#congrats if you read it all and I hope i made sense

[synthshenanigans]

I'm curious as to peoples idea for what he'd do for the next power hour so

[These all being popular ideas or ppl he's mentioned]

This was all just a ploy to get you to read my info dump theory on the concept of a Chonny Jash Power Hour loser HAHAHA

Im joking tho. Not about my CJPH theory, that is very much real but I'm not forcing you to read it lol

However if you're curious, my inane rambles are further down :}

[Long Rant Post Below]

Okay so I'm gonna start with the basic idea I got it from; that being Nerd. Nerd already foreshadowed the THDPH & the WWPH [Even down to the last song for each of them] Not only that, but he references the stuff hes done in the past as well with a break/pause inbetween.

[This is what I mean]

The first three being all stuff he already did. BDG with Pocket, Tally Hall with Vol.1 & then Cage by Tim Minchin being the start the power hours.

The next two being the power hours he would do after this song [Memento Mori & Charlie's Inferno-Will Wood & That Handsome Devil]. But those are the only songs he would reference in Nerd, leaving no more clues as to what the last one would be. The only thing left in it is the video game references & Stairway to Heaven in the ending. [Which oddly enough also fit the pattern in a way. StH being about dying and the afterlife like Memento Mori & Chonny's Inferno and the video game references being all covers he made on his old channel]

While the VG refs could be a hint at a Videogame or Toby Fox Power Hour, I think at most, if its a clue at all, hinting at the next thing he does is recovering old songs.

----

Next, a couple of his songs reference his past stuff. Fine, I'm Fine has a good amount of lines that vaguely refer back to songs from the before [heres a post that goes more into it that's pretty cool!!]. And more importantly Dear Machine references Pocket, Dream (Outro from Calamity) & wings of wax. Pocket being later used in Nerd & the mention of Icarus coming back in Art. Not only that, but the voice in the very end Thermodynamic Lawyer is the exact same [if not very close to] voice filter/effect he uses in Dear Machine. Even down to the British accent he does in it. [Tho it is fairly normal for a music artist to reference their older songs in their music so it could be nothing]

Speaking of Dear Machine tho, quick thing to add about it is that it shows he not against covering his own songs. While yea technically its just a different version of Ode of the Cog, DM,HtC in a way counts as a cover of OotC. Same goes for bargaining/compromise & The Ballad of Dr. Jekyll.

----

Another idea with a CJPH is that in the CJFS discord theres a "Question of the Day" Channel. Where, as the name says, a Mod or Helper will ask a CJ related question & everyone can give their idea/imput on it. For Day 100, as a special fun lil thing, they asked Chonny if he wanted to give a question for that day. His question being:

And yes he does say that he doesnt plan on doing anything like that in future [if he even were to do it]. I fully believe he wasn't lying there & honestly I never saw him redoing any song ever until I had the idea of a CJPH [aside from stuff like Spring and a Storm & Storm and a Spring obviously]. But this is the best idea I could ever see him doing that. Also that question was from early August so a fair amount of time has passed. Whether thats enough time to equal "at least in the near future at all" I have no clue, but it is a thought.

----

One of my last points [that I remember atm lol] is on how he would end the power hours. Cos like, while yea he does whatever he wants & doesn't rlly follow what anyone says or asks [which I 100% agree with & is completely valid btw], I'd imagine he'd still want to end the PHs with a bang. Which is why I originally didnt think the recent one would be Will Wood.

He's stated a couple of time that hes one of his favorite artist & he definitely knows that a huge chunk of his fan base listen to WW as well. So why not end with that? Why not end with one of the most requested artist people wanted him to cover? Why wouldn't he end with a power hour of the artist that was his #1 on his Spotify Wrapped? What else could he do after that? Well maybe he'd go with his #2 artist? WHICH IS JUST HIMSELF BBYYYY

Plus, the name Power Hour already comes from this:

So it's very likely he's had himself play multiple times in a row & had a "Chonny Jash Power Hour".

Of course theories are just theories so there's always the chance I'm wrong & just insane. And again he does whatever he wants whenever he wants so who knows what it'll be. I just think id be an interesting idea for him to do.

As for how a Chonny Jash Power Hour would look? Maybe each song being a cover of a song from a past album or single? I'd imagine one from the before. & Covered in Discontent [maybe Gothic Whore?]. Like remake Pocket since its been referenced so much, tho that's still just a BDG cover so who knows. the before. would be interesting just to see how his perspective has changed since he originally wrote those songs. Gothic Whore he already has 2 songs that have a story version & a him version so I can see him doing another.

I HIGHLY doubt he'd do anything related to Vol.1 as its his completely separate thing & he doesn't rlly wanna touch any song that's TH/HMS related until whenever he feels like starting Vol.2 [which is valid lol]. If anything I could maybe see like TWWAY, Special or maybe Greener? Or go a different route with the og I'm Gonna Win or like a more outta the box one with like Just a Friend [only cos be did a 20 second "cover" of it in Mucka Blucka]. Again, I do not see him touching anything Vol.1 related but still something to entertain ig? [4th TME cover; The Chonny Electric when/j]

Tho maybe he'd just remake songs that he he fully made [like the before. or Gothic Whore], since those are more of actual Chonny Jash songs rather than the others just being covers. Would be very cool to maybe see a remake of some of his Majora's Mask song tho [no this isn't me coping over HEAL not being on spotify shush]. Or maybe he'd do songs from his old stuff like Don't Take it Personally? [also not me coping over wanting that song on Spotify too]

Idk these are just my thoughts on the idea of a CJPH [or even a Can of Soup Power Hour/j]. Either way I am gonna say idc what he'd do, BDG or Streetlight Manifesto are my other guesses, but anything he makes is always rll good & fun so I'll be interested to see whatever it is.

But ya know considering I typed all this out in the span of an hour & a half I kinda hope im not wrong PFFT

[unsolvedjarin]

Hi! If this inspires you, could you write a platonic fic where reader (who is around Charles’ age and is also teammates with him at Ferrari) is on the podium alongside him and Seb (this being set when Seb is at AM), but like that video or Lewis (that I can’t remember when it’s from) she already seemed exhausted while receiving her trophy, and when they exit the podium, she collapses onto Seb? Just hurt/comfort vibes from both drivers, really. Maybe Seb is close to her like a mentor, he’s worried about her? I think that’s it. Even if you don’t find it inspiring, thank you for sharing your fics. They’re really good. 😊💚

note: thank you for the kind words anon! i saw the word “exhausted” in the request and i kinda ran with it so this might have strayed from the original idea a little bit, but i hope it’s to your liking!

gif by overtake

THERE FOR YOU

pairing: (sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader, can be read as platonic or romantic) (charles leclerc x platonic! reader)

summary: you overwork yourself, and pay the consequences for it by passing out on the podium. lucky for you, a certain german driver has the means to catch you and take care of you.

word count: 2.1k

content warning: hurt/comfort, mostly fluff, not grammar checked writing because its 2am

You were going to throw up or faint any time now, you were sure of it.

“Are you sure you’re good?” A voice asked from beside you. You recognized it to be Charles, who was preparing for the race the same as you were.

“With this excessive asking I won’t be,” you retorted.

“I’m just looking out for you, amour. You haven’t been looking great.”

He was right, you looked awful. Everyone knew Spa was a tough track, but you looked like you had just gotten back from war— and the Sunday race hadn't even started yet.

You’d been feeling horrible all Saturday, but decided to ignore it. After all, Ferrari was counting on you that day to get a high position in quali since Charles was out in Q2.

You were starting in 4th today, Ferrari praising you for your good qualifying result. But the sleepless nights on the simulator along with the strain of being in a car going roughly 200 mph yesterday were detrimental to your health.

But of course, you were too stubborn to call in sick for Sunday— Ferrari was counting on you. And you couldn’t let them down.

“AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT IN SPA!”

The race was long and tedious, but eventually you managed to overtake Lewis and end up p3. Considering the heavy rain and how Charles spun out, you were surprised you even made it to the top 5.

You can’t remember how the race ended as you exited your car, weaker than you’ve ever felt before. The roar of the Tifosi was loud, cheering on your podium win. Whenever you won or got a podium they made you feel proud, a large grin on your face and goosebumps all over.

But not today.

Today, it was too loud. Too overwhelming. You could feel your head ache and pound at the noise. You felt a hand on your shoulder, Max coming to congratulate you. You think he had won the race but you couldn’t be sure, everything was too hazy.

“Congrats Y/N! Your first podium this season!”

You give Max a weak smile and a firm handshake, the pressure almost making your vision fade. God you needed to get out of there.

You looked around, there had to be an exit. Some place where you could rest your head for a second and regain your senses.

Thankfully, a guiding hand led you to the cooldown room, and you recognized it as Sebastian’s. He had gotten 2nd, that you knew, you were battling for his position earlier.

Once you got inside the cooldown room, there was no other word that could describe it but moist. The rain outside had moistened up the inside, barely enough to be noticeable, but to you, sweaty from the race and sick, it was enough to have you stumbling onto your chair.

Sebastian could sense something was wrong, he wasn’t stupid. To someone else you would’ve just seemed like someone who was simply exhausted from a race, but he wasn’t someone else. He knew you.

Before he could ask you about it, however, a man led all three of you out the cooldown room to go to the podium itself. You were moving with half-lidded eyes, and a really really sweaty body.

“And in third, the Ferrari favorite, Y/N L/N!”

You raise your arms as high as you can and put up two thumbs up, exerting all your effort to put up a show for the fans. They deserve it, you think.

Unbeknownst to you however, Charles was watching from the side with a worried look. He was the only one who knew about your sickness the past few days, and his concerned eyeing was not ignored by an observant Vettel.

The champagne spraying was everything but fun, the overstimulation getting to you. It was too much, everything was too much.

The sickness, the sweat, the champagne dripping down your face— you just needed to rest for a second, just…lay down maybe…

“Scheiße!” Sebastian shouted out, his voice not heard over the hollering of the fans. With all the chaos of the spraying of champagne and the bellows of the orange army, no one had noticed how you had fallen into Sebastian’s arms, passed out. He had dropped his champagne in the process, and the breaking of the glass was what had gotten Max to notice what happened. He discreetly ushered Charles, who was still watching from the sidelines, to help Sebastian pull your dull body away from the limelight.

People were starting to notice now, and there were worried glances among the fans and the teams, but were eventually calmed down by false reassurances of ‘everything is fine.’

It was not.

You were burning up, a fever so high it would put the sun to shame. Not only that, but Sebastian had noted how you seemed more physically worn than before. Not an unhealthy amount, god knows being an F1 driver wouldn’t allow that, but enough for it to be noticeable.

You were awake at this point already, but still weak. Lying down on a bed in the First Aid tent, your eyes threatened to close on you again, before Ferrari’s resident emergency doctor walked in.

“Well the good news is we don’t have to bring you to a hospital, you just have to get some food in your body and rest.”

That reassured Sebastian a little, but not enough. He needed to see you healthy and well, or he would be a nervous wreck all week. Thanking the doctor, he was left alone in the room with you again.

As much as he wanted to be there for you, Charles was held up by media duties, which meant that it was only you and Sebastian for a good while.

The German had always been kind to you. Not only was he your friend, but he’d also taught you everything he knew, and half your skills were something you had learnt from him. He was your support system, the one who always helped you when you were down, and the one who always had your back as you had his.

That’s why Sebastian didn’t understand why you hadn’t told him about your current ailment.

“When was the last time you slept?” Sebastian asked, the first words he’s spoken to you all day.

Shrugging faintly, you answer, “I don’t know.”

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“No.”

“Have you drank anything today?”

“Some Red Bull,” you mumbled, while attempting to slowly sit up on your bed.

Sebastian sighed. You weren’t taking care of yourself and it was killing him. “Why didn’t you sit this one out if you knew you were sick since yesterday?”

A beat of silence passes, and Sebastian could sense you contemplating if you should tell him the truth or not. He hoped you would do the former.

“…Because Ferrari is counting on me,” you finally answered meekly.

Of course. That was why. Your feeling of obligation to constantly deliver for your team was a feeling each driver shared with their own, but you always went above and beyond. ‘Couldn’t you see how you were much more important than some stupid points?’ Sebastian thinks.

Frowning, he sits down on a chair beside your bed, taking your warm hand and holding it with his own. “Schatzi, you’re hurting yourself. I know you want to deliver for yourself and your team, but this is not the way. If you keep going like this you’ll be sleeping at the wheel and end up worse than you are now. Please, I beg you, take a break.”

You wince internally at his words. He was right. You’d end up in a worse condition if you keep this up and disappoint your team even more.

“I just want to prove myself to Ferrari. Tell them I’m worth it to keep, you know? My contract is expiring soon, and I honestly don't know if any team would pick me up. I feel so— so lost and so hopeless— if I lose my seat I don’t know what to do. I mean I’ve built my entire life up to this, and now I just feel like a burnt out shitty driver.”

You had tears welling in your eyes, and Sebastian was quick to grab some tissue from the bedside table and wipe them away. He hated how you thought so low of yourself, he wished you could see yourself from his view, one of the best drivers and people he’s ever met.

“Your seat doesn’t measure your worth, Amore. Trust me, I know. After Ferrari I didn’t know what to do or where to go, my ‘golden boy’ status had faded and not a lot of teams wanted me anymore. But look at me, I’m here. I’m okay. And you will be too, just not like this.”

