"Give me the tequila, baby," he says, his voice low and husky. You hand him the bottle, your fingers brushing against his as you do. His tongue darts out to swipe over his lower lip, and you feel weak in the knees.

With a little squeeze of your chin, he prompts you to open your mouth, and you do so eagerly. You can feel the warmth of his body as he moves in closer, his hips tilted towards you. He's always found you uniquely stunning, in a way that appealed to him on a primal level, and right now, it's as though he can't resist the urge to explore every inch of you.

As you wait, your breath catching in your throat, Jackson's gaze flickers over your face and down to your lips, before he takes a long swig of the tequila first. He swishes it around in his mouth before swallowing, and he pours a stream of it into your open mouth, letting go and allowing you to cringe as you push it down your throat. You quickly stick your tongue out, desperate to get rid of the alcohol taste. You grab his pants, pulling him closer and licking the buttercream trail from his skin. You pull his briefs down, maybe a little too enthusiastically, to get to the rest, and his stiff cock springs out. The head is red, smeared with clear pre-cum that had oozed out while he was toying with you earlier.

As soon as you felt the cool liquor pass your lips, your mouth began to water. You take him in, savoring the feel of him filling your mouth. His substantial length stretches you, and you wrap your lips around him tightly, feeling every ridge and vein as you slide him deeper into your mouth. As your tongue flattens against the bottom of his cock, he hisses at the sensation, his brows knit together in pleasure. His eyes close, and he accidentally holds his breath, lost in the feeling of your mouth on him.

"Damn, babe," he groans, his voice thick with desire. You can feel him growing harder inside your mouth, and you can't resist sliding your hand down to his base, following the thick curve of your lips with every suck. "Keep doing that, God, it feels so good," he pleads, his hips thrusting gently towards your mouth.

He probably shouldn’t, but he takes another shot anyway. He really does want to set the bottle down, but he can’t peel himself from between your pretty lips just yet. The way your intensity climbs as the liquor kicks in, you take his balls gently in your hand, using all the saliva that had pooled as lubrication to massage them.

His moans of pleasure fill the room, each one more intense than the last. With his hand covering his face and his other tightly gripping the tequila bottle, it was clear that he was completely lost in the moment. The air was thick with a heady mix of profanity, grunts, and gasps, all signaling his overwhelming pleasure.

“H-Hold on, hold on—” Jackson somehow finds the inner strength to breathe, to stop you from taking him directly off the edge a lot sooner than he had originally planned. He drops his hand, revealing his handsome face again. He stares at you with a look of utter desire and adoration, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. Beads of sweat drip down his forehead, his hair mussed and sticking to his skin in all the right places. His lips are parted, panting softly as he struggles to regain control of his senses.

His body is a work of art, every muscle defined and chiseled to perfection. The veins in his arms and neck pulse with intensity, a testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. He looks like a god, a vision of pure masculinity and strength.

You can see the raw passion in his eyes, the way they fixate on you with such intensity that it makes your heart skip a beat. It's a look that says he wants you more than anything in the world, and nothing else matters in this moment.

“I wanna fuck you,”

He breathes out, pointing to the oversized window across from the bed.

“In the rainforest.”

☾ -- fin

#jackson wang #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang fic #jackson wang smut #got7 smut #got7 fic #jackson wang fanfic #jackson wang from CHINA #WHY DID I GO FERAL AND WRITE THIS OUT OF NOWHERE #i blame gdragonsideburns

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mingtinys · 2 years

Text

Soggy Cereal

pairing : choi san x gn!reader

college roommates!au , friends to lovers , fluff , valentines day fic !!

warnings : language

word count : 2.8 k

requested ? no

a/n : this was horribly rushed , barely proof read , and i kind of hate the ending , but i do want to post something for valentines !

You really should've just turned off your phone for the day. Maybe then you wouldn't be feeling so bitter. But after being bombarded by post after post of your friends being surprised by their significant others with vibrant bouquets, fancy brunches, expensive jewelry, and fluffy stuffed animals, it's a little hard to not feel so sour. Perhaps it's a bit unfair to hate an entire day, but February fourteenth just sucks, and you're ready for it to be tomorrow.

"What's wrong with you?" San asks, genuine concern gracing his features at the way you've been scowling at your phone for the past hour. You'd nearly forgotten he was even in the room with you. Too caught up wallowing in your own misery to appreciate the bowl of cereal he'd so kindly made you. He digs into his own, spilling milk on the counter in the process.

"Nothing's wrong."

The look on his face tells you that excuse isn't going to do you any justice. He chews as he speaks, pointing his spoon at you from across the kitchen island. "You're a shit liar. You've been glaring at your phone all morning, something’s up."

"It's stupid." Your response is short, clicking off your phone and placing it facedown so you won't be tempted to glance at it any further.

"No, it's not. C'mon, just tell me."

San slips from his spot across the island, bowl in hand as he takes up the stool next to you. "Please," he drawls, putting on the most god-awful puppy eyes you've ever seen him muster up. You've lived with Choi San long enough to know, unfortunately, he's not just going to give up.

". . . I've never had a valentine. And I know it's cheesy but it'd be nice to have someone confess their undying love with some stupid rose bouquet or overzealous box of chocolates. Just once, ya know?" You sink in your seat, elbows propped up on the counter to rest your chin in your hands. You refuse to look at San.

"What do you mean?" San's voice is a little too optimistic for your mood. "We get each other gifts every year!" By his terms, he's not wrong. While the cheap boxes of gimmicky drugstore chocolates are a nice gesture, they're far from romantic. Not that you've ever expected such from San, but it's just not the point.

"No, San, like a real valentine."

He blinks at you for a moment, the frown on his lips only stays for a millisecond. "I'm gonna pretend like you didn't just call me a fake valentine."

"You know what I mean. We only get each other gifts because we're friends and no one else will." You plop down from your stool, sliding your bowl of soggy fruity pebbles over for San to finish. You've always found it weird that he actually prefers his cereal mushy. He'll even wait a good ten minutes after making a bowl before he eats it so it'll absorb as much milk as possible. But as nauseating as you find the mannerism to be, it is quite convenient. It's basically become tradition for him to finish off what you don't eat once the texture becomes too soft.

