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seireiteihellbutterfly · 2 months

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Would you consider a request for teenage Suguru and Reader having meet-cutes when he attends missions? She's an amateur photographer who can see Curses, and is desperately trying to catch one on camera. He keeps finding her in dangerous places, but she's really persistent with it, even when he's telling her off 💀😶‍🌫️

Snapshots and Sorcery

A/N: Hi anon! Sorry this took so long. Thank you for such a cute and unique idea! I had fun writing this fic. Also I know that in JJK, Nanami specifically says cursed spirits don't show up in photos but let's ignore that and have this be minorly au-ish. Pairing: Teen! Suguru x Fem!Reader Warnings: None! Cute and fluffy. Word Count: 3.8k

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The first time Suguru laid eyes on you, it was at a run-down museum that had shuttered closed years ago. The museum was already doing poorly long before it closed, unable to bring in enough revenue, until the bank had seized its assets, and the poor curator had hung himself from the neck of the apatosaurus model in the dinosaur wing.

It was rumored the apatosaurus was haunted, roaring and coming to life at night, thrashing around, and reducing the other exhibits to pieces. Sometimes, the occasional high school student would drop by and peek in through the windows on a dare, then hearing the eerie noises coming from inside the building, make a break for it. The ones that stayed too long were never seen again.

This is why Geto is here now, creeping stealthily through the museum, the eerie look of the shattered exhibits casting distorted shadows across the length of the corridors as he surveyed for the cause. Although he had been told the curse would most likely be haunting the dinosaur wing, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of another presence nearby, emanating a tinge of cursed energy, but not enough for him to believe it could cause him harm. Just as he’d entered the museum, he’d seen a quick flash of silver making a dash towards the back of the atrium towards the birds exhibit.

The displays looked uncanny, the taxidermied birds all out of place inside the glass displays, the ones that remained intact staring at him with unseeing, glassy eyes. It was unsettling, then as he rounded a corner, he saw another flash and breaks into a run. The sound of frantic footsteps fills his ears. Worried about losing his quarry, he quickly summons one of his curses, the manta ray one, and lets it loose, the creature quickly flying down the corridor. A shriek followed by muffled shouting fills the narrow space as Geto hurries to catch up.

Whatever it was got caught under the curse, wriggling like a mouse beneath a carpet. Cautiously, Geto calls off the curse and is surprised to see a human underneath. Defiantly, you lift your face to him, ready to fight to the death. For a second, your appearance throws Geto off—a beautiful face, followed by a lovely, feminine body.

“You’re not a curse.”

You scoff, fixing sharp eyes on him. “Well aren’t you a genius?” you ask sourly, sizing him up. Despite your irritation, you can’t help but notice the appeal of your assailant, the tall, broad youth with his hair up in a bun. Amethyst eyes focus on you and he seems temporarily at a loss of what to do next.

“What are you doing here?” Geto demands, acutely aware of how this could throw off his mission. No one had mentioned a civilian being present. You scowl and cross your arms over your chest, and that’s when he notices a strap dangling from your arm, and hanging from it, the source of the flashes of silver he’d been seeing; a fancy-looking point-and-shoot camera.

“None of your business,” you say stubbornly and Geto scoffs.

“It is my business if you’re going to cause trouble for me. What’re you carrying that around for anyway?” He gestures to the camera.

“Creepy, allegedly-haunted museum. Thought it would make for a good art study.” Your words were too crafted and came too easily, an evasive quality to them.

“Oh, right, and I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” Geto carefully studies you. Just enough cursed energy, but not enough to be a sorcerer.

“Well, why are you here?” You shoot his question back to him. “And what kinda uniform is that? I’ve never seen a student wearing that uniform around here before.”

Geto is about to reply, but he’s cut off as he senses a rapid movement of energy coming from the opposite side of the building. Whatever the curse was, it appeared to have scented him, and he had no time to waste chit-chatting.

“Look, I have something to take care of,” he says, urgency creeping into his voice. “If you know what’s good for you, please get out of the museum.”

“Why? It’s a free country. I can-” You stop as an unnatural, hair-raising shriek is heard, echoing from the opposite end of the bird exhibit. You shoot a look at Geto and both of you go tearing off in the opposite direction.

“I’m Geto Suguru,” he says as you both run, hearing heavy footsteps chasing after them. You manage to give him your name as both of you hurtle out of the birds wing and turn into the entomology section. The curse, thrown temporarily off track, pauses and goes in another direction.

“Look,” Geto says in a whisper, “You need to get out of here. It’s dangerous. I-”

“Then why are you staying? Isn’t it dangerous for you too?” Geto looks at you curiously and something in his brain clicks.

“You can see them, can’t you?” He asks, and for a moment, you’re startled, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Yes,” you admit after a beat. “Oh, God! Finally! Someone who can see them too!”

“What’s with the camera?”

“No one believes me when I tell them there are…things. So I was trying to catch one on film.”

Geto looks disbelievingly at you, then shakes his head. “Trust me, it’s not worth your life trying to get a picture of a curse. Now please get out of here so that I can exorcise it.”

“Exorcise? What are you, some sort of priest?”

“A sorcerer,” he admits.

“But this might be my only chance, I-”

“Trust me, it won’t be. There are curses everywhere. But this one is particularly powerful and nasty. Better luck with something less vicious.”

“But I-” You gasp as the curse suddenly makes an appearance, crashing through another entrance at the far end of the exhibit. It was truly grotesque, like a decaying dinosaur carcass come to life, with no skin on its body, eyes red and wild.

Geto immediately springs into action, calling forth another curse from his arsenal. You can’t tear your eyes away from the scene, your heart hammering in your chest as the handsome youth you had known for all of five minutes goes charging into the fray. The most strange and curious creatures came forth as he summoned them, a small agile human compared to the monstrous dinosaur he was fighting. You attempted to take a picture but with all the movement, each shot was blurred.

You’re praying nothing happens to Geto, then finally, 2 of his curses distract the dinosaur long enough for him to begin the exorcism. With a roar that shook the whole museum, Geto begins to suck the curse into his palm. You watch in wide-eyed fascination, the camera forgotten in your hands as the behemoth swirls into black mist, then becomes encapsulated into a black sphere contained neatly in Geto’s palm. Silence falls through the room, and with a shaky breath, you approach Geto.

“That was pretty neat,” you say, trying not to tremble. Geto looks at you, then at the orb sitting in his palm like a huge black pearl.

“Look,” he says sympathetically. “I can understand why you want to photograph a curse. But I’m also telling you it’s dangerous and you could get hurt. You could even die. Haven’t the reports of the missing high school students scared you enough to not want to see one ever?”

You shake your head no. “That’s not going to stop me. I need to prove I’m not crazy. Everyone thinks I’m a freak.”

“I know you’re not crazy. Isn’t that enough?” When you remain silent, he huffs in frustration. “Look, I know it sounds bleak, but trust me. It’s better to live knowing there’s someone who believes you, than dying trying to prove to everyone else that doesn’t.”

He pats your shoulder, a friendly gesture no doubt, but it sends a current of heat through your body, making you blush. You hoped the lack of lighting in the museum would hide your reaction to him.

The both of you walk together towards the entrance in silence, your heart hammering as you get outside and you see his face in the light. A handsome face, clearly on the brink of manhood, looks down at you with a stern expression.

“Well. Take care of yourself. And no more chasing curses. I hope we don’t meet again. At least, not under such grim circumstances.”

Before you could respond, he was walking away, vanishing into the night.

The days that follow are spent combing through the camera, but all photos of the curse were a waste, too blurry to be salvaged. However, there were several of Geto, and you can’t stop from poring over his face, remembering the way he’d moved and quickly contained the curse, effectively saving your life in the process. You hated to admit it, but you were smitten with him.

He had called himself a sorcerer. You wished you had asked for his phone number before he’d vanished. Partly because you wanted to ask him more questions, but also because you’d never had someone in your life who you could talk to about curses, as he’d called them. He knew you weren’t crazy. That thought gave you so much hope, that there was someone who believed you, who saw the terrible things you saw.

It had taken months for you to work out the curse’s location in the museum. You wondered if you managed to find another one…would he be there?

With that, you start an internet search, looking up haunted locale and areas reporting missing people within Tokyo.

»•» 📷 «•« “Not you again!”

Geto lets out an exasperated sigh as he sees you lingering near the entrance of an old, ruined temple, tucked away in an isolated, mountainous region outside of the city.

You grin, trying not to let on how eager you are to see him, almost skipping over to him as he rolls his eyes. Admittedly, it had been a chance to go to this location, but you couldn’t be more pleased that your guess was correct.

“You have a death wish, don’t you?”

“So do you if you work as a sorcerer,” you bite back, now next to him. Your trusted camera hangs from your arm and he groans at the sight.

“You still haven’t given up the idea of catching one of these things on camera?” he asks, irritated.

“Nope! And I figured, with a sorcerer by my side, I might actually capture a picture, and leave the place alive.”

Geto rolls his eyes at your persistence. “You are not following me in there.”

“Oh please. Like that’ll stop me.”

“This curse is too dangerous.”

“Do you just say that for all the curses you handle?” you ask in a bored tone.

“No. You just happen to be at places where the really dangerous ones nest. Are you like a magnet or something? Just…pulled in even against better judgment?”

“Then what does that make you?”

The defiant way you say it makes him snort. “I’m not here out of morbid fascination. I’m here because this is my job.”

He says the words with a touch of finality and turns to walk into the temple, then yells out in dismay as you run past him. He catches up to you quickly, grabbing hold of your wrist and making your heart pound in your chest which had nothing to do with the exertion from running.

“Don’t make me drag you out of here. I’ll place one of my curses near the entrance to watch you so that you can’t get in.”

When you continue to pout he sighs. “You really want a picture huh?”

You nod enthusiastically. “I really do.”

And I want to see you again.

The words form in your mind, unbidden. “Isn’t there any way you can tell me if a curse is dangerous or not? All I want is the one picture.”

“And you’d stop putting yourself in danger?”

“Yes! Promise!”

Geto tsks impatiently, wanting to finish his mission as quickly as possible, then relents as you continue looking at him like a puppy.

“Fine,” he says indignantly pulling his mobile phone from his pocket. “What’s your number?”

You blink. “You’re asking for my number?” You try not to sound breathless.

“Yes.” There’s a bite of impatience in his voice. “C’mon, hurry up I haven’t got all day.”

You quickly recite your number, and he saves it, sending you a text to confirm. Your face is a little too pink when you get his text, but you look at him neutrally as he heads inside.

“Please don’t follow me,” he says and there is a tinge of concern in his voice.

“Scout’s honor,” you say, striking the gesture with your fingers, and he throws you a glance over his shoulder that could’ve suggested amusement before being swallowed by the temple entrance.

Almost a month passes by before you see him again.

Geto was always busy and away on some mission or another. The last few curses had all been classified as a grade 2 or higher, so you hadn’t had an opportunity to take a picture just yet.

However, of late, he’d been texting you after getting back to his dorm room from missions, asking about your day and how you were doing. Used to being the weird girl, isolated, misunderstood, because you could see cursed spirits, you had never experienced this kind of amity before. You’d text him late into the night, waiting up for him sometimes until he texted first.

One night, you were restless. It had been weeks since you last saw him, and when he texted you, confirming he was back in the city, you boldly asked if he wanted to go into the shopping district with you. You didn’t need anything, but there was a weird emptiness inside you, a need to see him again, to convince yourself he was real, this person who finally understood the frustration you’d experienced your whole life. He was sympathetic to you, telling you that this was a classic age-old problem between sorcerers and regular humans.

“We’re kind of like the trash cans of society,” he says jokingly, sipping his milk tea as the both of you wandered through the streets, waiting at the signal light to cross. “We get rid of all the garbage that festers from normal humans, yet people always turn up their noses at us.”

You listen to him in fascination, quietly sipping your own tea. “I wish I could be a student at your high school,” you murmur. Geto’s expression changes slightly, as though he’s weighing what he should say next. The bright lights of the shopping district float around you as wait for his next words.

“I understand why you’d feel that way. But trust me you don’t.”