His words broke your composure, finally letting out all the stress and pain you’ve endured for days— weeks, even— in the form of full on sobbing. You were grateful for the privacy the room provided, as Sebastian hugged you tightly, not caring if he got your fever too. He whispered sweet words to you, stroking your hair and calming you down.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you darling. Just let it all out,” you hear him murmur into your hair. You’re sure he said more things, but you couldn’t really hear them over the sound of your own sobs.

Eventually the dam dried up, and you attempted to compose yourself and wipe away all the evidence of your tears. Sebastian still held your hand, rubbing it reassuringly, reminding you of his presence. He was always constant in your life. You were thankful for that.

You both sat in the comfortable silence, allowing it to calm you after everything that just happened.

“I’m retiring next year,” Sebastian says out of the blue.

Okay, now you’re no longer calm again.

“I just thought you should be the first to know,” he adds.

“Wh- what? Why? You’re leaving? But no— you’re a pinnacle of the sport! You’re Sebastian Vettel! You can’t leave! You can’t just retire and leave me and- and-” you were starting to see black spots again, your emotions making you forget you were still physically weak.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for him to say that out of nowhere, Seb thinks. But it was now or never, and he wanted you to know before everybody else did. He wasn’t going to tell anyone in advance, but you were special to him. He couldn’t explain it, but you made him realize things in life. The way you enjoyed the little things, the way you laughed at stupid dad jokes, it made Sebastian miss the freedom of just…existing without having to worry about race after race after race.

Silencing you by enveloping your frantic hand with both of his larger ones and shushing you, he replied, “Calm down Liebling, I’m not leaving you. You still have me outside the track, you can visit me anytime and I would gladly let you in. I wouldn’t dare leave your life just like that, I’d never do that to you.”

You smiled softly at his words. He’d never do that to you. That’s why you loved him, whatever type of love it was. He was always there; a constant figure, and that wasn’t about to change. Sure you’d see each other less, but the love would still be there, and that’s all that would matter.

“I would get up and hug you, but I think we’ve both noticed that my body has decided to stop working on me,” you joke. Sebastian rolls his eyes in response, “And who’s fault is that?”

Oops. He got you there. “Mine,” you reply bashfully.

Thankfully he takes pity on you, and adjusts himself instead. “Scooch.” You move aside, giving him space to sit up beside you in your First Aid bed.

Putting his arm around you, he rubs your shoulder gently as you rest your head on his chest. This was nice.

“Don’t you have media duties? Aston Martin will kill you if you miss those,” you ask softly.

Sebastian simply shrugs, “You are more important to me than some reporters milking me for content like I’m a cow.”

His wording made you giggle, and the sound of you happy again makes Sebastian smile. He was going to get a scolding later for missing his duties, and he was definitely going to catch your cold from keeping you this close too, but it was all worth it when he heard that sound of laughter leave your throat.

The next season may be rough, it may not be as kind as this one was. It will be different, it will be lonelier, and it will feel lacking without Sebastian. But right now, as you sit on a bed in comfortable silence in a First Aid tent in Spa, being cared for by a man you care for, you get the sneakiest feeling that yeah— everything will be okay.

[acey-wacey]

Good morning!!! Congrats for hitting 2000 followers, I think you really deserve it! Also, I'm really glad that you've returned! I've been following your blog ever since last year, when I found your "Love Rivals" and "Meeting your future children", I really like how you portray the twst characters in your writings! There are times where I smiled For the 2000 milestone event, could I please request Idia with Lavender (Mind Reading)? You know how Idia usually think lowly himself, right? What if Idia has feelings for reader, yet he doesn't take action because of his low self-esteem/fear of rejection, but when Idia got in a potion accident where he can temporarily read minds, all he can hear from reader's mind are praises and thoughts of infatuation/admiration about him.

So that's the general idea of it, the rest is up to you. Also, I don't mind if you'll make a few changes here and there. That's all, thank you and have a nice day!

This is so cute! Thank you for hanging around so long!

I may have niche-video-game-referenced my way a little too close to the sun with this one. Hopefully, it makes sense to somebody.

...

Pairing - Idia Shroud x Reader

Prompt - Mind Reader

...

"Tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna..."

It has been 40 minutes since Idia had gained his powers of telepathy and already he wanted them gone. Grim hadn't had a single thought the entire class except a dumb song he made up about tuna.

The whole thing had been Grim's fault really. The mischievous cat had run away from you and invaded the 3rd year alchemy room. And of course he ran right into Idia just as the upperclassman was adding ground eye of newt to his animal comprehension potion, causing the vial to smash all over him.

You had apologized profusely and tried to wrangle Grim back to your classroom, but Crewel made you miss your class and clean all the dirty cauldrons as punishment, thus why Idia couldn't stop hearing Grim's

Everyone else went on with making their potion, but unfortunately for Idia and his tendency to get overstimulated, he could hear the immediate thoughts of every person in the classroom. He had been trying and failing to pay attention to the lesson due to the crazy noise. Serves him right for daring to venture outside his room.

"I think I put too much nightshade."

"When's lunch again?"

"Sevens, he's pretty."

Idia perked up in his seat. That last one was your voice. He looked over to where you were scrubbing grime off the rim of a black cauldron. Much to his surprise, he made eye contact with you. You looked away so fast, he almost thought he imagined it in the first place.

"Shoot, I hope he didn't catch me staring," you thought. Idia could see the embarrassment in your face now that he knew what he was looking for. He didn't know who was standing behind him, but whoever the guy was was maxed out in luck to get the prefect to like him.

Idia turned back to his cauldron and began to stir lethargically. He tried to block out the noise coming from everyone's thoughts but it was getting very loud. He just wanted to be back in his room playing video games!

"His little pout is so cute! Poor thing, he probably wishes he was back in his room," you thought. Idia's brows furrowed as he subtly looked around the classroom trying to find the person you were thinking about. "I wonder what he's looking for."

Idia snapped back to look at you, only to find you glancing at him again. This time, you were startled but you held his gaze and offered a hesitant wave.

Idia turned his face away as fast as he could so you wouldn't see the growing blush on his face.

"Hm, his hair is turning pink on the ends. I hope he's not mad at me for staring at him," you thought, turning back to the cauldron you were working on. "Though if he doesn't want me to look at him, maybe he should try being less nice to look at."

Idia let out an involuntary squeak. He felt his head start to swim and quickly sat down on a nearby stool. He was sure he looked absolutely crazy to the other students but he was so preoccupied by your thoughts that were apparently about him.

"Is that shallow of me to think that? I don't know. I mean, I don't like him just because he's cute. I also love listening to him talk about games he likes and his inventions are crazy awesome!"

Idia pulled himself deeper into his jacket. Your gaze had been fixed firmly on your work for fear of being caught staring again, so you didn't notice Idia's rapidly increasing fluster meter.

"I like how sweet he is to Ortho, even though he kind of hates everyone else." You sounded kind of defeated when you thought that, or at least you would if your thoughts sounded like anything. "He probably hates me too. I am just another normie. Though I don't know if he co-ops Untitled Goose Game with just anyone."

"No! I don't!" he wanted to scream, but he couldn't get a single sound out of his mouth. He thought he was the self-deprecating one, but you seemed to have convinced yourself that the boy who had a big fat, very obvious crush on you hated you. He even let you play the blue switch controller even though it was his favorite.

"I do wish he would stop being so mean to himself though," you thought, more sincere than Idia expected. "He's so amazing, but refuses to believe anything nice I or Ortho say to him. Maybe if he read my mind, he'd know I'm being sincere."

Idia froze. Did you know about the potion? Had you been messing with him the whole time?

"Well, that little brat better believe me when I tell him I love him even if I have to beat it into him with a Wii remote tennis racket attachment," you thought with a playful vengeance. "Do you hear that, Idia Shroud? I'm gonna make you believe nice things about yourself no matter how many niche video games references it takes!"

That was the moment you decided to glance at Idia, downright shocked when you found him curled up inside his hoodie on a stool with bright pink hair poking out the top.

"Idia, are you okay?" you asked. When he didn't respond, you went up to him and brought your face down to where his would be if you could see it. "Hey, are you alright?"

He jumped, almost falling off the chair.

"You actually said that?" he looked stunned which confused you.

"Yes?" you offered, unsure what he was talking about. "I did just say it."

"Uh, um, I'm, uh, fine," Idia tried to smile at you but it came off more pained than reassuring.

"I don't believe you. What's the matter? Is it too loud in here?" you asked.

"Shame he's always hiding his face. His blush is so adorable!"

"Yes!" Idia shrieked frantically, catching the attention of a few nearby students. "It's too loud. I can't think."

You nodded empathetically.

"You wanna step out for a minute?" you offered, gesturing to the door with a nod of your head. Idia nodded, desperate to get away. It really was very loud, especially with everyone's thoughts flooding his brain. Your seemingly-harmless sweet nothings were only the final nail in his coffin.

You followed Idia out of the room and shut the door behind you.

"Won't Professor Crewel get mad?"

You scoffed.

"Not a single teacher at this school gets to get mad at me after everything I've done," you leaned against the wall with a calming smile. "And if they do, they'll answer to the ghosts that live in my house."

That made Idia chuckle. You lit up seeing a smile on his face, no matter how minute.

"I love seeing you smile. If only I could be the reason more often."

"You're pretty much the only reason," Idia mumbled. Your easy smile dropped.

"What did you say?"

"What?" Idia averted his eyes, his mind filling with panic. "I didn't say anything."

"No, no, you said 'you're pretty much the only reason'," you questioned, your eyes full of confusion and shock. "That sounded like... I don't know, I was thinking something and then you said that and it sounded like..."

You squinted in confusion before scoffing at yourself and relaxing.

"That's stupid, Y/N. He can't read your mind."

"Actually, I can?" Idia squeaked, his voice getting higher with every word. Your eyes widened.

"Idia," you said solemnly, standing dead still.

"Mm-hm?"

"You can read my mind."

"Well, not usually, but there was a thing with a potion and it was with Grim and it messed with my head and now I can read minds and it's actually really loud but mostly I'm just nervous because of the stuff you've been thinking and I'm just really..."

You held up a hand to silence Idia's rapid rambling. He looked away sheepishly. You sighed and blinked a few times to process before laughing. Idia looked up in confusion.

"Aren't you mad?" he asked hesitantly. "I violated your privacy."

"I mean, you saved me the time of confessing to you myself," you chuckled, a giddy smile on your face.

Idia stared at you, trying to find traces of joking but you seemed to be serious.

"You aren't mad?"

"I'm in love with you is what I am."

[lilacstro]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ this time I want you..˚ʚ♡ɞ˚.... pac: where is this crush heading ♡

lol not me posting pacs on the songs that play on my spotify on shuffle. Nvm. Let's go>>>

We will be doing an energy check to confirm this is your pile :)

decks used: spirit speak, vessel oracle// cupid says and poesis oracle for energy check

paid readings are open xoxo, leave suggestions or feedback :)

pile 1 pile 2 pile 3

support me on ko-fi :)

Pile 1

Energy check

I feel you guys are actually confused, maybe asking someone else (like friends or family about advice probably), it is even possible that you guys might be thinking some worst case scnearios. Some of you might be feeling impulsive to just confess your feelings. It feels you are excessively overthinking and are unable to make any decision. There is confusion and restlessness . If this sounds like you currently, then congrats, this is your group.

where is this crush heading?

Interesting. The information here matches the energy check. You are definitely anxious, be it because of what the future might be or maybe because of a past event. First of all pile 1, relax. What is yours aint going nowhere. There is desire to rush and take things fast, but leave fast, you are not even starting anywhere lmao. I feel you are holding all these feelings tightly inside of yourself I do not know why. There is indeed a offer for love you want to make, of course there is a page of cups here. The next crescent moon might be important.

I also feel either of you are looking them up on social media or paying a lot of attention to the other.

Now, if you guys trust in yourselves, the situation and confess your feelings, something might happen here, the chances seem good. Why you may ask? The Knight of cups, is over the Lovers on the back of the deck. What else of a confirmation do we need that you SHOULD confess your feelings. I cannot tell if your feelings would be reciprocated back immediately or at all since this a general reading, but despite of anyone choosing you or not, at least you will choose yourself and become one with yourself, and make some peace with the fact that the piece you gave away, has now returned to you, I hope I am making sense :)

Pile 2

Energy check

Hmmm the situation here is very specific, it feels either you have confessed to the person and they did not reciprocate. There is a chance you either have already either felt some kind of rejection to this person or have rejected yourself before even starting. There is some hurt and wounds, and it is possible it may be because people told you something? someone said something? This situation actually is under your control regardless. If someone has made you feel some way, pull your feelings back and see your worth and move away. If someone said something, be brave and confront the person and whoever that concerns. You can change this situation regardless. And, the outcome of this situation would be something totally unexpected, magical, in a good way :)

If this sounds like you currently, then congrats, this is your group.

Where is this crush heading?

