#I'm going to do bad things to my characters and not a soul can stop me 😃 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munsonsreputation · 3 months

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i'm falling in love, again

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [6.7K]

warnings: no use of y/n, friends to lovers, infidelity (reader's ex), characters are in their early 20s, modern!au (they've got cellphones and text messages okay!!!), cursing, some angst w/ fluff ending.

summary: you thought the plane was going down, but somehow, someway, all the fates and all the stars aligned, and now you were lost in labyrinth of Steve Harrington’s mind forever.

“Hey doll,” Steve greeted softly, holding out a bunch of flowers towards your figure that stood slouched against the wooden doorway, sadness filled orbs meeting his.

You pouted deeply, eyes brewing with tears that blurred him out before you blinked and set them loose. He made a sound, sighed and tsking before he finally closed the space and wrapped you up in his arms, letting you fall against him while you wept into the crook of his neck.

“H-hi Steve.” You croaked, fingers sinking into his back, trying to anchor yourself as he rubbed your skin up and down attempting to sooth the biting warmth that swarmed your body.

Pulling away slightly to look down at your tear-stained face, he gave you a tight smile and gripped you a little tighter.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” He suggested.

You nodded, pulling yourself away from him and swiping your cheeks with your fingers, letting him step into your apartment watching as he locked the door shut and toed off his shoes.

It was emptier than usual, missing footwear from the shoe rack and lonely pegs of the key holder that used to hold another’s. Your ex had finally come around to pick up his things that were left behind. Even if it was a month of separation and him overseas preparing you to see him, it sucked the soul out of your body when he knocked and stood on the other side waiting for you to let him in now that the locks were changed and his spare was no use.

“Sorry for the mess,” You sniffled, gesturing pathetically around the disheveled area, still trying to get rid of everything that reminded you of him and the things that he left behind.

He shook his head, setting the flowers down on the kitchen table and walking over to you. You hated crying in front of him mostly because he hated seeing you so sad, but you couldn’t help what you were feeling inside.

“Don’t apologize. I’m never gonna judge you.” He reminded you never wanting you to feel bad for feeling how you did.

His hands fidgeted with your fingers, rubbing comforting circles over your skin, hoping to get the slow trail of tears to stop pouring and your breathing to even out.

“What do you wanna do?” He proposed, speaking so delicately, careful and considerate, “I can help you get rid of whatever you want out or we can sit down and talk, or we don’t have to talk at all. Whatever you want…I’m here.”

The truth is, Steve was always there through the good, the bad, the ugly, and the stunning. He was one of your closest friends who saw you through and through everything and no matter what, he always made it clear that the second you needed him or anybody, he would be there.

He was the first one to officially meet your ex before he even asked you to be his girlfriend. It all happened when you went on your first date that was soon running a little too late into the evening. Steve was sitting by himself in the corner of the pizzeria as per your request just in case your date turned out to be horrible and you needed a convenient way out.

Three taps of your foot against the tiles meant, “please get up and get me out of there,” and so when he saw you do just that, he didn’t hesitate to stand up and ��run into you” by coincidence.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” Steve beamed, holding his arms out wide as you smiled and stood up from your seat, embracing him in a hug.

“Hey Steve!” You greeted, pulling away and turning to your date.

“This is my friend, Steve! We actually live in the same apartment complex.” You explained, watching as they both shook hands and Steve nodded towards him.

Steve snapped his fingers, pointing at you as if he remembered something. “Don’t forget that maintenance is shutting off the water at 2 in the morning—that leak is still going at it.” He cursed, shaking his head.

You gasped, nudging his shoulder. “You’re so right! I totally forgot about that.”

Passing your date an apologetic look, you picked up your purse and slung it over your arm.

“I’m so sorry, but I think I should head home. I definitely want to shower before the water gets shut off for god knows how long.”

He stood up, nodding her head, and gesturing out the windows, “Sure thing! Did you want me to drop you—”

Steve cut him off, shaking his head and draping his arm over your shoulders.

“I think we could walk together, just makes sense since we live in the same place and it’ll save you some gas.” Steve assured him, as you nodded in agreement and said your goodbyes.

It wasn’t long before your arm hooked over his and you two were walking the busy streets back to your apartment complex only a good ten minutes away. You and Steve often walked together to do groceries, get late night pizza, or just to get out of your apartments for a while. He never let you walk alone though… that was always his rule.

“Did he say something stupid?” Steve suspected, peering over at you.

You shook your head, silently continuing to walk with him.

“Is he not funny?” He tried again.

You laughed this time, pushing against him gently as he nearly tripped over his own feet.

“He wasn’t not funny.” You chided.

He wanted to beg to differ, seeing as though you spent most of the date nodding and smiling, not much laughter going on, but maybe he was just reading too much into it. But he tried to think up what could have made you want to cut the date short and head back home thirty minutes earlier than you were supposed to.

“Do you not find him attractive?” He said once more.

Your lips curled, eyes shooting up to think to yourself as you neither shook your head nor nodded, just simply shrugging.

“He’s great, I had fun… I just don’t know where this is gonna go.” You pointed out, stopping at the crosswalk.

He leaned over you, fist knocking into the button, waiting for the light to turn red.

“Where do you want it to go?” He met your eyes, staring into them deeply, hoping to get a glimpse of the future, yet all he could see was the slight reflection of himself.

You smiled unknowingly, taking a deep breath and letting your shoulder fall.

“We’ll see.” You whispered, tugging him along through the crosswalk.

Two piles were made in the middle of your living room: trash and donate. You and Steve went through boxes of stuff your ex had left behind, clothes, old records, knick knacks — everything that he had left for you to deal with, as if breaking your heart wasn’t enough.

“Why did he always dress like he was in boarding school?” Steve cackled, folding up a pair of slacks that added to the already tall pile of dress clothes that would be going to the Salvation Army.

You giggled, sifting through the rest of the stuff you had set aside, and hid in the back of your closet, hoping to avoid until now.

“He was really going for that stuck up, private school, douchebag look I guess.” You scorned, huffing as you chucked a meaningless valentines card into the trash bag.

You didn’t care for keeping anything from him even just for memory's sake — if anything you wanted to burn him out of your memory and forget that he ever even existed to begin with.

“Well, on the bright side, someone else is gonna be wearing these clothes to their first professional interview, but hopefully whoever it is isn’t such a jackass.” Steve scoffed, moving the pile aside to make space for the rest of the things.

“Yeah, let’s hope.” You breathed, reaching the bottom of the box, plucking out the white envelope that laid by itself.

You froze for a second, throat tightening up and your heart thumping against your chest a little stronger. It had been the thing you found that confirmed your suspicions that your ex wasn’t being as loyal as he was claiming to be. In fact, he had been sharing his devotion to another woman… one that you thought was just a friend from work, though you should have read the signs way before then.

“You okay?” Steve furrowed his brows at the sudden silence, turning to see you go rigid while you stared at the piece of paper.

The front of it was marked with her initials and his in a big red heart, encasing their names like it was some kind of holy matrimony. The other side stained with her red lipstick marks that she had left behind. The contents of the letter: a confession of her love for him — how she couldn’t believe she had gotten so lucky to find someone whom she got to see every day even if it was during boring meetings and long nights at the office.

Your heart felt like it had dropped from its cages right down to your gut, a sort of free falling feeling similar to the rise of an elevator that would come plunging down. You wanted to be in denial, re-reading the letter over and over again hoping that maybe your mind was seeing things that they weren’t supposed to — but that was the joke of it all.

You weren’t supposed to see it, but you did.

You felt the rise, quickly taking you up to the floor that you were supposed to be on, only to be left hugging yourself, not even being given a warning to brace the crash.

“I—It’s the letter.” You let out, swallowing the lump in your throat, eyes staying glued to the floor as you tossed it aside.

Steve was the first to know about it, too. You had called him, practically speechless not knowing how to go about it. He swore the first five minutes of the phone call was him asking you if you were alright and if you were still there — nothing could have prepared him for what you were about to say next.

“I…I think he might be cheating on me.” You whispered, closing your eyes, doing your best to not take it out of proportion.

Steve just jeered, puffing out a ridiculous laugh. “Why do you think that? How could he ever cheat on someone as amazing as you? I think you might be overthin—”

“I found a letter.” You confessed, and he quickly shut up then the line went silent for a few seconds.

“W-what kind of letter? I-I mean, what does it say?” He stammered over his words, still trying to grasp what was happening.

“A love letter.” You cracked, taking a harsh breath, rising up from your place on the floor to get as far away from it as possible to somehow make it feel like it wasn’t real.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve rushed the apology out.

A shuffle sounding over his voice as you let out a sob and paced your apartment panicked and distraught.

“What do I do? I—I never imagined this…never in a million years. I don’t know what to do, Steve… please, tell me, what can I do?”

You were begging, trying to make sense of the situation, even trying to see it through when you both knew there was no going back from here.

Steve wouldn’t let you do that to yourself.

A knock sounded on your door, interrupting your tears as you choked, wiping them off your cheeks, pulling the phone away from your ear slightly. You unlocked it, opening it a bit only to be met with him on the other side. He caught his breath, pushing the door open with a gently hand.

“I don’t know, but right now, I’m here okay? I’ll be here as long as you need.”

Steve stayed over that night, holding you in your arms as he read the letter to himself, trying to understand why that son of a bitch could do something so cruel to you. And when your phone went off with a text message from him, saying he’d be spending the night at the office doing paperwork ahead of the big meeting the next morning — Steve was the one who texted back for you.

You both knew he was lying, spending the night at her place instead.

It took everything in Steve to not blow up, to pounce on the moment to tell him that you had found the letter and figured everything out. That he best not even bother to come home at all because you’d be throwing him out.

But he resisted… and he always did until you were ready.

He resisted the next day when you told him to go home and get some rest after he had spent the night worrying about you and soothing you back to sleep when you would wake with the nightmares of your boyfriend and his mistress.

He resisted when you told him that you’d figure out a way to break up with your him soon, even when he knew you were holding out.

He resisted when he came to check up on you a few days later, only to be met with your boyfriend answering the door, him and his stuff still there.

He resisted when you and your friends went out for dinner, and you had dropped the bombshell on them, and could say nothing when they asked if you had broken it off already.

He never understood why you waited so long to call things off, when deep down you knew how wrong the situation was. He tried to put himself into your shoes, to imagine what you must be feeling inside that made you want to stay and be tolerated instead of celebrated. But he couldn’t feel it. He only wished you could see yourself from his eyes, then maybe you’d see it a little clearer.

That you didn’t need to stay in the footnotes or the bylines of his life, when Steve was right there, so ready and willing to make you his temple, his mural, and his sky.

But he sat and watched you until you were ready to let go — until you pulled the dagger out and lost the weight of the person who was holding you back and taking advantage of your love.

He swiped the letter away, tucking it within the folded clothes to get it out of your sights. He scooted closer to you, a tender hand coming to cradle your head and let you rest it on his shoulder.

“Do you think she knew about me?” You marveled aloud, sniffling as you grazed up at him.

He didn’t answer, just letting his fingers pull your hair behind your ears, tucking them away.

“She had to have known, right?” You stared at him, hoping he would have the answers that you’d been longing to find even after all this time.

But Steve wasn’t an expert on all this. He didn’t want to fill your head with narratives that he didn’t know were exactly true; he knew it would only make you spiral with the would’ve, could’ve, should’ve’s, but to quite honest, there was nothing that you could have done to fix it and no answer Steve could have given you to change the past.

“He didn’t deserve you. I know that much.” Steve whispered, lifting your hand in his, keeping his response short with something that he knew was sure.

You squeezed against his digits, threading your fingers through his, letting the both of you stay hand in hand on your living room floor.

“Why wasn’t I enough for him?”

He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath in keeping his eyes on yours, “Because he was an idiot not satisfied with the best he had in front of him.”

Steve knew a lot about boys. After all, he once was one of them — stupid, self-centered, ignorant, and most of all ungrateful. He lived life like everything and everyone was replaceable, a kind of numbness that he had garnered since he was a little boy following the footsteps of his dad and just trying to make him proud by being a reflection of him.

Nancy Wheeler changed that for him, his first love, such a lovely experience that changed his life for the better. But it costed him losing her too. He could never step close to Jonathan Byers, the one who was man enough to love Nancy the way she wanted… the way Steve never could.

It stung for a long time. Lots of hope that maybe one day Nancy would love him again, and more hopelessness knowing that she was irrevocably in love with Jonathan and he would have hated for her to only see him in his eyes knowing her heart always belonged to him.