“Trust me I do. At least no one will think I’m the weird girl. No one will doubt me if I say I see something, because you can see it too.”

“Yes, but it’s also mission after mission. Death. Risking your life. You saw what happened at the museum.”

“But your life is so cool! You said you can control the curses you absorb right?” You falter at the look on his face, displeasure falling over it like a veil.

“Do you know how I absorb those curses?” he asks quietly, all traces of geniality disappearing from his voice. The unexpected harshness catches you off guard. Swallowing, you venture a guess.

“You put them into those spheres right?”

“That’s to contain them. Do you know what happens after that?” Geto looks like his milk tea was suddenly replaced by sludge. You meekly shake your head no, his demeanor starting to frighten you a little bit. “I swallow them. I literally eat them. Do you know what it’s like, eating a cursed spirit?” He pushes on, not bothered to hear your response.

“It tastes like a rag that’s been used to wipe up shit and vomit. And I do this over and over again because it’s what’s expected of me. I’ve never been allowed to make a choice that doesn’t surround jujutsu. I can’t leave, because what would happen to humanity, the non-jujutsu humans?” All the bitter feelings he’s been bottling up come spilling out. He couldn’t believe that you wanted his life, especially not after seeing the kinds of situations he’s put into regularly.

No one understood him, not even at school, because curse absorption was such a rare ability. Even if he tried to put it into words, he knew how everyone would react; like it was his duty to continue to do it even if he hated it, treated like some sort of heroic martyr for protecting the human race. For once, he’d love to be you, able to see cursed spirits, but having zero obligation to do anything about it. The appeal of the milk tea dissipates, and he throws it into a trash can, disgust lining his face as his feelings about sorcery start bubbling up.

“I can never think of having a normal life. Going into something other than sorcery, or to just have a selfish moment where if I don’t want to take on a cursed spirit, I can say no and walk away.” He starts walking faster and you’re almost sprinting to keep up with him.

“Geto!”

“You don’t understand how lucky you are! I’d pick being the class weirdo any day over having to absorb a cursed spirit.”

You hurry behind him, trailing in his wake, worrying you have ruined everything. “Geto please- I didn’t mean-”

“I’d love to be normal! To go on a date, maybe hold hands, maybe even kiss a girl if I get lucky! Where’s the time for that? If I’m absorbing cursed spirits all the time? I know what it tastes like! Who would want to be with me? Who would want to kiss me?”

You’ve both walked a reasonable distance from the main shops onto a waterfront shopping strip. It was quieter here, a pleasant breeze flowing through the night air as Geto heatedly walked towards the railing, you scurrying behind him. You manage to catch hold of his hand and to your relief, he doesn’t pull away.

“Geto.” Your heart aches for him. “I’m sorry I brought it up,” you mumble, wishing he’d turn around and look at you. He peers over the railing at the water, watching little lily pads float on the surface.

The silence between you both is deafening. Treading carefully, you try to talk to him again, keeping your voice gentle. “Geto, before I met you, do you know what my life was like? With everyone thinking I was a liar? Or that I was making up things to get attention?”

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“I had no one. Everything changed when I met you. I felt like…someone finally gets it. And it’s not just me who can see those awful things. They really exist, and there are lots of people who can see them. It made me feel…a little less alone.”

He turns to look at you, his expression doubtful and your heart skips a beat as you realize you're still holding his hand, the tension between you both blossoming like springtime wildflowers.

“You said you wanted…to hold hands. To kiss someone.” You draw closer. “What would you do…If I said…I want to do those things with you?”

His eyes widen as you get closer but he doesn’t push away. “I’d ask you if you were sure because you might be making a mistake.”

You shake your head. “I’m positive I’m not making a mistake.”

His hand, the one you’re holding onto tightens around your smaller one and pulls you against him. You inhale, his skin smelling wonderful and his chest so big and broad and warm.

“Geto…” Your voice is lost amidst the tangle of nerves and rush of excitement, both hearts hammering in their chests. Shy inexperience made both of you blush before you raised your head, and Geto’s tips downwards, and your lips met gently, a subtle brush against the other before breaking away. You giggle awkwardly, unable to stop and Geto also grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Um…that was nice,” he murmurs, not looking at you and chuckling, unsure what to say.

“Was that a good first kiss?”

“Oh!” Geto now laughs too but still doesn’t pull away, instead, maintains proximity with you, and brushes some loose hair away from your face. “Uh, yeah. It was…like how I imagined it.”

Silence falls between you both, not an uncomfortable one, but the kind where both kissers are considering if they should change topics or kiss again to make sure the first one wasn’t imagined.

Geto’s eyes suddenly widen as he sees something floating near your head. He pulls you close to him, then huffs as he sees a harmless flyhead, then with a jolt of realization, he taps your shoulder.

“Flyhead curse! It’s harmless! Take your picture now!”

“What?” you look over your shoulder and see the creepy-looking gremlin of a creature then gasp. “I don’t have my camera!”

“Phone! Quick!” Without hesitating, Geto reaches out and grabs the flyhead which struggles and buzzes angrily but is too weak to try escaping. It squirms and tries to sink its little teeth into Geto’s fist and he shakes it angrily.

“Hurry up!”

With hands trembling in excitement, you pull out your phone and quickly snap a crystal-clear picture the the ugly critter. It makes a low grumbling noise and Geto throws it away into the air. It mutters angrily at him before zooming away.

“Shouldn’t you have exorcized that?” you ask, looking in awe at the photo on your phone.

“Nah. It’s pretty harmless. Chances are it’ll get squished by a lower-rank sorcerer by daybreak.”

Your cheeks are red with happiness, triumph glittering in your eyes. “I can’t believe it, I actually got a picture of it…” You rake a hand through your hair.

Geto silently watches your outburst of enthusiasm, a smile tugging his lips. “So what’s more exciting - you finally catching a curse on camera, or the fact that you just had your first kiss and it was with me?” His voice is soft and teasing and you roll your eyes but fail to control the dusting of pink in your face.

“I think I need to experience it again before I can decide.”

“Is that right?” Suguru smirks before pulling you closer to him. “Let’s see if we can help you make a decision.”

You grin widely before your lips touch again, and you knew it had never been a question from the start.

@estarlias @daswanj @actuallysaiyan @whatshernameis

@byul9158 @mirrors-musings @Mangiswig

@that-goth-bisexual @connorsui @jadedjane @darkstarlight82

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babyleostuff · 1 year

Text

pool date | xu minghao

☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: tamed- dashed by enhypen

summary | pool date with Minghao in Macau (+ other members annoying you :>)

genre | fluff

word count | 1.8k

author’s note | I’ll need at least a week to recover from Mingyu’s and Mingaho’s photos, they want us dead fr (thank you for the boyfriend pics tho)

“You want to go swimming?” Minghao suddenly asked you, lifting his head from your lap. After their concert yesterday he swore he would use this day to rest, but hearing the noise and laughs coming from the gigantic pool below, he couldn’t resist.

“Sure, why not,” you smiled at him, giving a nod of approval. You spent the whole day together laying around and talking, so finishing it off with a couple of hours at the pool would be the best way to end it.

You excitedly got up from the couch and went straight to your bedroom to find your swimming suit, leaving Minghao alone in the living room. Grabbing your phone on the way, you immediately dialed your best friend’s number, in hopes that they would help you pick out the best one.

“Okay, listen. We’re going to the pool and I need help with choosing my swimming suit,” you said straight away, opening your suitcase.

“Hello to you too,” you rolled your eyes, searching for the bottoms of one of your bikinis.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier, but everything was so hectic yesterday that I totally forgot. Forgive me, please?” you picked up your phone from the bed and set it next to the suitcase.

“It’s okay, I’m just joking,” your friend laughed. “Now show me what we can choose from,” they said, getting closer to the camera to see you better.

“Okay, so we have this one, but I think it might be a bit too revealing.”

“You think? People might get a heart attack if they see you wearing this. Leave this one for when you two are alone, you dork,” you laughed at their comment, but agreed wholeheartedly.

You didn’t even know why you packed this, it’s not like it was a private pool, where you could actually use this one to your advantage.

“What about this? Is this one family friendly?” you showed them the next one, which was a much safer option.

“Oh, it’s so pretty. You’re going to look great in this one. And Minghao is going to love it as well,” they wiggled their eyebrows in a suggestive tone, making you snort.

“It’s a pool full of kids, nothing is going to happen,” you said with a straight face.

“Well, maybe not in the pool, but who knows what might happen after.”

“You know what,” you sighed in a joking manner. “Thank you for your help, but I’ve got to go.”

“Okay, remember to stay safe though. And have fun!”

You quickly changed into your swimming suit, putting on one of Minghao’s t-shirts as well. Making sure you had everything ready, you grabbed your and your boyfriend's books from the bedside table, sunglasses and a sun cream and put them in one of your bags.

“Okay, I’m ready,” you said, entering the living room space. He quickly got up and disappeared in the bedroom, only to come out a second later.

“How come are you always so quick?” you laughed.

He simply shrugged and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. Smiling at him, you put your hand at the back of his neck and gave him a sweet peck on his lips.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you too, honey. Now come on, let’s go,” he exclaimed, kissing your lips once more.

As the doors to the elevator started slowly closing, some loud noises came from the hallway. And it was a very distinctive noise that you would recognize anywhere. Just as you were about to ask Minghao whether the boys are coming as well, a yellow floaty appeared between the closing doors.

“No way. You’re going to the pool too?” asked Mingyu, entering the elevator with a towel and two big floaties, wearing only black sunglasses and his swimming trunks. Now you were a hundred percent sure that the attention of the whole pool was going to be on him.

“Yeah, what a coincidence, right?” Seungcheol came right behind him, carrying his own stuff.

“How many more of you are there?” asked Minghao, slightly annoyed. You knew that he wanted to spend this day alone with you, especially since you wouldn't be able to see each other that often back in Korea because of his schedules.

“Just us,” said Mingyu. “And them,” he added, as Jihoon, Chan and Soonyoung entered the elevator as well.

“What? We just want to spend some quality time together,” spoke Chan, as he saw the irritated expression of your boyfriend.

“We see each other literally everyday,” he sighed and looked up toward the ceiling.

You sent an apologetic look towards the boys, asking them silently to understand Mingaho and not bother him too much.

You put your other hand, the one that wasn’t held by your boyfriend, around his bicep, stroking it gently with your thumb. Squeezing his hand, you reassured him that no matter what, this day was going to be perfect, and nothing could destroy it, not even his annoying members.

As Mingaho turned his gaze towards you, a smile playing upon his lips, you felt your heart flutter - you couldn't help but drink in the sight of him, captivated by the depth of his affection apparent in his eyes. You send him a small smile as well, leaning your head on his strong shoulder.

The moment the elevator doors opened, Mingyu and Chan were out in a second, probably the most excited about the pool. The rest of the boys teased them of course, commenting on their childish behavior despite being in their 20s, but they looked almost as excited as them.

You and Minghao were the last to leave, trailing slowly behind them. Not wanting to bring any attention to yourselves, you found two empty sun loungers in the less crowded part of the pool area. Setting all your stuff aside, you took off Minghao’s shirt and took a look around.

The afternoon sun blazed high in the cloudless sky, casting a glow over the poolside. The air hummed with the sounds of laughter, splashing water, and the gentle rustling of palm trees in the breeze. The scent of sunscreen mingled with the sweet fragrance of nearby flowers, and anywhere you looked, there was an air of relaxation and pure bliss.

“Should we go in the water?” Minghao asked.

“Yeah, sure,” you said softly, following his lead towards the shallow part of the pool.

You took your first steps into the water, immersing yourselves in its cool embrace. The sensation enveloped you, sending shivers of delight through your bodies. You waded deeper, the water rising higher until it enveloped your torsos, providing a refreshing respite from the heat.

“It’s actually colder than I thought it would be,” you said, trying to get used to the cold sensation.

“Oh, really?” you could hear Minghao’s mischievous tone, but didn’t expect him to do anything. It’s when you felt a cold splash of water on your back, you heard Mingahao laugh loudly.