But it's the first time he's ever declined your leftovers. Instead of immediately polishing off your bowl like usual, he sticks to you like a shadow. San follows you down the narrow hall and to your room, making himself comfortable on your bed while you begin sorting through your closet for your work uniform. "I thought you liked getting each other gifts."

There's a certain dejected undertone to his words that make you pause and rethink how you're wording things. You aren't upset with him. If anything, he makes days like Valentine's significantly more bearable. If it weren't for the small box of chocolates and singular rose waiting outside your door this morning, you'd probably be having a lot bigger crisis over being alone on days like today. But your point still stands, nothing about the gesture is romantically inclined.

Your eyes finally land on your uniform, crumpled up in the laundry basket that sits next to your dresser from the last time you washed clothes yet never put them away. "That didn't come out right," you sigh, watching the way San's frown deepens as you lay the articles on the bed next to him. "I really do appreciate the gesture, San. It's incredibly sweet. I just meant it'd be nice to receive something from someone who likes me more than just platonically."

The last thing you want is for San to feel like you don't appreciate him. In fact, you probably do a little more than a friend or roommate should. "Please tell me you get what I'm saying. It's not you, I promise, I'm just feeling a little . . ." You search for the proper word. "Lonely."

San looks like he's about to say something but pulls his lips into a thin line before any words come out. He thinks, then says "I get it." But the frown is still there. You know he's the one who asked, but there's a bit of guilt that gnaws at your insides for dumping all of this on him so suddenly. So you pad across the room to your desk and pull a small pink gift bag from the bottom drawer in hopes to remedy the sad look on his face. Confusion pulls at his brows when you extend the bag to him.

"I was gonna wait until after work to give this to you, but seeing as how you already gave me mine . . ." His face lights up at the realization. He's quick to snatch the present from your hands, His excitement tugs at the corners of your lips. "And be gentle with the bag, I wanna reuse it for your birthday in a few months."

You're not sure he even hears you, already tossing the tissue paper to the side and digging inside the bag. You'd love to watch his expression as he opens each component of your gift, but you're a few minutes shy of running late to the only thing that pays your half of the rent. So you begin slipping out of your pajamas and into uniform, not caring that San's just a few feet in front of you. You've learned to be pretty comfortable around him, given his bad habit of never knocking and the broken lock on your door that the landlord never got around to fixing. It was cause for him catching you in quite a few awkward situations for the first few months.

Though eventually, as the two of you grew more comfortable with one another, you were both willing to drop your guard around the other. Even to the point of just leaving your door open for him to come and go as he pleases. No one but San can say they've truly seen you at your worst and vice versa. Besides, San doesn't pay you much mind anyways, too engrossed in his gift to notice you changing.

You've just finished pulling your shirt on when you catch him eyeing you with one eyebrow raised. "What?"

He clears his throat theatrically, holding up the glittery pink card you bought for no more than two dollars. "'I think you're out of this world,'" He reads, turning the card to reveal a picture of a cheesy cartoon alien once he's done. "Really?"

"What? It's cute and it was on sale!" You giggle. The smile that breaks his playfully judgemental expression is enough to light the room. "Just keep going, there's more."

San neatly tucks the card back into its envelope. You take a seat beside him, watching while you tie your sneakers. At the bottom of the bag, underneath his favorite candy and snacks, sits a little box wrapped in shiny red paper. He holds it up, looking at you with an expression that reads what is this?

"Open it," you encourage.

He's gentle as he peels back the tape sealing what's inside, mumbling something about being able to use the wrapping paper for your next birthday gift as well.

While what's hidden inside the paper is no surprise to you, anticipation still grips your insides. The last of the paper falls away, revealing a hinged black box with a silver logo that sparks recognition in San's wide eyes. He looks at you, then the box, and to you once more before settling back on the box.

"This is . . ." He starts.

"I hope it's the right one, I went back to get that bracelet you pointed out a few weeks ago when we passed by the antique shop."

San opens the box and inside sits a silver chain bracelet, adorned with a singular little mountain charm. "I can't believe you remembered that," he whispers, delicately lifting the bracelet to examine it further. He then slips it onto his wrist, turning it this way and that to watch how it catches the light.

It was by no means some huge expensive gift, the owner of the old shop was more than happy for it to finally find a new home. But the way San's eyes lit up when he spotted it through the window was enough for you to know it was priceless. Though you knew he likely would never go back to get it for himself, and Valentine's seemed like a good enough excuse to get it for him.

"Thank you, Y/N. Seriously, I love it so much."

"I'm glad," you give him a smile, though it's nothing compared to his. "Now enough sappy shit, I have work soon." You snatch your keys from your bedside table and gesture for him to get up. He stands, though not without a groan of annoyance, "It's so stupid you have to work on a holiday."

"Like I have anything better to do today."

San follows you back out to the kitchen, spotting the long-forgotten remnants of your cereal still sitting on the counter. He lets out a soft "Oh!" and picks it up, taking a heaping spoonful into his mouth. It makes you cringe, the flakes so swelled up and half dissolved from how long it has been sitting there. It might as well be illegal to consume.

"You're seriously disgusting."

"And you're seriously wasteful. Besides I thought you were late, do you really have time to be heckling me?" He glares.

"I am and I’m blaming you." You state, glancing at the time once more.

You're halfway out the door when San calls out for you again. "Text me when you get off, I'll order takeout and we can watch shitty romcoms until you feel better."

While you're not sure watching movies about people finding their true love will necessarily make you feel better, San always does. So you don't think about it much and give quick confirmation before rushing out the front door and down the steps of your building.

To say work was horrible would be an understatement. As if watching your friends post their Valentine's gifts and significant others online wasn't already bad enough, serving table after table of happy couples was worse. Throughout the night, you were constantly subjected to copious amounts of PDA and extravagant confessions of love. Even witnessing a proposal at the end of your shift. Not to mention tonight's dinner rush was particularly bad at tipping.

But the cherry on top came when a customer, in a horrible attempt to impress his date, decided to nitpick at every tiny aspect of your service. Not refilling their wine fast enough, not checking on them enough, not being cheery enough, anything and everything he could think of.

The relentless critiques while being surrounded by the one thing you wished to avoid today stirred up every unresolved emotion from earlier. Turning your tastebuds sour once more. When your shift was up, you drove home as fast as you possibly could, completely forgetting your promise to let San know when you'd be back. The thought didn't even register until you pulled into your apartment's parking lot. That's right, San wanted to watch movies.