This again matches what I have written before. You are trying to hold your love offer and feelings back, but there is a difference in this and Pile 1. Pile 1 held back out of fears around themselves, you are holding back because of others. You might feel you are in somebody's competition. The song gold rush by Taylor Swift can be significant to your situation. "everybody wants you, but I don't want a gold rush"

You are so hopeful that your love be reciprocated is one thing I feel. But your mind is telling yourself to hold back, and maybe even your intuition, which I instead feel is anxiety. I wanted to see what would be the outcome for your situation so I pulled a few extra cards, and I see blurting all your emotions out. I know y'all be like WTF ARE YOU SAYING EVERYWHERE LILAC. DID WE NOT KNOW SOMETHING AS SIMPLE AS THIS HUH? well, maybe you did not? i mean, I will just say whatever I see and feel even if it is same all throughout lol. Speak your emotions and I feel there is a chance you would feel very bad and anxious at once but it would eventually get better. and if you cannot do that, i would say maybe walk away and love someone who probably does not make you so anxious and miserable maybe? Because the out come to either of these things you do, would lead to some love offer coming in for you, a happy ending either from this person or someone else, but you would be their dream come true. If you speak your emotions and even are turned down, atleast you released negativity and can move on freely now and let someone new come in :). Regardless, I STRONGLY see romance and abundance coming in for you, but after some kind of communication. This is even further double clarified by oracle cards

I wish you so much love and light <33

Pile 3

Energy check

this feels like a peaceful energy tbh. there are not too many firecrackers at the moment, maybe you are just feeling the beauty of the feelings and just choosing to keep them inside purposefully? it feels like either you are mature or this is a new a crush. You are choosing the easier way out for now, which probably is just enjoying harboring these feelings in silence. But I would say, if you feel you have grown out of this little home and phase, do not suffocate yourself and grow out of it, and take the next step, whatever that feels to you. Do not force yourself to reject the intensity of your feelings to play it cool. If you do not wanna reveal your feelings, it is fine. But, if not being honest with the other person, be honest with yourself. Feel those feelings inside you and accept these feelings inside yourself, this will help in the real grounding of your emotions. Do not feel alone inside by suppressing things too much :)

If this sounds like you currently, then congrats, this is your group.

Where is this crush heading?

Well, I do not think there would be any much progress or change to this situation yet, primarily because you do not want to do anything much about it just yet ig. I do not know, but I have a feeling some of you guys are probably depressed, maybe something else happened, so basically there is this feeling of "who cares life is already taking a troll on me, yeah I like this person and whatever but I don't have the time and resources to entertain this just yet" The feelings here just feel at the start, there is a lot of development to go through with your relationship to this person and your feelings towards them, this is not at a ripe stage just yet. I would suggest showing some compassion to yourself. You have multiple choices, multiple things to do I feel, and amidst this, I hope you drink enough water and take a good rest and take care of yourself. Spend time with people who you love, celebrate little things, irdk why am i getting numb feelings inside this pile.

lyrics from emi beehold's song numb little bug came up: "sometimes do you get little bit tired of life, like you not really happy but you don't wanna die, you're hanging by a thread but you gotta survive, you gotta survive :/"

sending you love and hugs :)

[vhstown]

time out (part 1)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)

PART 2 → / THE AU

"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"

Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.

The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.

Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.

CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered

IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered

You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.

why arent my texts sending Not delivered

miles??? Not delivered

Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.

"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?

Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.

It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.

There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.

Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?

You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…

Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.

"Hello?"

"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.

"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."

"Oh… Do you know where they went?"

"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"

"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.

"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"

"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.

"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…

"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."

"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.

"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.

"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)

Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."

There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.

"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."

"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.

"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.

"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."

“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)

“Sí, tía.”

The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…

But why weren't your texts going through?

miles are you ok? Not delivered

im really proud of you Not delivered

i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered

It wasn’t like there was much point, but…

i love you Not delivered

Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.

Hey man

Out of town

LMK if miles breaks in

You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.

sure Read at 11:24PM

are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM

Ping!

Yeah

@ Queens

Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?

You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.

The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.

THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!

"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.

Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.

The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...

It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.

It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.

And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.

“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”

“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”

“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”

“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”

The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—

"Miles!"

The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?

The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.

You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—

"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"

The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.

Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.

Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.

"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.

"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.

"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."

Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn’t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.

"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.

“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"

"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"

"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.

“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”

If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”

You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”

“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.

“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”

“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”

His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?

“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?

“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.

“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.

“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?

“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.

The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.

“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.

“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”

The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.

“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.

“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.

“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”

“You a doctor now?”

“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”

Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.

“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.

“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.

Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…

“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.

“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.

“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.

“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”

“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.

“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.

“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”

The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.

Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.

Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.

“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.

He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”

“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”

“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.

“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.

The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”

All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.

🕸️🔭👾

thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again

this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au

reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)

catch my atsv masterlist here !

[lizardkingeliot]

Congrats on your freedom from the mess!

I'm having a craving to read a scene where Louis is defending Lestat to someone. I'm not particular about the context but I hope that we'll get some "that's my husband and only I can talk shit about him" energy from Louis in the show too. But I'd settle for a few hundred words from you! ❤️

Okay. So. When I started writing this I challenged myself to keep it under 500 words and... lmao. Well. It ended up being almost 1500. Because of course. But ANYWAY I hope you're here for some Rockstar Lestat and Photographer Louis because that's what this ended up being. The urge to turn this into a longer fic is STRONG but I'm resisting for now. After I finish my current wip I might come back to it and fill it out and pop it up on AO3. IDK... we'll see lol.

Anyway I'm sticking most of this under a cut. Thank you for this lovely prompt and I hope you enjoy it!

—

Louis emerged from the dressing room first. Leaned against the wall outside the door and started fiddling with his camera. Checking over the pictures he’d taken just moments ago. Lestat—a ring of vanity lights like a halo around the mirror behind him. Lestat—purple leather pants, lime green crop top, the word Slut scrawled in sparkly cursive on the chest. Lestat—golden hair gleaming in the artificial light. Eyes on the camera, on Louis where he stood a safe distance away beyond the lens. Pink mouth slightly parted just so, just so…

Lestat walked out not a minute after Louis and was instantly surrounded by a horde of people. His tour manager, his agent, Daniel Molloy, a handful of nondescript faces attached to bodies Louis didn’t know. Lestat scowled and waved them all away from him at once, muttering his annoyance under his breath in French.

Lestat’s whole body swayed as he walked. Pants sitting low on his hips. Hips like weapons, swell of his ass like a homing beacon. And Louis almost forced himself to look away when Lestat stopped, and turned back. And met Louis’ gaze across the distance. His eyes lined in smudgy black lighting up in exactly the way they’d been when Louis viewed him through the lens of his camera moments ago. Mouth quirking up in a secret smile meant for Louis and Louis alone.

Louis smiled back, couldn’t help it. Stomach doing some truly impressive acrobatics when Lestat turned away and disappeared in the direction of the stage. He was grateful for the wall for reminding his body to stay upright. He forced a breath, was just about to turn his eyes back to his camera when the muffled conversation two roadies were having over by the loading bay invaded his senses.

“Did you see what he’s wearing now?” Roadie Number One asked with a self-satisfied little laugh. The sound of it was instantly grating. It was such a pompously human sound. “For fuck’s sake, man.”

“Like I said before,” Roadie Number Two offered in a casual, gravelly tone. One hand on a flight case, the other fiddling with the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear. “The whole fruit basket, that one. Talk about shoving it in your face.”

Louis tipped his head to one side. Watched them both with big unblinking eyes as they started moving down the hall in the direction of the stage. His pulse beating slow and steady inside him. Moving the blood through his veins at a calculating, almost predatory pace.

—

After the show, backstage was the usual chaos. A sea of people and their sounds. Lestat’s team, his band, his groupies. Equipment being rushed back out the way it had come in. And though Louis had been standing just off stage and watched with his own two eyes as Lestat made his exit following his second encore. Had snapped one final picture in the split second before Lestat passed by and their hands—very intentionally, on Lestat’s part at least—brushed together. Suddenly, Lestat was nowhere to be found.

Louis screwed the lens from his camera, tucked everything away in his case and slung the strap over his shoulder. The moment he lifted his head, he saw them. Roadie One and Roadie Two. And hunger grumbled deep inside him. And it dawned on Louis all at once that he’d been so busy tonight he hadn’t actually fed.

He could have just let it go. He should have. Human beings—what did they matter? But Lestat wasn’t around and the thought that he was off with some groupie getting his dick wet pissed him off just enough for the hunger to spur him forward. He moved without even thinking to, and in a blink he was standing in front of Roadie Number Two. Crowding him against the flight case he’d been hauling. So close their noses nearly touched.

“Hello,” Louis said. Roadie Two’s eyes went wide as two big moons. “I have a question for you—”

“Hey, man, what the f—”

Louis choked off the man’s voice with a thought at once. Vampiric power working like a hand around his throat.

“Don’t be rude when your elders are speaking.” Louis took a single calculated step back. Roadie Two was trembling in his black jeans. Louis didn’t even have to hold him in place. Frozen with terror, the man couldn’t move. And Louis grinned. “Now—my question. And I do think you of all people can help me with this one.”

Louis listened to the tangle of thoughts in his head. A litany of curses. An endless slew of fear and dark and what the fuck what the fuck. People were rushing all around them. Louis thought, distantly—maybe—that Daniel was saying his name.

“Do you happen to know where I might find a fruit basket in this city?”

Louis laughed, a dark and wobbling sound. The hunger had him by the belly. He had to fight against his fangs to keep them from popping out.

There were tears in Roadie Two’s wide moon eyes that didn’t blink. He found the strength to reach up with one hand and paw uselessly at his own throat. Thick rasping sounds falling out of it as he fought against the Dark Gift’s suppression of his breath.

Louis laughed again.

“Yeah,” Louis said, and tipped his head to one side. And watched the artery throb with blood on the side of the roadie’s thick neck. “That’s what I thought. Not so easy to get those smartass words of yours out now, is it? You know, next time maybe you should try sayin’ that shit to—”

“Louis.”

Lestat. Behind him. Heartbeat like a siren. Warm, gushing sound of life like a song inside his veins. Louis’ mind stumbled over itself for a fraction of a second and he lost his hold on Roadie Two’s throat. And the man crumbled down to his knees in a coughing fit in an instant.

“Louis,” Lestat said again. And Louis spun around. And—

Smudged eyeliner. Pink mouth. Golden hair skimming bare shoulders. At some point between the stage and right then, Lestat had lost his shirt.

“Lestat.” Louis straightened his neck, gripped the strap of his camera case just to have something to hold onto. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he knew Lestat could hear it. “Hey, uh, so—”

“Cheri, I know you’re hungry, but I believe it would be ill-advised to eat the roadies.”

Louis drew a breath, huffed it out, distantly aware that Roadie Two was half-crawling, half-running away behind him. “Wasn’t gonna eat him. Just—” He huffed another breath. “And please don’t call me—”

“You were sticking up for me.”

Smudged eyeliner. Blue eyes shining in those messy rings of black. Louis’ heartbeat was a kick pedal drum inside his chest.

“Just didn’t care for his tone, is all.” Louis tried for casual, but the words came out all wrong. Like suddenly he was the one being choked. “He said—”

“I know what he said, cheri.” One corner of Lestat’s mouth twitched, amused and annoyed all at once. “Excusez-moi—Louis.” Head tipped to one side. Eyes sweeping appraisingly over Louis’ face, down to his chest. Blue eyes limned in so much black. “They always say these things. The two of them. Like school boys. They cannot help that they are wildly attracted to me.”

At that—Louis instantly started to laugh. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Smudged eyeliner. Leaning close. Lestat put his hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Well, yes,” he said very quietly. Voice a husky rumble pouring from his throat. “That is what they tell me.”

Warm breath on Louis’ neck. Lestat pulled back, and all the people rushing around them suddenly melted away. And it was just the two of them. And there was a glint in Lestat’s eyes like he’d just won a game neither of them had even realized they were playing. Or that they’d both been playing with their whole chests, and now their chests were caving in. And the game was over.

And Lestat was clutching the prize with both hands.

And Louis was going to let him have it.

“Yeah, so—anyway.” Louis took a slow, deep breath. Slowly, slowly let it come rushing back out. He begged his heart to stop selling him out and to settle. “I’m starving. You wanna hunt?”

Smudged eyeliner. Pink mouth falling open with just the tiniest hint of his fangs poking out. “I would love to hunt with you, cheri,” Lestat said.

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Hiya Mo! Congrats on such an amazing achievement! If it's not too much trouble, may I request something for Alfie Solomons using the following prompts please?

"Can you please just shut up for once?" + “you fell asleep in my arms. it was kind of adorable.”

Thank you (no pressure though)! And congrats again ♥️♥️

Hi my darling V!! This was so much fun to write! I hope you enjoy it my love!!!

100 Follower Celebration:

Evenings at Home

Alfie Solomons x Reader, Warnings: Language

Some people may think that a regular routine is something to be avoided. That the repetitive rhythm of life is synonymous to the shackles of a boring life which must broken as soon as it is noticed. But this isn't how you and Alfie saw your evenings together much less your life together.

The life as the King of Camden brought too many uncertainties. The business moved far too quickly in various directions, and the threats on Alfie's life were too numerous and too far reaching. The life of the King of Camden was anything but normal and ordinary and routine. Which is why Alfie craved and yearned for normalcy in his private life, and why he clung to your with all 10 of his bejewled fingers. You brought a sense of peace to his life. You brought an outlet where Alfie wasn't the Mad Baker, a ferocious man to be feared. With you he could simply be your husband. With you he could simply be Alfie. With you he could simply be a man coming home to his spouse and his dog after a day at the office. The tranquility and predictability of a warm home and loving kisses did more in mending his soul than any amount of riches and power and drink could ever do in a thousand years.