“You did not just splash me, Hao!” you exclaimed, though not annoyed in the slightest.

“It seems like I just did,” he said proudly with a smirk on his face and splashed you again, drenching you completely.

“Ugh, you asshole,” you beamed and threw yourself at him, making him lose his balance and fall into the water. You couldn't help but to smile widely, and let out a joyous laugh upon seeing his confused state, while being under water.

He quickly got up though and wrapped his long arms around you, trapping you in his embrace, not giving you a chance to run away.

“Let me go, Hao!” you exclaimed, trying to wiggle out of his grip.

“Not a chance,” he said, and just as he was about to throw you under the water, a familiar yellow floaty hit the back of his head.

“Hey, I found them,” suddenly Mingyu appeared, waving towards the rest of the boys.

Seeing the slight agitation on Mingahao’s face, you pulled him toward you.

“Hey, why are you so annoyed with them hanging out with us?” you asked, your voice laced with concern.

He hesitated a bit before answering, not wanting to be that bad friend. “I just wanted to spend this day with you, and only you,” he said, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Look, I can just tell them that I want you all to myself. Then they’ll probably leave us alone,” you put your hand on his cheek, making him turn his face towards you. You pulled his glasses on top of his head, making sure he was looking you straight in the eye.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to ruin everyones’ day, just because I’m in a bitchy mood. I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun with them too,” he send you a reassuring smile, guiding you by your waist towards Seungcheol and Chan.

“Yes, our favorite couple is back!” Mingyu cheered and pushed Soonyoung under the water at the same time. You were sure that someone would end up dead, if they wouldn’t stop acting like literal toddlers.

Minghao joined Mingyu in his shenanigans, teaming up against the older ones. You couldn't help but laugh at the silliness of your boyfriend and his friends, and feeling extremely grateful that they finally got some time to unwind and relax.

“What did they do to you to get you out here?” you asked, joining Jihoon by the pool’s edge.

“I figured since I’ve never been to Macau before, I should get out of my room and see something at least. And I really didn’t want to go out to the city with Wonwoo and Jeonghan,” he explained with a hint of humor in his voice.

“Well, that explains everything,” you laughed and turned your gaze back to Minghao.

You spent some time chatting comfortably with Jihoon and observing your boyfriend, before they decided it was time for photos.

“Okay, I’ll take yours and you'll take mine,” said Mingyu, giving Minghao his phone.

During the next couple of minutes, the boys each took their turn to pose and take photos with the amazing pool and hotel as the background. You instructed them how they should pose when they were out of ideas, because not only as a girlfriend, but as a fan, you’d know what would make Carats go crazy.

“I think they all look great. You’ll have a lot to choose from,” you said, approaching Minghao and putting your arm around his waist.

He looked at you with a soft smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you further into his side. You nestled your head against Minghao's shoulder, finding solace in his proximity.

“Thank you for today. It was perfect,” he whispered into your ear and kissed the side of your head.

Feeling like words weren’t enough to express how grateful you were as well, you leaned in slightly, your lips brushing gently against Minghao’s. It was a sweet and innocent moment, a tender expression of your shared affection.

“By the way. Could I maybe see the other swimsuit I heard you talking about?”

“Xu Minghao!”

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yelenasdiary · 1 month

Note

What about something with Yelena dating reader and reader is a "cat girl", like, she loves cats so much and has 4 and yelena didn't know this till they were already dating ~ 🐳

Adorable Cat Lady

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary: You have Yelena over for dinner one your fourth date to which she finds out a new fact about you.

Fluff

Warnings: None | 1K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: Thank you for sending this!! I decided to use this as a little shout out to my own cat, Mazda, who does make an appearance in this! I hope you enjoy! x

You had just turned the store off when Yelena knocked softly on your front door. It was officially your fourth date with the ex-widow, and you had offered to cook for her instead of going out. As much as you felt more comfortable in a public setting, you soon realized just how much more of Yelena you wanted to get to know and what better way to do that than over a cooked meal in a place a little more quieter than a restaurant?

“You made it!” You smiled at the blonde, “I was starting to think you might have gotten lost in the neighbourhood” you added teasingly. Yelena chuckled, “We have these cool things called GPS’s now, if you didn’t already know” she replied making you laugh, “very funny! Please come in” you replied, opening the door more for her.

“I got you these, I wasn’t sure what to bring” she said, handing you some flowers and a bag of your favorite potato chips. You took them kindly, thanking her by placing a soft kiss on her cheek, “that’s very sweet of you, thank you” you replied softly.

You lead Yelena into your home, giving her a little tour of your small home before returning to the dining room. “I’ve cooked your favourite, but with a little twist!” You said happily.

“A twist?” Yelena questioned, taking off her coat and neatly hanging it over the back of her chair. “Let’s just say I hope you like spicy food” you hinted, giving her a cheeky smirk just as your eldest cat jumped up onto the chair you had just pulled out for yourself.

“Woah! You didn’t tell me you had a cat” Yelena said, looking up at you.

“Oh, I have four! This is Misty, she’s my eldest. Then there is Patches, Zuzu and Milo” you replied proudly, “they’re all rescue cats” you added. Yelena smiled softly, “I can’t believe I had to wait until our fourth dated for you to tell me this”

“I didn’t want you to think I was some crazy cat lady” you replied, chuckling. “I’ll be right back, I’ll feed them and then I can dish up our dinner” you added with another smile before dashing off to the kitchen. The sound of you opening a can of cat food soon had the other three of your cats running towards the kitchen, Misty following as you began to dish up their food.

While Yelena waited, she soon noticed just how much you loved cats, the two empty classes on the table had small cat paw prints printed on them, you had a few photos of your cats in frames on the wall, on the small display cabinet that Yelena could see; there was some small cat merchandise like items sitting proudly. She smiled to herself before she noticed you walking by the kitchen and into the living room, opening up the window and placing a small plate of cat food on the bench.

“You have a fifth cat I don’t know about?” Yelena asked sarcastically.

“No, I just like to feed the neighbour’s cat a little treat, her name is Mazda” you replied before making your way back to the kitchen. You dished up the hot meal you had just spent the last couple of hours making before returning to the dining room and placing a plate in front of Yelena.

“Thank you, adorable little cat lady” the blonde smiled making you chuckle, “you’re welcome little miss smart arse! I hope you like it, its one-pot chilli mac and cheese” you replied before taking a seat across from her. “Detka, I’m Russian. I drink straight vodka and not once have I thought about adding chilli to my mac and cheese! You’re a genius!” She complimented.

“I’ve never made it before, so I hope it’s good” you smiled softly before the two of you dug in.

After dinner and the countless compliments Yelena gave you on your cooking, you introduced her to your other three cats. Zuzu was a little more shy than the others and took a few moments to warm up to Yelena but once she did, she didn’t leave Yelena’s side.

“Which one did you rescue first?” Yelena asked with Zuzu in her lap.

“Zuzu actually! She was a year old when I adopted her, then a week later I adopted Patches. She’s a little older than Zuzu but they were good together, played all the time! Made an absolute mess of my house when I wasn’t home!” You replied, remembering the time the two cats were younger. “Then I got a call from a friend who works at a shelter, and she said that Misty was on basically on her last life, I couldn’t say no. So, I brought her home and she quickly became a mother figure to Zuzu and Patches. Then came Milo, my shy baby” you added, smiling softly.

“And the stray outside? You haven’t adopted that one yet?” Yelena questioned making you chuckle, “Mazda isn’t a stray, she lives next door, I just love giving her a treat every night” you replied.

“Did you name her after the car or?”

You shook your head, “no, that was the owner. Not sure why though but it suits her”

“Honestly, I knew you had cats, I would’ve taken you to the cat café for our first date” Yelena smiled softly, “and if you had of done that, I fear I may have scared you off with not wanting to leave the kitty’s!” You joked, the two of you laughing afterwards.

“Would you say these cutie would give the grand approval for me to take you to the movies on Saturday?” Yelena asked. You instantly fell for her even more as she didn’t treat your cats are just pets but pets that are your family. “You may need to butter Milo up” you joked.

Yelena chuckled once more, “well, Milo, my new found friend, we need to have a little chat” she replied, giving you a playful wink.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #🐳 anon #fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #yelena belova x reader

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 9 months

Text

Eddie Munson's second chance

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending

Rated: G

CW: referenced child neglect/abuse

Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.

Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.

Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour.

Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood.

Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head.

Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning.

"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong.

"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-"

"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?"

"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over."

They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him.

Even if she tied it to one condition.

He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat.

He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi.

"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.

Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends.

"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel."

The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."

Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should.

Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking.

"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?"

Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday.

"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph."

He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin.

"Don't worry, I won't tell."

This gets him a huffed laugh.

"He'd love this place, it's really cool."

When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard.

"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself."

A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.

Well, shit.

"Listen, your highness …"

"Steve is fine."

"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick."

A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly."

"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?"

"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged."

Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh.

"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets."

Eddie frowns.

"Dustin as in the kid or …"

"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon."

Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way."

He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.

"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow."

When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains.

"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?"

"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number."

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles #the rock star and the royal

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stealingyourbones · 2 years

Note

Not sure if this has been suggested before but what do you think about a DP x DC Cross where the JL discover Amity because the "It's Not Gay if he's Dead" joke escapes containment into mainstream? Also I love your blog! You're awesome.

aaaaa thank you sm hun! I really appreciate that :D I'm glad you enjoy my funky lil blog!

And now, I threw this idea at a fellow who is simply me with prompts but even more unhinged and they wrote a thing. I present to you, This:

------

Escaping containment implies that the content got leaked somehow.

Maybe after so long with dealing with ghosts on their own, especially with ghosts that can control and use tech the people of Amity Park decide to self isolate. Phantom and Red Huntress are considered the only main heroes allowed in Amity, one out of pride and two out of concern of a ghost possessing an foreign hero.

There was a fight and the tech isolation software glitched or a satellite picks up something on accident, letting a small leak occur. Nothing major, just a small joke.

A blurry photo of a white haired teenager with a fancam like edit around him and the words "It's Not Gay if he's Dead."

Which on its own wouldn't have taken off very much on the internet, but someone pointed out that the teenager was wearing what was very obviously a hero outfit. Leading to people wondering just who exactly this hero is or was.

So they dig, and it turns out the “one” leak wasn't the only one to happen.

The internet finds out there's not just one meme. There's hundreds of them. All originating from a single midwestern city and mostly focused around one person, the white haired teenager that is referred to as Phantom in most memes.

Theres edits of a female musician with bright blue hair with text saying “that moment when a dead girl is your bisexual awakening” and “Its not a crush on a villian if shes not alive.”

There's even photos of these slime-like creatures. With dozens of different memes referring to them. Varying from calling them green pigeons, to talking about tossing them like a sports ball.

Theres even a photo of Dash and most of the football team are wearing group shirts that all say “It's Not Gay if he's Dead” with Phantoms logo on it, half as a joke and half because some of them would definitely date Phantom if they could.

It's not even the Justice League that finds the jokes first, it's the younger generation of heroes.

(It's how Tim asks Kon for a date. He sends a meme with Danny getting flunged in the worlds most tumbling superhero pose with the below text "It's not gay if he's dead." Tim immediately sends another text "But it is gay if he's an alien, 10pm picnic date?")

The different memes get passed around, none of them taking them that seriously, until it gets to Batman. One of the memes is sent in the bat group chat by one of the Bat kids to ask Jason about getting group Batburger later. “If your hero’s dead its not gay, it’s just hero worship, even if you want to meet him behind the Nasty Burger.”

It's the hyper specific wording that gets Batman to look into it. He only finds the memes, nothing else. No town called Amity Park, no hero called Phantom, no trace outside of a reference to a defunct and wiped completely clean government branch and references to a nonexist law.

This leads him to contact the Justice League, including the JL Dark, for a meeting.

Surprisingly quite a few members recognize the teen outside of the memes. Flash, Captain Marvel, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Aquaman, and some of the JLD. The Flash refuses to say anything due to timeline continuum dangers. Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Martian Manhunter mention someone like him appearing in ancient texts, but nothing beyond that. The JLD that know are physically and contractually unable to say much beyond Phantom being a hero and very important.

