#gets at least one if not two more pages after this hehe

[the-stars-forsaken]

FALLINGCLAN - MOON 3

Pipitfleck's being dragged into this mess whether he wants to be or not.

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[seiwas]

two-part something (shouto x reader)

wc: 1.3k

contains: christmas, holiday parties, santa, mid-20's pro-hero!shouto x assistant!reader

full fic sequel: three-part honesty

a/n: just a lil writing exercise on shouto! first time writing him hehe

shouto’s late to his agency’s holiday party tonight. 

he breathes out, warmth floating as white puffs from his lips. the heating system on his office floor has been turned off, subtext directed solely to him: whoever’s here today, at this time, shouldn’t be.

his fingers move deftly around his waist, routinary—utility belt unbuckling as he reaches his desk. 

the venue for tonight is on one of the lower floors—a function room where briefings and press conferences are normally held. the number of attendees has grown compared to last year’s, sidekicks doubling and staff tripling; expected, given the agency’s projected growth next quarter. 

this is the agency’s third move since humble days in a rented studio unit (one shouto stubbornly and adamantly paid for fully, on his own), but one thing’s invariably stayed the same—

shouto’s office has always existed in its own space, whether tucked in a corner or spread out over an entire floor.

and wherever that space is, so are you. 

he settles in his seat, leather creaking as he twists to stretch his back. it’s been a long night, being dispatched earlier for an emergency downtown. his hand reaches for the folder on his desk, fingers swiping to release the yellow paper clip on the far left corner—evidence of your presence. 

since being hired as his assistant five years ago, you’ve devised a system for shouto that he now deems essential to keeping his entire agency afloat. his own urgency for paperwork hinges on the color of your paper clips (blue for next month, green for next week, yellow for tomorrow, and red for now).  

he should listen to you; the details of this evening’s take-down can be set aside for tomorrow—tomorrow, when everyone’s allowed to clock-in midday for the sake of tonight’s festivities. knowing you though, you’ll still show up early, if only to go over his desk, ensuring to swap that yellow paper clip for red. 

if he finishes this now, you won’t need to ensure anything; in all the years you’ve been his first and only assistant–a perfect match for how much of a workaholic he is–you might actually opt to sleep in for once. 

besides, it’s more productive if he gets it over with; crimes and mishaps never take breaks to party, after all—even during the holidays. 

that’s what he’ll tell you, at least. 

the party’s more for everyone else than him, anyway. 

he clicks his pen, letting out another puff of warm air as he spreads the document in front of him: 

page 1: basic information. identification details, time markers, a summary of the take-down. 

page 2: breakdown of events. scene-by-scene, additional comments, a two-beat knock on his door. 

then comes your voice, soft, unsure—

“sir?” 

—before you step inside, heels clicking against the natural stone finish of his office floor. 

he looks up, wide-eyed, piercing gray and blue. 

your gaze flits to the papers in front of him, eyebrows scrunching before you sigh. there’s an all-too-familiar smile on your face, a quiet chuckle brought about by how characteristic it is of him to be in this situation right now. 

“sir, that report is tagged yellow.” 

he shifts, looking at your paper clip; without a word, the leather of his seat crinkles again. it’s like this with shouto sometimes, you’ve come to learn: a non-response is a response on its own.

when his eyes meet yours, you shiver. 

goosebumps litter the sides of your arms, the decision to forego your blazer leaving yourself exposed to the chill of tonight’s office air. you try to hide it, but some things are impossible to keep from shouto. 

of course he notices your jaw quivering. 

“are you cold?” he stands up immediately, already moving halfway out from behind his desk.

“i’m okay, sir,” you stop him just as quickly, hands motioning for him to stay where he is.

two beats of silence find him tilting his head, gaze as intense as it’s always been pointed towards you. 

“shouto.”

“pardon, sir?” you step closer, leaning forward. 

“call me shouto.” 

the red fabric in your hand almost slips from your hold. 

this isn’t the first time shouto’s insisted on you using his name—he offered it up the moment he hired you, and the day you searched store after store for his thrifted leather chair during the agency’s second move; he’s suggested it plenty over the years, a casual reminder that it’s no big deal—if the world can call him shouto, so should you. 

pro-hero shouto, top three in the charts. 

pro-hero shouto, late to his agency’s holiday party because of paperwork—his tendency to be a workaholic. 

pro-hero shouto, asking you to call him shouto, but not in the way the world does. 

his eyes don’t leave yours as you blink, swallowing down your feelings (inappropriate, you tell yourself). 