There's a part of you that wants to cancel on him. You're so tired and beaten down from the day that you honestly want nothing more than to tuck yourself away in bed and sleep for days. San would understand. He'd be disappointed, but understanding. Just as he always is. But when you open the door, the apology speech you'd been planning to let him down with dies out on the tip of your tongue at the sight before you.

Your usually messy and rather bland apartment is lined wall to wall with twinkling fairy lights. Their soft yellow glow illuminate the otherwise dim room. The scent of warm chocolate lingers in their air, mixing with the cinnamon-scented candle San always keeps lit. It's all very magical, yet confusing. You rack your brain as to why San chose today of all day to decorate.

Dropping your keys and bag by the door you venture further into the space. Peaking around the living room for San, you find the area to be completely vacant. You check the kitchen next, but there's still no sign of your roommate. However, what you do find is quite the arrangement of items set up on the kitchen island.

A bouquet of six tulips sit nicely in an ornate glass vase, vibrant in their color. Next to them, a tray of messily crafted chocolate-covered strawberries. Judging by the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, they're homemade. One of San's university sweatshirts is folded up neatly on the other side of the tulips. The one you've always told him you keep one eye on at all times because the design is your favorite and they sold out before you could get one. In the middle of it all sits a small, fuzzy teddy bear. It’s leaned up against a new box of fruity pebbles with a folded-up note in its lap. The writing on it is messy, but unmistakably spells out your name. You instinctively reach for it, flipping it open to reveal two scraggly sentences surrounded by pink and purple hearts.

"Not to be "mushy," but I am "cereal-sly" in love with you. Be my Valentine?"

"You're not supposed to be home yet!" San's startled voice breaks you from your thoughts. You nearly drop the note at his outburst. "I– did I miss your text? I thought I'd have more time, shit– um . . ." San looks frantically between the array of gifts and you. Then says, very unsure of himself, "Surprise."

For the first time in your life, you are truly at a loss for words. Because it's pretty obvious why San set all of this up, but your brain seems to lag at the thought of it. You feel like you need him to confirm before you can believe any of it. "Is this for me?"

He nods. "I know it's not exactly perfect, but after what you said this morning about not having a Valentine, I just thought . . . Well, I thought now might be a good time to tell you I sort of, kind of, maybe like you. Like a lot."

He gets antsy in your silence.

"And I know you said you wanted roses but everywhere was sold out. So that nice lady next door– you know Mrs. Kim– lent me some tulips she picked from her friend's garden. Oh, and everywhere was also sold out of boxed chocolate, but Yunho had some chocolate chips he let me borrow and I picked up some strawberries from that market down the street—"

It's pretty obvious San doesn't plan on ending his rambling any time soon. Words continue to waterfall from his lips, but they're all lost on you. Too overwhelmed by the thoughtful gesture and all the work he put into it to register the details of his story. You struggle to find the words to properly convey how much San, and all of this, mean to you. So you discard any semblance of a simple thank you from your tongue and instead take the opportunity to do something you've thought about time and time before.

You waste little time in closing the gap between you and San. Note still clutched in your fingers as you throw your arms around his neck and pull his lips in to meet your own. He reacts impressively fast, holding on to your waist and kissing you back eagerly. The rush of warmth that courses through your veins is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It leaves your mind with no thoughts but those of Choi San.

In your opinion, the moment ends too quickly with San pulling back to look at you. But how can you complain when his eyes hold that much love within them? "You didn't have to do all of this," you whisper after a minute.

San just shrugs, letting his thumb graze over the skin of your cheek. "No, but I wanted to.”

"I love you too, ya know?" You refer to his note. "Even if you like gross soggy cereal."

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junkissed · 1 year

Text

the king's gambit: en passant (teaser)

member — seungcheol x f reader teaser genre — angst (kinda), enemies to lovers series genre — smut, angst, fluff, happy ending; one-sided enemies to lovers, mafia boss!cheol, ceo!cheol, sugar daddy!cheol word count — this teaser - 0.7k; full fic - tbd (estimated 25k+) synopsis — Millionaire CEO Choi Seungcheol has never relied on anybody: not his parents, not his friends, no one. The only person that’s gotten him through life is himself and the power his name holds. But even now, with everything he could ever want at his fingertips, his life lacks purpose… until he meets you. teaser warnings — mention of alcohol series warnings — murder, gun violence; poisoning; kidnapping/hostages; mentions of blood; descriptions of sex workers/sexual acts for money; unprotected sex, BDSM elements; mentions of food and alcohol; warnings are subject to change as i continue writing! notes — this is a very short teaser for the 95z collab i'm doing called the king's gambit! there is no completion date for this yet as i'm still working on it (and struggling quite a bit— plot is not my usual thing lol). i've got a solid 13.1k down for now, which is by far the longest i've ever written, and there have been a lot of challenges getting to this point but i'm so excited to give you a little snippet of what's to come! once it's completed i will also be posting this fic on ao3 for readers who find that platform easier to use. i hope you enjoy, and if you do, don't forget to add yourself to the taglist for more updates!!

collab masterlist • taglist form • my ao3

it’s no surprise that seungcheol finds himself back at the casino, making his way over to the bar.

there’s not as many people in the casino at this hour of the morning as there were last night, but even still, most of the machines are full and a few of the blackjack tables are crowded with people eagerly awaiting their turn to waste away all their money.

you scoff when you see him sit down at your end of the bar. “damn, you look rough, mr. choi.” he hates the way his name sounds in your mouth, sarcastic and cruel. he hates that you don’t even know him, yet you already think you have him figured out. “did you have another long and tiring morning of partying?”

he growls under his breath but lets the comment slide, not wanting to do any more fighting today. he’s had enough of it as it is. “if you make me a bone dry martini i’ll give you a thousand dollars, right now.”