The heartbreak could have made him envious at the world, wanting to lash out like a wounded animal and get revenge on the entire world like some sort of villain, but it did the exact opposite.

He took it in stride even when some days were harder than the rest. There was a community of love around him, and while it wasn’t romantic, it was enough for him to see it through and know that one day when he met the one, he wouldn’t let himself let her pass by.

You released his hand, smoothing the top of his with yours as you put on a small smile taking your head off of his shoulders.

“I’m gonna make us a drink… and thank you for being here for me.” You spoke gratefully, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

He stayed there for a second, watching you closely, trying to figure out if you were running away from talking about it or if you were just over it by now. He crossed his fingers that it was the second option; he wanted you to be over it, to not be so affected and hurt anymore knowing that you were always the better half, the one who didn’t lose anything because you already had everything you needed inside of your heart.

But he also knew it tended to get like this — thoughts so loud, presence so distant, you were a world away while he was there hoping you’d find your way back home soon.

“Fuck him, he’s a piece of shit who never deserved you!”

The nightclub was so chaotic, bright lights, booming music, even louder friends who were trying to get you to feel a little better about the breakup. Nancy and Robin had arranged the night out for you with the best of intentions, seeing as though you had spent every day since the breakup inside the apartment that you used to share with him.

It didn’t help that you broke things off right before he had to go out of town for a work, all of his things still stayed where they were, not enough time for him to find a new place or ask a friend to stay with them for a while. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been if he was still there physically.

You gulped down the shot, pinching your eyes closed when the liquid went down with a burn before being followed by the sourness of a lime. The girls cheered around you, nudging your shoulders and placing kisses on your head affectionately.

“C’mon! Let’s go dance!” Robin whistled, grabbing your hand and attempting to pull you to the dance floor with her and Nance, but you stayed grounded, just barely glued to the seat.

You flashed her a reassuring smile and waved her off to the dance floor.

“You guys go ahead! I’ll meet you there in a little…I just need some water.” You called out loud enough through the music and they both nodded, shimmying into the disco lights.

Steve tapped his fingers against the tabletop, sipping on his Coke, no alcohol added. He volunteered to be the designated driver for the night and of course, honorary body guard if anyone messed with you guys. You didn’t know if he’d want to spend the night practically babysitting three girls, but you were glad he was there nonetheless.

“You having fun?” Steve leaned over so you could hear him better.

You nodded instantly, though there was a strain in your features. Eyes shining with a glaze over them and your smile felt like it was rehearsed, something you had spent time in the mirror trying to get right so that it was believable past the frown you’d been wearing.

He looked at you unconvinced, reaching under the table to hold your hand in his, “You can tell me the truth, doll.”

“I just…” You looked around, hoping that your friends were looking at you and sure enough they were too busy dancing to the beat of the music having fun like you were supposed to be doing right then. But you definitely didn’t want to dump it on them, seeing as though they did this for you and didn’t mean any harm.

“I, I hate that everybody expects me to bounce back, just like that.” You snapped your fingers with a clack, “I want to forget about it and move on, I really do, but I just can’t do it overnight you know?”

He nodded understandingly, thumbing over your knuckles, “I know what you mean, but it only hurts this much right now because it’s raw and fresh… one day you’re gonna wake up and it won’t hurt as much.”

“I wish that day would come sooner.”

“It will,” He reassured you, squeezing your hand three times, “But what about tonight you just pretend?”

“Pretend?” You looked at him uncertainly.

“Pretend like you’re over it, or just pretend like he never even existed? Go out there and have fun and pretend like you forgot about him, just for tonight.” He told you, gesturing over to the dance floor of people who were probably doing the same.

“You think that’ll work?” You rose your brows, and he snickered, shrugging lightly.

“Won’t know if you don’t try,” Steve whistled.

“Come with me?” You tilted your head before taking the last shot on the platter.

You let it burn, not bothering with a chaser until he pushed his Coke towards you, coaxing you to take at least a sip before nodding his head with a sly smile.

“I’m following your lead, babe.”

Steve was sober, yet with his hands intertwined in yours he felt drunk on love. Laughing so hard, his cheeks hurt as he moved with you, nonstop jumping, screaming, and dancing to the music that resounded through the speakers. Even in the neon lights of the club, nothing shined as bright as you. He would do anything you wanted in order to see you this happy, even if it meant breaking his back to make you break a smile.

He stayed on that dance floor until you were tired and needed to catch a breath. His hand stayed in yours as he drove Nancy and Robin home. He stayed and held your hair back when you threw up in the toilet. And he stayed with you in his arms on your living room couch as you cried at the haunting memories until you fell asleep.

It felt like no one could put you back together, not even yourself, but Steve was the one holding onto you during those times, and he always stayed — even now.

He tossed out the trash bags into the dumpster, placing the donated ones in the trunk of his car to deal with tomorrow. Two vintage VHS tapes sat in the corner of the trunk, something he thought maybe you both could enjoy for the rest of the day.

“I found these.” He wiggled them in the air, locking the front door shut. “I was supposed to return them yesterday, but I’ll just do it when I get back to work on Monday.”

You strided over, swapping the tapes for his drink: Coke with a splash of triple sec. Inspecting the tapes, you moped, looking up at him.

“These are both rom-coms.” You grumbled, taking them towards the living room nonetheless, him following behind you.

Steve muttered out an ‘sorry’ before falling back onto the couch.

“They’re El’s. She gave them to me to return because she didn’t want to bike all the way there. But we don’t have to watch any of them. We can just sit and talk if you want?”

You snorted, setting them down near the player just in case you both decided to watch them later. “About how pathetic I am for still letting him get to me?”

“You’re not pathetic.” He sat the glass down on the coffee table, patting the cushion beside him.

“I feel like I should be over it by now.” You retorted, tossing yourself beside him, slumping into the cushions.

“It’s not that easy especially when you were in love with him.” Steve pointed out, trying to sway you to give yourself more grace.

“I want to believe that he loved me as much as I did him, but I think that would mean I’d be lying to myself.” You admitted, shaking your head at yourself and looking down at your lap while you twiddled with your fingers.

“You don’t think he loved you?” He sought, bringing his hand towards your knee, rubbing comforting circles around it.

You shook your head, scoffing towards yourself, “I don’t even think I know what it feels like to be loved by a man in that sense. I don’t think he saw me or felt that way for me.”

“Why do you think that?”

You shrugged, thinking back to the contents of the letter, the swooping words that had been engrained into your mind like a cursed image you would forever be stuck seeing every time you closed your eyes.

“Because he never showed it, really. That letter… she said that he’d bring her flowers to the office, leave her favorite coffee on her desk with a little note, bring her an extra sandwich when she forgot her lunch…”

You rolled your eyes weakly, cursing in your mind knowing you were the one who made those sandwiches every night and packed them up for him to take, only to give it to the girl he was cheating on you with.

“It’s those little things that I never got. Those small details of the effort he never gave to me.” You pinched your fingers together, half hating that you were revisiting these feelings again and more so loathing that you were dumping it all on Steve.

He gave you a comforting look, nodding for you to go on knowing you had so much to say, and he’d stay here all night until you got it all out of your system. You bit on your lip, shaking your head as you tried to gathering what you’d been feeling.

“The worst part is, I—I feel like I gave him all the best parts of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever love like that again.” You sounded disappointed in yourself, like you had given up on your fairytale happy ending that you always wanted.

Steve’s face twisted, eyebrows pulled together, and a heavy frown playing on his lips.

“Don’t say that.” He scolded tenderly, hating that you amounted yourself to that.

“It’s true,” You laughed so sure of yourself, “I don’t think I have it in me to expect someone to love me the way I really want them to.” You threw your hands into your lap, turning to look out the window.

Steve couldn’t let you live with that thought in your head any longer. He didn’t know when you starting believing that, but he’d be damned if he let you think that your happiness was over just because one guy did you bad. If he could and if you would let him, you would realize that happily ever after was right in front of you the whole time.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out.

“What if that someone already does?” Steve clutched your hands, pulling himself closer to you, knees knocking into each other.

Your eyes snapped back to his, staring at him puzzled by the sudden sanguine of his voice, “What?”

He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath as he spoke it out loud once again — this time a little clearer in his phrasing, needing to get this right.

“What if there’s someone out there who doesn’t need to be taught how to love you because they already do?”

His voice was sure of himself, accompanied by a bit of nervousness that only you could decipher as him trying not to get tongue tied.

“What are you saying?” You looked between his eyes, searching for an answer yet only seeing a reflection of yourself clouding his irises.

“That I’m in love with you.” He blurted out without a moment's hesitation.

You stared at him motionless, not knowing if he meant it in the way you thought he did. For all you knew, he could have been referring to the friendship aspect of your relationship. You wanted to be in denial once more, knowing this couldn’t be what you thought it was.

“Steve…” you whispered, hand going slack against his, clearly taken aback.

He didn’t let you let him go, covering your intertwined hands with his free one. Your pulse was practically beating in his palms, the blood rushing through your body in a surge and your heart beating with a rapid thumpthumpthump. You could feel his hands shaking, his chest rising quicker with each second that passed with him trying to gather his words.

“I’m not just saying this. I mean it with everything inside of me.” He promised you, letting his hand release yours only to grip your wrist and bring them to his beating heart.

Despite it all — the nerves and everything that should have shut his body down — his heart stayed steady, beating in sync with yours. He gulped thickly, dropping your hands back to your lap as he stood and paced the small space between your coffee table and the couch.

“I—I’ve been in love with since I could remember you walking into Family Video and running into me and helping me pickup the tapes while you apologized profusely. I’ve known that I have loved you since forever, but I…I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you because I was terrified that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

He halted in front of you, catching his breath hoping you were able to at least understand some of the contents of his ramble, not getting lost in it.

Your shoulders rose with a deep breath you took in. “Why didn’t just—”

“I tried! And I was going to!” He exclaimed swiftly, raking a hand through his hair and tugging in frustration towards himself, because he felt as if he could have prevented this — you getting hurt.

He slowly took his seat next to you, elbows resting on his knees as he focused his sights forward not knowing if he could bear to look into your eyes as he spilled the rest of what he had been keeping inside for so long.

“But after your first date with that idiot I wanted you to tell me that there was something wrong…that you didn’t like him at all. I was gonna swoop in and say that maybe I could make it up to you and finally take you out on a date, but I didn’t because turned out you actually liked him.”

Your heart stopped, chest rising and falling so slowly you thought you could faint. But how could you when Steve was still there confessing his undying love for you?

“I didn’t want to get in between the two of you because it wouldn’t be fair, no matter how much I feel inside for you. I didn’t want to rob you of what could’ve been between you and him.” He swallowed, hanging his head low.

You wished he had stolen your heart and never let it be tainted with the hands of someone who was only going to drop it and hurt you. You wished that he didn’t wait and had been so considerate to the other party, when in reality he was holding back because of you… because he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.

“Y-you don’t understand how hard it’s been for me to watch you be treated like a second option, while I stand there and in my head you’ve always first. I…I don’t know why I waited so long to tell you. I’m sorry.” He said hoarsely, head lifting to glance at you where you faced him still reeling from it all.

“Don’t apologize, Steve.” You sighed, shaking your head and placing a soothing hand on his shoulder.

He wiggled under your palm, grunting to himself, “No I have to, because god, maybe I could’ve saved you from that piece of shit and what he did. If I would’ve just spoken up and told you that I’m in love with you sooner, things could have been different.”

Maybe he was right, that if he would have said something after that date, things wouldn’t have gotten this far. But perhaps it was fated, the way that it hurt so much at the time and how he thought he would have to spend his whole life getting over you knowing it was going to be impossible.

Break up, break free, break through, break down.

“Things can be different now.” You murmured, jaw trembling at the notion you just let out.

He sat up calmly, beaming into your eyes. “It can?”

You nodded assuringly, taking his hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it three squeezes knowing this was going to be a long road, but you were willing to take it with him.

“You know my number by heart. You come and water my plants when I’m staying late at work, and if I’m lucky, which most times I am, you leave me dinner in the fridge.” You told him, watching as a small smile spread across his face.

Steve did things that friends didn’t always usually do. He was the one who came over and changed your locks for you to save you the stress of not knowing when your ex would show up eventually and let himself in. He was the one who spent hours watching videos on how to do it himself, going back and forth from the hardware store to get everything he needed. He didn’t even let you help, shooing you off to lie in bed and get the rest you had been missing, all the while he made sure you were going to be okay.