“shouto.” you repeat. 

he nods slightly, a small, imperceptible lift to the corners of his lips. there’s an awkward pause as he looks down to the papers on his desk then up at you again.

“the party,” you clear your throat, smoothing out the fabric between your fingers, “you’re running late to your own party, si–shouto.” 

he tilts his head again, confused, “is this party not for everyone else?” 

you blink—he’s got you there. 

“i guess that’s true,” you sigh, chuckling. a pause, “that report is still yellow, though.” 

blue and gray land on white, bond papers spread out on his desk. he could argue with you, but where has that ever gotten him? you’ve kept him in check for years—it’s how he’s managed to stay on top of things. 

he looks down at his jumpsuit, the same shade of blue since he was 15. not much has changed with the design of his hero suit, just an overall sleeker design fit to match his age. the utility belt still exists, albeit more compact and less clunky; a similar modification was done to the straps that run down the sides of his chest. 

if anything, the biggest change is how the suit has molded around him—shoulders more defined, arms large enough for the fabric to cling onto it. shouto’s build has always been lean, but the areas of defined muscle stick out more evidently now that he’s older, much taller and wider.  

“i don’t have a costume.” he pouts.

you grin, stepping closer to his desk, hips digging into the edge. the red santa hat unfurls from your hands as you wave it in front of him—a perfect match to the shades of his hair. 

he blinks before you catch it, the slight curve of his lips as he leans forward, dipping his head low enough for you to reach the top of it. you tiptoe just a bit when you open up the hat to place it over his head.

you’re gentle with your touch, fingers running through the strands of his hair lightly; you tuck them neatly underneath the fluffy white rim of the santa hat. 

(it’s warmer near him, you notice—his quirk regulating a circumference of heat around himself that extends to you right now, you know. but you’re confident you’d still feel your own version of it–on your cheeks, down your neck–even if he weren’t). 

the hat sits perfectly atop his head, much like anything else that’s on him. when you lean back, moving away to take a better look, you notice it—

midnight blue, the backdrop on shouto’s floor-to-ceiling windows, littered with speckles of white—the first snowfall, and one you stand in awe of.

—gasping at the sight. 

you’re still so near when your eyes light up, zeroing in on the view behind him. you can’t help it, that smile on your face, bright and pretty, he thinks; it’s a short moment, but he feels it, a two-part ‘ba-dump’ that resounds in his heartbeat. 

a/n: they thrift the chair bc it's real leather so buying a new one is just no-no + he texts natsuo otw home after the party that he feels a bit funny! (it's just his feelings 😭)

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[ma1dita]

do we have any sick!trouble and luke taking care of everything for her??(including her hehe🤭) if not then i’d like to think she would probably try to push herself through the day making sure camp doesn’t get set on fire bc older sister core! + dionysus probably dgaf 🤷🏻‍♀️ and maybe only luke noticing that she’s breaking out in a cold sweat and her movements a little more sluggish than usual but shes stubborn af so she refuses to rest

🐥

also ur works are crushing me jo they’re soo good😭💗

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: no trouble tags fuck it we ball! no edits either lmfao fluff :) can be a standalone just know reader is camp mom and Luke calls her trouble/slight cabin 12 mentions but not important (partners in crime series if you wanna check it out)

wc: 860

Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen you be quiet.

Your voice is synonymous with the harmony of Camp Half-Blood in all of its forms: early morning announcements over the loudspeaker that serve as a wake-up call for campers to be ready for cabin inspections, hollow outcries to keep certain deviants in line (the Stolls and your brothers are a deadly force to be reckoned with), comforting words like kisses for scraped knees for the little ones, down to the gentle blanket of your singing at lights out. Luke also just knows by now that you love to have the last word—gods forbid someone else beat you at something you’re good at. Words always come easy when it comes to you (abilities of sons of Hermes aside) he finds out—but he can’t think of what can convince you to go back to bed today, especially with a temperature of 100.7 F.

He’s been circling you like a hawk this whole morning, not chastising (because clogged sinuses and all you’d probably fight him to your last breath), but rather helping out where he can. He swiftly double-checks counselor assignments once your puffy eyes leave the page, steers you away from walking straight into the fires of the forge instead of the exit at the armory, and waves off any bystanders who dare to get caught in the crosshairs of your bullheadedness.

In times like these, Luke’s almost grateful to be his father’s son (still a hard no, but you get the point). Doing these tasks undetected and mostly through a sleight of hand is better than worrying you even if he’s already at his wit's end; you’re quick in your own right too, body and brain separated today yet working on autopilot through a foggy sick-riddled mind. He hates leaving you like this even for a moment despite your protests of being able to handle yourself, but the two of you are spread thin today with all the work to do.