“of course, sir. anything for the vip paying customer.”

he sighs, pulling out his phone and setting it on the counter. “if you drop the snarky comments i’ll make it five thousand.”

you pause, the bottle of vodka in your hand. he sounds genuinely exhausted, and you almost feel a little bad for him. you don’t doubt that he has that much to spend, but that much money just for you to stop berating him seems a little extreme. “coming right up,” you say softly, grabbing a glass from the sparkling silver rack. “and you can keep the money.”

you finish pouring the drink and set it on the counter with a cocktail napkin, and he pulls out a thick stack of crisp hundred dollar bills from his wallet. you try to refuse him again, but he slaps the bills down, grabbing your hand and placing it on top of the money so you can’t pull away.

after a second he lets go of you, picking up his drink instead. “i’ll transfer the rest to your account today. go buy something useful.”

you look up at him with wide eyes. “mr. choi, that’s really very generous of you, but i don’t think—”

but cheol interrupts you, sighing again. “just keep it. don’t argue with me. please.”

you study him for a second, noticing for the first time the dark circles under his eyes and the way his hair is mussed like he keeps running his fingers through it. you nod silently, sliding the bills off the counter and pocketing them in your blouse pocket.

cheol’s eyes watch your movements closely, studying you in return. “don’t you have a safer place to hide that? casinos can be a dangerous place.”

you almost want to tell him, what on earth would he know about danger, but you bite your tongue and keep it to yourself. he’s had a long enough day on his own, it seems like; he doesn’t need to hear about all the times you’ve been catcalled and harassed, just inside his own casino. though, even if you did, he doesn’t seem like the type to care.

you shove the cash in your drawer beneath the bar and cheol nods, downing the rest of his drink with surprising ease, considering how strong it is. he sets the now empty cocktail glass down, wincing a little before he slides off of his stool and starts to walk away, leaving without another word.

“wait!”

he stops and turns around, waiting.

you freeze, standing there in silence. you hadn’t expected him to stop. you don’t even know why you’ve stopped him. to ask him if he’s okay? clearly he’s not. to tell him to be… happier? to cheer up? you sigh. this was stupid. “nevermind, i’m sorry. have a nice day, mr. choi.”

he gives you a halfhearted smile and a wave. “yeah. you too.”

you watch him walk away, shoulders hunched and suit wrinkled. you can’t help but be curious about what he’s been up to that’s made him so exhausted, and you begin to wonder if maybe there might be more to this millionaire ceo than you first thought.

> no taglist since this is just a teaser; but, you can join the main taglist here!

> please consider reblogging + leaving feedback! this is the first time i've attempted a longer story like this and it has proven incredibly difficult for me, but knowing you guys are equally as excited for it as i am helps me stay motivated to keep going :)

#[📌] — june.writes #[✏️] — the king's gambit #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #scoups x reader #scoups angst #scoups fluff #scoups fanfic #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol fanfic

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knbposting · 4 months

Text

reposting a meta i did under someone else's post bc people have been asking me to psychoanalyse aomine or kagami and i think nobody saw this one :( anyway @cemetery14 's original post is here!

jumping on for a second to talk about this bc it's so important to me. i'm not trying to mansplain aomine daiki here but his attitude is one of my fav parts of knb so pls excuse me if i say something obvious HSDHSDJH

just as a preface, i spoke about aomine's sense of security in the people he loves HERE, in the context of my aokaga fics. it's mostly hc because it talks about his parents whom we don't get to see in canon, but i'm fairly confident in this analysis to discuss this angle without referencing to that. i founded the parent hcs on how he acts with momoi.

SO. let's discuss aomine's relationships first and foremost. in the series, aomine refers to THREE people by their first names, and he does it exclusively when he feels comfortable and/or friendly with someone enough that they've earnt it. unlike with some of the other characters, he doesn't do it to get a rise out of anyone by assuming familiarity, and he doesn't do it to make fun.

he calls kuroko tetsu when kuroko proves that not only does he love basketball as much as he does, but that he's a good person and someone aomine feels he can trust. even when they fall out, even when aomine believes that kuroko must hate him, and he wants to hate kuroko for his naive view of basketball, he still calls him tetsu. he doesn't waver at all, not around other people, or shouting his name at the top of his lungs from the back of an arena. kuroko is tetsu. it's a badge of honour.

momoi is his childhood best friend and someone he does not believe will ever leave. she is, and has been for over ten years by the time the show starts, satsuki. in my view, he treats momoi as one would a sister, almost, because he treats her honestly pretty badly with no expectation that she's taking him seriously. he's surprised when he makes her cry (like in the rain when she's suggesting he pull out of a competition due to injury), because yeah he's calling her ugly and telling her to fuck off and all of that, but there's an unbreakable bond underlying his meanness that aomine trusts won't break. he shouldn't treat his friends like this, but i'm just trying to come at this from his perspective. he expresses his love for her quietly, but it's there.

as i said in my linked hc post, aomine does not believe that he has to do anything special in order to earn the love of those he trusts. he does not believe that their love is conditional, he does not think that it's linked to his skill or status as a prodigy. for better or for worse, he feels known by these people, and therefore, he's immature about responsibilities and regularly acts up around the people he loves. he ditches people, he shirks chores, and he genuinely does not care about annoying or bothering people.

and now we come to sakurai. aomine and sakurai have a faaascinating dynamic. they're classmates as well as teammates, but i'd love to know how they started talking. neither of them have the kind of personality to just sit next to the other bc they're in basketball club together. sakurai appears skittish, insecure, wet, pathetic, we love you sakurai but you have a reputation. and it's bullshit. sakurai's "drawback", what makes him look weak in the eyes of those around him, is in his need to please others. he takes it bitterly personally when he does something wrong, or he believes he does something wrong, quickly reducing to tears and the classic "i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i don't want to live! i deserve to die!" spiel he usually descends to. but in clutch mode, in his favourite sport, sakurai can be just as arrogant as the rest of touou. he has the confidence to make threes against strong opponents instead of just passing to the prodigal ace. he wants to score points. he isn't interested in proving himself to anyone, he already knows that he's great.

sakurai's actual personality, rather than his perceived one, is probably what draws aomine to him. i can very easily imagine that they're in a game early on, and sakurai looks like he's about to get into trouble with the opposing team who are picking on him a little. but instead of crumbling, he gives them the most disgraceful look of disrespect, and scores an amazing three. it's a moment like that which would make aomine interested, and as he pays more attention, he'd notice other things he also would like. sakurai is kind, he loves basketball, and he is not afraid of aomine. he's not afraid of his skill, however much he is impressed by it, and he doesn't see aomine is someone to prove himself to or compete with. sakurai honestly doesn't seem like he thinks about aomine much at all. which aomine would like. he's also a great cook. again, my idea is that they were eating together, and aomine is looming because he kinda wants to make friends but isn't quite sure yet, and sakurai offers him a little food. you know, like the neighbourhood cat? anyway. once he's had some, he wants to have more, and so, a friendship occurs.