He knew it wasn’t going to stop him from eventually coming back, but it was enough to at least give you a warning, something that you deserved after all of it.

“You know when I’m lying and instead of trying to pry me out of it you get me to talk about how I’m feeling.”

Steve was never accusatory when it came to you. He never wanted to shine the light on something you were trying to keep hidden in order to stop him from worrying about you — he knew you had the best of intentions. But he knew he should’ve been the least of your worries. He would stare at the ceiling with you, not saying too much or reading too deep into things, as he just wanted to help you let it all out — melancholy and all.

You took a deep breath, bringing your joined hands into your lap, shaking it mildly, “Y-you care about me so much so that you pick up every call before the second ring, and you…” pausing, you smiled up at him in awe, giving into the feelings and setting yourself free.

“You love me so much that you almost thought you lost the love of your life.”

Sitting eyes wide opened, Steve only had one thing stuck in his mind — you were the love of his life, the bullet that you never were, the thing that he didn’t dodge and even if you were, he’d let you pierce through his heart knowing at least it was you that got him at the end.

“W-what?” He buzzed, swinging his head, hoping he wasn’t reading you wrong.

“I’m falling in love with you, Steve.” You professed, eyes filled with sincerity and longing.

You pursed your lips, shaking your head at yourself, going on with your words.

“I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner, but I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life, and when I met him… a piece of me died because I wasn’t with who I was supposed to be with. Like I wasted all my love on him when you were right in front of me all along.”

It made perfect sense that every time you tried to search for something in his eyes you only saw yourself, not just in the reflection sense, but deeper than that. Past the irises and clouds of hazel, you could tell he was always looking at you, even in a room of faces that in his eyes were blurred into nothing when you were before him.

And like you, when Steve looked in your eyes he saw himself. The way that you would always find him in a crowd before anyone else. He was the first sight you wanted in your views and the last, if anything were to happen to you. Every time you met his, it felt like coming home, a sort of familiarity that even your apartment couldn’t sum up.

Steve shook his head at you, bringing his free hand up to your cheek.

“You didn’t waste all of it… I know you’ve got some left in you.”

You laughed lightly, leaning into his touch as you hummed. “For you, I do.”

“You can love again, let me show you that you can,” He promised, his voice never breaking, a vow that he was ready to make and destined to keep.

Like clockwork, his hands squeezed your three times, and you nodded, knowing he was with you on that road and he wasn’t going to leave you stranded. You could trust him… you always could.

His forefingers held your chin, your eyes fluttering shut, feeling his breath fan against your face.

Oh no, I’m falling in love again.

Your faces slotted into each other, leaning in closer and closer until you felt his lips on yours. Plush skin, brushing against your lips, moving gently together and there you were afraid that it wasn’t going to last… that this was too good to be true.

Oh no, I’m falling in love again

You felt the rise of the elevator, the takeoff on the runaway, the anticipation that settled in before you let it take you wherever it wanted. His hands cupped your cheeks, yours wrapping around his neck, the two of you not daring to leave each other just yet.

Oh, I’m falling in love

Your hearts were beating out of your chest’s, the thumps resounding in the air through your eardrums, letting it be the only thing you could hear. There was no crashing, no turbulence coming through to you — no need to brace yourself for an impact that wasn’t coming.

“I love you,” you whispered breathlessly against him, foreheads pressed together as you both opened your eyes and stared into each other.

“I knew you could.” He beamed, pulling you back to him as you giggled into another kiss that would be many of a lifetime.

You thought the plane was going down, but somehow Steve turned it right around — this time the love would last… just like that.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: this somehow turned into a 6k fic when it was supposed to be a small little blurb...oopsies!!! anyways, i hope you guys like this one -- i feel myself slowly coming out of my writers slump and it's been really nice and refreshing to get to write again without the pressure on my shoulders. labyrinth is also becoming one of my favorites off midnights, i just adore it so much and while it's not so lyric heavy, the production ties it all together. let me know what you guys think and isn't stevie a cutie patootie??!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

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redhoodinternaldialectical · 4 months

Note

Thoughts on Jason Todd’s choice of weaponry?

:D an ask! Yay!

Oooh, lets see, I'll start with the crowbars because I appear to be like one of three people on the entire planet who actually likes them.

They're a tacky as fuck riff on the fact that Jason's death is central to his character. They overemphasize the manner in which he died, muddy the waters about what part of his death is important to him, and strangely cheapens the manner in which he died through the parody feel of it.

No one seems to really disagree with my analysis here, but I happen to enjoy that about them and think it's very on brand for Jason. What can I say? They're fun!

Best Quality - His Wiggles

This ultra-sharp curved blade used to be his signature character design feature, the way the white streak in his hair is now, and I'm really not sure why it didn't stick!

Best weapon he's ever had, bring it back please!!!!!

The All-Blades

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM...

I have mixed feelings about the All-Blades. Like much of Lobdell's work: phenomenal idea, poor execution. Giving the guy who is most known for being morally grey a set of powers that is exclusively based on moral absolutes sucks shit, I gotta be honest, and the trick he pulled on the blood blade was cool but ultimately does nothing to solve those problems.

HOWEVER

I want to love them so fucking badly. A set of glowy soul blades is a dope sicknasty off the chain concept and I wish the well wasn't poisoned with the moral implications and the restrictions to use them only on the "Untitled", a set of enemies that only exist for Jason so far as I can tell. If someone seriously took Jason down a magic based path that removed the DnD alignment chart bullshit, I would be so game to see them come back! Hell I wouldn't even insist on a better cooler design for them!

...though uh, yeah those are the least interesting magic sword designs I've ever seen tbh

Normal Ass Swords

They're alright I guess. Like, there's nothing in it really, but it's not bad?

Guns - Real Bullets

Excellent, evocative yet simple, straightforwards and to the point. It makes hella sense thematically to boot, love this for him, please give him back his pistols and miniguns and shit

Guns - Rubber Bullets

Hate. HATE. hate ick disgusting bad NO.

I just fucking hate rubber bullets, like, as a concept. I refuse to accept "non-lethal" bullets as a valid use of gun, either in real life or in fiction. Guns are for putting many holes in things very fast!!!! If you're gonna use a gun, fucking well own up to that!!! Do not play this silly ass game of pretending that you can change out the material and do the same things as with lead bullets but with the video game status effect of "non-lethal" applied. YOU ARE GIVING PEOPLE SMALL CIRCULAR BRUISES. This is still harmful, yes, ooph ouchie, but it is not even slightly a good use of a gun, you are wasting holster space, and carry weight, and the physical materials used to make it all!!

JUST USE A FUCKING STICK! YOU DON'T RUN OUT OF STICK AMMO!

My belief in his capacity to take out enemies is shattered the instant those fuckers are on panel. Maybe this ain't entirely rational, or realistic to how fights go with rubber bullets IRL, but I hate them so much on principle that I will ignore any counterargument you might have that they'd work. I will die on this hill. Rubber bullets BAD. Please stop making him use this!!

Bombs

Love it, give him more bombs forever

ka-BOOM!!!!

His Brain

This is actually his best weapon - sorry wiggly knife, you're being shunted down to number 2 on a last minute technicality! I think Jason is at his best when he's outsmarting people and making long term fucked up schemes to ruin people's lives.

He's so good at it! It's so fun to watch him do it!

Genuinely a shame that this facet of him was mostly lost after Flashpoint, though to give credit where it is due, in Rebirth Jason did ruin the Penguin's life in an impressively elaborate way, which I did really enjoy. I want to see him be a tactical deliberate menace to one person in specific again idk, that's part of why I do kinda agree that he works better as an antagonist than a protagonist - which it should be noted does not mean I think he works better as a villain necessarily, his ethics aren't what matter here - he's just had his best moments as the schemer, and it's hard to have a protagonist schemer even when you make them ethically the good guy.

I hope you enjoyed my nattering on about Jason's weapons :D thank ye again for ask!

#jason todd #damian's tomfoolery

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crookedaverse · 2 months

Text

Im sorry but there are a few things that have to be said when it comes to Hazbin fans.

Some-(NOT ALL. DO NOT FUCKING BASH ME.)-Huskerdust shippers need to stop stereotypicalizing their dynamic.

Husk isn't racing to rescue his damsel in distress all the time, Angel can take care of him fucking self, that was the whole point of his development; realizing he can stand up for himself. He isn't a little princess who's weak and needs saving, he's a mob-boss for satan's sake. How did you guys twinkify a twink???

Husker is not this innocent kitty cat. He was a fucking over lord and likely had several souls under his belt himself, so if you hate Alastor automatically because he was a big-fat-meanie to your pookie you need to grow tf up.

If that is the first thing that makes you immediately turn on Alastor you need to sort out your priorities, because if you ignored all the other bad shit he's done you should be able to forgive him for lashing out when a sensitive topic is touched on. Alastor has feelings too.

Which brings me to my next topic.

Alastor is aroace, but aroace is an umbrella term and its a spectrum. Most writers seemingly make their characters aroace to prevent people from shipping them with others but it never works.

Now, i'm not saying Viv is one of those people at all, hell, she even condoned shipping him with people! She gave permission!

But as an aroace person myself I have to say, I hardcore ship Alastor with Lucifer. Like, not qpr, i mean full on tongue kissing and shit. Idc. It's what I like.

So if you're aroace and you're trying to get people to stop shipping Alastor ships because "Oh BuT iT's So DiShEaRtEnInG-"- shut up, you don't speak for ALL of us aroace people.

We need to not shove ourselves into that little box of "sex repulsed, touch repulsed, romance repulsed" stereotyping. Stop stereotyping yourselves!

It's ok to not like a ship, but if you're that upset you need to go watch some fucking paint dry or some shit.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk, have a nice day.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #radioapple #huskerdust #aroace

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

The Lonely Souls Club 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: he back.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky

Bucky sits on the bench, head hanging as his knees splay wide, the thick soles of his boots planted on the metal floor. The jet whirs loudly as it cuts through the air.

Sam lets out another unceremonious belch and covers his mouth as he clutches his stomach. He shakes it off as the other man curls his fingers before slowly unfurling them, watching the deliberate movements as if hypnotised.

"How in the hell do you get air sick?" Bucky snorts.

"The wings are... nicer," Sam shrugs, "whatever, I just had some bad street meat."

"I told you not to go to that place."

"Yeah well, some of us like to enjoy ourselves," Sam retorts. "What's gotten into you anyway? You're crustier than usual."

Bucky grumbles but doesn't say anything. He's impatient for this thing to be over. It wasn't enough to land in Luxembourg and Berlin, now they gotta head over to Prague. This wasn't in the briefing.

"Seriously, dude, I know brooding is your whole thing but you need to lighten up. Shit's getting dark," Sam reprimands.

"I'm not brooding," Bucky sits up, rolling his shoulders.

"Sure," the scoff is thick and dismissive. Sam is quiet as he checks the bulky watch on his wrist; it's really more than that, it's his command center. "Wait, what about that girl?"

"What girl?" Bucky's heart throbs as the tendon in his neck pulses.

"The one you were asking advice about. Is that it? You blew it, didn't you?" Sam snickers, "Buck, dames ain't what they used ta be," the old-timey accent has Bucky's fist closing again.

"Shut up," he snarls, "it's not a girl."

A cluck as Sam sits back and smirks, "sure, dude, I totally believe you."

"Stop."

"At least tell me what you did wrong? You know, girls don't like going to the woods with strange men, I said that before."

"Sam."

"James," Sam taunts.

"Don't," a vibranium finger comes within inches of the grinning lips, "I told you... enough." Bucky sits back and retracts his hand, crossing his arms as he grits his teeth, "I didn't blow it."

"Not yet," he partner and only friend chirps, "we'll see."

Bucky sighs and looks away. His stomach pits as he tries to hide his anxiety. He's barely been able to check in with Sam in his face and all this running around. It's been almost a week and it's killing him to be so far away. What if something happens and he's not there? He'd never forgive himself and neither could she.

"Hey," Sam taps him with his knuckles lightly, "I'm teasing. Really, I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset," Bucky protests, "I'm tired as fuck. Just wanna get this done with."

Reader

The birds nesting above your front window wake you up. The sun slats in brightly between the curtains as you roll over with effort, setting your hips straight with a grunt. You brace your pelvis as you try to stretch out what can't be stretched out. You whimper and bend your legs, one at a time, and raise your arms above your head. You don't want to get up but it's shopping day and you want to beat the rush.

It takes a while for you to get ready for the day. You don't go very far, just to the shop down the block. Their selection is limited but so is your budget.