It was so that at 6pm on the dot that Alfie shut down the office and made his way to you, ensuring that no one would interrrupt any precious time with you. Dinner would be set, a fire would be going, and only candles would be lit to warm Alfie's bones and spirit. After dinner Alfie would drag you to the sitting room, with the radio softly humming in the corner, and your angelic voice reading from a book you both were working through. Alfie allowed himself the luxury of laying his head across your soft thighs, interrupting every so often to chastise the characters in the novel for being stupid.

This evening's reading was Wurthering Heights, a torrid and haunting love affair that expanded through the decades destroying the broken soul of a hardened man. The burning words on the page took your breath away, and you found yourself lost in the poetic and scorching story. Alfie however was lost in the way you breath hitched, and the dreamy way your voice wove the images into an ornate tapestry before his eyes. The voice of his angel and the feelings of your cool fingers through his soft thick hair was gently sending him off into a sweet sleep.

It wasn't until you heard the rumbling snores of your beloved below you did you realize that Alfie had actually fallen asleep in your lap. You smile softly, biting your lip to keep yourself from chuckling. He hates falling asleep in front of you like this. He would much rather kiss you to sleep in bed It's my duty as a husband sweet. The man doesn't fall asleep before his sweet heart and before he gives her a proper evening of affection.

But oh how you cherished these moments. You worried about him. Constantly. You wished he didn't have so much on his shoulders and on his brow. In the waking hours you did whatever you could to make his home sweet and comfortable and easy, anything to help alleviate the stress. But in sleep you could see the pay off. The softness of his face. The firm set of his mouth relaxed as melodic snores fall out of his lips. Those long lashes carressing his scarred cheek. You softly pet and carded your fingers through his hair and his beard, taking in his beautiful features. This in of itself was a treasure. No one else got to see him like this. No one else got to see Alfie Solomons as you did.

All too suddenly Alfie started awake, and you cursed yourself inwardly for possibly awaking him. With a quick inhale Alfie stuttered, "What happened? Did I fall asleep on ya?"

You bit your cheek, attempting to settle him back down in your lap, "Mmhmm. You fell asleep in my arms. It was kind of adorable really."

Alfie drug himself off your lap, "Adorable? Nah nah fuck no. Men are not adorable. Solomons are not adorable they are ferocious and and... handsome!"

You laughed at the sudden reddening of his cheeks. "While all that is true my love, the fact remains that it was sweet! You're very sweet in sleep."

Like a pouting child Alfie strongly disagreed, "You are out of line. Letting me fall asleep like that. Betrayer. What do I always say? You sleep first, then me. I'm the man yeah? I kiss your pretty head stupid and I fall asleep second. Now look at yeah. Completely changing the order of things. I mean is nothing sacred anymore? Next you'll want to run the rum house too eh?"

His rambling and ranting sent you into a fit of laughter. Because truly no one could be more ridiculous and ludicrous than your husband. As he was still raving you crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his heated neck, "Can you please just shut up for once?"

You pressed your lips to his, immediately silencing him, and feeling his strong and thick arms wrap around you, bringing you closer against his chest. Only when your body was begging for air did you pull away, seeing Alfie's eyes closed and chasing you for your lips again. You hummed in pleasure, resting your hand on his cheek again. Alfie's eyes opened to reveal all the softness and love in the world. All yours. He patted your thigh before instructing, "Why don't you head upstairs for me sweet? I'll clean up and meet you in the bedroom?"

With a shy smile you nodded, kissing his nose to seal your deal. He scoffed and shook his head, as if shaking off the kiss. You merely chuckled, skipping upstairs, excited to spend another evening in peaceful paradise with your love.

[miyamoratsumuu]

congrats on 400!!!

for the follower event; still into u by Paramore, hcs w kenma kozume !!/nf tysm <3

STILL INTO YOU

Still into You by Paramore, deluxe edition, ft. Kenma Kozume

⋆ after all this time, kenma was still into you as much as he was in the beginning of your relationship

⋆ kozume kenma x reader (no pronouns were used) ⋆ written in 2nd pov ⋆ this request is from the 400 followers event!! haikyuu masterlist

⋆ there was almost never a dull moment in your relationship with kenma. 

⋆ because despite his quiet and composed personality, he has his own ways to keep your relationship interesting. 

⋆ he wouldn’t still be with you after all these years if things got boring, after all. 

⋆ in his own ways, kenma made sure that the both of you enjoyed each other’s interests and hobbies! 

⋆ for example, every friday night, the two of you would be huddled together on his living room couch. repeating rounds of mario cart would be played on the tv, or on nights that you preferred more relaxing games, animal crossing’s your second option! and on times the two of you were feeling a bit more competitive, super smash bros is just there waiting to be played. 

⋆ as for your hobbies, if you like reading, kenma isn’t really the book type. so, he gladly listens to you talk about the latest book you read as you laid your head on his lap. 

⋆  if you’re more of the cooking or baking type, your boyfriend would almost always be in the kitchen to accompany you whenever you cooked or baked. ever so often, he would be of assistance to you too! he’s more than willing to pour the cake batter into its mold, or cut up the vegetables you needed for tonight’s dinner. 

⋆ though if you liked to try out new hobbies from time to time, kenma’s willing to oblige too! well, maybe as long as it isn’t a hobby that required too much physical movement. like hiking, he’d love to go on hikes with you, though maybe just not too often. twice a month would be great! 

⋆ despite being together for so long now, kenma’s feelings toward you never changed. the urge in him to be of comfort to you, and the desire to be by your side for as long as he can still feels like a fresh feeling to him every day. 

⋆ the night after meeting kenma’s mom for the first time, his shoulders felt heavy. he didn’t know why, he thought he would’ve been happy that the love of his life finally got to meet someone from his family that was special to him too. 

but when the words “I love you” left your lips as he was driving you home, he felt the heavy weight of his shoulders leave. maybe that confession was just the reassurance he needed to hear that night. 

⋆ your relationship was never a smooth sailing one though. arguments happen, words that can’t be taken back are said, and tears are shed. even so, it was a no-brainer for kenma to mend things with you over and over again no matter how much energy it took out of him.

⋆ “you know I’m always up for a challenge, babe. and you’re worth every single challenge there is.”

⋆ regardless of your misunderstandings as lovers, kenma still always felt like the two of you just made sense. he’s never been a believer of soulmates. though the fact that the two of you just felt so fit for each other, like you were two final pieces of a puzzle might have been enough proof for him to believe in soulmates. just a little bit. 

⋆ the ever so present thrill in your romance with kenma was something that he held dear to his heart. he nurtured that spark between the two of you with your help, of course.

⋆ he didn’t pay mind to what others thought of your relationship. what’s important to him was the butterflies he still constantly got whenever he was with you, and the way your eyes sparkled whenever you met his eyes. 

⋆ kenma plans to grow old with you, until your hair turned white, and wrinkles began to form on your faces. no matter how long the two of you last, no matter what others thought, he’s still into you.

a/n: I hope this was to your liking, anon! thanku so much for requesting!!<3

[f1letters]

you're on your own, kid | pg10

"I wait patiently, he's gonna notice me. it's okay, we're the best of friends"

summary: after what she thought was the best night of her life, she came to the realization that she was nothing but one more girl on his list

warning: angst, childhood best friends, toxic fuckboy pierre, mentions of bullying as a little kid, friend zone, one-night stand, suggestive language, swearing, mentions of feeling used, emotional dependence, heartbreak, miscommunication trope, platonic!reader x charles leclerc

pairing: pierre gasly x reader

word count: 4.1k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts.

whoever guessed 'you're on your own, kid'... CONGRATS!! this one is for you! haha I hope you guys like this one, it's the longest story I've written so far but this is such a special song to me and I tried my best to do it justice! enjoy!

masterlist

Summer went away, still, the yearning stays

I play it cool with the best of them

I wait patiently, he's gonna notice me

It's okay, we're the best of friends

Anyway

For as long as Y/N could remember, she had been completely and madly in love with her best friend.

Pierre and Y/N became an inseparable duo from the moment they met as two little kids trying out for their primary school's football team.

At the time, the other boys tried to make fun of the little girl for wanting to be a part of a "boys' sport", as they called it. Being the only girl there, she was made the target of all the bullying, but when she was about to give in and give up, her hero appeared in the form of 6-year-old Pierre who defended her with everything he had.

Y/N looked at the tiny French boy with wide, sparkling eyes as he took her hand and gave it a little squeeze so she wouldn't feel alone.

From there, the two immediately became best friends and that's how they stayed throughout the years.

But at some point in time, the girl found herself getting butterflies when she was in Pierre's presence, imagining what it would be like to have his lips against hers, idealizing a life where the two would be together as more than just friends.

It was inevitable. Pierre emanated such a powerful energy that it consumed her head and dominated all her senses.

He was like a drug: addictive, impossible to give up and she depended on him for survival - almost as if he was oxygen.

And so it was with so many other girls, victims of the driver's charm, although his playboy fame followed him everywhere since he was a teenager.

And it hurt. It hurt too much.

All those years, Y/N had no choice but to fake a smile and nod as she listened to the Frenchman brag about all his latest conquests, all the models, actresses and singers he got involved with all over the world. 

She had no choice but to wait patiently for him to notice her and for him to finally see them as more than the best of friends.

I hear it in your voice, you're smoking with your boys

I touch my phone as if it's your face

I didn't choose this town, I dream of getting out

There's just one who could make me stay

All my days

To be honest, Y/N was already starting to accept that nothing would ever happen between them.

So, the girl chose to distance herself from her friend a little, in an attempt to let her romantic feelings for him fade over time.

She used every excuse in the book to avoid him: I'm tired, I have other plans, I'm working late, I'm sick, I had a family emergency. All of the excuses in the world were used.

Until the day when there were no more excuses and she ended up having to give in, arranging a movie night with the man, as they frequently did over their friendship of nearly two decades.

Y/N arrived at Pierre's luxury apartment in Milan on time as she always did. For a second, she hesitated to knock on the door, letting her anxiety take over, and almost decided to flee in the opposite direction. But as if the driver read her thoughts, the Frenchman appeared from inside his house, seeing his best friend, frozen on top of his black 'welcome' mat.

"Hey! I thought I heard someone coming!" Pierre said excitedly as he gave the girl a short hug. "What are you waiting for? Come in, make yourself comfortable!"

Y/N took off her long coat, hanging it on the coat rack in the hallway, and followed Pierre into his living room, where she saw everything prepared for their movie session. Pillows scattered across the living room floor, two warm blankets crumpled on the couch and two buckets full of popcorn, the smell of which had entered her nose from the moment she set foot inside the apartment.

The familiar image of the boy sitting on his soft carpet made her body relax, and she took the seat next to him while he searched for a movie on his Netflix account. After the two agreed to watch a horror movie, both of them big fans of the genre, the two leaned back against the bottom of the sofa and directed their attention to the screen.

The minutes passed and the two remained in a comfortable silence, commenting from time to time on some of the moments in the film. 

Pierre was now closer to the girl's side and the heat he radiated seemed to almost burn her with the tension that appeared to have settled in her room.

Out of nowhere, Y/N felt something cold on her thigh and thought she was daydreaming when she realized it was her best friend's hand. The girl didn't react, fearing that the words coming out of her mouth would be the wrong ones.

She couldn't help but notice how the driver seemed to be studying her every move, out of the corner of his eye, like a predator looking for prey to attack. 

It was a look she had seen on his face more times than she could count. But never directed at her.

His hand began to move slowly up her soft thigh towards the warm spot between her legs, testing the waters and seeing how far she allowed him to go. His calculated movement was stopped abruptly when she caught his wrist before he reached his intended destination.

"Pierre, what are you doing?" Y/N asked, turning her flushed face towards him.

The boy was mere inches away from her, a smirk plastered across his face and without any sign of regret or embarrassment at having been caught making his risky move. "Y/N, don't lie to me. I've seen the way you look at me. The way your eyes react when they see me approaching you, when you see me with other girls, or when you see me shirtless." He grinned at her, shamelessly.

The girl remained silent, no words daring to be uttered, and she gasped as his hand returned to its former place on the top of her thigh. The Frenchman narrowed the space between them even more, letting his lips brush over hers.

"Come on, Y/N. I can feel how much you want this, want me right now." The man spoke, his fingers now playing with the elastic of her underwear, threatening to act on his desire. "Don't think too much about it. Just live in the moment and act without thinking about the consequences."

Those words were enough to make her head turn off, completely losing her rationality.

Filled with lust, Y/N acted without thinking and kissed Pierre urgently, as if she feared the moment would end at any moment.

With tongues fighting passionately, touches exploring the curves and details of each others' bodies, and clothes scattered carelessly around the room, the two allowed themselves to enter a new level of intimacy.

And the young woman's heart looked like it could explode at any moment with how full it felt, finally having the boy she craved for so long in her arms.

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I waited ages to see you there

I search the party of better bodies

Just to learn that you never cared

The next day, Y/N woke up with the sun's rays coming through the half-open window of a room that she recognized immediately as Pierre's bedroom.

Though she had never woken up in that room like this before: naked, with only the sheets covering her body, and with a satisfying ache between her legs that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Although the driver was nowhere to be seen, a goofy smile appeared on her face, and she brought her hands to her face to cover it up. She let out a silent little scream as she remembered the wonderful hours she'd spent the night before, her exploring Pierre's body, Pierre exploring hers.

Finally, things were going to change. 

She finally got the boy she wanted all those agonizing years.