sakurai's food making is one of his more beloved traits in his team, and everyone is comfortable enough with him to snatch and steal etc. like wakamatsu eating all the fucking lemons so aomine wouldn't get any. my fav team. stupid idiots. there are instances were sakurai expresses that he wishes they wouldn't (like the cursed replace novel where aomine eats all sakurai's food he made for the team during a study session to do aomine's homework, without him knowing, and when he discovers an empty fridge, he starts crying and has to be comforted), but overall his protestations are, in my opinion, coming from modesty rather than actual discomfort. sakurai is a strong enough person not to have people walk all over him, he simply doesn't mind being useful to a team he has grown to love and respect.

sakurai is the third person aomine refers to by his first name. sakurai earns this in his basketball skill, he earns it in how he stares fearlessly and disgracefully at nonbelieving opponents. the food definitely helps, but aomine wouldn't have just stolen a stranger's food. he doesn't view sakurai as weak. he doesn't bully him. wakamatsu may think that aomine is bullying him or taking advantage of him, but aomine isn't like that. he doesn't take advantage of the weak, he protects them. like the lady's bag getting snatched. like fighting haizaki when he knew his friends couldn't (not that he thinks they're weak, it's just that their hands were tied). i don't think i've seen him ever take advantage of anyone like that. he certainly takes advantage of friendships as i've mentioned above, but it feels different to me. idk maybe i'm just an aomine excuser at this point. it'll happen again.

for someone who doesn't sincerely smile much, btw, look at how he is in that scene with sakurai:

sakurai: but... this is... aomine: huh? sakurai: sorry, go ahead!

i think this dialogue is less aomine bullying his way into sakurai's bento, and more sakurai realising that the neighbourhood cat is getting more comfortable with him. would he have told him to get lost? probably not. but he doesn't move away when aomine's near, and he isn't flinching or worried about anything bad happening. if anything, his eyes closing when aomine's draped all over him shows, to me, that he's sort of accepting his fate, bc he knows aomine's not gonna do anything but take the good bits of his bento (not a bully. wakamatsu. please calm down). in fact, look at aomine's reaction when wakamatsu tries defending sakurai, whom he believes is getting kinda bullied here:

first, he checks on sakurai. look, he's fine. sakurai cries at everything, he's calm here. he hasn't overstepped any boundaries. but to me, aomine's first words being a reply to wakamatsu's claims that he should be at practise, and not about stealing food, suggests that aomine hasn't actually considered that he could be doing anything wrong enough to rile wakamatsu up this much. it has gotta be about coming to practise. he stops eating sakurai's bento and tries to leave. i think he'd probably be embarrassed by the idea that he could bully anyone. mean as he is, selfish as he is, aomine's good at heart. he'd definitely think his whole team was stupid as fuck if they believed that aomine would bully sakurai, or degrade him in any way. aomine's just showing that he's comfortable with him in the only way he tends to: by being a little shit.

phew! aomine brain dump out of the way. let's discuss haizaki more briefly because haizaki is a lot of fun, but he's not as fun to talk about as aomine.

i think it's a super interesting, deliberate choice to introduce aomine as a nuisance and then haizaki as a nuisance in a similar setting. aomine's food stealing, to me, looks like it's founded on habit and friendship. he doesn't view sakurai as weak and pathetic, and i think already by that point is calling him ryou, so they're solid friends. aomine is a definite loner and doesn't seem to want friends, but ryou is one of them. one of three, as i mentioned, whom he refers to by first name.

haizaki's entrance in the food hall is different because he doesn't have that base level of friendship with kuroko at all. from memory, he calls people by their first names and it makes them uncomfortable. that's likely why he does it. he is big on disrupting the balance of things. i know he hates the generation of miracles, i know he hates team play and friendship dynamics (likely because he finds it difficult to relate to people like that, and to forgive when someone does something that he finds annoying or weak). haizaki does prey on the weak. he's a menace to women walking around at night, he's a menace to kise in their match (his views on kise are super interesting but i don't wanna get into them now, but he does view kise as weak). and he definitely thinks kuroko's weak. it's no surprise that he targets kuroko's plate (this is all from memory so i'm hoping i'm right lmao).

haizaki's food stealing is a power play. look at what i can do, i can take what i want. you can't do shit about it. when called out for it, he says this:

(mido said fuck YOUUUUU aomine) now, i don't think this is actually haizaki believing that aomine is doing it for the same reasons he is. i don't think haizaki gives a shit, and he just sees aomine making a fuss and wants to cause trouble. (side note: aomine's i only take when i'm hungry is so funny. he's saying i'm DYING before i steal from my friends!!! that's so stupid. he's such a pain. but he's never going to say "i only steal from my best friends" because that is crazy talk, this is still aomine, whether he's 12 or whatever.)

murasakibara complains, drawing himself into haizaki's zone of interest, and then haizaki shows he doesn't give a fuck by talking only of the food. i am SURE there are translation issues to be taken into consideration, but haizaki's word choice at face value is: a) your fried chicken looks good too, b) that's mine now. essentially: the fuck are you gonna do about it? he likely doesn't view mura as weak, i think here he's just willing to fight for it. mura plays defence and haizaki loses interest.

haizaki seeks to remind them that he isn't emotionally invested in any of this shit, he just takes what he wants to because he can. it's a power play, and everyone knows it.

the fact that it's aomine putting up a fight about not stealing food is telling to how different they are. it doesn't matter that aomine thinks he only steals when he's hungry so it's alright, if he even does view it like that at all (aomine has a history of talking shit and lying sooo). aomine sets them apart by making it clear that he doesn't have any ulterior motives. haizaki is very quick to announce that he does. he isn't doing it because he has to, he's stealing and being a general menace because he wants to. and he tends to target either those he views as weak, or those he knows will fight him.

i wonder why he didn't take from akashi? i wonder whether it's a testament to nijimura's fighting skills or that haizaki didn't fight back when nijimura beat him up?

anyway. i'm so sorry i wrote an essay on your post. i love this topic obviously and i'm critically insane.