You get your purse and strap it across your torso. As you near the door, you falter, a pang nearly sending you to your knees. You grasp the door frame and whine, taking the weight off your left leg. You're starting to think you might need to talk to the doctor about that cane. You didn't want to give in that easily but being stubborn isn't making it any better.

You lean on the wall and pull the door inward, unlocking the outer iron grate and pushing through. As you do, something clatters behind you, drawing a gaspy squeak from your lips. You turn to look down at the object as your keys dangle from your grip. You focus on locking both doors first.

You turn and stare down at the thing... you're not quite sure what it is at first. You strain as you bend to pick it up and rest it against the brick. It's some sort of shopping bag.

The handle extends up as it connects to four wheels. You unfold the metal cage lined with patterned fabric and let it stand on its own. You touch the handle, wrapped with some sort of protective rubber. How did it get there?

As you examine the misplaced cart, you see a small ribbon around the handle, dangling just inside the corner of the basket. You tug it up and find a tag on it. There, written by hand, is your name, and a short message.

'To make things a bit easier.'

You blink. Who would do this? You can only think your neighbours might have donated it but you never really talked to them. The mother was always too busy yelling at her children and her husband never said a word. There's nothing on the back, no sign-off, no name...

You wonder if you should accept it. It feels strange. You already live off of a government stipend, you shouldn't be taking handouts from strangers. Still, it's very helpful.

Your hip aches again, and you shudder. You turn the cart and grasp the handle, testing the stability. You don't know if you can make it back with your usual hot, as meagre as it may be. You're talking yourself into this, but it doesn't take much. Whoever left it, you'll have to thank them somehow.

Bucky

He watches her examine the cart. She's skeptical as she unfolds it and hesitates to do more than that. Is it too much? He thought it was such a good idea when he saw it at the store, and it's not very much at all, is it?

He lets out his breath as she twists the cart around and gives it a small nudge. She rolls it cautiously towards the alley and he puts the phone away. He waits across the street as she emerges from the alley and veers in the opposite direction. He doesn't move right away. She'll be on alert now. Little steps, not all at once.

He follows her, staying on the other side of the street, slinking like a cat as he watches her lean on the cart so that she nearly tips it. She rights herself and continues on, taking the next corner. Her gait is slow and uneven but he's patient. It means he gets to spend more time with her.

She hits the button for the automatic door and enters the small grocer. He waits five minutes before he trails in after her. He takes a basket, trying to blend in as he strolls through the bread section. It's desolate as only staff members scatter through the aisles, stocking shelves in their down time.

He grabs a loaf of rye; he'd wanted grilled cheese the other day but he was all out of bread. And cheese for that matter. He held off shopping so that they could go together.

He finds her by the canned soups. There's a four-for-three special. Given the quality, it's not a very good sale. She shouldn't be eating that acidic garbage. One day, he'll make sure, she doesn't have to. He just needs to wait.

He stays at the far end of the aisle as she picks four flavours. He peeks down at the labels; ham and pea, minestrone, Italian wedding, and classic chicken noodle. Noted.

She carries on but he lingers, fighting himself. He just wants to watch her every move, he wants to be right there beside her, going down a list as they plan their days together. 'Don't worry, doll, I'll cook tonight.'

He shakes off the fantasy and steps out of the aisle, only for something to rattle into him. He catches the basket of the rolling cart and his mouth falls open as he faces her. He didn't expect her to come back this way. Oh god.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she utters squeakily, "I didn't see you--"

"No, it's... okay," he's almost breathless as he pulls his gloved grip from the cart, "I wasn't looking."

He sidesteps her, heart racing, and quickly strides past her. He can hear her own pulse running wild. She doesn't move right away and he worries. The cart hit him hard, had it hurt her?

She rolls on and stops at the endcap, browsing the boxes of instant oats on sale. She searches and looks up, reaching for the cheaper options. A small bag which could last two weeks with a bit of rationing. She slips flat back on her soles and catches herself on the shelf. She can't reach.

He looks down and rubs his neck. He shouldn't but he has too. He crosses to her and reaches for the bag she wants. He takes it and offers it to her. She sputters out a mousy thanks. Her fingers brush his as she accepts it.

"No problem," he mutters and backs away, almost as if scalded.

He feels her looking at him, just for a moment, then she continues on to the discounted stack of tuna cans. His blood is like fire, boiling inside of him as he curses the damned gloves. He wish he could've felt her touch for real.

He has to get out of there. He rushes up to the cashier and puts his basket on the belt. He doesn't even care about it all. He just knows if he stays, he won't be able to keep his cool. He pays without thinking as the clerk packs his things in a paper bag. The crinkle makes him flinch as he picks it up. It's too noisy for him to follow her.

So he won't. He'll wait for her at her place. Just to make sure she gets back safe.

💔

When she comes down the alley, he's there, watching. The cart rattles announcing her approach and he holds his breath until she's in sight. She's limping worse than before, using the metal frame as support.

She struggles with her keys, jingling them loudly as he aims them at the slot on the iron grate. As she pulls it open, she loses her grip and it clangs violently. She's hurting, he can tell.

She tries again, this time getting between the doors to unlock the next. She turns to drag the cart inside. The inner door is left ajar as the iron one falls shut behind her.

There's a lull and he pulls out his phone to see what she's doing. She rolls the cart to the kitchen and shuffles around in a drawer. She pauses to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. Is she crying?

She takes out a small paper pad and a pen. She scratches the nib until ink comes out then writes across it. He's confused.

She finishes and tears away the top page. She turns to hobble through the house and comes back outside. She passes through the iron door and peers around. She grips the ragged brick and bends, placing the folded paper where he'd left the cart.

She retreats inside, the door slamming louder than before. The inside door locks and he sees her on his phone screen collapse against the other side. His chest rents as he longs to burst in and scoop her up.

He can't. She's not ready. He heard it in her heartbeat. Like him, she's been alone so long, that the idea of change is scary. No, he needs to make her see that he can help her. He can take care of her.

He'll wait until he's sure she's not listening. Then he'll go see what she wrote.

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #the lonely souls club #marvel #mcu #captain america #falcon and the winter soldier #avengers

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meanbossart · 3 months

Note

I gotta ask this has been rattling in my brain for a while.

How did your DU drow react when Astarion asked him for help with the ritual? What were his thoughts? Or was he simply like stop it, no, we aren't doing that. OH, How did you picture your Astarion and DU Drow react after he "died" and was brought back? I know that we don't really get that much dialogue or reaction from the companions when that happens (Praying they add something later down the line in another patch)

Again thank you for sharing your beautiful art and fanfic with all of us its so refreshing to see!!! :)

OHOHOHO I'm glad you asked. I feel like that first question is very revealing of DU drow's character and It was a fun moment to ponder upon, because I think much of his behavior might lead one to believe he would be willing to go along with whatever Astarion wants, instead of pushing back at all, at least on the surface.

There's two factors at play here - first, DU drow knows of his heritage at that point, and thanks to the blank-slate treatment of the tadpole he's gotten a brand new perspective on it by the time he learns of the truth. Prior to losing his memories, accepting the fate that Bhaal had bestowed onto him felt like a choice and the best thing that ever happened to him in life, a confirmation that he was special and destined for greatness instead of just damned to the lowly existence he had endured so far. After his brain is scrambled however, DU drow got a taste of what true freedom feels like while unburdened by his upbringing; he's strong, he's powerful, he's self-sufficient, he enjoys the fruits of his labor without appreciating what got him here - he does not feel like he needs Bhaal, and the fact he ever did is laughable at best and violating at worse. This leads him to abhor the idea of depending on higher power to succeed instead of just raising oneself up by their own merits, or abiding by any mentality where you take orders from a source.

So when Astarion speaks of ascension, and especially after he learns of the source of that power (Infernal magic) he's disillusioned by it. While his memories are still hazy, the situation still feels awfully familiar to him. He doesn't think Astarion needs that higher power because he doesn't, either, and to take it would surrendering to fear and giving away even more of his autonomy than he already has.

And if that sounds a little self centered and like he's missing some of the point, it's because he is. While DU drow has fallen in love with Astarion by that stage in the story and wants what's best for him (he actually entertains the idea of him ascending up to a point - he wants him to be happy) he still has a difficult time empathizing with others. Ascending feels like a bad choice, but he can only justify that feeling from his own, narrow perspective.

(I mused on about characterization for too long again. So more under the cut - the sky is blue the sun is hot etc.)

Then there's the uglier, far more vulnerable and knee-jerk reaction to it. Now that Bhaal is no longer his purpose in life or the gift he once felt it to be, Astarion has taken it's place. Bhaal needed DU drow, in his eyes, much like Astarion does now. And as much as the vampire might have told him that his feelings on the matter changed (and that he was no longer manipulating DU drow for his own ends alone) he can't fathom a reason to be kept around unless he continues to be needed. He has slotted himself as Astarion's protector and devotee, and a vampire lord does not sound like they need much of either.

As much as he would never admit to it, DU drow does not know a life where he doesn't pledge himself, body and soul, to another purpose. He seems like he's happy to barrel through life directionless, but he needs something that anchors him or he has an inexplicable feeling that something terrible will happen. And honestly, maybe he's right - for a man who loves killing, he has a much easier time applying some strategy to that desire as long as he's doing it to some an specific end. Without Astarion, he probably feels like his choices are to either submit to his hedonism entirely or just lie down and die.

I don't need to spell out that this is pure codependency at it's finest.

So, when Astarion asks for help to complete the ritual he is conflicted. He wants to do whatever Astarion wants, but his brain is setting off alarm bells that, if he acquiesces, this will be the end for them and for him. And whatever comes after is a terrifying void of nothing. While he loves Astarion and ultimately does the right choice in pleading with him to give up on this power, his motivations are far from selfless or pure, as much as DU drow may not yet realize it.

This is why, after everything takes place, and specially once he severs his connection to Bhaal and his mind clears a little further, DU drow would go on to grapple with a lot of guilt for taking this opportunity away from Astarion, as I have touched on in the fic and will continue to do so. He's happy to feel like he has a reason to be kept around, but the inevitable hurdles that Astarion must continue to face as a spawn are obviously painful to witness. This is why he dives full force into trying to "fix" his vampirism instead, following that.

NOW, FOR THE NEXT AND HOPEFULLY FAR BRIEFER ANSWER TO YOUR OTHER QUESTION (spoiler alert, it's not brief at all, god damn it):

Yeah everyone just standing around in that scene feels little weird LOL not that it took away too much from how dope a cutscene it was (I probably watched it with the attentiveness of a sport's fan witnessing a footbal game turning in the last 10 minutes of a match) but If I were to embellish it instead of just going with something like "everyone is shell-shocked and paralyzed", I would say Shadowheart is the first to rush over to see if there's anything at all she can do to help, and probably the first (and only, in that moment) to break down crying. I think she very quickly composes herself after he's brought back, tells him he gave her the scare of a fucking lifetime and that he's the luckiest idiot in all of the realms - but that she's glad he's back. No hugs for him though LOL

Astarion is pretty much the opposite, that he would stand there in shock feels kind of apt to me. Like, holy shit, what just happened? Did one of the only good things in my life really just get taken away in the blink of an eye? Am I just cursed to have everything snatched away from my hand as soon as I'm growing comfortable with it? Yes, of course I am. What else did I expect. When DU drow pops back up he's probably like "Oh yeah I knew it'd be fine" (plus the little Twee comment, that was very funny to me.) and DU drow is similarly going "Oh definitely, it was my plan all along to be killed and then resurrected by an ominous house-keeper skeleton this whole time. Anyway, smooch for a dead man?"

This... Clearly very traumatic little incident is probably addressed by them only later. He gets a kiss and a hug at camp and a very stern "if you do that shit again I'm raising you back up just to kill you myself" from Astarion and Shadowheart's just down to drink in celebration and drown her trauma away for now lmao.

OH YEAH AND GALE WAS ALSO THERE. There was a whole Gale debacle in my playthrough but, the TL;DR, is that especially towards the end of the game he was Not in the best of terms with DU drow. Still, I obviously think he's an empathetic person and had his own "oh shit" moment. I'd say he takes this opportunity to try extending a very sincere hand out to him later that day, both for his courage in defying a god and dumb-luck - which DU drow completely passes on like an asshole and just gives him a cold-shoulder about, leaving feeling even more dejected than he already was and probably further cementing his choice to pursue the crown of Karsus later, despite DU drow's disapproval. Good job buddy!