It’s Captain Marvel that genuinely knows anything about him. “That's Danny, he's pretty cool. He's even helped me out a few times!”

The rest of the JL are surprised, Marvel gets more questions and answers some of them. He doesn't share the knowledge that he's helped Billy at handling the whole secret child hero thing, and that he's welcome in Amity. Just enough information to make the League stop looking into Phantom, Ember, Cujo, all of Amity.

It works, mostly.

Batman has never been one to let sleeping dogs lie…

-From Bones’ GhostWriter, S.

#Y'all I am still just buffering. you choose GHOSTWRITER AS YOUR ALIAS?! that's far too good of a pun how dare #its one of those puns you're equally like amused and also slightly enraged by ya know? one of those #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc comics #writing prompts #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #bones replies #halfcybergremlin #Skeleton in the closet #<that's gonna be the Ghostwriter tag yall #I proposed Bones But Better but they refused :(#its true

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honeytama · 3 months

Text

Look After You

Matt Dierkes x Plus Size!Fem!Reader

A/N: Matt shares an old tee with Reader in this, indulge me, and imagine that thing fits you amazingly!! Also, def don't listen to Look After You by the Fray after reading this, I'm crying.

Summary: After a guy cancels on a first date for the ?'th time, your friend, Matt, shows you’re worthy of honest love.

“Will you, won’t you, be the one I’ll always know?”

Content: Reader is plus size, friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, bed sharing/sharing clothes, first kiss

Word Count: 2.7k

Tag List: @exitwoundsx @areuirish @artificialbreezy @thisbicc @alloraiona

@xcllnt

Something happened. Can I come over? You anxiously send this text over to your friend Matt.

You wait for his response. The tears in your eyes blur his contact photo at the top of your screen; it’s an old selfie he sent you while on tour.

You wonder why it can't just be him. Why did you have to pursue other men? Especially when they treat you like this.

Your phone buzzes and a gray bubble appears.

Hey, of course. I just made dinner.

The keys in your hand jingle as you dash to your car to make your way to his house.

—

You fell into his chest once he opened the door to his home, and his arms held you as you stood there weeping against him. He usually was adverse about your habit of touching him, but tonight he indulged you, comforted you by holding you close and rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Sorry, for getting tears on your shirt,” you had said while wiping the two wet spots on his shoulder.

He shrugged. “I’ve gotten over it already,” he gave you a sheepish smile. “Come eat some food and then we can talk about what's going on.”

For twenty minutes, you could feel his eyes stealing worried glances as you two ate in silence.

So, now that you’re both finished eating dinner, Matt checks in on you while taking your plate to do the dishes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” you frown at him while he scrubs your plates at his sink. “But, that’s why I came over anyway, so I might as well share.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says reassuringly while drying his hands and turning to face you. Matt crosses his arms and leans against the counter. “We can watch a movie or listen to some music. Whatever you want to get your mind off of it.”

“No, I want to tell you,” you breathe out nervously. “I went on a date– or I was supposed to be on a date tonight with a guy I met online.”

“Oh,” he shakes his head in surprise and furrows his brow. “I didn't know you were dating,” he says softly.

“I thought it would be weird to tell you,” you play with your hands in your lap. “We don't really talk about dating…or sex, those kinds of things, with each other.”

“I know we don’t, but I hoped that you would share that you were trying to date,” he says before clearing his throat. “So, that I could vet him, I mean. Make sure he’s good enough for you.”

“Well, now I wish you had,” you look down at your feet and your bottom lip quivers.

Matt sees this and rushes over the the dining chair next to you. He pulls it out and sits so you two are facing each other. “Shit, what the hell did he do?”

You touch his knee to calm him, “Nothing serious. I swear.” You continue to explain your night after a deep breath.

“I’ve been talking to him for a few days. We planned out a whole dinner date and maybe going back to his place afterward if things went well, but when I sent him a picture of myself in my date outfit to show him I was excited he just… rejected me, right then,” your eyes begin to water as you’re reminded of the humiliation. “He canceled on me and made some stupid fucking excuse about how he was having car trouble.”

“What the fuck?” Matt fumes.

“So, I asked him if I could just go over to his place to hang out and he said his apartment’s AC was broken—?” It’s then that your voice breaks into sobs and tears trickle down your cheeks. Embarrassment rolls over you in a wave that burns your skin.

“What an asshole,” he takes your phone in his hands from the dining table. “Did that fucker ever share his address with you? I’ll pay him a visit for—.”

“Please, no,” you reach to grab your phone. “I just want you here with me.”

“He deserves to pay for treating you like that! Why the fuck would he just cancel on you?” Matt asks angrily.

“Matt, I—,” you stammer through your sobs and avoid his eyes. “I don’t think he knew what my… full body looked like, even with the pictures in my profile.”

“Motherfucker,” he lowers his voice so as not to startle you. Sure, he’s enraged at the situation, but you’re breaking down in front of him and he doesn't want his anger to exacerbate it.

“This isn’t the only time this has happened, either” you hang your head in shame. “It’s either they cancel on dates because of my body, or act the complete opposite and use me for my body just to ghost me,” you reveal to him.

While this made him want to put his hands around someone's throat until they saw red, he gently held your hands through it and nodded sweetly while listening to you stammer and tear up at the past. “You can tell me everything. Lay it on me,” he encouraged.

After an hour of talking to him about the hell other men have put you through, you sniffle while checking your phone and notice it’s nearing his and his dogs’ usual bedtime. “Thank you for letting me come over to talk to you. I’m going to head home; I don’t want to keep you from going to sleep,” you start to gather your things, but Matt puts a hand on your knee.

“Y/N, of course, but I don’t feel comfortable with you going home alone like this. Why don't you stay with me tonight?” He suggests softly.

“Matt, It’s okay. I’m okay. I’ll go home,” you say with a shrug. It’s then you notice how heavy your shoulders feel.

“Please. You can stay in the guest bedroom. You can even borrow some of my clothes to change into,” he smiles.

You giggle and wipe your tears with the back of your hand. “I don’t think I’ll fit into your clothes.”

“One sleep shirt I have doesn’t fit on me. Try it and if it doesn’t work, then I’ll drive over to your place myself to get you pajamas,” he assures.

A tingle creeps up your neck imagining him doing something so thoughtful. Matt usually makes gestures to show he cares, but it’s usually in the form of his words or fists being thrown. Why did he care so much about you? Sure, he wasn't an angel, but there’s a soft spot that only you manage to access when you're around him. You almost hoped he would be a massive jerk to you; it would help you eliminate the feelings you had for him and make your heart feel less tangled.

You nod at his proposition and follow him to his bedroom. He pulls his drawers open and closed rummaging through his things until finding an old, white Underoath merch tee. He holds it out to you, “Go get changed, let me know how it fits.”

You take the shirt and leave his bedroom. Just down the hall from him, you enter his well-decorated guest room and lock the door. Pulling off your clothes, you put on Matt’s old shirt and look into the full-length mirror leaning against the wall.

Like a dream, it fits perfectly. It’s so soft, and the front of the shirt ends comfortably at your upper thighs.

However, you didn't have any bottoms so you would sleep with bare legs tonight.

The carpet in the hallway carries your feet back to Matt’s bedroom. Through the crack in the door, he tucks Boo and Zeus into their beds on the floor. The soft glow of his bedside lamp light bathes his physique. You didn’t expect him to be down to his boxers already.

It was the first time you had ever seen him like this. His collar bones, chest, abdomen, thighs, everything that’s ever been covered by him just out, nonchalantly.

“Matt,” you push the door open slightly, hiding your bottom half. “It fits.”

He turns to you and smiles, “I’m glad. Go try to get some rest,” he tells you caringly. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Matt,” you reply and give a small wave to the dogs. “Night night, puppies.”

—

Matt said to try to get some rest and that’s what you were doing. It just isn’t working.

Without checking your phone, forty minutes have passed of you tossing and turning in his guest bed. It was comfortable, but you couldn’t settle your mind enough to fall asleep.

Fuck it.

You slip out of bed and quietly creep back down the hallway to his room. With a soft knock on his door, you bounce on the balls of your feet impatient for him to open it.

The door is pulled open and Matt stands there in his underwear in front of you. “Y/N, you okay?” He squints at you and rubs his eyes in the darkness while only moonlight slips through the cracks of his blinds to illuminate you.

“I’m sorry if I woke you…I couldn’t sleep,” you offered shyly while fidgeting with the hem of his tee shirt on your thighs.

“Mmm,” he nods. “Come get in my bed.”

You tiptoe past his dogs sleeping soundly over to the opposite side of the bed from him. Timidly climbing into his sheets, he invites you to lay down by pulling his comforter over your waist and fluffing his unused pillows.

“Get comfortable,” he whispers as he climbs in after you.

“Thank you,” you whisper back.

Matt and you face each other in the dark while sharing his comforter. Heat radiates off of him and you want so badly to reach out and pull him closer to feel it directly from the source.

“Do you need to talk some more?” He asks softly.

“I think I just need you near me. I should fall asleep soon,” you whisper hesitantly.

“Come closer,” Matt switches to lie on his back and he offers out his arm for you to climb into his space. You slide over and lay your head on his chest as his arm hooks around you. He allows his fingers to rub figure eights along your spine. “You can wrap your leg around me,” he says into your hair. “I don't mind.”

You carefully wrap your leg over his body, avoiding his pelvis, and like a puzzle, your bodies fit perfectly together as one. Your hand finds its way to his naked stomach and his breath hitches as you return the favor to draw circles above his navel.

Silence enveloped the room as you two lie together, but it's broken when you bite your lip and ask, “Why are you being so sweet to me?”

He chuckles and it makes your head raise with his chest, “I’m always nice to you. What are you saying?”

“If you being a little bully to me is you being nice, then yes, you’re a saint,” you giggle. “You just— never let me touch you like this or let me wear your clothes.”

“You needed it tonight,” he murmurs above you. “I’m here to give you what you need, that’s all.”

You think about his words and agree, He’s what I need.

“I was mostly awake, by the way,” he says softly.

“When I knocked?” You ask.

“Yeah, I was thinking about those guys you told me about,” he stops the figure eights on your back.

“Matt,” you warn.

“I know, I know,” he huffs. “I’m not going to search for their addresses online. I swear.”

“Good,” you pat his stomach.

“I just think you deserve someone who knows you're worthy of love— someone who loves your mind… your body,” he confides.

“It would help me out if you knew someone that thought like that, Matty,” you chuckle and look up at him.

“I do,” he says softly. His eyes dart over the features of your face searching for any slight reaction to his words. “I mean, me, I do.”

“What?” You laugh in disbelief.

“I think you're pretty, gorgeous, hot, sexy, whatever word you like best,” he talks with fervor as his eyes bore into yours. “I would most definitely take you on the best first date of your life. Just like tonight, I would set the table and make you dinner. Also, you wouldn’t be crying,” he boasts and it starts to make you giggle. “You could wear whatever you wanted. We would watch movies on my couch afterward, or I could teach you how to play my drums. It would be perfect, and there wouldn't be any stupid excuses made by me because I’m not one of those fucking loser ass dudes you meet on Tinder or wherever.”

“Calm down. Your heart is beating really fast,” you whisper and he looks down at your hand on his chest.

“I know and I don’t care,” he huffs. “I would rather have a stroke trying to let you know how well I would treat you than for you to ever have to return to trying other guys. Why can’t it just be me and you?”

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” you say softly.

“Also,” he continues his rant, “how can they not enjoy a picture of you looking fine as fuck in your first date outfits? I’ve never seen them, but I see you every other time and I want to take screenshots of you with my damn eyes. Matter of fact, there’s this one top you wear that makes your tits look—”

“Matt, stop talking,” you put a hand over his mouth.

“What?” His voice is muffled under your palm. It’s then he notices that you’ve maneuvered yourself to straddle him. As you lean over him, your face is a mere foot away from his.

Removing your hand from his mouth you ask, “You like me, huh?”