#aomine daiki #aomine #haizaki shougo #haizaki #knb #kuroko's basketball #meta #hcs #HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII i hope i didnt come off as needy when i said no one saw it IHDSJDHS i meant that i posted it at #shit o'clock and felt too embarrassed to rb it to show anyone againg djshdsjhdjh #long post #i love characters who are mean because they usually have reasons for it #i actually like haizaki too i think he's fun #but i wouldnt go into his tag. do you get it #like full respect to you if you find this in the haizaki tag but im not brave enough #i dont WANT to know the fandom opinion of him #i could not face the reader x fics either i think JSDHJHSDJ

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sgtmickeyslaughter · 1 month

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✨Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Thanks for tagging me @jrooc @doshiart and @thepupperino

Name and A03 handle: Gigi 🌸, aka sgtmickeyslaughter

Current Location: Coffee shop in the heart of brooklyn

Favorite picrew (don't have one? you can skip this or do this one)?

This one! If i had to draw myself it would look a lot like this

What's one thing you want in a picrew? Rosier cheeks and statement piece noses

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? It's so hard to pick a favorite fic! (Weirdly though, I can pick a least favorite) I think my favorite is going to be my current WIP. And this art!

Why is it your favourite? Because its the most emotionally complex and cohesive!

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? A labor of love is never in vain, I've always loved getting tiny knots out of necklaces etc. just digging in and understanding the knot to resolve it, that's how writing feels for me, the hard parts are fun and it makes them easier idk if that makes sense

Last ao3 fic you commented on? finished and commented on @roryonic's Highway of Hedonism this morning! I'm trying really really hard to comment more

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? Listen, I've been in this game for 10 years across fandoms and I realized early on that I am not willing to put myself through WIP heartbreak so i almost exclusively read completed works. no hate, im just sensitive

Favorite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? I just love fics that really embrace how insane they are about being soulmates, both in a big way and in a bunch of tiny funny ways

Least favourite? Idk, theres probably a lot of specific things but it just boils down to is the vibe is off or they're too ooc, also galladads sorry

Secret or surprising kink or trope? genuinely cant think of anything secret or surprising

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? Like I ran a marathon or deep cleaned an entire house, also like winona ryder it the last scene of the heathers, accomplishment, satisfaction and pride but tired

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: No one specific, writing is a very solitary process for me I guess. Everyone on the discord server who sprints with me helps a lot! I've been thinking about asking if anyone would be willing to beta read for me

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Read bite sized headcanons! Little bites of fics that will just give me dopamine boosts! Also throwing myself in to writing for a little always makes me feel better

tagging:

@mmmichyyy @energievie @lingy910y @spookygingerr

@blue-disco-lights @mybrainismelted @catgrassplantdad @iansw0rld

@ian-galagher @stocious @burninface @heymrspatel

@solitarycreaturesthey @mickeym4ndy @gallawitchxx @atthedugouts

@suzy-queued @creepkinginc @takeyourpillsbitchh @iandarling

#sgt says #tag game

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kalcium-yippee · 4 months

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'Fuck you' Bouquet - a speed written sbg fic based on this post I saw

(I wrote this when I reposted that but I want it to have a standalone post)

"LOGAN. Logan." Tyler panted as he slammed open the Fields Botany center. Logan was leaning his head on his hand on the counter before being startled to attention. "Ah- uhm, what, what is it!?" Logan went on nervously, thinking someone had gotten into danger.

"I...I need a bouquet..." Tyler panted out, leaning against the doorframe. He walked up the counter after catching his breath. "A bouquet? Uhm...for who?" Logan was a little surprised. Was this for someone he was gonna ask out? He didn't want to pry, so he just agreed skeptically, "s-sure. Why not...uhm, any idea of what you want in it? I, uh, I've been told I'm pretty good with arranging bouquets that 'send a message'...by my grandparents! I..uh I don't think I'm *that* good but y'know..." He trailed off, not wanting to brag, just show that he is qualified, but he felt too nervous to continue.

"Perfect! I need to send a very obvious and explicit message. You can help with that?" Tyler leaned on the shop counter. "Uh...yes?"

"Excellent."

"So...what's the message we need sent?" Logan inquired looking through the nearby flowers. "Well, I really need something that screams 'you are useless and stupid and I hate you', you think you can put something like that together? A real 'fuck you' bouquet." Tyler asked genuinely. Logan was a little stumped for a moment. 'So not for asking someone out...got it. Well then again this *is* Tyler so who knows' Logan rambled in his brain before answering, "...sure?". Logan scanned the shop for anything that could help him out. He came back to the counter with some foxglove, geraniums, orange lilies, meadowsweet, yellow carnations, and a few filler flowers. "This should...yea this should do the trick". Logan grabbed some string and with Tyler's input created a beautiful clutch of flowers that screamed 'fuck you'.

"It's perfect! Thanks! How much do I owe ya?" Tyler asked rummaging through his wallet for cash. "Oh uhm...I'll just charge you 20$ don't worry about it." Logan replied before hesitating to ask, "i-if you don't mind me asking...who are these for?"

Tyler paused. "Oh, well it's my early Birthday gift for Aiden." He replied dead pan, not a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Of...of course it is" Logan chucked before handing Tyler his 'fuck you' bouquet.

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hoxooster · 6 months

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On the DesBea situation:

I would've added my thoughts to the original post, but as I am not a part of their Discord server, I didn't think that that was any bit appropriate. However, I wanted to share some of my own personal experiences with her, so that y'all can see that her behavior in their server is a continuing pattern--I don't have pictures of what she said as proof, sadly, but I will explain why.

I'm also gonna slap this under a Read More. I apologize for its length, but the original callout post should be enough of an explanation as to why this post needs to be as long as it is.

And, as a quick aside, if any of you wish to completely block DesBea, NOT HARASS HER OR FEED INTO HER BEHAVIOR IN ANY WAY, be aware that her usernames are:

commence-screaming

des-paa-cee-toeee

pd3thoughts

If any of you know of any more, please tell me, and I will update this post. I don't want to be around her anymore than most people who've also interacted with her do.

About 2 years ago, I was invited to lilspacewolfie's server, Red's Ramblers, and I very quickly became a moderator there. Over time some people joined and a few left, but Ramblers remained stable through it all. DesBea joined later on into the server's lifespan, was around for awhile, said some nasty things, was given a warning (in the general), and just left without saying anything one day. After reading the screenshots in the callout post, I'm actually quite surprised by how much of a fit she threw in her efforts to make you guys apologize to her. Much like in the original post, with her gone from the server, things improved for everyone else, but the whole ordeal was rather confusing for all of us, in the aftermath.