Grabbing a used tracksuit of his that was lying on a chair and a pair of clean boxers from his drawer, the girl got dressed and headed to the kitchen, where she found her lover leaning against one of his kitchen counters, concentrated on the phone in his hand while drinking some coffee.

"Well, good morning!" Y/N said, almost humming with so much happiness filling her as she approached the driver.

"Hey." He replied, short and dry, making the young woman stop in her tracks, dumbfounded by his carefree attitude.

"Did you sleep well today...?" She tried to test the waters to see if it was just her being dramatic and misunderstanding his response.

"Yeah, sure." Pierre spoke again, without returning the question and without taking his eyes off the small screen of his iPhone as he drank a bit more of his coffee.

Nervousness began to replace all the bliss that previously consumed the girl. It was almost as if he never cared, not even after all she gave him the night before. "Is there something wrong, Pierre?" She questioned, clutching the bottom of the hoodie she was wearing in an attempt to hide her uneasiness.

You're on your own, kid

You always have been

"No, sorry. I'm just trying to arrange something here." He replied, more friendly, though he still hadn't even looked at her since Y/N walked into the kitchen.

"What are you planning?" The girl asked, trying everything to strike up a conversation with him. Her heart was beating wildly at that point, and it seemed to crack more and more with each beat.

"Just this lunch thing with a girl I've been talking to for a few weeks." His shoulders shrugged as if his words hadn't pushed Y/N to her limits.

She couldn't explain how hurt she felt. How dirty and used he, of all people, made her feel.

How could he? Her best friend. The person who had been by her side for years. The man she would do anything for.

After suffering in silence for years afraid to act on her feelings, this was her pay for taking a risk once in her life: becoming just another silly girl in Pierre Gasly's long list of lovers.

Just another conquest, another achievement, undeserving of the driver's concern and care, with zero distinction from all others.

"Look, I'm in a hurry. I really have to go, Y/N." He informed her just as he started to walk hurriedly towards the exit, placing a quick kiss on her temple.

As if those same lips hadn't been glued to hers, clinging to every surface of the girl's body just hours before.

"You know the way! Just let yourself out. See you later!" He yelled, leaving the girl stunned, tears streaming from her eyes, as she heard the apartment door close loudly.

I see the great escape, so long, Daisy May

I picked the petals, he loves me not

Something different bloomed, writing in my room

I play my songs in the parking lot

I'll run away

A couple of days later, Y/N found herself sitting in her condo's parking lot one night, balling her eyes out while she played the songs of her favourite artist.

She couldn't believe that her best friend had used her body and taken advantage of her feelings for him. And to make matters worse, the girl has received nothing but silence from Pierre's side since that morning in his apartment.

Left alone with her own confused thoughts, Y/N's head was spinning. She didn't know what to do, what to think, or what to say.

I just want to get out of Milan and go home, she repeated over and over again.

Y/N had never chosen that town.

The young woman remembered every detail of the day when Pierre announced he was going to move to Italy, leaving France.

A life without Pierre was unimaginable for the girl. She couldn't remember a single day when she didn't know him, when she didn't have his presence in her life.

Feeling trapped, with no other option, she simply packed her bags and went with him.

She couldn't help but think what a huge mistake it had been to come after him, especially when he didn't seem to care about having her there at all.

Y/N picked up her phone, preparing to turn off the music that was blaring through the car to return home, but she was stopped by the sight of the image that decorated her lock screen.

It was from last year. Pierre and Y/N were wearing their ugly Christmas sweaters - like they did every year as a silly tradition - cuddled up on the couch in his parents' house. The lights from the tree reflected on them, creating a magical atmosphere around the two friends.

The girl affectionately touched her phone, as if it were his face. 

Although the idea of returning to France had been hovering in her head for a while, she knew that she couldn't decide to leave without talking to him first.

After all, he was the only one who could make her stay.

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I called a taxi to take me there

I search the party of better bodies

Just to learn that my dreams aren't rare

As tears continued to pool in her sad eyes, Y/N opted to get out of her car, assuring that it was safely locked, and called a taxi to take her to the boy's house, since she wasn't in any condition to drive.

The drive was silent and short, just the typical 15 minutes it took her every time. The girl got out of the car, thanked the driver, and began to walk hurriedly towards the building. Her step was uneven and fast, revealing the girl's erratic and desperate state.

Y/N walked through the door of the building, politely greeting the doorman, and continued on her way towards the elevator.

She was only inside for a few minutes until she reached Pierre's floor, being immediately surprised by the loud sound of music coming from the door of the familiar apartment.

He's having a party, and he hasn't even invited me, she thought to herself.

While she suffered from his absence, Pierre was surrounded by anything but silence.

You're on your own, kid

You always have been

Y/N gained some courage and rang the doorbell, although she was afraid that no one would hear the sound in between the noise coming from the apartment's speakers.

However, seconds later, the driver appeared at the door, wide-eyed at the sight of his friend.

"Hey! Y/N!" Pierre smiled at her, without any sign that he had stopped to think about her during the days that had passed since the night of desire between the two of them. "I wasn't expecting you, come in!"

"Hmm..." The girl hesitantly entered the house and tried to pretend that everything was fine, not wanting to ruin the party. "I was nearby and decided to stop by."

"Oh, good!" Pierre replied, bringing his hand to the back of his neck as his eyes roamed the party full of other bodies. "We're just having a last-minute thing. You know, just a spontaneous hangout." He chuckled, clearly looking to get back to what he was doing before heading to the door.

"Yes, of course, Pierre 'spontaneous' Gasly." Y/N joked, in an attempt to break the tense atmosphere between the two. However, she only received the disinterest of Pierre, who clearly didn't find the joke funny.

"Look, I have to go. I was in the middle of something," Pierre looked back at her, pointing towards a person she immediately recognized. "But Charles is over there with Joris! You can go to them. We'll talk later, okay?"

Without even waiting for her answer, the Frenchman left. The girl's teary eyes followed his image until she saw him returning to his dark couch, where three gorgeous women were waiting for the driver, with hungry eyes on their faces.

The same fucking couch where he'd explored her body, millimetre by millimetre, marking her skin with his touch, days before.

"You know how he gets when he is hosting a party." Charles said, approaching the young woman when he noticed her presence alone in the room.

She shrugged, discreetly wiping the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. "Yeah, well, my presence was always pointless here for him anyway."

Y/N turned to the Monegasque driver and hugged him tight, longer than usual. The man was caught off guard, taking a few seconds to return his longtime friend's hug, but he did so.

Charles couldn't help feeling that that hug meant something more to the girl, but he chose not to question it since it was apparent in her hurt look that something else was going on and he didn't want to intrude.

Y/N placed a friendly kiss on the boy's cheek, letting her hand rest on his cheek. Her gaze locked with his eyes and he swore he saw a tear fall down her cheek.

"Goodbye Charles." She forced a smile. "I will talk to you later, I love you." Y/N turned her back to her friend and walked out the door, without allowing the driver to respond.

Charles couldn't shake the feeling that this 'goodbye' wasn't just a 'see you later', but, blaming it on alcohol and his imagination, he returned to the party, without giving the matter any further thought.

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this

I hosted parties and starved my body

Like I'd be saved by a perfect kiss

In a hurry and with tears flowing freely down her face, the girl returned home and placed all her belongings in suitcases and bags, without any care.

And with that, Y/N ran up and down the stairs of the building where she lived towards her car, filling the trunk and the back seats of the vehicle with everything she had in her small house.

For one last time, Y/N looked at the now lifeless apartment where she lived for the last few years and her heart felt tight, unable to hide the nostalgia that that place was going to leave her with.

She might not have been the happiest there in Milan, but her home had always been her refuge.

However, it was time for her to turn the page, burn the bridge, and finally return to her true home.

Sitting in the car, she took a deep breath and began her long, impulsive journey back to France. It was completely insane trying to make a trip lasting more than 10 hours, especially at that time of night, but the girl simply couldn't bear to stay there another minute.

When the sun started to reappear in the sky, illuminating the endless road with its orange and pink tones, Y/N realized that he hadn't stopped yet and decided to park at one of the available stations to rest.

However, the heartache and the feeling of betrayal still crushed her soul, so she sought refuge in the words of her best friend, Céline, who would certainly welcome her when she reached her destination.

"Y/N? Is everything okay?" Her sleepy tone soon revealed that she had been awakened by the call.

"I'm coming home, Cél." Y/N informed, sniffling her nose. "I gave my blood, sweat and tears for this. I gave it my all but I just couldn't take it anymore."

"What?" Y/N could hear the sound of the sheets and mattress moving on the other end of the line, imagining Céline suddenly sitting up on her bed. "Home? As in France? I don't understand, what happened? Talk to me."

"I'm just a dumb girl who thought the guy she loved for years was going to be her prince charming, coming to save her the perfect kiss." The young woman sobbed, with her hand covering her mouth in an attempt to hide the noise. "Instead, I was just treated like a fucking toy. He didn't even care to know how I felt after he slept with me."

"What? You and Pierre?" His friend questioned, shocked. "Oh my god, I never thought he would be capable of doing this to you. I don't even know what to say."

The two friends stayed for a long time talking, Céline being her usual attentive friend and listening to Y/N's outburst without interrupting her.

"Don't worry, girl. I'll be here with open arms to welcome you home." Cél tried to comfort her friend, making the girl in the car thank her for everything.

Y/N had no reason to be afraid when the people who really cared about her were waiting for her where she truly belonged.

The jokes weren't funny, I took the money

My friends from home don't know what to say

I looked around in a blood-soaked gown

And I saw something they can't take away

The days passed and Pierre went on with his life as normal, not even noticing the girl's absence until Charles asked him about it.

The two were playing FIFA on their PlayStations when the Monegasque spoke. "Pierre, have you heard from Y/N lately?"

The Frenchman felt a wave of shock hit him as he realized he hadn't seen or heard from her since the night of the party when he'd rudely dismissed her.

"I don't know, mate... When I talked to her at the party, she didn't seem right." Charles expressed his concerns. "I've tried texting her, calling her. She doesn't answer me."

"It's probably not a big deal. She's probably just busy with something." Pierre pretended to be unconcerned, trying to convince himself more than his friend that it was just a misunderstanding.

"No, Pierre. You don't understand." The Monegasque insisted, persistent in solving the mystery. "When she said goodbye to me that night... I felt like it was goodbye, a real goodbye."

Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

The word echoed in Pierre's head and regret filled him from head to toe, as he rose abruptly from the sofa.

"I have to go, Charles."

'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned

Everything you lose is a step you take

So, make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it

You've got no reason to be afraid

You're on your own, kid

Yeah, you can face this

The driver knocked insistently on the girl's door, almost as if his life depended on it.

"Y/N, please! Open the door!" Fists clenched against the wood, he begged for a chance to apologize.

Pierre knew now that he had acted wrongly with her.

For letting his desire for some release come between them. For using his friend for a night of passion when she was the most important person in his life. For giving her just something fleeting, something ephemeral when she deserved the world at her feet.

For ignoring the girl the morning after the best night in his life. For avoiding her the next few days when he should have run to her and confessed his feelings. For taking the easy way out and looking for comfort in other bodies when the only one he wanted by his side was her.

Pierre gave up knocking and let his back hit the door, sitting on the step. "I'm sorry. For everything. I beg you, give me a chance to tell you everything I should have said ages ago."

"Sorry, but are you looking for Y/N?" An old voice spoke, making the Frenchman look up at the person. "She doesn't live here anymore, young man."

"W- What- What do you mean?" Pierre stammered, feeling like he'd been doused in cold water.

"She left the apartment a few days ago. The landlord is already looking for someone to rent the place." The elderly lady informed him, setting down the groceries she was holding on the floor.

It was too late, he thought. I lost her, forever.

She approached him, placing a hand gently on the boy's shoulder, who now had his head between his hands.

"I'm sorry, but you're on your own, kid."

You're on your own, kid

You always have been

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thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

[daisynik7]

Hello, hello!

I wanted to drop a request for your y2k event. I was thinking "Fallin'" by Alicia Keys for Kishibe - fluff + angst.

Thank you and again, congrats on 2k followers! you deserve them!

Fallin'

I keep on fallin’ in and out of love with you. Sometimes I love you, sometimes you make me blue.

Word Count: ~1.2k

cw: angst, fluff, canon universe, established relationship, explicit language

Summary: Kishibe never intended to fall for you. As the world’s strongest devil hunter and being practically insane, he never meant to subject anyone else to this chaotic lifestyle of his. Still, somewhere along the way, he met you, and ever since, you want to stay by his side. And that scares Kishibe more than any devil could. 

Author’s Notes: Thank you @itsfairly for the request and for always supporting me! I have so much love for you, I hope you know that! This is a great song for the y2k karaoke party and it’s perfect for Kishibe. I always enjoy writing for him; I think he’s an especially interesting character, and obviously, he’s hot, lol. I hope you like this! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Kishibe isn’t keen on routines. Ever since he became a part of Public Safety at the ripe age of twenty, he’s lived a fast and unpredictable lifestyle. Some might call it spontaneous. Unstable. Even dangerous. He liked being kept on his toes; it made him alert, made him vigilant. He has to be when he’s the strongest Devil Hunter in the world. If he’s not prepared for any kind of deviation that comes his way, then he’s screwed. 

Unfortunately, he already is. He’s finally met his match. And it’s neither a devil nor a fiend. Not even a fellow Devil Hunter. It’s you.