Thank you so much for the ask and for your lovely compliments!!! Sorry for writing you a dang ESSAY 😬

#ask #du drow #DU drow lore #about time I start using a tag like that #bg3 spoilers

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jaehunnyy · 1 year

Text

The sound of our tied souls

Genre: soulmate!au, rockstar!au, kinda enemies-to-lovers but not really, a bit of angst, fluff, happy ending

Word count: 3.3k

Pairing: rockstar!San x fem!reader (feat. reader's best friend x Mingi)

Warnings: swear words (quite a lot), time-skip, kind of a bad guy attitude—San's a bit of a jerk at the beginning but he has a character development :), soulmate rejection, mentions of some jealous fans, kinda slow-burn, one kiss, possible grammar mistakes

A/N: this oneshot is part of @sungbeam's soulmate collab, which i was so proud to be part of; thanks for the opportunity, love 🤍

You got woken up by that annoying song again, your beauty sleep being thrown away for the rest of the night—cause it seemed like your soulmate had no sleeping schedule. You couldn't understand how he could listen to this all the time, you often wondered if his hearing was still intact—cause the loud growl of what seemed to be an electric guitar could surely manage to make you deaf by now.

You have first discovered your soulmate bond after your 16th birthday, when you began hearing rock music everyday. Everyone was talking about how sweet their marks were: a tattoo with the letter of their significant other's name, a highlight in their hair matching their future partner's color, and the list could go on. You, on the other hand, had to struggle with listening to something you absolutely despised, without thinking that your soulmate returned the same feeling to your music choice. With a mischievous smile on your face, you made your way to your piano, starting to play one of your favorite songs. God, if only you knew how frustrated your soulmate got.

"San, you messed up again! Can you fucking focus?" Hongjoong, the leader of their group, Guerrillas, shouted, watching as the culprit lowered his head.

"I can't, Joong. I can't, because all I hear right now is Für Elise, and it messes my head up!" he shouted too, pulling his hair back in frustration.

The others looked at each other with confused looks; was there something they didn't know? Without actually meaning to, Mingi bursted into laughter, leading Wooyoung to chuckle as well.

"Since when do you listen to classical music?" he asked San, smirking playfully.

"I don't. That thing you call soulmate does."

"You're hearing what your soulmate listens to?!" Wooyoung exclaimed, covering his mouth in shock.

"Yeah. But you know I'm not into this shit of yours, so let's get back to practice. I'll try and focus." he simply said, taking his guitar again, the strap attached to it hugging his torso perfectly.

Seonghwa shrugged and signaled the others to start playing, their practice session blooming once again. You could swear that he'd never played music that loud before; it felt like a competition between the two of you, and you smiled at the thought of having him so frustrated. You didn't know who he was nor how he looked, but you were ready to make his life a living hell, as much as he had started to turn yours into one.

At one point, the music stopped and you managed to sleep a bit, but it was way too little for your liking. You woke up at the sound of your doorbell, your best friend standing behind the wooden door.

"You won't believe what my boyfriend got me!" she said as soon as you opened the door, barging into your house like it was her own.

"Do I wanna know?" you sighed, thinking that your best friend's excitement meant chaos.

"He got me two tickets at his band's concert! We're gonna see the Guerrillas!" she jumped, pulling the two golden-like tickets from her pocket.

She and Mingi—her soulmate, met a while ago, and since then, she was always talking about him and how much their music grew on her. She must have been so happy now, that her world had finally earned its colors. Her and Mingi's soulmate mark consisted of seeing the world in black and white, until the two of them met. You still remembered how fast they agreed on becoming a couple, and you still wondered how they made it work so well. You knew how proud she was of her boyfriend, mainly because it was the third time she was trying to convince you to go with her, thinking that it would be, somehow, her lucky chance.

"There's no way I'm going to a rock concert." you protested, crossing your arms.

"There's no way I'll leave you alone until you say yes." she smirked, shoving one of the tickets in your jacket.

Nice try, you thought, before taking a moment to actually read the information on the ticket. How bad could it be, after all? Maybe, in this way, you could find more about your soulmate's favorite genre of music. You also thought it was maybe an occasion to meet Mingi's friends; you knew he was in the college's rock band, though you've never met them in this formula.

"Fine. I'm only doing it for Mingi's effort to get you these." you said coldly, side-eyeing your friend when she gave you a bear hug; it was gonna be a long week.

While the two were already making plans for the big day, the boys took a break from their intense practice session, starting to talk about whatever traveled their mind while drinking a can of energy drink. San was absent from their conversation, fidgeting with his calloused fingers, the effort of always trying to hit the right strings showing. The thought of having a soulmate was really burdening him, he didn't want to spend his energy searching for someone he didn't even want to meet. Little San would probably be disappointed, because all he has ever wished for was to grow up and meet his other half. Arts student San, though? He didn't need anything else as long as he had his guitar by his side; a capo and some sheet music could easily solve his problems. But he couldn't stand the thought of someone constantly hearing the feelings he tried expressing through music; it made him feel vulnerable, like he had no personal space anymore.

"San, do you agree with the outfits we've decided on?" Jongho asked, looking curiously at the way too quiet boy.

"Huh… yeah, sure, sounds great." he replied, avoiding the way Yunho raised his eyebrow at his reply.

"You didn't pay attention," he sighed, before adding some other words: "Something's definitely bothering you, so talk to us."

"Is it because of your soulmate? Why don't you just search for her?" Wooyoung asked, feeling the way the elder tensed. "It should stop after you meet, right?"

"Meeting her means that I have to be committed, and I don't want to commit to her." he spat, putting emphasis on not wanting to do so, and without bothering to spare his friends the slightest glance, he just took his things and left them speechless, in the middle of the studio.

The week passed fastly, the not-so-wanted (by a certain someone, 'cause the whole college actually went crazy for it) concert finally coming to life. The boys were backstage, trying to memorize their lines or chords for the last time. You and your friend would be late though; because she couldn't let you wear the clothes you would usually wear.

"I can't believe you want to wear a coat to a rock concert," she sighed, slightly amused by your antics. "They cover songs like Smells Like Teen Spirit, Sweet Child O' Mine and more, and they will most likely sing their own songs as well. This isn't Antonio Vivanti."

You let out an offended scoff, grabbing the leather jacket she was trying to put on you and wearing it, despite the ick the weird material was giving you. "And it's Vivaldi, by the way. Pay respect!"

"Yeah, yeah. C'mon, or else we will be late!"

Luckily for her (‘cause you tried to lose as much time as you could), you arrived just when they settled on stage, greeting the ones who came to see them. You couldn't say you weren't a bit jealous whenever you saw the way her and Mingi looked at each other—because it did something to you. But you were scared of being rejected, pretty sure that the soulmate thing wasn't as easy as it seemed.

Your thoughts were brushed off by the loud sound made by the mix of instruments, making you flinch, to your friend's amusement. Not being able to sneak outside because of her hand constantly holding yours, you decided that the least you could do was to pretend you were enjoying it. The others seemed to have fun too, even the boys, who really owned the stage—until something stole the show. San was taken aback by the way his in-ears worked—or so he thought. The same song they were performing was playing in a faded but bothering way in his ears, making him look at the others with a questionable look. He then made a few gestures to the staff, waiting for the song to stop so he could go and see what was wrong. Hongjoong looked at him worriedly while still focused on his bass, meanwhile Mingi almost messed up while playing the drums.

"We will be back in a few minutes, wait for us, okay?" Jongho screamed, hoping to keep the audience busy for a bit, while the others went to see what was wrong with San; their mics weren't off, though.

"There's nothing wrong with your in-ears, San. They work perfectly," the staff informed him, a few curse words leaving his mouth.

"What if your soulmate is at the concert, San?" Yeosang asked innocently, almost like a joke—though the younger boy freezed in his place.

The audience went crazy; some fangirls gasped and started to whisper several things about San's potential soulmate, meanwhile some of them had the same reaction as San. Some of them even started to run, looking suspiciously at every single girl they saw. "San has a soulmate?", "God, what did she do in her past life?", and so many other phrases that made you scoff. Who was this San and why was he so popular? The influence of his jealous fans spreaded through the whole venue, making the staff finally notice their mics and turn them off, though it was too late—the fuss was already created.

"I don't think that's the case—" Seonghwa tried to protest, but San stopped him.

"I think that's exactly the case." San looked at them, before throwing his in-ears somewhere. "What should we do now? I don't want to perform anymore."

"Then… let's wrap it up." Hongjoong sighed, before going back on stage. "Due to some unfortunate events, we need to stop here, darlings. Don't worry, we will come back soon!" He bowed and left the stage, leaving the fans high and dry. In other circumstances, nothing could have made him leave the stage that easily; he would have found a solution. But seeing how messed up his friend was, it made him want to try and understand him, he was going through a quite special phase, after all.

"I will go ask Mingi about what happened, do you want to come?" your friend asked, though your answer didn't even matter, she was already dragging you after her.

She greeted her boyfriend and the others as if they knew each other since forever, asking them about what was wrong.

"San hears whatever his soulmate is listening too, and he has only told us a few days ago," Mingi said, wrapping an arm around the girl's waist.

Your eyes widened at what he said, but you decided to keep composure—maybe it was just a coincidence.

"And she is into classical music, it's so frustrating. Why would she come to our concert?" San snapped, ignoring the guest his friend's soulmate brought.

It all made sense to you then. You probably didn't realize the music coming from him because you tried to enjoy the new experience, but it made sense. The two-tone haired boy, the arrogant San everyone was talking about was standing in front of you—moreover, he was your soulmate; and he didn't seem too happy with the idea of being bonded to someone.

"Who's the lady next to you?" Wooyoung asked, feeling the need to make you feel implied in the discussion.

"She's Y/N, I dragged her here with me," your friend laughs awkwardly. "She's not a fan, but Mingi got me two tickets so I made use of them."

"Oh! Do you happen to hear rock music sometimes?" Wooyoung asked, smirking playfully.

"Uhm… no, sorry." you said, looking at San, who was already looking suspiciously at you. He was really arrogant, you wished to be able to reject him, but he seemed to do it first.

"Even if she was, I told you guys I don't care. My soulmate can go search for another one." he said, before leaving them, once again. You were the next one to leave, not even caring about the possibility of giving your little secret away.

Even after a few days, you couldn't deny the emptiness you felt the moment you were indirectly rejected by your soulmate—it was definitely noticeable, somewhere in your heart. It was safe to say San didn't feel as good as he thought he would either, even when he rejected the one he was assigned to live his whole life with on purpose. He figured out it was you, because he stopped hearing the once annoying music; but he missed it. And the news about his soulmate was spread in the whole college as well, not helping at all; they were making even the outsiders interested in the tea going on.

"I'm tired of this shit, guys. I won't come to practice today."

Hongjoong looked at him once again, nodding, not knowing exactly how to comfort his friend in this situation, words long forgotten. San started to walk in the direction of where the studio was, his ears filling with the melodious sound of a piano playing. Like it was a habit of his, his legs guided him to the door, which he cracked open, just to reveal you playing the piano. Your fingers moved skillfully along the piano keys, Debussy's Clair de Lune resonating beautifully in the room. The sweet melody managed to comfort him somehow; he didn’t know if it was the calming nature of the song or the closure he was supposed to have with you, but he felt relaxed, listening peacefully until the painful silence started to bother him. He then took the matters into his own hands—in such a San way.

"You’ve got some skills, soulmate," he said, his lips stretching into a little smile, though a little dimple made its appearance still.

You got a bit surprised by his presence, but stopped what you were doing, to return a small smile and answer him.

"Thank you. I guess you do too."

"Was that Beethoven?" he asked curiously, sitting on the chair in front of the piano, next to you.

"Claude Debussy, but A for effort," you said, smiling at his attempt.

A wave of silence spread across the room, before you decided to break it: "We got off to a bad start, but we can still repair it. I'm Y/N," you said, sticking your hand out to him.

He grabbed it, shaking it softly. "I'm San, nice to meet you again." He waited for another reaction of yours, but seeing that you didn't plan on saying anything else, he made the next step: "Let's be friends."

You spent most of the day with him, sharing tips and talking about your opposite passions—though it was well known that opposites attract. Now, that you've gotten to know him a bit better, you could say he was more than just an arrogant guy.

One month passed since your first interaction with your soulmate, and you would have never expected that there would be more; yet here you were, watching as he excitedly got two tickets from his pocket.

"You're invited to our concert tonight! My treat this time, for you and our friend." he winked, handing the same golden-like tickets to you.