See, DesBea was trying to be just as harmful in Ramblers, but it never really went anywhere.

Her hateful and self-pitying tendencies were the same around us as it was in their server. She really loved to talk shit about Yadoking and her writing--she would do this both in passing on random posts in the server, and while some of us were in-call when we'd play Payday 2 together as a group. It never smacked of genuine criticism for Yado's writing ability or style, as she only ever used childish language when doing it, and she would always do it right before she would try to push her own ideas and fics onto any of us who were online at the time. She was even trying to bully lilspacewolfie--which I will go more into later--over the tiniest of things. DesBea, in all of her posts, was either pushing someone else down, trying to make us all read about her rather disturbing fic ideas or headcanons, or trying to make herself look like the victim by claiming that she 'had bad experiences with abuse in the past' and that her 'PTSD was triggered over something someone in Ramblers had said' when we were trying to halt her bullshit.

It was all very aggravating to deal with, to say the least, but it also didn't have very much staying power, since most of us were just ignoring her in the server. And I do mean that, as most of the users in the Ramblers Discord server refused to interact with her posts over time, and people usually ignored her whenever she tried to insert herself into their conversations. It's probably why she left without much of a fight when lilspacewolfie posted "If you're being an asshole in this server, you better stop that shit right now" in the general chat. (That's not what she said, but y'all get the jist.)

Now, as for her bullying behavior in the server, I can't say for certain if she was targeting anyone besides lilspacewolfie (and badmouthing Yado from time to time, who wasn't even in the server), as I'm not a very outgoing or talkative individual. Despite the length of this post, I'm naturally quite taciturn, and even though I was a moderator in Ramblers, nobody in the server ever messaged me about any issues that they were having with anyone. But, I can say with accuracy that DesBea would go out of her way to harass lilspacewolfie--the creator and owner of the Red's Ramblers Discord server. Whenever she would join calls while we were playing together (but she was just watching from the server), she would only ever type in the voice chat channel, where she would wax poetic about her own fics and get rather offended that 'lilspacewolfie was intentionally ignoring her'. If we were playing a game of Payday 2 with her, DesBea would intentionally follow lilspacewolfie around as a character that she didn't particularly care for and spam callouts to scare and irritate her. And, when another user in the server was having an issue that caused them a lot of distress and made them go quiet for awhile (which had nothing to do with anyone or anything in Ramblers, when they were asked about it), DesBea tried to blame lilspacewolfie for it based on a lighthearted joke that she had made that dogged on Houston. So, not only was she trying to harass lilspacewolfie, but she was actively trying to turn others in the server against the owner of the Discord, as if she could muscle her out by making her out to be a villain.

Over a joke about a FICTIONAL character.

Because she started insinuating that lilspacewolfie had caused another user to 'go into a depressive spiral, and chased them away from the server with her insensitive comments about Houston', I got involved to shut that shit down. DesBea was always weirdly attached to me, because she had DM'd me a few times on Tumblr in the past. I can only guess that she thought that these few smatterings of messages made me her friend, and since, apparently, some people here think of me as being "Mr. John Payday", she figured that she could use me as an intimidating wall to hide behind whenever she was called out on her bullshit.

She was wrong.

After a while of still trying to get others in the server to hate lilspacewolfie for 'being mean to one of the other users in the server'--who ended up coming back once their mental health had improved, by the way--she finally left after the "Stop being a dick" post, and it took us a couple days to notice. So, all-in-all, it was a very weird and irritating experience, but, in this context, it shows a worrying trend of behavior that she ended up spreading to other servers.

Now, like I kind of glossed over earlier, I WAS a moderator in Red's Ramblers. (I ended up leaving the server last month due to personal reasons that're not germane to this situation, and I have no desire to talk about it on this forum.) As I was still a mod before I left, I took the time to delete every post and reaction made by people who were no longer in the server--this amounted to 7 people, DesBea included. So, all of her posts that I could've screencapped as evidence are gone, and even if they were still there, I wouldn't have access to them anymore, anyway. In fact, the only thing that I have left is this picture I took of my response to her whole "You're a bad person for hating Houston" spiel that she was going on and on about:

(I censored this to give some privacy to the person who DesBea tried to use as a cudgel to smack lilspacewolfie with blame for their condition at the time. Even though most people here probably won't recognize them from their in-server nickname, I didn't want to take any chances.)

But, anyway, as you have read from the callout post and these personal anecdotes that I have provided, her behavior in their server was an unsurprising, but also a very worrying trend that has effected at least 2 Discord servers and a good chunk of some of the people who were or still are in the Payday fandom.

If anything that y'all have read over these posts has angered any of y'all to the point of harassing her, PLEASE DON'T. Don't send her hate--anonymously or not. Don't engage with her. Just block her and make sure that others in the fandom are aware of her behavior, so they can avoid her if they wish to as well.

And, again, please tell me if she's operating under any usernames other than the ones I've listed. I was tired of her bullshit a long time ago, and I have no desire to entertain her further under yet another pseudonym.

#PAYDAY 2 #PD2 #PAYDAY 3 #PD3 #fandom drama #long post warning

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idiotsonlyevent · 4 months

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One day I'm going to write a fic about half foots and gender on the premise that chilchuck and his wife actually tried very hard to raise their daughters separate from the worst of half foot gender roles while still falling victim to those gender roles themselves, leading to the eventual collapse of their relationship wherein chilchuck is Emotionally Repressed but also due to being the family breadwinner has a fairly full life, which starts especially conflicting with chilwife once the kids are moved out because her life is now notably emptier and she's not really sure how to fill that space. But instead of directly stating this it ends up being articulated as like... extra fussing and worrying about chilchuck (because gender is a bitch and Proper Womanhood is frankly just a different mode of emotional repression), which he brushes off because like, he's fine? Both in the repressed way but also like. Genuinely he's doing pretty alright.

Which is why she leaves after meeting his coworkers. It's like that last straw of "my husband is out here having a Life and I have what? A house thats empty most of the time?" And from her perspective he's rebuffed her attempts to reach out, and she's played this role of wife and mother for so long now she doesn't actually know how to exist and communicate outside of it so she just... leaves.