Oh-so-precious you, who appeared in his life no more than a year ago. An innocent bystander he saved in Shibuya when you recklessly tried to defend yourself and a child against a Spider Devil, despite your severe arachnophobia. If you were alone, you would have been found cowering in fear, probably worst, a corpse mangled into pieces. But you overcame your phobia for a split-second when you decided to guard this kid, who couldn’t have been much older than five, parents nowhere to be seen, alone just like you. You didn’t stand a chance. After all, you’re only human, untrained for combat, a simple office worker trying to navigate your normal life. How could you fight this thing? Thankfully, Kishibe swoops in just in time, displaying his physical prowess so seamlessly. And of course, after having your lives saved, how can you not be smitten? 

It’s only a few months later when you realize how equally smitten he is with you. By chance, you reunite at a bar, the first time since the incident in Shibuya. He recognizes you instantly, the image of you standing defiantly with a metal rod in hand, facing a devil ten times your size. He’s seen idiots like you before, thinking they could take these demons on themselves. They’re never quite as pretty and impressionable as you, though. 

A couple cocktails in, inhibitions are let loose. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. Both you and he can hold liquor well, so you pretend to be tipsy when really, you’re completely sober, making bad decisions you can blame on the alcohol. He takes you to his apartment nearby and you spend the night together, and just as you fantasized, he’s equally skilled in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Eventually, you fall asleep with his arms around you, his lips grazing the nape of your neck, his breathing steady against your skin. The next morning, he’s gone, without so much as a kiss on the cheek or a note left on your nightstand, not even a text to explain his absence. If you didn’t have the scent of him embedded in your sheets, you would have thought it all to be a dream.  

It continues like this for the next several months. Chance encounters at the same bar begin to feel more than just coincidental, intentional even. You both sense it, neither of you admitting to it, too afraid to acknowledge that it’s more than just sex at this point. And while all that is good and great, the real kicker here is that you genuinely enjoy each other’s companies. Conversation flows effortlessly between you. His humor, while being somewhat morbid due to his career, jives well with yours. And most important of all, you feel safe around him. He’ll protect you no matter what. 

The irony of it all is that wanting to protect you is what makes him sneak out before you wake up in the morning. To him, it’s a way to prevent whatever this is from going any further. Despite yearning for it so much, he doesn’t want to wreck your life by bringing you into his. Who could ever love someone as fucked up as he is? An alcoholic, womanizing, money-hungry flawed being with no future except one of fighting devils. He’s already decided years ago that he’ll be alone for the rest of his life. And now, you just had to come along and ruin his plans. 

He'll never say it out loud, but he’s scared. The deeper he falls, the harder it will be to climb his way back up should anything go wrong. He already feels his heart being tugged closer and closer to yours every night you spend together. The possibilities of a bright future seem more and more plausible with you around. He can’t let himself succumb to this idea of normality; it’s uncharted territory for him, and he doesn’t quite know how to navigate it.

It's been a year since he laid eyes on you. Months that you’ve been together in some weird situationship that neither of you bother to label. Tonight, after you make love in his bedroom, you snuggle with each other, fingers laced together, his body surrounding yours in the familiar warmth you’ve grown to cherish. Something comes over you in this moment. Maybe it’s impatience from not knowing where this is going. Maybe it’s longing for validation that he won’t just leave you like he does every night. Maybe it’s because you’re in love with him and want to give him a reason to finally stay. You peer up at him, delicately tracing the scar running parallel to his jaw, heart beating faster as you confess. “I love you, Kishibe.”

His eyes widen only slightly; he was always good at keeping a poker face. He swallows hard, taking your hand in his, kissing your knuckles gently. “Go to sleep.” 

You glare at him. “Is that really all you have to say?”

He sighs, releasing your hand, pinching the skin between his brows. “What do you want me to say? That I love you too?”

You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just asking you to be honest with me. I want to know if whatever this is,” you point between the two of you, “has a future.”

“You know that my line of work is dangerous. You know that the future is uncertain.”

“And yet, I’m still here, and so are you. So clearly, we want to be together, no matter how grim this future you speak of is.” 

It takes him a minute to respond, contemplating your very valid argument. He faces away from you, avoiding your gaze. “Then maybe we should finally call this quits. You’re better off without me anyways.”