Luke finds you later after his workshop with your head against the cool stone of the climbing wall. You sniff into your sleeve, a wet sound stifled by the worn-down orange uniform you all wear, though yours looks as exhausted as you are, eyes closed and motionless even with lava slowly trickling from the top.

“Trouble? Are you okay babe? Grover fell off the wall already, you should… restart the mechanism,” he mutters, a big hand clasping at the nape of your neck like someone grabbing a kitten by its scruff.

“He’ll be fine, he’s a big boy,” you mumble with your face still attached to the rocks. “I’ve seen him climb over the Ares table for the last donut at lunchtime, molten lava and boulders should be a piece of cake.”

“At least cake is less painful and more delicious,” the satyr groans, hairs singed down to his hooves. Luke sighs, helping Grover back onto his feet for a well-deserved break.

“Babe…If you don’t move, sooner or later the lava’s gonna smother you.”

He shakes your arm since the controls are wedged between your body and the wall but it’s as if your body is bolted to the floor. A dissonant noise crawls out of your throat, “Dunno, kinda sounds nice. Maybe it’ll clear my sinuses.”

“Maybe it’s time to admit you’re sick.”

Even if he can’t see your face he knows there’s a scowl carved across it, “M’not sick. Just some allergies. I don’t get sick, Lu. Being sick is for the weak!” Lava continues to slide down the wall like molasses, inching you closer to a fate of fire— and your boyfriend watches you try to welcome it with weary arms.

“If you’re not sick, then I’m the best singer at Camp Half-Blood,” Luke drones as he crosses his arms. He can hear Percy laugh from the sidelines at that, silenced quickly by a glare.

“Now that would really clear her sinuses—even better if he dresses up for Theatrics again,” the son of Poseidon sniggers until a stray boulder comes barrelling towards where he and Grover are sitting. Everything’s suddenly less funny.

“It was one time, Jackson, and I wasn’t…” Luke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Trouble was just mending a costume.”

“It’s okay Luke, not everyone can pull off a corset.”

“Grover, another word out of you man and I’ll make sure your legs are permanently hairless,” Luke grits, finally tired of the chit-chat and more focused on getting you to rest. In one quick movement, he sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder while his other hand slams on the button to reset the gears of the climbing wall. A delayed reaction falters from your throat, something of a yelp and an exhale.

“Luke! Put me down!”

But he’s already off in the direction of Cabin 12 to get you settled under the covers for at least the rest of the day until you’re up and kicking again. Your protests are scratchy but loud as he takes you away from the two kids and it's as if everything is right in the world again.

“Remind me not to get a girlfriend that stubborn one day,” Percy mumbles, bumping shoulders with his best friend.

[mondaymelon]

when they first fell in love with you. ♡

(sumeru genshin impact males x gn!reader)

written headcanon style! enjoy ✩

(a/n) might be writing a part two of this with tighnari and some other male genshin characters so please comment which characters you would like to see! thank you for reading ♡

˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

cyno ♡

he was never the emotional man, at least not around other people. but to you, he was just the hobby-chasing mahamatra who liked to play card games religiously.

the two of you met a long time ago, years before, during his time at the academia. The two of you had the same biology class. over the course of half a semester and more than a few group projects, you could say the two of you had grown relatively close.

close enough that cyno, being cyno, was comfortable enough to tell always tell you his most terrible jokes.

"hey. why did the biologist break up with the physicist?"

you had stared at him quizzically, not sure if this was a test or an actual question about the work, but replied anyway. "what?"

"they... had no chemistry."

"..."

"do you get it - because like chemistry is a subject of science and biologists study the science of life and we're in science class and-"

he'll never forget the way you laughed that day. the way your serious expression faded into one trying to hold back laughter, and the way your lips curved upwards instantly... he felt his heart skip a beat as you let out a quiet giggle under your breath. he didn't know why or what, but a wave of affection swept over him, almost engulfing him completely before he reeled it back, face tinted red.

"hehe, you're funny, cyno." you had told him, smiling sweetly, still struggling to mute your laughs.

"am i?" cynos crimson eyes were wide as he looked at you with a look of surprise.

"mhm!" you nodded at him, beaming. "oh, are you free after school today? we should meet up to do the homework."

cyno hid his face from you then, face burning and flushed red as he mumbled out a response. "i'm free."

"great!" you slid him a slip of paper, torn off of your biology worksheet. "i figured you should have my number. don't forget to text me, okay?"