Anyways. Sorry this is long I have a lot of thoughts on that gender flipped chilchuck image and the implications it has on gender roles for half foots. And also on the narrative framing of chilchuck admitting he doesn't know Why his wife left, implying that its the truth. And also that meijack is, as far as I have seen, the only female half foot not seen wearing a dress. And how we never see a female half foot in the dungeon.

(God fuck I'm still not done, I've gotta be clear that when I say chilchuck and his wife tried to raise the girls outside gender roles, that's not even in some like... chilchuck feminist moment way. It's in a "I think its narratively tasty if chilchuck and his older brother become the household breadwinners after their dad dies, and for chilchuck to not have thoughts about this until he has three daughters and suddenly he's realizing he doesn't want them to be dependent on their husbands or sons or uncles when he dies" kind of way)

YOU!!!!!!!!! YOU UNDERSTAND ME!!!!!! YES YES YES!!!!!!!!! this ask...

"[chilchuck's] fine? Both in the repressed way but also like. Genuinely he's doing pretty alright." THISSSSS!!! this is exactly why i've started/scaffolded multiple chilfics, but havent gotten around to actually writing/finishing them; because i think he has so many hangups abt how he's been infantilized and dehumanized and used.... and his wife left him without SAYING ANYTHING and WE KNOW he's torn up as Fuck about it!!!!! there's a very real chance he feels really isolated and lonely, especially because he feels like he can't talk about it, and i dont even think he realizes!

like, i wouldn't be surprised if part of why he hates being 'treated like a kid' is because he doesn't want people 'taking care of him' - maybe because its 'his job' as the 'head of household ('oldest' in the party, in a sense); maybe because his wife used to take care of him and she left him so was it too much? was he too much work? maybe he feels like he doesn't deserve it? i wouldn't be surprised if he drinks not just to loosen up, but because it makes it easier to 'not think about it.'

like i don't think he's 'actually ok' but it's pretty well-concealed under a veneer of competence and stability that i... have no idea how to write that? like, yeah there's the drinking and the pushing people away. but also i think he's the type to drop some shit like 'i don't believe in romance because i'm unlovable' out of nowhere after being provoked/pissed off, and everyone's like '!?!;??!! HUH?!' like it's infiltrated his thinking in ways that he thinks is normal.... he doesn't even realize that his one massive blind spot is himself!

sorry THIS got long 😭 you 🤝 me > forever thinking about how passively important(?) gender is in dungeon meshi.... how, even though its unstated, different cultural expectations and associations w gender and genedered traits affect all of the characters in different ways.... getting a phd in dunmeshi-verse gender studies, brb 🫡

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johnslittlespoon · 3 months

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also little (ok not so little. at all) personal thing as a way of mass–apologizing in advance to friends/moots for being slow with replies/not super interactive for a bit (possibly? always hard to predict) but pls god feel free to ignore this <3

i hate talking ab not–fun personal stuff on here (if it's not hidden deep in tags LOL), but i feel so so guilty for being so slow at replying to messages here/on discord and i would never want any friends to feel ignored or like i'm not enthusiastic to chat bc i genuinely have the most fun yapping together in the wota server and it's been such a joy making more friends here and getting closer with some ppl 🥺 it's just eating me up even tho ik i don't have to apologize/explain myself and i'd never hold it against someone else if the roles were flipped!! it's just to put my mind at ease so i can feel less guilt/pressure :')) and i am Uncomfortable talking about bleh emotions so it's easier to just plop it here and not have to explain myself one on one lmaoo tbf i may delete this in a few hrs bc just typing this up might give my brain some relief anyway and then i won't feel like this is necessary!

but sam lore the quick of it is i have # bipolar and i've been in an originally manic, then hypomanic episode essentially since around the time i started this account? it's the longest 'up' episode i've had but it's also the first one i've been off bp meds for so that might be why (long story dw i see my dr monthly <3 sorting life out rn) and i think starting stimulants back in may prolonged it a bit bc yk. meth LMAO but it finally petered off a few weeks ago and now i am entering the Big D (and not the fun kind) so some days i just do not have any energy for anything other than survival mode and when i'm suddenly super chatty or active, 99% of the time it's bc i just took my adhd meds and downed an iced coffee lmaoo genuinely so grateful i have those meds to keep me from fully sinking deep into a bad episode for now at least. so tldr; not trying to be antisocial or ignore anyone, just tryina truck thru :-)

i'm so thankful for all the cool ass friends i've met thru mota and i have been rly scared since i felt myself swinging to the other side of the bp spectrum last month bc i've been very up since i joined tumblr and i don't want a sudden change in vibes to be taken personally or for it to seem like i've lost interest in fandom!! i also get scared i'll just be dull and boring to friends now who have only known me while i'm manic which is understandable bc it's a big switch up but i think over text it shouldn't be as jarring bc yk i have time to think ab my words more and all. i am a little surprised actually that if anything, my motivation for writing has only intensified in the past month, but i think it's the first time i've had a healthy form of escapism in an episode and my brain has definitely latched onto it to get me thru that and a lot of shit stuff that's been happening irl this summer, so i'm unbelievably thankful that this fandom dragged me back into fic writing as hard as it did <3

but as sometimes happens with depression as i'm sure most of us have experienced, motivation/energy loss can hit even our biggest passions and i'm Terrified and hoping so very hard that it doesn't, but if fic updates do abruptly slow down as i ride this episode out, that's likely the reason. can't see myself losing interest in mota anytime soon but ik that if someone's usual writing pace suddenly slows down, ppl often jump to that conclusion (myself included lol) and i just want to make it clear i will Not be abandoning my fics and as of now, i'm still plowing ahead on all of them. AND THAT'S ALL FR BACK TO MY GOOGLE DOCS fuck do i think this is a journal?? jesus christ my bad

#johnslittlespoon yaps #tldr: writing good. bipolar bad. love/thankful for friends and me being less talkative is not a reflection our friendship <33 #legit feel GROSS talking about anything personal (not the fun type of personal) but i wake up feeling guilty ab this every day #and then that can lead me to isolate/avoid + just not try to keep friendships going at all. so forcing myself to get this out of my system #ok that's all back to the good gay shit i have Drafts to post from my notes app lol i've just been too drained <3

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