"I'll be there, Sannie." you smiled, giving him a side hug before running to your class. He smiled softly, not believing the effect love could have on him.

Furthermore, tonight's stage would be an important one for him; it could mean accomplishment or failure, but he was still willing to try. The boys found him smiling like an idiot—but they enjoyed it, they could tease him about how a certain someone made him change. He never failed to amaze them, but someone definitely brought the best in him. He watched as the boys looked at him, his freshly dyed hair glowing nicely into the dim lights. His hands were covered in a pair of fingerless mesh gloves, fingers full of rings, while his t-shirt was nicely tucked in his leather pants. Some chains were dangling on his neck and waist, and a fake lip ring laid on his lower lip, completing the rockstar look he opted for.

"Where's San and what have you done with him?" Yeosang joked, entertaining the other seven boys in the room.

"Shut up, Sang. Are you ready?" Seonghwa asked, taking his mic and retouching the last details for tonight's show.

"Never been more ready." San smiled, taking his guitar and being the first one to get on stage.

"Hello guys, thank you for coming today too!" Wooyoung exclaimed, getting ready to perform at his best.

You and your friend were somewhere in the front row, singing along with the other fans who came to see the eight boys. You were bouncing with her, enjoying the genre you softly became addicted to, but it was surely an influence San had on you. You didn't know what happened to you, but you still had hope, that maybe something would change his mind. Suddenly, the culprit's voice was heard in the whole venue, catching your attention and making you stop whatever you were doing.

"As you all know, one month ago, I met my soulmate at the concert we held in the same place. I'd like her to join me here, please, Y/N?" he smiled, gesturing for you to get on stage, next to them.

You looked confusedly at your friend, who pushed you in the direction of the stage, playing their game. You got there, finding yourself in front of the crowd and waving awkwardly at them, not expecting to hear their loud screaming.

"I know I was a bit of a douchebag at the beginning, and that was definitely not the way you wanted us to meet. I messed up, but I hope you can forgive me."

The fans cheered up louder, while a big smile found its way to your face, making the boy's lips stretch into one as well.

"I know I rejected you at the beginning, but let me try to fix things. I hope it's not too late," he laughed softly, before continuing: "Have you started your looking for another soulmate project yet?"

You burst into laughter, nodding as no a few times. His cheeks got colored in a crimson red tone, and you could swear you've never seen anything cuter than a shy rockstar.

"Can I have the chance of being the lucky one, then?" he asked and watched as your expression changed, nervousness noticeable in his voice as well.

"I thought you considered yourself unluck—" Wooyoung interrupted, but Jongho was fast to cover his mouth and prevent him from saying anything else. "You're screwing the moment, Woo." he said, mouth still pressed on his older friend's mouth.

You laughed at their antics, taking the mic from San's hand.

"As much as you've annoyed me, I still like you, Choi San. I always did, which is why I would actually love to give you this chance."

As soon as you finished your romantic little speech, he cupped your face, pressing his lips on yours softly. The fans went crazy, cheering and jumping as the two of you sealed the promise of loving each other forever with a soft kiss.

"With these being said, I'd like to announce the title of our next album, entitled The sound of our tied souls!" Yunho said, making the night of every single soul attending that concert, the stars shining even brighter above their heads.

You pressed your forehead on San's, admiring his beauty while your noses rubbed lovingly against each other's. The road you had to walk on to find your soulmate was a tough one, but looking back on it, you wouldn't want it another way; you were too excited for your future with your other half—the arrogant boy you started to love, the one destined to be eternally yours.

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bananasfosterparent · 13 days

Note

The difference in AA is his soul being irreversibly gone. That is the point and this is what Larians writers have been hinting at and this is what irks people about AA. The oversexualisation and erasure of his trauma, effectively erasing him as a person. I know we're talking about a fictional character, but if we're gonna go off on the topic, saying something "doesn't matter" is just a cop-out. Astarion didn't need to be "fixed" to the point of emotional lobotomy.

I don't think it's wrong to like or prefer him, but I think it's valid to have opinion on the matter, much like you have yours.

I started to apologize for the length of this, but honestly, since you sent the message, I'm going to respond to every part of it. I'm not sorry for the rambling lol

"The difference in AA is his soul being irreversibly gone."

Okay, show me the quote/scene/dialog in-game where this canonly is said and confirmed? Where does it say the ritual will ever touch his soul or any part of the game talks about his literal soul?

And if by soul you mean the "lose who you are inside" as a metaphor, that's still a matter of opinion and not actually canonly what happens. Astarion is still himself. The "changes" in his personality are shifts to simply adjust to the company he is around. He's essentially code switching.

That is the point and this is what Larians writers have been hinting at and this is what irks people about AA.

Got it. So the point of Astarion's romance is for Larian to write a singular story that has one ending you're "supposed" to enjoy with a "morally good" conclusion, and one ending that's fun and sexy, but "supposed" to be a cautionary warning of how things "shouldn't go". Because that makes sense for a "choose your own adventure" game and that's why the romance stops with AA as soon as you ascend him, and he enslaves and compels your character and you can't continue the romance with him--OH WAIT.

The oversexualisation and erasure of his trauma, effectively erasing him as a person

"The oversexualization".... So you know my Tav's personal motivations and why she chose to ascend him? And you're confident you know I made the roleplay decisions I made because you know it centers entirely and solely around it being to sexualize him?

Interesting.

Because that couldn't be further from the truth. My Tav has an entire story for why she chose to ascend him and it has nothing to do with how sexy it makes him. And it was a story I came up with well before I knew about any of this "sexualization" concept. And as a player, I didn't ascend him because I wanted a sexy vampire. I went into his romance blind and had no idea what would happen when I did it. I ascended him because it narratively made sense for my character and their relationship. But even then, if I wanted a sexy vampire, why is that a bad thing? He's not real.

And I find it so ironic that a lot of spawn fans who are anti-AA only enjoy AA for the sexual parts of that ending. Yet, we're the ones "oversexualizing" him lol

As for "erasure of his trauma"... where do I even start? What does that even mean? lol I'm not gonna lie. You sound young or unaware, but believe it or not, in real life there is more than one way to deal with trauma. And dealing with it in a way you don't agree with doesn't erase the trauma or mean the person is pretending it never happened. Ascended Astarion very much addresses his trauma and exercises a different form of healing.

In a fantasy world, you can actually explore those other options and have the outcome work FOR you, even if it wouldn't in real life. Accepting your fate and trying to align yourself with "morally good" choices is certainly not a bad thing and one way to go. In real life, that's what I agree with, as a Christian and believer in Christ. But Faerun doesn't have a Jesus. They don't have the same real world ideas of morals. They have their own gods, their own history, their own moral perspective outside of our world. Bringing in (your perspective of) our real world morals is a valid way to roleplay, but it's not the "only correct" way to roleplay.

There is the route of overthrowing what was meant to control and destroy you, and taking control of it yourself. Taking what was meant to be against you and making it work for you instead. For me, that's what Astarion's ascension means.

A smaller example of this is if you give Astarion Gandrel's crossbrow to use.

This weapon was designed to work against vampire spawn. It allows for its user to possibly inflict Turn Undead on enemies and gives them advantage in a fight against monster types. And yet, Astarion can wield it and use it effectively. He can take what was created to hurt and destroy him and use it to work for him.

Ascension can be the exact same thing. It's not a matter of which opinion of ascension is morally right. It's a matter of which decision on ascension is right for your Tav and their story with Astarion.

...saying something "doesn't matter" is just a cop-out.

Can you show me where I said "something" "doesn't matter"? Cause it wasn't in any of my recent posts. Are you referring to one of my older ones?

Not only do I not know what part of what post you're referring to, BUT I also don't know what I was talking about, if I even said "something" doesn't matter. I don't know what that "something" is.

Astarion didn't need to be "fixed" to the point of emotional lobotomy.

I'm glad we agree on something. I've seen people claim ascension is "fixing" him (because it eliminates the negative traits of vampirism) and therefore it's weird to call anti-AA spawn fans "fixers". But the difference is trying to change(fix) his morals and view of the world to reflect a "good" worldview (the spawn ending) VS trying to change (fix) his circumstances and lack of control (helping his ascend).

AA fans do not want to change his personality or his mental/emotional state. We want to change his circumstances so that he has a place to be able to make those decisions on his own. And for most of us, Ascension provides that perspective.

Spawn fans want the same thing. But the approach is more to convince him from the inside out that he can make those decisions without ascension. And that's also true. But not more valid or the only way.

But his personality does not change in either ending. In one (spawn ending), he is able to find freedom in just being free of Cazedor and exist the way he always has with a newfound confidence and peace.

In another, he is able to find freedom in taking the helm himself, and holding all the cards to be the one on top. He finds confidence in having the power and being able to wield it, without fear of anything he's had to fear with the negatives of vampirism.

But in both, he is still the same person. He still gets joy out of the same things (killing people, having/causing/observing bloodshed, and causing some chaos), he still has the same personality. The difference is in his circumstances and how he presents himself.

I don't think it's wrong to like or prefer him, but I think it's valid to have opinion on the matter, much like you have yours.

You don't mean that. Because if you did, you wouldn't have a reason to send this anon message in the first place. You wouldn't care enough. It wouldn't matter. You wouldn't have this opinion. You would be able to see value in both endings and respect the positive perspective of ascension even if you don't understand it, without arguing headcanon points like "his soul is irreversibly gone".

Your entire message is literally you trying to tell me it's wrong to like him and that the opinion I have of him is invalid and wrong. I already respect your opinion on both sides of him. Because it's your right to how you roleplay and see him. If you respect mine, you're doing a really awful job at showing it.

Regardless, if that is your intention or not. That's what sending this message says. If you really want to say you respect AA fans for enjoying AA, then stop sending AA fans messages like this and either completely avoid AA and the fans or refrain from trying to argue against it. We can discuss it and not agree while also respecting each other's roleplay choices.

This is not a wrong vs right conversation. It's a "what's your preference?" conversation. Spawn vs Ascended should be like "what's your favorite Pokemon type?"

The sooner that is realized, the better off this fandom will be.

#anon #anon ask #ask #ascended astarion

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nrdmssgs · 8 months

Text

Tips to write for Nikolai (useful phrases)

Masterlist Tips to write for König (useful phrases)

AN: This guide is not meant to encourage you to start loving Russian language or culture. As much as I personally love Nikolai, I'll absolutely understand, there are people out there, that may feel bad, seeing him in CoD franchise, because of everything going on right now. This is not a call to start loving him, not a call to start describing this character as an absolute angel (he is not and never was). If seeing such a guide makes you feel bad - I'm genuinely sorry, and I'm open to a dialogue to make it better.

I tried to cover the most commonly used themes. However, it's impossible to make it short, yet all-covering. So please don't hesitate to come into my DMs with 'hey, I want Nikolai to say this thing in my fic - could you translate it in Russian for me?'. I'm always super-happy to help!

These are not my HCs, about what would Nik say, just some usefull phrases!

And the last one: Russian language uses Cyrillic letters. But I personally love to, at least try to hear, how other languages sound. So I provided translations (Cyrilic) and transliterations (Latin).