You cup his cheek, turning his head towards yours. “I know you don’t mean that. I’ve never felt safer with anyone else. You protect me, and I want to protect you too. You don’t have to be alone anymore.” You nuzzle your nose to his, foreheads pressed together. He closes his eyes, relishing this intimacy, more afraid to lose it forever than surrender to it. Although he’s still scared, he realizes that with you by his side, he no longer has to traverse life on his own. 

~~~

The next morning, you wake up, fully expecting the typical cold, empty space beside you. To your surprise, you’re still cradled in Kishibe’s arms, his warm body embracing yours. It takes him a few more weeks for him to say it back, but it’s in this moment that you know he loves you too.  

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Mira congrats on your milestone!! I wish I was good at coming up with requests… hmm… do you ever get more ideas for pomegranate ink? Maybe a scene of them much later in the future? I loved that fic so much ☹️ I hope they’re happy and living a super fluffy adorable life after all they went thru 💔 (can you tell I’m still heartbroken over JJK leaks) - @yutaleks

── CLOUDS

Synopsis: A snapshot of your life with Yuta Okkotsu, some time after the events of Pomegranate Ink.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.9k

Content Warnings: hurt/comfort, kind of angsty, yuta is insecure, yuta is fundamentally different because of what he did for reader, spoilers for the ending of my ultra mega long fic pomegranate ink (which you all should definitely read)

A/N: on this blog we pretend like the jjk manga doesn’t exist and pomegranate ink is canon LMAO 😭 i haven’t thought much about what y/n + yuta’s life after the main story would look like hence why this is so short, but aleks i hope this heals your yuta-loving soul a bit!! ty for requesting and also being like. my first tumblr follower ever i’m pretty sure 🥹🫶🏻

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

Yuta was rubbing his eyes again. He did so frequently — it was a new habit he had picked up, ever since that final battle against Sukuna. They itched sometimes, he told you, because they were trying to see something they no longer could.

Ever since he had brought you back to life, Yuta had been a normal human. Like Maki, he couldn’t see curses, but unlike her, he couldn’t even sense them, their presences nor their effects. His movements were dulled and slow, and he was far clumsier than he used to be. You knew it frustrated him, the blindness, the childish tripping over his own feet when he was so used to having a sleek body that possessed the grace of a jungle cat.

It wasn’t just his cursed energy that had been depleted. His strength, too, was all but gone. His hands shook when he tried to hold his katana, and although he once was able to carry you around effortlessly, it was now a struggle for him to lift you even a few inches off of the ground for more than a couple of seconds. 

He had given up everything for you. You hadn’t understood the magnitude of it until you saw it in action — he was so prone to downplaying his suffering that you all had dismissed it at first. So what if he couldn’t see curses or use his technique anymore? That only meant he was safer.

But giving up a cursed technique was something unprecedented and new. None of you could have been prepared for what it would do to him. Ieri’s theory was this: because a cursed technique was engraved onto one’s brain and soul, the loss of that energy would immeasurably alter one, had immeasurably altered Yuta, permanently.

Once, his memory had been nearly photographic. Now, he was forgetful, requiring reminders about birthdays and anniversaries and appointments. He no longer seemed so deadly, either — there had always been a malevolent aura following him, a sort of viciousness to his otherwise-kind demeanor that made him so frightening, but now, he was so unassuming and gentle that it was impossible to imagine anyone cowering from him like they all used to.

His eyes bore the most significant shift. They used to be a blue like poison, sharp and dark and predatory in an uncanny way, but now, they were faded and gray, sensitive to the sun and entirely unable to see the world to which they had once belonged. He blinked a lot more, too, and Ieri suspected he might need glasses in the near future — not to see curses in specific, but just to be able to see at all.

“Stop that,” you said, pulling his hands away from his eyes before he could turn them bloodshot. “Ieri said it’s not good for you.”

“Sorry,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut so that the momentary pressure could relieve the discomfort. Resting your palms against his temples, you used your thumbs to soothe over his eyelids, kissing his forehead as you did so. “I’m sorry you have to take care of me. You’re the one who just came back from a mission.”

“It’s okay, Yuta. I don’t mind. It wasn’t a particularly difficult assignment; any curses left have gotten so weak that even an untrained first year could take them on and win. We should finish the clean-up job within the year,” you said.

“I should be out there, too,” he said. “I should be able to help. Maki can do it without a cursed technique, so there’s no reason for me to be like this.”

“Maki has a Heavenly Restriction. It’s a bit different than not having a technique or any cursed energy at all,” you said, as gently as possible. It was difficult for Yuta, who preferred shouldering the world’s burdens on his own, to sit back and watch as the rest of you fought and he stayed behind. Maki, Toge, Yuji…even Noritoshi and Elakshi had returned from their trip abroad to help in your efforts. Every remaining sorcerer had dedicated themselves to the cause, so that you could eradicate the remaining curses and then move on with your lives.

But Yuta Okkotsu was no longer a sorcerer. He was a normal person, and normal people had no place facing off against curses, especially when they could not so much as see them. In this manner, he was weaker than even your mother, who as of late had dedicated herself to running a charity caring for the displaced survivors of the Shibuya and Shinjuku incidents.

“I was the second strongest sorcerer in the world,” he said. “Now I’m nothing. I swore I would always protect you, and I can’t even do that anymore. You’re the one who has to look out for me.”

“You brought me back to life,” you said. “There’s nothing greater that you could do for me than that.”

He wrapped his arms around your midsection, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse. It was another new habit of his — now that he could not use cursed signature detection to constantly be aware of your continued existence, he had developed an obsession with feeling your heartbeat, that steady rhythm which reassured him that you were still alive.

“Do you resent me?” he said.

“Why would I resent you?” you said, running your fingers through his silky hair. “Yuta, what could you possibly have done that would make me resent you?”

“When you brought me back to life, you were unchanged. You didn’t become weak; if anything, it made you stronger. It wasn’t like that for me. Don’t you find me pitiful? I couldn’t even resurrect you properly. I had to give up so much to do it. You must find it humorous,” he said. “You must think of me as some half-rate sorcerer.”

“Of course not,” you said. “What you did was ten times as impressive as what I did. I had Rika helping me, and your own natural Reverse Cursed Technique, and of course the heightened emotions which fueled Composition. Beyond that, Composition as a Reverse Cursed Technique was designed for such feats. You had none of those advantages, and yet you still brought me back. That’s not half-rate; that’s the kind of thing that only happens in myths and fairytales.”

Something scalding splashed against your skin, and then you realized that his body was shaking in your embrace. He was sobbing, clinging onto you in a rare display of weakness. Yuta hated falling apart, and he hated falling apart in front of others even more, yet here he was, doing just that. He always told you that he was supposed to be the one that others relied on. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that crumbled, but of course, no one could say strong forever.

“Do you still love me?” he said. If he had held you like this a year ago, then his grip would have crushed you, but now, it was you who had to be careful with your power, with his softer body. “Y/N, do you still love me?”

“Yes, how could you question that?” you said. “I love more than anyone.”

“You loved Yuta Okkotsu,” he whimpered. “Yuta Okkotsu, special-grade sorcerer. Yuta Okkotsu, who was powerful enough to save you from anything. I’m not him anymore. I’m someone else. Someone weak and stupid, who can barely see and whose body always aches.”

“Hey,” you said, holding him at an arm’s length, using the hem of your shirt to dry his tears. “Hey, hey, look at me. Are you looking at me?”

His eyes, the soft color of clouds, settled on you. You weren’t sure what you had done to deserve that kind of trust, that kind of affection or devotion, but you did the best you could with it, holding his face in your hands and squishing his cheeks fondly.

“Yes,” he said.

“I didn’t fall in love with what you have up here,” you said, knocking on his head lightly. “Nor here, nor here.” This was accompanied by pinches on each of his arms. “What I cared about, what I still care about, is this.”

You placed your hand on his heart. He tilted his chin to gaze at it, and you took the moment to flick him, earning you a small whine.

“My heart?” he said.

“Your heart,” you agreed. “In all the world, I don’t think there’s any other that could claim to be its equal, and that’s a fact independent of your cursed technique or your strength. I’ll always love that heart of yours, Yuta. There’s nothing you can do that’ll stop me from doing so. Change your name, change your face, change everything else about you — I’ll recognize it all the same, and I will love it regardless.”

“Do you mean that?” he said.

“I’ve never meant anything more,” you said. “I love you for who you are, not for what you can do.”

“You really, truly are sure of that?” he said.

“How many times do I have to say it? How many words will it take for you to believe me? I love you, Yuta, I love you, I love you, I love you. Is that enough, or is there something else you’d prefer?” you said.

“There is,” he said. “There’s something else I want you to say.”

“What is it?” you said. “You only need to tell me, and I will.”

“I know I’m not strong or capable anymore. I can’t promise to protect you, and it’ll be more work on your part than anything, so I understand if you don’t want to do it,” he said. “It’s a terrible deal for you.”

“Huh?” you said. He avoided your eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box, opening it and clearing his throat.

“I’m delicate now,” he said. “But if you’ll still have me, even in this condition, then…?”

“Are you proposing?” you said. He nodded shyly.

“I was going to wait to do it until after everything with the curses was resolved, but I don’t think I can wait any longer,” he said. “I guess I kind of got caught up in the moment. I’m sorry.”

I wouldn’t have before, he seemed to be thinking. Before, I would’ve been disciplined enough to deny myself that joy until the perfect moment.

You didn’t want Yuta to ever deny himself anything again, though. He had given you everything so that you could have a second chance at life; it was only fair that you spent the rest of that life with him. It belonged to him already, anyways. Every thump of your heart, every breath in your lungs, every thought in your mind…they were all his.

“Don’t apologize,” you said. “It’s perfect. This is perfect. Everything about it is.”

“Really?” he said dubiously.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, it’s perfect, and yes, I’ll marry you.”

He swallowed, and then slowly, he slid the ring onto your finger, with all the painstaking care of a surgeon. Then he blinked up at you, frowning when tears of your own welled against your lashes.

“Is everything okay?” he said.

“It’s more than okay. I’m happy,” you said. “I’m so happy that I can’t help but weep. I never thought that I could be so lucky.”

You wished that you could tell your younger versions that the two of you would end up like this, that everything would work itself out in the best way that it could, that eventually, you would again find something like happiness. Maybe it was true that you both were different now — Yuta was missing his cursed technique, and you could never again simultaneously heal and fight — but you had made it. Somehow, despite everything, despite all that you had lost, you had made it.

In the end, what more could either of you ask for?

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

I believe brittney doesn't deserve the unrecognization but i want to see relationship hcs about her. Mc/Reader is stoic and stern but can be sweet to her, A type of relationship where brittney is somehow different around Mc (Stealing glances, daily ranting to mc, i just like to think sweet things being happen)

A Gyaru's Rhapsody (Brittney x Stoic and Stern! MC/Reader - Relationship HCs)

Anon, I hope you enjoy, had fun writing for Brit, and I hope you lot enjoy reading it! (“⌒∇⌒”)

Also I do agree she is underrated AF. >:(

Also dw y'all Jess loved Brit as a bsf for life in this. <3

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Rhapsody: an effusively enthusiastic or ecstatic expression of feeling.

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

You were notorious for being cold and distant.

Hell, even Geo had deemed you icy.

Across the school people had learnt to simply not interact with you, because dear gods above did you master your intimidating death-stares.

Alas, the sole person whom you genuinely got along with, to everyone's surprise?

Brittney-fucking-Claire.

People were astonished, hell, she was astonished when you and her became friends (by your wish).

Usually she's the one who made the rules, who led the charges.

But she doesn't mind.

She personally thought you were intriguing, your personality was that of Geo's and Jess's smushed together, so Brit was shook when you went out of your way to talk to her.

After a while you join the group, becoming somewhat good friends with Crowe, Jess and Deryl while getting a lot closer to Brittney.

She didn't know why, but she felt a strange sense of security around you, she felt safe.

Unjudged.

Free to say how she felt.

You warming up to her - for reasons she still couldn't figure out - along with you being so oddly nice to her made her feel strange.

Eventually she decides it's not a facade and fully accepts your friendship.

Will start splurging all her gossip to you, you want dirt? Tea? Juicy deets? She's got it all.

Starts sharing her skincare routine with you (only shared this info with Jess so you better keep it secret pookie).

Soon enough you and her start going to facials and hair salons together, then do manicures and pedicures, then each other's homes.

Essentially you worm your way into her heart, and she's worried.

She'd not felt this strongly for someone in a long fucking time.

But...you'd proven to her repeatedly by this stage you were trustworthy...that you genuinely cared about her.

It slowly creeps up on her, the realisation that she's fallen for you, hell she didn't even crush on you, she fucking fell so hard she doesn't wanna get up.

She'll ask Crowe for information about you, and then advice.

He becomes a wingman frfr

Crowe will have to drop hints for you to confess, so when you finally do (btw congrats Anons, doing that shit sounds hard), Brittney just nods briskly. "Brit...I. Like. You." "Yeah, I like myself too." (liar) "Romantically. I...wanna be with you. Genuin-" "Yes."

When you both start dating, Brittney would have already been comfortable with you to the stage of being able to talk about literally anything (y'all love shittalking the nastier girls at Olympieus)

Also defends you from bullies, and will protect you if she deems it necessary (she always will, any excuse to hit those girls is a good one)

However, she becomes much more possessive.

Not to an extent where she'll restrain you.

She will simply fight anyone who dares try and steal you from her (spoiler alert, she wins)

When one of you is sad, you have an unspoken ritual to grab vodka, go to the others' house and rant, ramble and rave on about your problems.

Banger form of therapy.

Brit will also help you study if you need it, she's willing to take notes for you, hell, even tutor you if absolutely needed.

Will also give you #girlboss treatment

You both go out looking badass.

And you have the most fun ever. In short, you're both devoted to each other. And you're both more than happy to keep it that way.

[mouwrites]

Hiiiii! <3 been scrolling through your Ninjago masterlist and I saw there was no HC/drabble/fanfic about a reader who has a culture (or I'm just blind and didn't see it T~T ) anywho, it made me think....I hadn't seen any head cannon of reader x ninja (+ pixal my baby✨) who the reader had a Portuguese culture (and I'm just deprived to see no Portuguese babies in there).

Just the basic stuff like speaking the language, or the food? The habit? I don't know how to explain but it's not something really in research or deep, just the basic stuff.

Here some ideas to help ya if you got no idea ! <3 :

-men usually shake hands with men as a greeting

-we usually smile to anyone and anything in politeness

-We do small talks with anyone, also a sign of politeness

- family events are a somewhat must

-we like to dress nicely (sometimes fancy) to meet family

-PDA is appreciated and somewhat encouraged in public

Etc...

Also, if you feel like you can't write it because it's too complicated, ten thank you for reading! ✨

Of course!!! I really hope this turned out okay ^^ I’ll admit that I didn’t really know too much about this culture beforehand, so please let me know if I’ve gotten anything wrong!! It was fun to do research though, super interesting stuff!!

Ninjago - Ninjas With a Portuguese s/o

Cole

He LOVES hanging out with your family

Ever since he reconciled with his dad, he’s realized just how important family is

So of course he admires your family’s closeness!

Whenever you invite him along to a family function, he’s already putting on his shoes and a nice button-up shirt

He makes sure that you approve of his clothes before you leave

He has an okay sense of fashion, but he just wants to make sure his outfit isn’t inappropriate for the occasion or anything

He’s always super careful to make sure he doesn’t offend your family

Sometimes it’s kind of cute to watch him balk or scramble to correct himself

Even your family finds it amusing

Of course, he’s never actually said something offensive, but he’s still super cautious

He also just tries to have fun and get along with your family!

They adore him ofc, he’s the perfect balance between respectful and friendly

As time goes on, they start to ask where Cole is when you show up to family gatherings alone

You have to explain that sometimes he just can’t make it, especially because of his ninja responsibilities

That’s another reason they love him btw; he has the coolest stories

And he’s a great listener to their stories in return! :)

Jay

He is ALL OVER the PDA thing

He’s a very physically affectionate person, whether he likes to admit it or not

Actually, it was you and your family that helped him realize this

Of course he likes being affectionate with you, but he learns to be affectionate with others too

It started when one of your friends/family members gave him a hug

He was really stiff and awkward at first, but after it was over he realized how warm and fuzzy he felt

From then on he was hooked

He immediately transformed into this super affectionate person

Not just with your family/friends, either; he starts being super affectionate to his family/friends too

The other ninjas tease him about it at first, but he doesn’t care

He’ll hold hands, hug, sit shoulder-to-shoulder, anything that involves touch

He just LOVES being able to show his affection like that!! So much easier than words

(I headcanon that he’s not very good with words when it comes to showing love)

And he loves having the favor returned! (By you or your family/friends)

Makes him feel accepted :)

Congrats, you’ve found a way to finally validate our anxious boy

Honestly he might get a bit carried away with it, so beware

Zane

Zane’s more of an explicit learner than an implicit one when it comes to social culture

(Meaning he can’t really pick up on cues; you’ll have to verbalize things)

So you’ll have to explain your culture to him

But he really loves hearing you talk about it!!

His eyes literally sparkle while you speak

For one, because no one’s ever done him the favor of actually explaining social culture

But also because he can see how important it is to you, and he thinks you’re positively lovely when you’re impassioned

He’ll remember every word, and do his best to practice what you preach

Sometimes it comes off as mechanical or forced (it kind of is), but he gets the hang of it the more he practices

And he’s eager to get practice, which means…

More family time!!

Though it does make him nervous, he likes being around your family so he can practice your teachings and learn more

Your family probably thinks he’s a little odd, but he’s got the right spirit

Being accepted by them would be so validating for him… like all his hard work paid off

AND he’d be close to the people who are important to you!! Double win

Lloyd

He’s another one who really likes being physically affectionate

He’s a huge cuddle bug; this we know

So when he learns that he can hug your friends/family too, not just you, he takes the opportunity

(He still loves you the most, of course, he just likes showing others some love)

It’s mainly the hugs that he likes

Hand holding is a bit uncomfortable when it’s not you, but he won’t reject a hand he’s offered

Cheek kisses are great though :]