"i won't."

and he kept his word.

al haitham ♡

it all happened after the school announced an academia-wide field trip to the desert, quite the far trek in hindsight. you were surprised the school even agreed to it. that aside, the entire school was excited about it, especially to people who had moved from the sandy dunes to the lively rainforest in order to study at the academia.

however, al haitham, your literature class partner, had stayed silent. you glanced at him several times throughout the entire day, but his expression didn't change one bit, nor did he even look from his book.

"al haitham." you called out his name, eyes sparkling curiously. "what are you reading?"

"a comprehensive look at sumeru's last 300 years." his answer was short and quick. you whistled, impressed that he was willingly reading such a text.

"are you going on the field trip?" you questioned, wanting to ask but not wanting to annoy him.

"i see no reason not to." yet another blatant answer. he turned the page absent-mindingly, eyes trailing from sentence to sentence. you decided to let him read, not wanting to bother him more than you already had.

just then, a group of students walked into the room, bustling about loudly and chatting amongst themselves not too quietly at all. if they noticed the two of you, they certainly didn't care. they laughed and shouted some more before taking the tables next to where the two of you sat and continued to squawk about.

you caught al haitham wincing at the noise, mutely noting the fact that he had taken off his headphones. you never realized the ashen-haired man had sensitive hearing, but now a lot more things made sense- especially the fact that haitham never ate lunch, like the other students, in the cafeteria.

hesitantly, you reached up and cupped your hands over al haitham's exposed ears. "is it too loud?" you whispered as quietly as you could, hoping that al haitham wouldn't be bothered by your question.

as you glanced down at his expression, his look of astoundment startled you. his emerald eyes sparkled with a look of tenderness that you would've expected as he gazed up at you, his diamond shaped pupils staring up at you and you only.

then, so subtle you almost missed it, he whispered, face flushed:

"thank you."

kaveh ♡

kaveh was always a friendly person, and that was certainly not an exception when it came to you. after a class, he would always burst into the room and come to walk you to your next one.

it come to a point where you would wait for him to show up after the lecture ended, purposely packing up your things slower as you scanned the door for any signs of the blonde man. and he always showed up.

always.

except, then he didn't. you waited until the students of the next hour began to come in, and then waited more until you were sure you were already late. yet, he still didn't show up. worry began gnawing at your stomach as you fidgeted through all of your classes that day, mind cloudy.

and he wasn't there the day after that, either. you missed his presence, his sunny demeanor, and his blushing reaction whenever you decided to tease him.

after about a week of the constant torture, he showed up again, grinning and raising his hand as if he was expecting a wave after your design class.

and you didn't just give him a wave. you dropped all your things instantly, eyes wide and teary, and leaped onto the man, sending both of you tumbling to the ground as you gave him the tightest hug you could manage.

underneath you, kaveh let out a shout of surprise, trying to get you off of him so he could get up, but he wouldn't budge. and he glanced down at you, confused at what had gotten you so worked up, he spotted glistening tears spilling down your face.

"wh-what's happened?" he questioned with a worried expression as he helped you up, tears still running down from your eyes. "did someone hurt you? who was it??"

"idiot..." you leaned against his figure, burying your face into his chest, not caring if you were to be late or not. "you left without a word...!"

"i-i'm sorry-!" kaveh glanced down at your figure clinging onto him, face flushed as his heart pounded so loud that he was sure you would be able to hear it. "i caught a cold..."

"don't leave me again like that, okay??"

"o-okay."

wanderer ♡

you had known him for a long time now, you would've admitted if you had no other choice but to be truthful. but it was a hopeless thing, since never once did he ever seem to notice you - much less care about you or your wellbeing.

at least he had never outright told you that he disliked your presence. it was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

so it was a surprise when he showed up at your doorstep, clothes and hair drenched from the relentless rain outside. he stared at the ground sheepishly, expression embarrassed as he spoke. "i... i didn't have anywhere else to go."

"oh." you had stood there for quite a bit, mouth rounded and eyes wide before returning to your senses. "you can come inside. i'll get you a towel."

the dark-haired man nodded silently, stepping outside as drops of water fell from the sides of his hat. you halted, whipping around. "leave that on the porch."

"but-"

"it's wet. it's going to be no help when we try to get you dry." seeing scaramouche's face fall, you cleared your throat. "but if you must, you can leave it in the mudroom."

"...alright."

you weren't even sure why he was sitting in your living room, a towel around him and sitting on your couch by the fireside, slowly sipping a hot mug of tea. he didn't seem to be thinking of speaking anytime soon, so you did it in his place.

"did you need something?" you questioned him after taking a long sip from your own mug.