“Yeah, and?” He scoffs, the slightest smile creeping over his lips.

“I like you, too,” you admit.

“Oh,” he furrows his brow. “That’s cool, now get off of me.” You both laugh as he pushes your body back onto your side of the bed. After a fit of laughter and fighting him, he finds himself pinning both of your hands with his on either side of your head. Your stomach flutters as his face is so close to yours now; all of him is so close. “You need to go to sleep.”

“Well, now I can't,” you tilt your head and squint at him in the dark. “There’s something I need to say first.”

“What is tha—?”

You sneak a kiss to the corner of his lips. “Thank you for saying those mushy things about me. If I knew you felt that way, then there’s no way I would let another man believe they deserved my time and patience. I just want it to be you, too.”

“Just you and me? Sounds nice,” Matt smiles before his face turns pensive. “You missed my mouth by the way. Kiss me better this time,” he rolls his eyes while dipping to your lips beneath him.

You closed her eyes as your lips met in a hesitant first kiss.

It was soft. Yet, it sparked a fire within you; a delicious warmth flowering in your chest. Matt’s hands squeeze yours harder, but you gather the strength to escape one of his hands and instinctively reach up into his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft wavy strands.

The kiss deepened and your playful banter was forgotten, replaced by the sound of his lips moving against yours and his tongue sneaking gauging licks a your bottom lip. When you finally break apart, breathless and flushed, a comfortable silence settles between you as you share knowing grins.

The sheets rustle as Matt gets out of bed and walks over to the upholstered accent chair in the corner of his bedroom. “Where are you going? Get back in bed and keep kissing me,” you whine when the heat of his body has left you.

“I’ll be over here,” he sits lazily, his legs spread apart. “No one can hurt you while I’m looking after you.”

“You need sleep, too,” you pat his side of the bed.

“Don’t worry about me. Now, get some rest,” he nods at your pillow to lay down.

He softly chuckles when you huff, throw yourself down and toss his comforter over your body. “Ugh, goodnight, Matt.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

#bestie matt is a protector #no other man only matt #matt dierkes #matt dierkes x reader #UGH IM SO SOFT #TEARs

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thehopelessromanticclub · 2 years

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THE KISS CAM

Pairing : Jeon Jeongguk x Y/N

Genre : Fluff, dating au

Word count : 1k

Summary : you appear on the KISS CAM but with the wrong person…

Weekends…

There was nothing special about weekends. For you weekends were boring. It consisted of you munching some potato chips, binge watching Kdramas, living up to your name of night owl. That was it. That was the end of it.

But that was until Jungkook came along, your boyfriend of 6 months. Weekends never felt so amazing…

Loving him was so easy…

It felt so natural…

He was shy. He was tired and messy hairs. He was oversized clothes and ripped jeans. He was whispers at 4 am. He was the smell before it rains. He was the love of her life. A love she never expected would be hers. A love so pure, that it feels to good to be true.

Author’s POV

Ding Dong

“Coming…” you yell loud enough for the entire neighbour hood to hear you before making your way to the door to open it.

There he was standing looking handsome, dashing, cool, amazing as ever… Words were never enough to describe him.

“Ready to go?” He enquired before complimenting how beautiful you looked. He always does that. He’ll call you beautiful even if you were ugly-crying some moments ago. He’ll call you beautiful even if you just woke up and ur face is all swollen up. You were always beautiful in his eyes.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You chimed in making sure to lock the door before you left.

Jungkook had been so into baseball recently, that he convinced you into going to one of the matches that was being held today.

Time skip

“There, that’s our seat.” He said pointing in the direction of two empty seats, both of you making your way into the direction.

The whole stadium was packed with tons of people. More than half of the population wearing their representative team’s uniform. It was spectacular.

“Y/N, is that you?” You heard a familiar voice beside you, hitting your eardrums, which made you turn your head in the direction.

“Yijoon?”

Hwang Yijoon, or more like your crush during high school. Although you did have feelings for him, but that was a thing in the past. As they always say, first love is never successful.

You grew up, your feeling changed. Both of you lost contact owing to the new chapter of adulting in your respective lives. You both got busy in the marathon of growing up.

You’ve told Jungkook about Yijoon once when he inquired who was the guy in your graduation photo, with hearts drawn all over him. Yes, it was you who drew the hearts, your only means of expressing your love for him.

“Omg, Yijoon-ah, how long has it been?” You were beyond ecstatic to meet him.

“I almost forgot about your existence.”

“Well, that was harsh.” He said placing his hand on his heart.

“You grew up so much Y/N, I almost couldn’t recognise you without your braces and bangs.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You laughed swaying your hair.

Both of you got so busy in catching up that you never realised the game had started and that you had a human being accompany you today.

Jungkook’s POV

“Sigh…” this is the umpteenth time I have been sighing.

I’ve been trying so hard to concentrate on the game but all I can concentrate is on them. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but it is her CRUSH being referred here. HER F**KING CRUSH.

I so badly want to go and sit between them and tell that guy, “hey dude, we are on a date, and if you don’t mind I’ll have my girlfriend to myself.”

Author’ POV

“Umm…Y/N? Who’s that guy? He has been eyeing us for a while now.” Yijoon inquired.

It was at this moment, she knew she f**ked up.

You quickly turned your attention towards Jungkook giving him an apologetic look.

“Yijoon, meet Jungkook, Jungkook, meet Yijoon.” You quickly introduced both of them.

“Hi, I am Jungkook, Y/N’s boyfriend. I’ve heard a lot about you from Y/N.” Jungkook gave a strong handshake to Yijoon, asserting himself, jealousy clearly visible on his face.

“Hopefully good things.” Yijoon replied.

Before you knew it, it was break time, or should I say KISS CAM TIME.

Numerous couples appeared on the screen, many of them eventually giving in and kissing, all the while, kiss me more by Doja cat played in the background.

“Aww, they are soo adorable.” You squealed clapping your hands, looking at couples on the screen have the time of their lives.

But that was until you appeared on the screen…

With Yijoon…

Oh shit…

You crossed your hands indicating you and Yijoon are not together. Yijoon even tried pointing at Jungkook. But no matter what, the camera wouldn’t budge.

Now even the crowd started chanting, “ kiss kiss kiss….”

That was the end of it. That was the final straw for Jungkook. He pulled you in for a kiss. It was sweet and soft. Our lips were madly in love and married. It didn’t involve tongue. All that was involved was love and longing. Longing for each other.

You could hear the crowd cheering and clapping in the background. But that was all white noise. All that mattered in this moment was you and him. It was your moment.

You pulled away after some time, running short of breath. Your eyes met his.

“Your face is soo…..red. Are you fine?” Jungkook quickly made sure to check your temperature by placing his hand on your forehead.

“I’m fine.” To which he nodded. You could feel your face pulsating, adrenaline still in your veins making a run for it. Conclusion- you were blushing.

“Y/N, you should know you have good taste in men.” Yijoon whispered beside you.

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gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat · 10 months

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Group F, Round 3, Poll 4:

Propaganda under the cut

Tsurumi Tokushirou

in two words: "it's love". I was already insane about this guy but this line. just wow. the context is a flashback in which Tsurumi has been away fighting in the Sino-Japanese war and is now telling his dojo master that even trained soldiers are typically reluctant to kill another person and many will only pretend to fire their weapons. he spent a long time considering how you convince them to overcome that before figuring it out. "the motivating force that can bring out the aggressiveness in your soldiers... it isn't hatred of the enemy troops, nor is it fear... it isn't even a difference in political ideals. [what is it then?] it's love". this man is *surrounded* by soldiers who will do anything for him and you slowly see through multiple flashbacks just how much he has been pulling strings for *years* to make them love him. this particular flashback involves two fourteen year olds fighting over his attention until one of them kills the other and tsurumi helps cover up the murder and tells the murderer how *of course you have always been my favourite*. that kid goes on to work under him and when tsurumi draws on his face as a punishment he gets the drawings tattooed on so they stay forever. in another case he orchestrates the kidnapping of a different 14yo son of a navy commander by "Russians" (his loyal subordinates) and then pulls off a dashing rescue, earning the livelong military support of the dad and a major crush from the son. this kid chooses to go to army route rather than follow his dad into the navy, specifically because of tsurumi who he also ends up working for. he can't speak comprehensibly to tsurumi and edits himself into photos of him. case 3: while a soldier is away at war he crush appears to commit suicide by drowning in the sea. upon finding out that his dad told her he wasn't coming back, he beats him to death and ends up on death row. I forget exactly what info is revealed when but a) the woman is alive and tsurumi helped her move to Tokyo and get married, b) tsurumi planted fake bones under tsukishima's father's house to frame him for her murder, c) this then allowed tsukishima to be freed from jail, as long as he agreed to work for tsurumi as a Russian translator (he doesn't speak Russian at the time), d) tsukishima doesn't know all of this initially but tsurumi sets things up so he overhears a convo that reveals some of it so that he can know exactly what lengths tsurumi went to and feel even more in his debt, e) tsukishima later realises that conversation was set up and its purpose but *even with that knowledge* and being probably the character most aware of Tsurumi's manipulations, the pull is too strong and he will follow him to the ends of the earth. literally his only goal in life now is to have front row seats to the Tsurumi Theatre, which btw involves chasing convicts around to obtain their skins, wiping out entire prison populations and invading parts of Russia. he sometimes blames his erratic actions on the brain damage caused by a mortar shell to the forehead but he was doing all the same things before that, just more quietly. he knows *exactly* what he's doing and has everything planned out in detail

that post by @temp-propaganda because no way I can fit that all in propaganda section

Goncharov

He spends the entire film lying to and manipulating as many people as possible to achieve his ultimate goal (Katya is an obvious example; her having enough of that is a driving force behind their breaking relationship), and also including himself (insisting that he doesn't like Andrey when they're basically about to kiss anytime they're on screen). Also Gaslight Gatekeep Goncharov amiright

#round 3 #group f #Tsurumi Tokushirou #Golden Kamuy #goncharov #unreality #goncharov 1973

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genericpuff · 1 year

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Mystery solved.

Okay. Okay I gotta figure out where to begin with this- breathes

A fellow ULO community member was going through old S1 panels and pointing out typos that we had all somehow missed (LO typos have a tendency to sneak by like that) and one thing they pointed out that I had never noticed was this one panel from Episode 102:

Particularly pointing out how the font overlays Hades' fingers which is just hilarious. That was where it was supposed to end.

But have you ever actually read the letter?

Because I did. And it took me on a ride I wasn't expecting to go on at 2:30 in the morning.

This shot of the letter is from the second instance it appears, when Hades scratches out part of it and writes, "I love the way you treat me, and I want to feel that way all the time."

But the first time this letter appears, when he's actively writing it, it's delivered to us through narration, in Episode 47. I actually love this episode, it does a great job at visual storytelling without overuse of active dialogue, and the content of the letter itself shows a great amount of self-awareness from Hades in the moment, even though the dark implications of what he's feeling is falling on his own deaf ears and the scene itself is quickly dashed by the obligatory quip-for-comedy-so-people-don't-get-too-sad of Hades' dismissing his therapist's advice, with the irony of him not realizing his own issues as he's writing this letter mere hours before overstepping his boundaries and having a guy whacked for taking photos of the Goddess of Spring.

But there was one line in particular that's always stood out to me.

The line "it ends up hurting you" felt random and out-of-context. In the beginning on my first read through back in early-mid 2019, I thought maybe it was just being poetic and I "didn't get it", until I became a critic of the series and had a reality check and realized it was likely just a typo, perhaps it was meant to be "It would end up hurting you" or something of that nature.

But it was looking at that panel of the letter and actually reading the text that was there that I realized - the line feels random and out-of-context, because it is random and out-of-context.

Look back at the letter. Paragraph eight. Rachel didn't write the full line despite it being necessary to the line 'it ends up hurting you'.

The full excerpt reads:

"I WISH I COULD EMPTY A DRAWER IN MY DRESSER FOR YOU, OR BUY YOU A TOOTHBRUSH TO KEEP IN MY BATHROOM. THE TRUTH IS, EVERY TIME WE HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH EACH OTHER... IT ENDS UP HURTING YOU."