He always gets this dorky shy smile whenever someone (especially you) kisses him on the cheek, even if it’s just a greeting/goodbye

It takes everything in him not to giggle like a schoolgirl when he gives one back (for the first little while, anyway)

At first he was a bit awkward giving kisses back, but he warms up to the practice pretty quickly

He used to be just a cuddle bug in private, but by the time you’re done with him he casually practices PDA like it’s nothing

Kai

I’m going to be so honest with you rn. He is going to struggle with the politeness thing

As much as he tries to be cordial and put things gently, if he’s mad that’s all going out the window

If, for whatever reason, you or your friend/family member sets him off, he’s not going to waste his energy on being nice

Cold stares and crossed arms are the least of it; consider yourself lucky if that’s what he does

At the worst…. Be ready to hold this man back

This is pretty rare though, he does try really hard to stay positive

On the topic of trying hard, though, he’s really worried about your family liking him

He knows how important they are to you and he wants to be liked by them

So he’ll always try his hardest to control his temper and follow their polite customs

Unfortunately you will have to be the outfit police when it comes to family gatherings, though

His idea of “nice clothes” is very different from the actual definition

Like, you’re expecting a nice button up and slacks, then he comes out in a tank top and varsity jacket and jeans ripped like he got into a motorcycle crash

He is devastated to learn that, no Kai, those are not appropriate clothes

He’ll still change though, dw

And he’ll be happy about it if/when one of your family members compliments his outfit :)

Nya

Ohhh man….. she LOVES learning about your culture

She wants to know all the details

And she’ll go beyond what you tell her; she’ll do her own research

She’s super eager to test out what she’s learned

She impresses your family first try

Especially because she’s so eager to listen to them

She grows really close with your family, and she secretly starts to consider them an extension of hers

Totally not because she was raised with little to no actual family

She will cry if they start to think the same of her

It might be a little weird for you, with her being so enthusiastic to partake in your customs, but she’ll cut back if you let her know it’s weird

She’s just so excited to learn, especially about something that involves you :(

And she’ll be happy to teach you about her culture in return!

(I headcanon that she’s Chinese :) so if you’re interested she’s glad to share)

Overall she’s just super enthusiastic and supportive regarding your culture!!

She will fight anyone who isn’t

Thank you for this request!! And thanks so much for reading, take care doves <33

(divider by saradika)

[doumadono]

Hiiiiiiiii :3

Cooongrats on 3k... you could share and gibe me some followers :< but fine... I get it... :'<

Giving you piggyback rides with... Prohero!Kirishima with fellow Pro fem!reader! I'd like to ask for a short fic.

Love you and congrats again! 🐺💖

A piggyback ride - Kirishima x Reader

Synopsis: during a fight against villains, you injured your knee. Eijiro made sure your knee was treated, and afterwards, he ensured you got back home safely A/N: thank you, love! Trust me, if I could, I would give you everything! Nevertheless, I hope you'll enjoy this tiny, fluffy fic ♥

MASTERLIST

You sat on the cold pavement, your knee throbbing in pain as the adrenaline from the battle subsided. The successful mission had left the city center safe, but it had taken a toll on you. Your fellow Prohero, Kirishima, rushed to your side with concern etched on his face.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Kirishima's deep voice resonated with worry as he knelt beside you, his red hair falling gently over his eyes.

"I'll be fine, just twisted my knee during the fight," you replied, trying to put on a brave face despite the pain.

Kirishima's strong and chiseled features softened as he examined your injury. "You shouldn't push yourself too hard, you know? Let me help you back to the agency."

You nodded, appreciating his concern. As a fellow Prohero, you had shared countless battles and trained together. Kirishima was known for his unwavering determination and strength, making him an invaluable asset during missions. Today, he had proved once again why he was the hero you admired the most.

Gently, Kirishima scooped you up into his arms, carrying you as if you weighed nothing at all. His muscles flexed under his costume, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of safety being held in his arms.

"Are you comfortable?" Kirishima asked with a hint of worry as he began to walk towards the agency's headquarters.

You smiled warmly. "Yes, thank you, Kirishima. You're a lifesaver."

He chuckled, his smile infectious. "Just doing my duty as your partner," he said, and you could hear the genuine care in his voice.

The streets were still filled with the aftermath of the battle, but you didn't mind. The sight of Kirishima, the hero with a heart of gold, carrying you through the chaos made everything seem peaceful. People cheered and thanked both of you for saving the city, and their words only served to strengthen your admiration for Kirishima.

As you approached the agency's headquarters, Kirishima gently set you down on a nearby bench. He crouched down in front of you, concern etched on his face once more. "Is there anything I can get you? Water, first aid?" he asked, his eyes locked onto yours.

"Just some water would be great," you replied, touched by his thoughtfulness.

Kirishima dashed inside and returned with a bottle of water. As you sipped the cool liquid, he sat down beside you, leaning in slightly. "You were amazing out there," he said, admiration evident in his voice. "Your dedication and courage inspire me every day, truly, Y/N."

Blushing, you looked away. "Thanks, Eijiro. But I couldn't have done it without you. You were incredible out there too."

His face turned a faint shade of pink, and he scratched the back of his head. "Heh, thanks. We make a great team, don't we?"

"We really do," you agreed, a soft smile on your lips.

After a while, your knee felt better, and you knew you should head inside for proper medical attention. However, you couldn't help but feel reluctant to leave Kirishima's side. Being carried by him had brought a new sense of intimacy, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than ever.

As if reading your mind, Kirishima stood up and extended a hand to help you up. "Come on, let's get that knee checked out."

You took his hand, and he pulled you up with ease. Inside the agency, you received the medical care you needed, and your knee was wrapped in bandages. As you emerged from the infirmary, Kirishima was waiting for you with that warm smile of his.

"I guess I should head home now," you said with a hint of reluctance. "It's been a long day."

"Actually," Kirishima began, "I thought maybe I could walk you home. Or, um, carry you home again if you're still in pain."

You couldn't help but smile at his offer. "I'd love that, Eijiro. But I don't want to cause you problems…"

He grinned back, a twinkle in his eyes. "Are ya joking? Hop on." Kirishima crouched down, gesturing for you to hop on his back.

With a light leap, you hopped onto Kirishima's back, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stood back up. The world shifted as you were lifted into the air, and you couldn't help but feel giddy like a child again. This time, you didn't mind the pain in your knee as much, for the joy of being with Kirishima far outweighed any discomfort.

As he carried you through the city once again, you couldn't help but reflect on how lucky you were to have such a caring and strong partner. With Kirishima by your side, you felt invincible, both in battle and in life. You rested your chin on his shoulder, enjoying the view from a different perspective.

After reaching your apartment, Kirishima gently set you down on the ground, ensuring you were steady on your feet. The pain in your knee had subsided a bit, but you knew you still needed to take it easy.

"Thank you so much for carrying me all the way here, Eijiro," you said, grateful for his support and care.

He blushed at your words, his ears turning slightly red as well. "Ah, it was nothing, really. I couldn't just leave you to struggle, you know?"

You smiled warmly and, feeling a rush of affection, leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

Kirishima's blush deepened, and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "You don't have to thank me," he mumbled, his voice a mix of embarrassment and delight.

"But I want to," you replied, gazing into his eyes. "You're always there for me, Kirishima. I appreciate everything you do, big or small."

His bashful demeanor melted away, replaced by a warm and genuine smile. "Well, I'm glad I can be there for you. You mean a lot to me, and I'll always support you, no matter what."

You felt your heart swell with affection for the amazing hero standing before you. Without a second thought, you reached out and took his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers.

"Thank you for being the best partner and friend anyone could ask for," you said, sincerity lacing every word.

Kirishima's smile grew wider, his grip on your hand tightening gently. "And thank you for being an incredible hero and an even more incredible person. I'm lucky to have you in my life."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. In that moment, you realized just how deep your feelings ran for Kirishima, and you knew that the kiss you had shared earlier was just the beginning of something special.

As the evening turned into night, you both stood there, hand in hand, basking in the newfound connection between you. There were no words necessary, for the unspoken understanding and affection were enough to fill the air around you.

With a soft smile, Kirishima leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, a silent promise of his support and love. And in that simple gesture, you knew that you had found someone who would stand by your side through thick and thin.

From that day on, giving you piggyback rides became a cherished tradition between you and Kirishima. Whether it was after a mission or simply spending time together, being carried by him symbolized the unwavering support and love you shared. And as the days turned into months and months into years, your bond with Kirishima only grew stronger, proving that heroes not only save the world but also each other's hearts. You faced countless battles together, each victory strengthening the love between you. And on quieter days, you'd steal moments of tranquility, simply enjoying each other's company, knowing that you were each other's safe haven in a world filled with chaos. Together, you found strength in each other's presence, and with Kirishima by your side, you knew that anything was possible. You had not only found a hero but a partner, a confidant, and a love that would endure any obstacle.

divider by: @cafekitsune

[ellequarius]

Hi elle!! i saw your void success story and as someone also trying to manifest through lucid dreaming it got me so excited. i wanted to know like exactly what you do in lucid dreams to enter the void and how you know its the void. congrats again!! hope you enter and manifest soo much more

Hi!!

I actually wanted to enter the void through a lucid dream for a few months now so I can actually give you some good tips!

I would recommend starting a dream journal, write down your dreams whenever you can remember them so you can have an easier time being aware when you're dreaming.

Reality check during the day, i push my index finger through on the palm of my hand. I do this for both hands. This one works well I've done this twice before in a dream, and the one time I was able to ask myself in a dream "Am I dreaming?" I felt the urge to reality check by pushing my index finger through my palm. If you do this often it can cross over into your dreams.

Notice patterns. One thing I have noticed is that whenever I am able to realize I am in a dream it is usually because something bad has happened. For example on 2 instances where I have been able to realize I was dreaming it was because I got lost at one of the train stations in my city. This was a line I never use and so it wouldn't make sense for me to get lost at one of the stations. For almost all instances where I have been able to lucid dream it is because something bad has happened to my hair, this is mainly because my hair is something I am very sensitive about. It's very curly and takes forever to do and I get really upset whenever something bad happens to it. I know that I am dreaming whenever something bad happens to it because I keep it in protective hairstyles year round in real life.

Learn when your REM cycles occur. Rem cycles are when you have dreams. Normally you're gonna have 3 every night, now there isn't an official way to do this but how I would do it I would sleep for two hours, wake up and see if i remember having a dream, if i don't then sleep for another two hours and then wake up to see if i remember having a dream. If you do this i'd say you'd remember having 3 dreams.... or 3 REM cycles. The time that this occurs can matter for some people. For me it does but only because I typically lucid dream in 2nd or 3rd REM cycle or right before i wake up.

Affirm. My two day routine also works for lucid dreaming. I already made a post about that so just scroll down my blog if you wanna read it.

Also read @charmedreincarnation lucid dreaming guide, hers has so much detail

Hope this helped! I hope you enter and manifest the life of your dreams!

[yanderehsr]

Hii! How r u? How was ur dai? About the oc thing...Could I prety please with cherry on top get a platonic platonic Furina, Ei, Nahidaand Venti with a reader that is like a elf? Idk, how to explain it, so I am gonna add a picture to how I wiev it:

Her name is Eclipsa and has white hair and pointy ears(ofc since she is an elf). And I dont mean like Santa's elfs, I mean the ones from greek and romanian mytology.

About the bakstory: Lets just say that she is the daughter of The Heavenly Principels(lets just call her THP bc I am lazy) (ik it sounds cringe but hear me out😭) and since THP was not all the lovey dovey tipe and probably VERY bad with children (maybe even hate them idk, I really cant see her motherly) she just decided to throe her to Tyvat into the care of the archons untill she was old enough (16 years old) to come to Celestia (bacically be mature since she doesnt want a cryng baby around). Eclipsa is growing, just like Klee slower (there is a theorh that says that Klee is 80 but is also 8 bc she is growing 10 times slower than normal) and everu 100 it adds 1 year rlto her age. Now, lets say that when she was 10(1000) she overheared somebody say that the archons dont actually like her (like parental figures ofc) and that they probably just cang get rid of her. She actually belivd them like a dumb child that she is and ran away (opened a portal to another world and dissapeared without anybody's knoladge). Now, lets just say for the sake of this au to make it more interesting (maybe more cringe but I am having fun ok?😭) that the disaster from Khaenri'ah happened bc the person occ heared it was a khaenriah'n and THP since finding this out was like "OH HELL NAHH" and this iz the reason they destroyd Khaenria'h. THP gave the archons untill Eclipsa was to turn 16 to find her. Well, now, at 15, she randomply (and awkwardly) came back. (Maybe she finally got into her head the ideea of checking Irmansole to see if the archons truly hated her and surprise surprise, ints not true). Now, imagine the characters meeting Occ in their nation. For Venti- at windrise, for Ei in the city (near the statue), for Nahida just at the spirit tree (maybe one of her little friends passed that message for her) and for Furina(back when she was still an archon) she was told from Neuvillette that he sensed Occ's presence(lets just say that higher ups are aware of Eclipsa's existance, including Furina. Perhaps she has read about Oc in one of the books she read to find a solution to Fontaine's profecy).

Also, I imagine ooc to look like this when she was little(I just love this fanart sm😭):

(One thing to note is that none of theres fanarts are mine, and idk who they are from to credit them. Also te line I made was bc there was some writting on that picture and I didnt want it to be out of the context:>)

About personalit I see her as somebody who is quite the drama queen and loves attention 24/7. She loves pulling pranks all the time and also like annoyng people, but in a joking way. Hoever I see her as somebody who has her moments of understanding and is quite the menance to societity(pretty mhch like how Klee is). About her powers, she is developing since young THP's powers but since she is not even 18, its definetly not as affective.

Anyways, I know it might be a weird request or cringe, and maybe I wrote too much, or gave too little information. Also, I am VERY sorry if you cant undrtstand this request, english is not my first language and I pretty much have dyslexia(not bad one tough, I am still working on correcting mynself :D) and I tried to make sure I made as little mistakes as posible but its hard to spot them when its a big paragraphe, uk? therfor you are always free to ignore thiz request, hopw you have a nice day and good luck writting so many requests. Also, congrats on 1k followrs!! :D

...Did I just read an entire fanfiction XD, I will gladly write this, and thanks for the congrats😆

Hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping

Furina: She knows almost nothing about her, Neuvillette doesn't seem to remember anything about her and there are no books about it, hell the only reason she knows about Eclipsa is because Focalors thought of it as important that she knew about The Heavenly Principles daughter if she was going to act as an archon.

Furina's first meeting with Eclipsa is when Neuvillette is showing her around, it was instant love... not the romantic kind, the platonic kind, Eclipsa looked like a doll, so perfect to dress up, so perfect to have around, Furina feels lonely and Eclipsa makes her feel whole again, so she takes what she wants.

Furina dislikes The Heavenly Principles, she would be happy if she was hated by them, her performance is over either way, the profecy is fullfilled, is it really so wrong of her to be selfish... you will see Furina run around Fontaine with Eclipse causing havoc, as long as she is with her she doesn't feel lonely, and now she never will

"Y-you aren't leaving me right, right... ANSWER ME PLEASE... I'm sorry for yelling, I just don't wanna lose a friend so dear, you can understand, right?"

Raiden Ei: The day Eclipsa dissapeared was the day her sister died... not only did she lose her very own sister, she also lost someone she practically viewed as a daughter, she had never felt such horrible pain before, so she shut herself away as to not feel it again.

So many years spent in isolation, all Ei could think about was her sister and Eclipsa, she swore if she could just get them back, she would protect them both with her life, she just wants things to go back to normal, like it used to be.

So many years had passed that Ei nearly didn't recognize Eclipsa, she had so many questions for her, but she didn't say a single one... screw The heavenly Principles, she was going to protect her as best she could, Eclipsa don't even get a chance to talk before she was shut inside the plane of Euthymia.

"So long, you have been away for 500 long years... but that's okay, you're here now, I'll make sure you not come to harm like what happened to Makoto"

Nahida: She doesn't have much knowledge of Eclipsa, she isn't recorded in the Irminsul, all the knowledge Nahida has of her is what her predecessor left for her she didn't forget, she is confused why Eclipsa isn't around... did she dissapear or worse, did she die?

Nahida is confussed when she feels Eclipsa's precence by the Irminsul, it feels familiar but she can't figure out why, of course like the curious 500 year old child she is, she went to figure out what caused such familiarity... Nahida knew who it was the second she laid eyes on her, this is who she is supposed to protect like the Greater Lord she once did.

Nahida asks a lot of questions, why is she here? Why was she gone? Eclipsa is now her favorite subject to learn about, Nahida takes up some kind of little sister role to stay close with her, she needs to know everything, feed her ever-growing curiosity, maybe one day she will introduce Eclipsa to the Wanderer... but that can be later, Nahida wants to be selfish for a bit longer.

"Curious, you being here fills me with a feeling like... like a hole, you fall down it everyday and it just feels so annoying, then suddenly someone has covered it up and I don't feel annoyance anymore... You need to stay with me for a bit longer, I need to figure out why"

Venti: He isn't all that interested in following The Heavenly Principles orders, but he still did as to not occur her wrath... he did not expect to take care of a child, he wasn't the best, he got constantly drunk, never took anything serious, except for protecting Eclipsa from any danger.

It was no surprise that Venti felt such fear and despair when Eclipsa dissapeared, he had lost yet another loved one... why does he still care, it always happens anyways, no relation lasts forever, no matter how much he tries to drown the memory of her in even more alcohol, it doesn't work

That's when Venti notices her precence, after 500 long painful years, is she finally back? Is this his second chance. He meets Eclipsa at windrise, she look just as well as when she dissapeared... He doesn't care what The Heavenly Principles thinks or wants, he will keep Ecilpsa safe and away from her, He will keep that smile on her no matter what.

"It sure has been a while hasn't it, soooo how have you been, hope you missed me for I have missed you"