TW: swearing

Basic words, you may need for everyday chit-chat

Hello - Здравствуй Zdravstvui

Hi - Привет Privet

Good morning \ day \ evening - Доброе утро \ добрый день \ добрый вечер Dobroe utro \ dobryi den' \ dobryi vecher

Goodbye (untill next time) - До свидания Do svidaniia

Bye - Пока Poka

Thank you - Спасибо Spasibo

You are welcome - Пожалуйста Pozhaluista

Yes \ yes of course - Да \ Конечно Da \ Konechno

No - Нет Net

Petnames

Genderless (can be used, referring to both men and women, depending on relationship dynamic):

Angel - Ангел Angel

My soul - Душа моя Dusha moia

Treasure - Сокровище Sokrovishche

Sun \ little sun - Солнце \ Солнышко Solntse \ Solnyshko

My joy - Радость моя Radost' moia

Love - Любовь Liubov'

My light - Мой свет Moi svet

My happiness - Счастье моё Schast'e moe

Dream - Мечта Mechta

Little cloud - Облачко Oblachko

Little fire - Огонёк Ogonek

Precious - Прелесть Prelest'

Heart - Сердце Serdtse

Little tiger - Тигрёнок Tigrenok

Wonder - Чудо Chudo

Feminine and masculine versions of petnames (Here you can add 'my' moia for feminine, moi for masculine versions of names)

Priceless - Бесценная \ Бесценный Bestsennaia \ Bestsennyi

Divine - Божественная \ Божественный Bozhestvennaia \ Bozhestvennyi

Peerless - Бесподобная \ Бесподобный Bespodobnaia \ Bespodobnyi

Gorgeous - Великолепная \ Великолепный Velikolepnaia \ Velikolepnyi

Delightful - Восхитительная \ Восхитительный Voskhititel'naia \ Voskhititel'nyi

Darling - Дорогая \ Дорогой Dorogaia \ Dorogoi

Precious - Драгоценная \ Драгоценный Dragotsennaia \ Dragotsennyi

The only one - Единственная \ Единственный Edinstvennaia \ Edinstvennyi

Desired - Желанная \ Желанный Zhelannaia \ Zhelannyi

Golden - Золотая \ Золотой Zolotaia \ Zolotoi

Affectionate - Ласковая \ Ласковый Laskovaia \ Laskovyi

Beloved - Любимая \ Любимый Liubimaia \ Liubimyi

Sweetheart - Милая \ Милый Milaia \ Milyi

Tender - Нежная \ Нежный Nezhnaia \ Nezhnyi

The one, I can't stop looking at (lovingly) - Ненаглядная \ Ненаглядный Nenagliadnaia \ Nenagliadnyi

Incredible - Невероятная \ Невероятный Neveroiatnaia \ Neveroiatnyi

Charming - Очаровательная \ Очаровательный Ocharovatel'naia \ Ocharovatel'nyi

Dear (often said to someone, you consider your family) - Родная \ Родной Rodnaia \ Rodnoi

Sweet - Сладкая \ Сладкий Sladkaia \ Sladkii

Good one - Хорошая \ Хороший Khoroshaia \ Khoroshii

Love confessions and stuff around that

I love you. - Я люблю тебя. Ia liubliu tebia.

I like you. - Ты мне нравишься. Ty mne nravish'sia.

I fell in love with you at first sight. - Я влюбился (if man says it) \ влюбилась (if woman) в тебя с первого взгляда. Ia vliubilsia \ vliubilas' v tebia s pervogo vzgliada.

I can not live without you. - Я не могу без тебя жить. Ia ne mogu bez tebia zhit'.

You drive me crazy. - Я схожу по тебе с ума. Ia skhozhu po tebe s uma.

I wanna be with you. - Я хочу быть с тобой. Ia hochu byt' s toboi.

I think about you constantly. - Я постоянно думаю о тебе. Ia postoianno dumaiu o tebe.

You are my only one. - Ты мой (if the partner is masculine) \ моя (if the partner is feminine) единственный\ая. Ty moi \ moia edinstvennyi\aia.

I really need you. - Ты мне очень нужна (f partner) \ нужен (m partner). Ty mne ochen' nuzhna \ nuzhen.

We were meant for each other. - Мы созданы друг для друга. My sozdany drug dlia druga.

I'm ready to do anything for you. - Я готов/а на все ради тебя. Ia gotov/a na vse radi tebia.

I'm never giving you to somebody. - Я тебя никому не отдам. Ia tebia nikomu ne otdam.

Dirty talking

I want you. - Я хочу тебя. Ia hochu tebia.

I'm all yours. - Я вся твоя \ весь твой. Ia vsia tvoia \ ves' tvoi.

Your body drives me crazy. - Твоё тело сводит меня с ума. Tvoe telo svodit menia s uma.

I want to feel your touch all over. - Хочу чувствовать твои руки везде. Hochu chuvstvovat' tvoi ruki vezde.

You can do anything you want today. - Тебе сегодня можно всё. Tebe segodnia mozhno vse.

Take me the way, you want to. - Возьми меня, как ты хочешь. Voz'mi menia, kak ty khochesh'.

I want to make you moan. - Хочу заставить тебя стонать. Hochu zastavit' tebia stonat'.

Give yourself to me completely. - Отдайся мне весь (to m partner)\ вся (to f partner), без остатка. Otdaisia mne ves' \ vsia, bez ostatka.

Show me, that I belong to you only. - Покажи мне, что я только твоя \ твой. Pokazhi mne, chto ia tol'ko tvoia \ tvoi.

What do you want to do to me? - Что ты хочешь со мной сделать? Chto ty hochesh' so mnoi sdelat'?

Don't stop. - Не останавливайся. Ne ostanavlivaisia.

I want to taste you. - Хочу попробовать тебя на вкус. Hochu poprobovat' tebia na vkus.

Swearing

Fuck (as an interjection) - Блять Bliat'

Fuck off - Отъебись Ot"ebis' (to one person), отъебитесь ot"ebites' (to a group of people)

Bloody hell - Ёбаный пиздец (NOT used during sex!!) Ebanyi pizdets

Bastard - Сволочь (applied to any gender) Svoloch'

Motherfucker - Ублюдок \ уебан Ubliudok \ ueban

Son of a bitch - Сукин сын Sukin syn

Asshole - Жопа \ задница. Zhopa \ zadnitsa.

Cunt \ Pussy - Пизда (This and next one can in theory be used in bed, but i really strongly recommend you to NOT) Pizda

Cock \ Dick - Хуй Hui

Cultural extras to get in the mood

I sometimes meet this take, that Russian, as well as German language, sounds menacing or harsh. And as much as I understand, that it is subjective perception, I have something to add: you can modulate Russian speech as well as any other. You can sound like softest softie, coo and purr in Russian, if you want. Here is a good example: a guy just reads a poem, but you try and tell me, he is not straight seducing you.

Very nice perspective on how non-tourist Russia looks like. The guy travels to places, that still look and feel like USSR and somehow manages to survive. Don't mind him rambling, how good was soviet life - he doesn't mean it, he just says whatever people, he meets, would love to hear.

Another good channel to explore non-tourist Ru and some extreme weathers. Don't worry, there are no jumpscares and nothing scary happens on the videos.

Russian winter is a tricky one, because -40 С in Yakutsk can sometimes feel softer as -20 in Moscow. Humidity and wind are the keys.

No, vodka is not the only alcohol option) You can write a Ru character, that despises vodka and it will be 100% legit.

If you need domestic and interior references to Nikolais youth in soviet Ru - I can recommend HBOs Chernobyl series. An accuracy and attention to domestic details there is so great that it gets uncanny sometimes.

Stefan Kapičić does very tender and smooth version of Slavic accent. And he is 100% right to do so - it works good both for his character and the audience. If you want to hear heavier versions of Russian accent - here is a little funny video.

#cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai reboot call of duty #call of duty #call of duty mw 2022 #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mv2 #call of duty mw2 #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii

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vaguely-concerned · 2 years

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after some reflection I've reached the conclusion that to my mind nona the ninth did need to be its own book -- not in terms of delivering the plot or character developments, necessarily, but to be a thematic mirror to harrow the ninth in a way I don't think you could have done if this was also trying to do its job as the last book of a trilogy.

harrow the ninth is about the horror of nothing changing -- the grim, unending slog of mental illness, the inexorable method in madness grinding along, grinding you down, moment upon moment; it's about how grief can seem to create its own pockets of eternity. it's about how some things can only be remembered in forgetting.

nona the ninth is about the horror of everything changing all the time forever -- the people you love, until they aren't quite the people you loved any more, the places you love, until it's become somewhere you can never go back to, the world, every day -- you, until you die one way or another, in truth or in no longer recognizing yourself. you go to school for the hour of science and noodle every day, until one day you just don't anymore, and nothing can be done about that. nona is about 'life is too short, and love is too long', but also 'you can't take 'loved' away'. pyrrha, who's tried for ten thousand years to kill her feelings but "Don't worry, kiddie. I'll keep loving you -- my problem is I don't know how to stop." even when it just hurts us, we love. we just can't help ourselves. and at the end alecto remembers herself (itself?), which means forgetting nona.

the strange paradoxical comfort of madness vs. the unbearable loneliness of sanity. harrow is mad, and for all her suffering it keeps her from having to face the most inconceivable, the thing she can't live with: a universe without gideon. cam and pal are so so sane, and they can't bear it. they die to live in a way they can... uh, well, live with, and it's a crazy thing to do but it's the kindest thing they could find for themselves. the world of harrow the ninth is so dead and deadened, and the world of nona is so unbearably alive.

(ironically ntn was a much more difficult read for me than htn, because the way htn works is already so close to how my own mind works (yes, unfortunately, really. no, I'm not okay, but not in a way anyone can do anything about with any immediacy so let's ignore that for now lol). I understand the logic of it intimately, for all it looks confusing if you just see the surface. but the ongoing nature of the restless dread in ntn -- the way you love these people, and through the book they keep drifting away from you so steadily and gradually that you can't even put your finger on exactly when you really lost them as they were at the beginning. at the end, when pyrrha is carrying nona because she can't stand anymore (carrying her in 'the halo of her arms'...... god. yes, that is what a parent feels like for a child huh), I vicariously felt what I suspect is pyrrha's train of thought as well that like... what if you could just hold her close enough, love her hard enough, that she won't have to go, that she could get to live. what if you could just refuse to let go of her, what if you could be strong enough for that. and one person in this universe is that strong-- why would you let someone go -- away from you -- untouchable? John's obsession with being able to touch his loved ones, except he's so profoundly fucked up he doesn't understand any way to do it but to make them into extensions of himself, to consume them and transform them into himself, the very hungry caterpillar style -- he wanted to touch so he made them his hands, and he doesn't understand why it doesn't fulfil him. and thank god pyrrha has the soul and sense to understand why you can't just eat what you love, narrowly, but I still wanted her to be able to still hold nona and protect her from everything including death so fucking bad, and of course she can't. that's the tragedy of it, that's the beauty of it. love doesn't change anything, and we just can't help but love anyway, and it changes everything, and it's all we can do sometimes. fuck I'm going to need a lot of lying face down on the floor for a few hours to process this book huh lmao)

#nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #the locked tomb spoilers #nona spoilers #the locked tomb #harrow the ninth #tl;dr: nona the ninth fucked me up okay don't look at me lol #harrow the ninth is still my favourite of the series because that book recognized me in a way few other things have #but muir is Doing Some Shit in ntn holy fuck #the locked tomb meta #I'm. I'm going to go have a shower to calm down probably I think haha

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cowboycannibalism · 9 months

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just got out of a late showing of Talk To Me and I have thoughts!

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

so let's dive in while it's still fresh in my mind

Grief is a heavy player in this movie and that's what makes it so good. So much of what happens is because of Mia not being able to let go or face her grief. she's vulnerable to the spirits/demons/souls because she's lonely and sad and she's trying to find anything to make her feel.

The opening scene was absolutely amazing! it sets up how fucking crazy the movie is going to be. It brings us into the world where everything is for views, everyone is entertainment even when they're suffering. It's not the focus of the film but they way social media guides the story is interesting.

to add to the previous point, every time someone does the "game"/seance, the others whip out their phones with lightening speed. They laugh, they point their cameras at the possessed and scream and shout in joy regardless of what the possessed is doing. we see this in Daniel's first go which is a weird sexual possession that leaves him embarrassed and scared, whereas the group is laughing and recording. it's also what brings Mia to the hand in the first place, she keeps seeing the videos posted of people playing the game and having "fun"

I really liked the kangaroo scene because it was so jarring and the foreshadowing was just mwah. wonderful.

I will admit Mia got annoying because you want her to know that she should stop, but she won't. I was literally trying not to yell at the screen lol

on the other hand (ha hand), I get it. She was desperate, grief will do that to you, she just wanted answers and closure. And that can drive you mad.

The gore/violence in the movie was so good for a possession film! The Riley scene was intense and had the small amount of us in the theater squirming and yelling and gasping. And the limbo/purgatory scene although brief was not what I was expecting and it blew me away, it gave cronenbergian/yuzna's Society [1989] vibes.

the cast was very very good! Sophie Wilde played Mia with such an intensity and passion that drew me in even when I didn't care for her character's actions. And the supporting cast stood their own which was awesome because sometimes in horror those other characters can sometimes get pushed aside or fade into the background.

the sound design had me so tense! I swear I thought I was hearing things and not sure if it was me or the movie. We don't talk enough about sound when it comes to horror. It's honestly what really scares me, more than the actual scenes, it's the score that revs up my anxiety and fear.

All in all, the movie was really good! I'm not even a huge fan of possession horror but I was excited to see it and really glad that I did. I know it's been greenlit for a sequel which would be interesting depending on where they take the story but I'm definitely more interested in the prequel that they've already made!! I hope it gets picked up by A24 like the sequel is because I definitely would like to know more about the hand and mythology behind the "game".