I can't believe it's not just a typo. I can't believe it took me this long to find this. I don't know how this got missed by Rachel, I'm assuming she wrote the letter out first and then copy and pasted the words into a larger font size which she placed throughout the episode, but how could that one part have been missed when the line "it ends up hurting you" is a dependent clause that can't stand on its own without the line that precedes it?

At the very least, I do finally feel like I've found closure over this one scene, now that I know the full context to the line. And I wouldn't have found it if it weren't for people joking about the letter panel being drawn like shit.

But it's definitely discouraging because it begs the question, what else is being haphazardly left out of the dialogue? What other clunky sentences with next to no context or build-up or reasoning could be better if they were actually finished or if Rachel and her team had spent the extra time to double check the script and ensure that no sentence is being left half-finished?

The irony in this scene as well is that Hades acknowledges he's too old for Persephone, he acknowledges that they aren't good for each other and that he'll only wind up hurting her, he acknowledges that he barely knows her and he shouldn't call what he feels for her 'love', but infatuation, a very accurate and self-aware statement that I feel like the current Hades lacks. It makes it feel all the more distressing when the letter makes a return in Episode 102, and he makes one simple change:

As impactful as this statement was back in the day, looking back, knowing fully well how far his character has now fallen, this now feels less like a triumphant statement accepting his feelings and more like one of giving in to his selfish desires. This is even more accentuated by the use of the red ink, which splatters across the page alongside messy handwriting, contrary to the meticulous typewriting above.

He's pushing off his baggage as a mere bridge to cross later.

He's making hopeful assumptions about her feelings and putting her on a pedestal without communicating his actual baggage outside of his own head and with her directly. In fact, he doesn't get around to talking about this baggage until she's in a position to depend on him in Season 2.

He's fantasizing about their future with next to no foundation yet, and while he's recognizing that she might not be happy with him in the long term, he still tosses all those legitimate concerns aside to "I love the way she treats me", as if all that matters is what she can do for him - and what he can and can't do for her isn't important until it will inevitably rear its ugly head after she's already become his.

This is the turning point where Hades has become the villain. Where he's shifted from being the responsible adult and leader to an obsessive fanatic whose only goal is to have Persephone. To the point that, despite him saying in the letter that it would be best to limit his presence around her-

-seems to be upset over the notion of doing that exact thing as soon as she's the one to suggest it. Acting as if he's being rejected when he was the one to originally conceive the idea to limit their presence around one another for her own good.

Hades being a responsible King and adult went out the window years ago and I feel like this was the moment where it happened, and that red pen was the gavel. Apparently all it took was her admitting she has a crush on him - undoubtedly as shallow as his crush on her, based solely on infatuation but not written on paper as Hades' confession was - for him to toss aside all that work to unpack his feelings and all that responsibility he was willing to take. Never mind the fact that her feelings could undoubtedly use unpacking of their own. Never mind the fact that her liking him back still doesn't change the reality of their situation - that they're fundamentally different people, from different worlds, with vastly different experiences and outlooks and values and goals, living in massively different life stages. Try as it might to be presented as romantic, that "opposites attract", it's more appropriately and commonly known as being incompatible.

If this were any other story, this would be a precautionary tale in so many ways, made especially significant for an audience that's largely coming of age and experiencing feelings of infatuation and attraction for the first time.

But this isn't that story. It's Lore Olympus.

Hades is, through and through, the villain of this story, no matter what the narrative tries to convince us of otherwise. I stood by that statement before and I stand by it even more so now. Unfortunately we're now at the point where Persephone herself has become a villain, corrupt by the same system she used to criticize.

And just like the letter and all its raw text admitting to Hades' faults and baggage and showing he's willing to take accountability, so too does the narrative itself slyly tell the ugly truth in between its lines: that love is not enough, that love is not the same as obsession, that power can corrupt even the purest of hearts - that love is enough, that you should pursue the one you desire until they're yours and only yours, that you should climb higher towards those in power above you until you have that same power in your hands.

Because you love the way it makes you feel and you want to feel that way all the time.

#oops this wasn't supposed to be this deep #it was literally just me wanting to point out a missing sentence in a panel from years ago #this is what happens when i eat too much LO food for thought at 3 AM #lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #next thing you know i'm drawing parallels between the narrative and hades' own delusions

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dreadfutures · 3 months

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Thanks, Brood!

I just want to say it's been really awesome to see everyone's self recs on my dash. <3 I feel like just a few years ago there was way more self-negging around all of us and it makes me feel warm and fuzzy when my friends and mutuals and acquaintances are proud of their hard work and creativity! I will be sure to spread that around in more inboxes too :)

My own five favorite fics that I've written are:

it ends, or it doesn't | A Felassan Fic written by youworeblue / @dreadfutures | illustrated by @adurna0-art Rating: T | Genre: Mystery | Length: 45k, complete

My favorite story I've written so far. Dragon Age with a Knives Out flavor. I can't give it a better pitch than @anneapocalypse did here, particularly: "Both a thrilling and tightly-paced murder mystery, and a moving and thoughtful piece about personal and cultural identity, confronting the past, and looking to the future." (Thanks, Anne 😭)

Chrysalid Rated: G | Cillian & Solas | Chapters: 9/9

An origin story for how Cillian, the DAI MP character who appears in like, maybe 2 war table missions, learned the path of the Arcane Warrior. A love letter to the monarch butterfly migration.

Death is an Open Door Rated: T | Male Mahariel & Nonbinary Mahariel | Length: 8k

Mahariel steps through an eluvian to begin the journey we hear about in passing during DAI. This was a gift for @ammoniteflesh about both of our Mahariels and how they are mirrors of each other.

the road seems too wild for mixing it with blues Rated: G | F!Lavellan x Solas | Length: 5k

Pure fluff, a happy ending for Lavellan and Solas in a world they're committed to improving together, on the ground, one interaction at a time. But in this fic? They just get to enjoy that world, together, without any pressures upon them.

And I debated whether to put Walkers of the Lonely Path or Comrades in Arms, Brothers in Broken Chains, or…my other favorites on this list... but DPDF is definitely in my top favorite fics I've written, so:

Dead Pasts and Dread Futures Rated: E | FLavellan x Solas, Gen | Length: 600k (incl. TBG: 900k, ongoing)

As the world ends, Ixchel is resurrected under mysterious circumstances and is sent back in time to the Conclave. Ixchel is furious, convinced of her own futility, and yet she cannot give up again. These are the stories of how she gets better.

more rambling about each of these...

it ends, or it doesn't | A Felassan Fic Stories about looking at the past (your own, in general, or in one's culture) and grappling with the good and the bad and trying to find the merit, strength, and identiy that resonates with you? They're my favorite to read, personally, and those themes find their way into most things I write. I feel like I really Did It in this one. And the inspiration for the story had me warm and fuzzy the whole way through: he environments had me looking at photos of the golden hills of my home as well as some of my favorite castles and temples across the world. I love writing a broken Felassan and his relationship to the ancient elves and to modern elves of all flavors. And the process of writing this in my own way and going back and forth with my artist partner for the fic was wonderful.

Chrysalid Cillian discovered the path of the Arcane Warrior by meditating in ruins; when the Breach appeared in the sky, he felt called to lend his skills to the fledgling Inquisition. That’s all we know of his path, as a background NPC in Dragon Age: Inquisition, who appears solely in a war table mission and in the Multiplayer addition. But how did he really get trained as an Arcane Warrior? Honestly. This was Divine Inspiration at its finest. It was summer; I was missing my college town, where monarch butterflies go as a colony on their migration, stopping there to rest. I kept seeing a few of them flying by my current location on their way south. And I had the whimsical thought: isn’t that magical? Then I thought: sure, magical butterflies would work for a story. But what do they lead to? I loved the experience of writing this, I love the idea I had, I love rereading it, and closing my eyes and thinking about the locations.

Death is an Open Door I was so excited to get matched with Faust for our fanfic server's annual OC Swap event, because any time I heard about Ghila Mahariel, I couldn't help but IMMEDIATELY think about how our Mahariels would interact together. Their relationships to Morrigan and Kieran; their different relationships to their Blighted blood and what the future holds for them; their different relationships to the Dalish religion; their different relationships to the possibility of a cure for the Blight. I really got a chance to dig into the dreamy, fairy tale quality that I love to write the most, AND both body and psychological horror which I also love. AND I got to write an actual Dalish fairy tale, basically, inside it all, which is some of my favorite stuff to write. And Faust liked it, and it always makes me feel so happy and warm and fuzzy to reread a fic where I know I managed to make someone (via their OC) feel seen/special in any way at all.

the road seems too wild for mixing it with blues PURE SELF INDULGENT FLUFF. I love building cities and cultures within them, and I was trying to capture a specific kind of summer getaway/stranger in a new place vibe that I love so much when I get to experience it myself. It transports me right to that: to the place I based Cumberland on, to the exact temperature of the nights, to the exact cafe that has that drink and those donuts. I smiled a lot while writing it and I smile a lot while rereading it. Appreciating each other, and every moment of living, and the world that they get to be in - that's what I want, in the end, for Ixchel and Solas.

Dead Pasts and Dread Futures People are probably really tired of hearing me talk about this one, and I feel the most self conscious about it, but. It really is one of my favorite things I've made. I genuinely love rereading it, I have loved writing it, I still love writing it. I think it comes across more shippy when it gets talked about but to me the core of it is Ixchel's relationship to hope, her own personhood, and to her friends (originally there were so many more & pairings before the tag limit was a thing, because man. They all have pretty big arcs with her) (like to the point where sometimes I feel bad for not being More Overwhelmingly Solavellan, as opposed to spending like 20 chapters at a time on Ixchel's relationship to a single other person, which it feels like I do a lot…). I started writing it as an outlet for feelings I couldn't contain or, what I thought at the time, survive. I was trying to tell myself a story that things could get better, at a time when I didn't really believe it myself. Hope is a choice. Belief is a state of being. - And I had the strength to find neither at the time. But since then I have managed to heal a lot through this fic, I have had lots of fun chasing down story beats that just interest me, incorporating teensy bits of lore and weaving them into the bigger tapestry of Thedas, and most of all, meeting so many people because of this fic. :)

#personal #fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #it ends or it doesn't #dead pasts dread futures #chrysalid #death is an open door #the road seems too wild for mixing it with blues #long post #navel gazing over my own fics time

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sideprince · 9 months

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It's good to know your strengths and weaknesses and drawing is definitely the latter for me, but I wanted to make some kind of "what might Eileen Prince have looked like" image so I used the portrait maker on azaleasdolls and came up with what her school photo might have looked like. I did a little bit of editing in procreate, mostly to her nose and eyebrows (it took ages and didn't come out quite how I wanted but just count yourself lucky I didn't try to draw this from scratch).

What I like about this is that, while in the text both Eileen and Severus are described as sallow and sour looking with heavy brows in a way that has negative connotations, these features are clearly not mutually exclusive with looking interesting or attractive. This image feels reasonably close to what's described in the books as far as I'm concerned, but if this was a real person I would be curious about them, not put off.

I feel like there's a problem in the Snapedom of confusing attractiveness with conventional beauty, so there's a lot of art that doesn't want to engage with the scrungly parts of Severus. His hair is stringy. His nose is hooked and large. He's thin. These may not be conventionally attractive features, but many people do find them attractive.

There are a lot of meta posts out there that talk about the racist elements of the gothic, romantic male character that Rowling put into Severus Snape. His skin may be sallow and pale, but his hooked nose is a semitic feature that signals otherness and the connotation is that this is villain-coded. Heavy brows, dark eyes, these are all semitic features that are put onto characters not meant to be liked in both gothic literature and the Harry Potter books. (And when I say "semitic"I mean "middle-eastern" ie. features often found on people of middle-eastern descent.) The sallow skin and thin figure imply poverty - even the Malfoys are described as pale, not sallow. Pale implies light skinned, while sallow implies sickly, unhealthy. It takes the romanticization out of the venerated pale skin of gothic literature's heroes and heroines.

Despite the amount of discussion on this that I've seen come and go on my dash, in posts with a lot of notes, I see so much Snape art that makes him look like a drawing on the cover of a romance novel. He's buff, he has a six pack, his nose is straight and sharp, his features are conventionally attractive in ways that go against the text. I'm not here to judge anyone who likes this (except the people relentlessly demanding images like this from AI bots and posting them ad nauseum, but that's because I'm judging them for using and posting AI generated images because it's theft). Fandom is about escapism, and if vanilla Snape is your kink, go forth and live it up. But maybe it's OK to ask yourself, why do I prefer this character when he looks like the idealized male instead of how he's written, if I love him so much? Maybe it's OK to use the safety of fandom to examine what might have been internalized that's biased and uncomfortable with The Other.

In a fandom centered around a character who was brave, heroic, brilliant, and above all, driven by love and loyalty to it, yet was presumed to be evil despite all his continuous efforts to save the hero - in other words, in a fandom centered around a character we understand had exceptional qualities yet was often villainized based on his appearance despite his actions, what is it that compels some fans to impose more conventional features onto Snape to consider him attractive? What does that say to all the other fans who don't have a Eurocentric, unattainably muscular and chiseled aesthetic, who have rallied around Snape because they find him loveable and see themselves in the character?

Again, I'm not judging. But I do think that if your preferred Snape is what I like to refer to as Fabio-Snape, it might be an interesting exercise to explore what you're drawn to and why.

#Eileen Prince

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starlightswordfight · 19 days

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FLUKUEY FRIEND SQUARE HEADCANONS BECAUSE THEY ARE BURNED INTO MY BRAIN FOREVER AND ALSO MY MORNING HAS BEEN WEIRD AND I NEED THIS

– they have matching bracelets. HAVE to start with that. it was actually patch's idea, which surprises people but he doesn't really care. they also don't really care that they're making friendship bracelets as grown ass adults, it's fun and they didn't get the chance to before so they're doing it now

– they have one matching set with their names, one with matching characters from the one (1) media they all have a common interest in, and one joke one

– dash carries around his fidget stuff that I mentioned in another post in a little bag! when they all hang out together it's useful to have, especially since most of his friends need it

– jin has headphones and will let the others borrow them for similar reasons. I imagine with characters like that, flukuey can get ... Loud

– nonbinary jin, trans dash, genderfluid molly. patch is cis as far as we know. mentioning this because it matches up with my irl friend group and I think that's awesome. accidental projection beam

– assuming flukuey's standard scheduling revolves around morning people, molly has the worst sleep schedule. jin has the best. jin waking up at around the time molly is going to bed, many such cases

– dash resident hype man. one of his friends does literally anything at all and he's there going "WOOOO YEAAAAH WOOOOOOOOOO"

– in terms of outings!! dash is VERY frequently the one suggesting plans and bringing things up first. everyone else will too on their own time, he just is the quickest to say Literally Anything that's on his mind ever at all

– jin typically is better with the planning side of it!! this is because they are SIGNIFICANTLY better with xer dandori than the other three L L L

– molly won't take pictures or do anything of the sort without asking or making it clear that she is -- that said, she really likes having things to look back on, and he gets A Lot of photos. most aren't posing or planned, they're candid. she likes how those turn out a lot more, they feel more real (and can also end up looking really funny)

– yk the thing with the friend group where one for the life of them CANNOT smile in pictures and they always look MAD. yeah that's patch he's not good with cameras but he tries

– patch is also the designated Evil Person Repellent. when the occasional rude (or worse) person inevitably does appear they're typically left alone anyway because patch is there

– jin and molly are (generally) the resident infodumpers. molly loves sharing his thoughts with people, and jin wants someone to talk to about their Space Adventures badly enough that it's ON xer id badge. yeah I noticed that. nothing gets by me (lie)

– patch and dash are (generally) the resident listeners. patch is a lot more attentive with it and retains the information, while dash likes hearing people talk and be happy but is a bit. well. let's justr say. distractible

– I like to think the other three watch molly's streams when they can. and hype her up so much also

– patch wins uno every fucking time and no one knows how or why

– "who's the one that always ends up with the entire deck in their hands" jin

#“jeremy they dont interact in canon” IIII KNOWWWWWW EYES GLOW RED #let me have this. the idea is fun to me and nobody else is going to expand on it so *i'm* doing it MYSELF #pikmin #pikmin 4 #pikmin headcanons #molly pikmin #dash pikmin #jin pikmin #patch pikmin #flukuey friend group from hell

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autisticbokutoenthusiast · 9 months

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ray's house headcannons

so i've been making nonstop theories about the layout of ray's house/mansion since episode 2 but thought id write them down. (i know that they probably didn't mean for the set to be taken literally but im bored and have time today so im gonna pick its appearances apart) I am taking all of whats presented to us literally because i think it'll be fun!

The Bar Room

i really didnt have a better way of referring to it so Bar Room it is. Now, i am starting with this since it is in the chunk of the house i consider to be "Ray's Rooms" at the time the show takes place (more on that later). This room is really only significant in two scenes:

The first time Sand goes home with Ray

Ray finding his mom's body

We see this room first in ep 2 2/4 when Ray pays Sand to come home with him and be his drinking buddy.

the above angles are important to me for introducing three things: the bar stools, the lamp, and the curtains

now we have this shot and followers who remember this post already know but i believe this is a framed photo of his mom on top of the liquor cabinet.

(side note: Im like 99% sure the print on top of the counter is of the Brooklyn Bridge, in Brooklyn NY so shoutout to Boston)

anyway the next time we see the Bar Room is in part 4/4 of the episode in a flashback.

based on what we see in the flashback i believe this to be the same room since you can see very similar details to what we see in part 2 of the episode. i also think this confirms that the Bar Room is indeed the entrance to Ray's Rooms (which i will scream about later)

The Record Room

next up is the Record Room, which also makes its first appearance in episode 2 and then also plays a significant role in episode 7 2/4

first I'd like to establish that 1. the Bar Room leads directly to the Record Room, but also that passageway leads to Ray's Bedroom.

the Record Room itself is pretty self explainatory, its a room designed to be a place to listen to the record player. as seen in the shelves of records and the wall prints of records.

things i found interesting: there are 3 more doors (one not pictured in the above photos) in this room that lead to unknown places, there seems to be another balcony, and also there truly are a bunch of records.

Ray's Bedroom

It is first seen in episode 3 1/4, again in ep 4 1/4 and 4/4 and then ep 7 2/4

in these photos we see a door on each side of the bed, a balcony on the left side, the same wallpaper that is in the Record Room, a coat rack for his button ups, and then also a few books whose titles i dont know. Also it lowkey looks like Ray is using 3 thick/firm pillows, i love my little prince. I highlighted this in the last photo but it looked a bit like the door to the left of the bed was a bit open, I personally believe these doors to be closets, I think it makes sense and I highly doubt he only owns button downs.

Mew's Mad Dash

I've saved these photos for their own section, but I think this moment is important for two things:

Confirming the layout of Ray's Rooms

Why he is going to different doors

The first shot we get is of a reflection of the lamp that sits in the corner of the Bar Room

pictured above: Mew enters through the Bar Room and into the Record Room

(i told you there were 3 doors) Mew's confusion at the doors leads me to three different theories:

He's never been here before and doesn't know his way around

He's been here before but forgot how to get to Ray's bedroom/ generally just doesn't know where Ray could be

He's been here before but entered through one of the three other doors in the Record Room

Here we see Mew enter a hallway that leads to the bathroom. important things: the door is open (i believe all the doors get closed by the people who work there until they are opened and left that way by Ray), Mew is facing away from the bathroom while looking for Ray, which implies there is something in front of him (i believe this to be the Bedroom), there is a mirror on a surface with a handle- I think this is the bathroom door left open, like the other door mentioned above, which reminds me of the glimpse we see of Ray's mother's body in a room where the doors seem to be open (idk what I mean by this besides just the sight of their bodies being found in the open, especially because of the vulnerable position his mom was in, does something to me, espeically especially because he is in the open but curled in on himself)

The Downstairs

We get limited glimpses of other parts of the house in ep 10

based on that first image and other ones i think that the circular railing we see in ray's ep 2 flashback is either very end of these stairs, or further down a circular hallway that overlooks the downstairs. Alternatively this could be a seperate stair case/area entirely.

i personally dont think this counter we see in the dining area is a kitchen, i think its too small compared to a size i'd expect based on what we see of the rest of the house and i don't really see aplliances. i would however see this as a contender for a second bar- like hear me out the cabinets are displaying fancy plates yes but on the counter itself are decanters and crystal glasses, it also the only time we see Ray outside of Ray's Rooms, and i think its because his Bar Room was recently emptied of its supply so he had to come to the other one. also im kinda obsessed with the massive tv in the dining room like majority of seats are at a bad angle to see it, this is the kind of set up they use in like meeting rooms. also there looks to be another chandelier in the room next to the tv.

The Outside

we really only get two shots of the Outside.

an interesting detail about this balcony is that, if we assume its the one in the Bed Room and not the one in the Record room, then the windows next to it probably belong to the Bar Room, which I assume has windows there unless the curtains were just decoration.

combing through behind the scenes footage confirms that 1. both sides of Ray's Bedroom have a balcony and 2. the Bar Room does lead to the Music Room which has the doors to Ray's Bedroom

Why I've said all this.

My personal headcannons based on these details is that

What we know as Ray's Rooms, orginally were his mom's. I personally cannot see having a big ass mansion and then deciding the perfect place for your kids bedroom is next to the Bar Room, but also, the Bar Room being where his mom dies and also the Record Room containing her personal collection makes me think that this is where she spent her time. I'd even say the Bed Room could have been hers as well.

I think it could be possible that the mystery doors in the Music Room and Bed Room are way's to get from Ray's Rooms from other parts of the house but because of how the Bar Room attaches to the hallway that leads to the main stairs I will assume Ray typically enters through the Bar Room as we saw him do with Sand in episode 2 and as Mew did in episode 4.

based on my above point I AM ALMOST CERTAIN THAT EVERYTIME RAY COMES HOME AND GOES TO HIS ROOM TO GET CHANGED OR GO TO BED HIS HAS TO PASS THE SPOT WHERE HE FOUND HIS MOTHERS BODY.

as I said earlier I think its likely the mystery doors in the Bed Room are closets, and I'd say something similar for the Record Room. In terms of the Bed Room I think one door leads to a big closet and the other leads to a room with a vanity/ place to get ready type thing. In the Record Room however, based on the only times i've been in big houses have been famous big houses turned into museums, one of those doors might be one used by the staff to get around the house (i think it would be fun for there to be secret hallways please let me have this). It could also be interesting if one led to another room that we haven't seen. What that room would be, I don't know I don't live in a mansion

actually what if there is a game room and you can get to from the Record Room but whose main entrance is somewhere else

Also, I said i think these used to be Ray's mom's rooms and i stand by that- I think she wanted a place to retreat to seperate from the other people in the house that it doesn't seem she chose to make a family with, I also think Ray takes over the rooms after she dies- not immidiately but maybe a few years after

I think Ray and his mom both leave all doors open and all lights on, in an attempt to make the house seem lived in and inviting- but the staff who work there are instructed to close everything up as they clean (i don't really know how cleaning staff in a place this big work tho tbh)

i think there is a seperate kitchen where they have they're own chef, i do not think Ray has cooked anything in his life ever

i think when Ray was born they lived in the house that becomes the hostel and when he's a young child they move into this house

i think Ray subconsiously took over the part of the house that is a living reminder of his mothers ghost as a form of self punishment and i think it is a necessary step in his healing to move out of those rooms but i think it takes him a while to get there

yeah thats all i have as of now, just wanted put down my thoughts

#only friends the series #only friends #ray pakorn #only friends ray #ray only friends #ofts #only friends meta #ofts meta #ofts ray

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connorswhisk · 3 months

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Loose Leaf

fic fill for @thecrusadercomrade !! thanks so much for requesting and i'm sorry it took so long fdjl;sajkl; hope u enjoy <3

also on my ao3

She probably draws him about a million times, over and over again in her tiny sketchbook with the cheap colored pencils and the slowly dulling pocket sharpener. Fighting walkers, splattering scarlet blood all across the white page. Riding a horse, with Clem on the back of the saddle right behind him, arms circled about his waist. A lot of those pages end up stuffed between the cracks of the dumpster lid (Clem’s not tall or strong enough to lift it fully on her own) because in her opinion, they’re just not so good. She doesn’t like them, and so she figures neither would Lee.