Just to add on some more personal thoughts: It's interesting to me how often grief plays a role in horror. From Midsommar to Hereditary to The Babadook to classics like Pet Sematary, the list goes on. We are vulnerable when we're grieving, easier to let bad things in or ignore the people who love us who are trying to help. When I watch horror about grief, it gets to me more often than any others because I've known grief like a childhood friend. It's been with me my entire life. But I've learned to handle it better than I used to, and with movies like this it's a safe place for me to let it consume me, let it be messy and overwhelming like it is for the characters in the movie.

Anyways to wrap this up please go see Talk To Me! If you like possession movies you'll like it, if you like movies with deeper layers you'll like it, it feels like there's a little bit of everything to appeal to most horror fans.

#yami's movie thoughts #horror #a24 films #a24 horror #talk to me movie #yami's hyperfixations #horror nerd #horror fan #talk to me a24 #talk to me

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fluffycalamari · 1 year

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One Piece Relationship Headcannons

Content warning: Fluffy!!

Characters included: Luffy, Sanji, Ussop

Characters you can expect in other parts: Zoro, Law, Kid, Killer, Bartolomeo, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Buggy

Luffy

I feel like Luffy wouldn't know how to express his attraction and love for you properly. Like he loves you so much he can't physically express it the way he wants to.

He's definitely asking you if he can take your food instead of outright taking it. I can also see him offering you a LITTLE bit of his food.

Definitely gives amazing hugs

A very affectionate partner

Very blunt; doesn't matter whose around he will tell and possibly yell about how gorgeous/handsome/attractive you are.

I can see him doing this goofy little thing where he'll act like he's dying very poorly for your affection like:

"Oh noooooooo!" luffy shouts, clutching his chest; falling to the ground all in dramatic fashion. You snicker at the scene while the other straw hats continued on with what they were already doing. "I think..." he throws his hands to his forehead, palms facing the crystal clear sky. "...I think it dying!! If only...." The goofball coughs a few times too many. "[Name]!" He snaps his head to you when he says that, eyes wide, tounge hanging out. "You can save me! With a kiss! A couple of kisses and I'll be better instantly!!" Who are you to deny saving the life of your captain!? You trot right on over to him, lie on top of him and pecker his face with kisses.

Sanji

Over the top boyfriend!!

He loves you, he craves you, he adores you, he'll love you even more if you're a tad bit obsessive!!

Will love if you offer to help him cook, he loves instructing you!! Will make an amazing teacher if you want to learn to cook!

Showers you in gifts and words of affirmation, anything you do is amazing.

Hype man!!

He's a bit protective, but he trusts you entirely!!

Now when I say obsessive I don't mean it in the "I'll kill anyone for you" type of fashion. Sanji may be down bad but he isn't insane. This is what I mean:

Moments like these are what the both you crave; the ocean was calm and you guys were currently smooth sailing. You and Sanji laid together completely tangled on his bed in the male dorms. Smothering eachother in kisses and praise you cup his face. "I wish I could buy an island; kidnap you, and we could live together happily forever!" You beam and his face goes red. The fact that you basically admitted that you want to have a life with him warms his soul. AND HES THE REASON FOR YOUR HAPPINESS?!?! he'll eat that shit THE FUCK UP!!!!

Ussop:

Very flustered boyfriend

He knows exactly how he wants to show undying love to you but gets embarrassed or flustered and it never goes the way he plans. It adds to his dorky charm!!

I think he'd be constantly jealous, idunno my Usopp senses are tingling on that one

He loves to tell you stories!! Whether they're true or not.

Will tell you stories to sleep!!

Gets very defensive and will actually shoot at sanji whenever he makes a move on you

"[Name] SWAAAAAA~" The blond shouted from across the ship, running towards you with horrifying speed. It was hot as hell today, so you opted for a tank top and a pair of usopps shorts. "Hello to you too." You chuckle at his behavior, there were hearts bulgding from his eyes; literally drooling over you. "Sanji please...you know they're with Usopp, you KNOW Usopp doesn't like when you do this!!" Chopper shouts, medkit in hand; knowing how the situation was going to play out. "Sorry prince, I'm happily with Usopp; you can stop drooling over me now," You lazily smile. The blonde now on his knees banging on the ships floor dramatically shouts "What does that long nosed bastard have that I don't!! How did he manage to win your heart when I'M RIGHT HERE!!! This is-ACKK!" Sanji howls in pain as you notice rocks being shot at him. Not small rocks either, simular to an snowball. Ussop fires back to back everytime Sanji opens his mouth; only stopping when he's outta rocks. Ussop walks up to you, planting a big fat kiss on your left cheek, smiling. "I have [name], Sanji, you don't!" He retorts as Chopper quickly runs towards the1 bruised cook tensing to his injuries.

My writing is actually so bad I need to improve LMAO

#vinsmoke sanji #usopp #ussop one piece #monkey d luffy #sanji x reader #usopp x reader #luffy x reader #one piece oneshot #one piece #the one piece is real #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #gender neutral reader #gender nuetral

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sommerflue-22 · 11 months

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Childhood Crush | Muichiro Tokito

Yuichiro version

Featuring: Muichiro Tokito, Yuichiro Tokito, aged up!Muichiro

Content Warning: gn!reader, modern setting, fluff, annoying grade schooler behavior ew, but happy ending (sort of), not beta read

Word Count: 1.3k

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A/n: I just finished my thesis but I'm still waiting for feedbacks from my professor. This is a warm up piece before I get back to my other writings. Still, I hope you enjoy~

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On your fourth grade, the teacher assigned you to sit next to Yuichiro. Being Yuichiro's seatmate was alright, but sometimes he could get a little snappy. Especially when something happened to him during recess (probably couldn't make another kid the "it" while playing tag). So you let him be most of the time.

You didn't know Yuichiro had a twin brother until one day he didn't come to school because of the flu. You didn't pay him any mind but you were shocked when you saw "him" going to the restroom. You weren't exactly his close friend, so you just waited outside until "he" finished.

Afraid and in shock, you paced back and forth in front of the restroom. What if something bad happened to Yuichiro and his spirit had come to haunt you? You were so ready to run to your homeroom class if "Yuichiro" didn't come out in five minutes.

Bless your poor innocent soul because "Yuichiro" did come out. Nothing prepared him for being trapped in a kabedon position by you.

"Teacher said you're sick! Why are you here?!"

"What do you mean I'm sick--"

"I didn't see you the whole day!"

"Huh?"

"You're not a ghost, right?"

He tilted his head, "Oh, I think you're mistaken. I'm Mui. Yui's at home. He is sick."

And that was how you met Muichiro.

You learned that Muichiro was Yuichiro's younger twin brother. He's from another class, but after knowing you he often visited your class to chat with you and Yuichiro.

Unlike Yuichiro, Muichiro was friendlier. He let you braid his hair, lent you his blueberry-scented eraser, and even taught you how to draw Pikachu. Muichiro also let you call him Mui. He told you only his family and closest friends called him that, so it made you feel special.

Mui was a soft boy. You sat with him during recess and talked about random things. Cartoon, what you wanted to be when you grow up, doctor appointment, tooth fairy...

You didn't really know when did it happen the first time, but one day you looked at him and thought "Wow, Mui's really pretty."

You started braiding his long, black hair more often, told him more jokes to make him laugh, drew him a lot (and by a lot, I mean a lot) of his favorite cartoon characters. They were bad, you couldn't really tell which character you drew, but Muichiro always thanked you.

You'd like to think that maybe Muichiro did like you too. He would hold your hand when you both were running down the hallway, playing tag with the other kid. He would also give you random things he found like flowers, marbles, stickers from kids magazines.

You didn't remember every little things that happened between the two of you, but you did remember that Muichiro brightened your days and made your school years more memorable.

By the time you started the 6th grade, though, everything went downhill. A few kids noticed your little crush for Muichiro. However, as we all know, grade schoolers can be a little mean. They started to tease you. You were afraid that Muichiro would find out and stopped being your friends.

The thing was, those little rascals couldn't tell the difference between Muichiro and Yuichiro. Since the fifth grade, the twins had been put in the same homeroom class. Differentiating them became more difficult for kids who weren't their friends.

You were visiting their class one morning, looking for Muichiro. You met Yuichiro instead. You could tell it was him, because he didn't immediately talk about the latest episode of that one cartoon you liked.

"Hi, Yuichiro. Where's Mui?"

"He forgot his lunchbox so he's waiting for our mom--"

"Ew, Tokito! Stop flirting with them! It's not even the first period yet!"

You froze in your place as Yuichiro turned to the kid who jeered at you both. "What did you say?"

"Eh? Aren't you two dating?"

"(Y/N) likes you, Tokito!"

You couldn't meet Yuichiro's eyes as he stared down at you, "You like me?"

"N-no... I... It's not..."

"(Y/N)?" A hand was placed on your shoulder, "Are you okay? Yui, why are you staring at (Y/N) like that?"

You lifted your gaze and sure, Mui was back with a lunchbox on his hand. "M-Mui, I..."

"Oh, shit!" "Oi, language!" "Oh my, I think we got the wrong Tokito twin!" "Does it matter? They look the same!" "Which one do you actually like, (Y/N)?" "Yeah, which one is more handsome?" "You can tell them apart? Cool!" "Pick one, (Y/N)" "Yeah, pick one!" "Pick one! Pick one! Pick one!"

As the kids chanted, you frantically look around trying to find an escape. You were panicking, afraid, annoyed, so you couldn't think straight. You looked at Yuichiro and he looked back at you in (what you thought was) disgust. You turned to Muichiro who was just staring at you, wide eyes, lips parted like he was about to say something.

You couldn't hold it any longer so you just cried, which made a few of the kids laugh.

"(Y/N)..." Muichiro placed his hand back to your shoulder, trying to calm you down.

"Stay away, Mui!"

"But (Y/N)..."

"I said stay away!" You shoved past him and pushed the other kids out of your way as you ran out of the classroom.

Ever since that day, you stopped seeing both Muichiro and Yuichiro. Other kids still teased you but they gradually stopped because they found another target to bug. You didn't even say anything to them during the graduation ceremony, even though you could feel Muichiro's eyes on your back.

Things got better when you started middle school because you moved to another town. A start fresh, exactly what you needed. You thought you would find someone new there, but to no avail, your mind kept wandering back to a familiar pair of mint green eyes and gleeful laugh.

You gave up trying to find a lover, and sailed through high school and first two years of uni without sparing a thought for teenage romance.

That was until you found him, tracing his fingers on the spines of the library books. His hair was still as long as you could remember, the only thing different was the mint green ombre. The library was off-limit for outsiders, so he must be a student. How could you not see him before around the campus?

You realized you've stared at him for too long because the next thing you knew, he was staring back at you.

"(Y/N)?" His eyes widened.

"Uhh... hi...?" You let out a nervous laugh. "Long time no see... uh..."

His eyes softened and his lips quirked up. "It's Mui."

"Yeah... should've known it's you. Yuichiro hates me, so he wouldn't greet me like that."

"What makes you think so?"

"You know... when that happened..."

"Ah, yeah. The fuckening."

Muichiro cursing was something you did not expect, which made you snort. "The fuckening, indeed."

"Don't worry, he doesn't hate you. We were wondering, though..."

"Eh?"

"...which one of us did you fancy?"

You wanted the floor to swallow you whole right then and there. Even though it had been eight years, you couldn't help but blush. Muichiro waited patiently, holding back a giggle as he watched you struggle.

"W-well, wasn't it o-obvious..."

Muichiro tilted his head. He walked towards you and ruffled your hair. God, you didn't even notice how tall he had grown.

"If you're still up for it now... and if you're free... we can grab a coffee. My treat. I'm sure drawing each other deformed Pikachu and Princess Peach doesn't count as a date now."

You sighed, trying to control your heartbeat. Mui chuckled again and waited for your answer.

"Y-yeah, I'd love to."

"Okay." He put his arm around your shoulder and led your hyperventilating ass out of the library.

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Read the sequel to this post here

A/n: Thank you for reading until the end! This is actually longer than what I was planning, so yay :D I've been thinking about aged up!Muichiro, so cool and pretty and tall and aaaaaaa >.< Anyway lemme know if you want me to write more aged up!Mui because I love him sm T^T

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer fanfic #reader insert #muichiro tokito #yuichiro tokito #muichiro x reader #muichiro x y/n #modern setting #childhood crush #aged up characters #new blog #alternate reality

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