She draws him a million times. Over and over again. But he isn’t the only one to make an appearance in her little book.

– – –

The family is easy, probably the easiest thing there is to draw in the whole motor inn. Clementine’s had lots of practice drawing families, for school art projects and things like that, but it’s easier to draw people she knows are alive instead of the parents she doesn’t.

Kenny with his mustache and his hat, Katjaa with blonde hair that’s a little too bright because the only shade of yellow Clem has is lemon. And in between them, shorter than either but smiling bigger than both, is Duck. Clem has lots of fun dotting in the freckles all over his round, happy face; she thinks the stick-figure version of him looks very accurate.

(She considers adding a bunch of creepy-crawly spiders in the blank space beneath Duck’s feet, but ends up deciding that might be a little too mean.)

She gifts it to them, eager and proud at breakfast one morning. Kenny and Katjaa aren’t actually eating, Clem notices. Kenny eyes the granola bar his son is pigging out on with a pained expression on his face; Clementine quietly tucks her snack pack into her pocket, and though her stomach whimpers in protest, she resolves to eat it after. She can wait, just a little while longer.

Kenny looks at her like he has no idea what she’s talking about when she holds the page out in her tiny hand. “It’s like a family photo of you guys,” says Clem, slightly anxious. “Well, kind of…”

Kenny still says nothing. Clem tries not to take it personally - Lee doesn’t have to tell her so in hushed whispers just between the two of them, she knows Kenny’s been itching to leave the motel and the food situation definitely isn’t helping matters. Katjaa smiles, tired but kind, and carefully takes the drawing from her before the silence stretches out too long.

“Why, it’s lovely,” she says softly, angling it just so that Duck can see. “Look, Ducky, Clementine drew all three of us.”

Duck frowns. “Why did you make me have chicken pox? ”

“That’s not chicken pox,” Clem giggles. “Those are your freckles. ”

“Oh!” His teeth are crowded with leftover granola bits as he beams, big and wide and white. “Awesome!”

“Yes, it’s very nice.” Katjaa smiles again at her. “We’ll be sure to tack it up in the RV, right on the wall where everyone can see it. Right, Ken?”

Kenny sighs, distracted. “Yeah, yeah, that’s - that’s fine, honey.” He glances down at the paper for just a second, and his mouth twitches a little. “My mustache ain’t that big.”

“I wanna draw!” Duck exclaims, leaping to his feet. “Clem, can I borrow some paper and your pencils?”

“Ok,” Clem replies. “But you have to promise not to be too rough with them, or else they’ll break.”

“I promise!”

“You two stay in sight!” Katjaa calls after them as Duck dashes away, Clem fast in tow. It doesn’t look like it’ll rain, so maybe she’ll get out the chalk, too. Duck always likes playing with the chalk, or at least for as long as he likes playing with anything before he gets distracted again.

Once Kenny’s and Katjaa’s backs are turned once more, Clementine pulls the snack pack out of her pocket. She’s so hungry that the stale breadsticks and fake cheese are gone in mere seconds, and even then her tummy still growls, pathetic. Duck looks like he wants to ask her for a bite. She doesn’t offer any, and s he feels terrible about that but she’s pretty sure not eating would only make her feel worse.

(Years later and she still has it, even after all of them are gone.)

– – –

Doug’s always been nice to Clementine, and she’s glad Lee saved him. Carley was kind too, and pretty, but…Lee made a choice, which is something you have to do sometimes, she knows that now. Even if the choice isn’t exactly a fair one.

(She wonders what she would have done in the same situation, forced to pick between two strangers. She never can seem to come to any sort of conclusion.)

But Doug doesn’t treat Clem like she’s a silly little girl, not in the way some of the others do. He talks to her like she’s just another adult, and Clem likes that because if she can pretend that she is just another adult, maybe things won’t seem as scary as they really are, not anymore. Doug shows Clementine how the bell system he rigged works to warn them of movement nearby, and the faded old Uno pack he sometimes breaks out has seen Clem her fair share of sneaky, smirking wins against a befuddled Lee and a frustrated Kenny.

So Doug is another person that is very easy for her to draw. That yellow shade is still a little too lemon-y, but Clem adds some brown, blends it in a bit against the page the best she can, and maybe this time it looks a little closer to his actual hair color. She makes the big green sweater extra fuzzy (fuzzier than it is in real life) and adds a teeny laser pointer in Doug’s hand, shining its red beam directly into the eyes of an oncoming walker and blinding it.

Doug smiles when she gives it to him. “Wow,” he says. “I look badass.”

“Swear,” admonishes Clem.

Doug raises his eyebrows. “Does ass really count as a curse word?” The grin doesn’t leave his face. “This is super awesome, Clementine. Thank you.”

She nods. “I just thought…I just thought you might wanna keep it.”

Carefully, Doug folds the drawing in half, then into quarters, and finally into neat, creased eighths. “Knew I still carried this around for a reason,” he says, drawing his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and sliding the page inside it. “See, there you are. Now I’ll have it wherever I go.”

Clementine beams. “I like that,” she tells him, rocking back and forth happily on her heels.

(It’s still in his wallet, as far as she knows, the night that he dies. They leave his body on the side of the road, and they leave the drawing with him.)

– – –

Larry doesn’t like Lee, and he doesn’t like Kenny, or Duck, or…much of anyone, really. But he usually isn’t as cranky to Clem as he is with the others, and though she doesn’t know why, it’s enough to inspire her to give him a drawing.

He folds it, just like Doug did, tucking it into the breast pocket of his sweat-stained bowler shirt. “Reminds me of the ones my daughter used to make in school.” His voice isn’t hard, but it is still very gruff.

Above them, Lilly scoffs, adjusting her position on top of the camper van. “You never held on to those,” she accuses. “Why start now?”

“Times change,” says Larry offhandedly. “People change, ain’t you know that, girl?”

“Well,” Clem says, slow and unsure. “Well, I hope that you like it…”

“He loves it.” Lilly’s teeth are gritted hard enough to crack. “Don’t you worry about that, Clementine.”

Clem scurries away before their voices get too loud for her again. She doesn’t draw Larry anymore after that - it doesn’t feel right to.

(She sneaks it out of his pocket when Lee isn’t looking, after…after Kenny drops the salt lick. The paper is weathered and torn between her fingers and she pushes it to Lilly with shaking hands before she can think any more about it.

Lilly glares at her hard like she’s just sprouted some freakish second head, and Clementine lets go of the paper quick as a flash, sobs and runs back over to Lee.)

– – –

It feels more than a little obvious to draw Ben. He’s all alone, and scared, and no one at the inn fully trusts him yet. Lee warns Clem to stay frosty around him, just in case. But all Clementine sees is a boy, and even though he’s a lot bigger than Duck or her, he’s still very, very afraid.

She doesn’t really know how she should do it. Drawing him with his friends who died seems cruel, and she doesn’t know enough about Ben to know what he likes to do, or what he used to like to do.

So she draws him in a big field, sitting under an apple tree, a shiny red delicious in his hand. Clem’s parents once would take her to a field just like that, on the way to Grandpa’s house through all the Georgia farmland. Everybody’s different, but she figures that Ben might find that sort of memory pretty and peaceful, too.

“You’re…Clementine, right?” he asks her unsurely as she approaches him at his spot up against the motel’s grubby brick walls. The grave Lee and Kenny dug for his coach is still fresh and loamy with loose, dark earth.

She nods. “I made this for you,” she says, thrusting the paper forward and into Ben’s hands. “It’s ok if you don’t like it, I won’t get mad.”

He sort of blinks at the drawing, like he isn’t super sure what it is he’s looking at. “Is this…me?”

Clem frowns. She thought that that was obvious. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh.” Ben looks up at her, then back down at the page, then at her again. “Um…thanks. It’s really - good. It’s really good.”

“I said I wouldn’t get mad.” She sticks her hand back out, expectantly. “Give it back if you don’t want it.”

“I - I want it!” Ben’s voice cracks. “I do want it, it’s really good. Thank you, Clementine.”

She nods again. “If you ever wanna draw with me and Duck, I still have a lot of paper left.”

“I don’t know…” Ben chews his lip, like he thinks he’d look stupid for hanging around the little kids. “I’ve never been that great at art.”

“Duck’s awful,” reports Clementine happily. “No one will care!”

Ben’s lips wiggle a little like he wants to smile. “Really?”

“Really,” she says.

And no one does.

(Clem doesn’t know what happened to Ben’s drawing in the end. Maybe she doesn’t want to.)

– – –

“I like to draw everyone.” She adds a finishing touch to her figure’s glasses, before presenting the end product with a slight flourish. “See, that’s you!”

“Hey, it is.” Mark grins. He hasn’t been here long, but he’s funny, and any new face is an excuse to use something new to sketch. “Were you in art class at school or something?”

“Yeah,” Clem chirps, flipping to the next available page in her book for a blank slate. “It was a lot of fun. I liked to paint a lot, but I don’t have any paint right now. So I use my pencils and sometimes the sidewalk chalk.”

Mark’s dirty fingernails tap-tap-tap on top of the wooden picnic table. “I used to take art classes too,” he says, and his voice sounds kinda sad. “Before I joined the Air Force…”

“They didn’t let you draw in the planes?” asks Clem, choosing from her pencils a bright red, her most sickly green. “I rode a plane once. It was long. I drew everything I saw outside the window to pass the time.”

Mark shakes his head, laughing a little. “If I wasn’t flying the plane, I was busy doin’ somethin’ else with it. Didn’t really have a whole lotta time for hobbies.”

“That’s lame.” Clem looks up at him. “You should draw more now. Since you have the time.”

“I - I guess that’s true, isn’t it?” Mark shrugs, and glances back down at the tabletop. “Whoa. Whatcha makin’ now?”

Clementine doesn’t stop what she’s doing. She presses down harder with her muddy brown, dirt and death and decay.

“A walker,” she answers, and when she’s done with it Mark is gone and his picture is left behind, fluttering in the breeze.

Clem stuffs it back into the binding of her sketchbook. Even if he doesn’t want it, she’ll keep it around. She likes the way she shaded in the darkness of his leather jacket, the little shines on the lenses of his glasses.

(Mark pretty much avoids her completely after that. Clementine wonders if he’s drawing on his own, the things he always wanted to. She decides that maybe she doesn’t quite care, and she feels horrible after the farm.)

– – –

Her mom and dad. Sandra. Carley, Glenn, Shawn and Hershel, her friends at school, her Grandpa, her little cousins, her teachers, Mrs. Earnshaw from across the road, Sailor Moon and She-Ra and Bugs Bunny and other cartoon heroes to help come and save the day.

These are the things she draws in between, and she has no one to share them with.

– – –

She actually never gives Lilly one, though she draws her many, many times. She’s a little too scared, a little too chicken-shit (as Duck likes to say) to actually go through with it. Lilly hadn’t been happy when Clem had given a drawing to Larry and so it doesn’t seem likely she’d want one of her own.

But she’s scary, and sharp, and Clementine draws her a lot. Filling in and out of the margins of her notebook, angry and shouting and mean. A few times, she leaves her book face-open on top of the picnic tables, in the hopes that Lilly might wander by, take a curious peek and see herself reflected back in all the pages.

She never does wander by, so eventually, Clem stops trying it, and that’s all there is to that.

(Years later, Clementine stares a woman she once thought she knew hard in the eyes and imagines taking a match to those drawings, each and every one at a slow and burning time.)

– – –

He isn’t the only one to make an appearance in her little book. But in the end, the one she draws the most is still and always Lee.

#my writing #twdg #twdg fanfic #twdg clementine

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