"no, i just..." he shook his head. "can i stay here? just for a little while longer?"

the softness in his voice startled you, but you managed to give him an answer without stuttering either way. "you can stay for however long you want." at your response, you saw the male's eyes light up, along with his face flushing a bit too, an action that was not gone unnoticed.

"...i appreciate it. i want you to know that i really do. thank you."

masterlist ✩ next

[mamapyjama]

I’ve been rereading the current anime arc in the manga, and finally got to The Apology™️, and I wondered what words Katsuki used before translation.

Disclaimer: I’m sure others must have posted about this before but I couldn’t recall reading it myself. I do remember there was a lot of talk about the way he used “gomen” as the Japanese fandom were saying how cute and childlike it sounded, so I thought I’d see if there was anything else interesting there.

Oh, my sweet sweet baby boy…

So, just before he says ‘Sorry for everything’ (ima made gomen), he says:

言ってどうにかなるもんじゃねェけど

本音だ

出久

“Itte dōnika naru mon ja nē kedo… Honne da…Izuku”

Which in the English translation, gave us:

And “speak my truth” is lovely and all, but the word from the original that stuck out for me was ‘honne’.

I’m not sure how familiar most people are with honne–tatemae (I only know about it because I go way way too in-depth when researching for my fics lol), but it’s a concept that every Japanese person is deeply aware of, and underpins much of their society.

Here’s the Wikipedia intro:

Ohhh, that is some extra juicy context for Kacchan’s speech. Essentially, he is saying that everything up until now has been his tatemae, a public façade to protect his own position (strong, powerful hero etc), but that he can’t keep that up and he wants Izuku to see his honne, his true, private self.

Excuse me while I melt from the cuteness.

But WAIT! There’s more!

How much do you know about second-person pronouns in Japanese? (Nope, this isn’t about ‘kare’ again this time hehe).

You’ve probably noticed in the anime that Kacchan says “Temee” a lot, and you may have also noticed that it tends to get translated as cursing. So it actually just means ‘you,’ but like a really rude way of saying it, such that the only way of reflecting that in English is to replace ‘you’ with something like Bastard or Asshole.

Again, have an expert explain:

This and the below are from a very excellent article about second-person pronouns and how they are used for context and drama in anime specifically. I’d recommend reading it as the context is really interesting!

So although pronouns aren’t actually commonly used or necessary in much spoken Japanese, when they are used, it’s a deliberate way to tell you about the relationship dynamic between two characters.

But why, you may ask, am I talking about pronouns again?!

Because, dear friends, throughout the first half of his speech, Kacchan uses ‘temee’ as usual to describe his past with Izuku. I’ve highlighted it below, and pls also note the shaky speech bubble showing his nerves during the ‘honne’ section. 🥺

HOWEVER, straight after he says he wants Izuku to see his Honne, Katsuki switches pronouns from ‘Temee’ (v rude), to ‘Omae’ (very casual/familiar). Below is the page after the apology.

Considering we now know pronouns are not necessary to convey meaning, that’s a hell of a lot of omaes on one page!! Boy cannot get enough of saying it.

If you want more about the different pronouns, see below for a helpful table of common uses for both. And please indulge my shippy heart for highlighting the second usage (but, like ‘kare’, you never know)…

Katsuki is showing Izuku immediately and repeatedly that this is who he wants to be to him and how he wants the world to see them. His honne, his inner desire, is to be close to Izuku, to treat him as an equal.

He’s not just saying sorry, he’s showing that—at least from his perspective—things are going to be different from now on. But, like, also, that this was how he felt about him in private the whole time?! GAHHHH.

So there you go, the apology that was already a massive turning point in their story/relationship was actually even deeper and more beautiful than we all thought. Yet again, Japanese conveys nuance and intention far beyond what can be translated. 😭💕

[ravenstargames]

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #9 | 02.29.24

What is this?! Two devlogs in one month?! More likely than you think! This February has been very productive for me and the team, so let's dive right into it!

Ooooh boy, Raquel keeps knocking it out of the park! She managed to get done every expression for every LI, and I coded them all! Now we have our wonderful characters ready for their debut. We have been using the wonderful Image Tools for Ren'py made by the talented and hard-working Feniks, whose tutorials and resources save a lot of dev's lives every day! This tool has made everything a bit easier for newbies like me, hehe.

Here's a taste of our edgelord's expressions! 💜 They're kind of a cutie when they put some effort into it!

We also had our second valentine's day celebration art piece thanks to Kayden! Sadly with the reworked version of the demo, you won't meet Vycar yet, so we thought we could ask for his forgiveness by giving him a beautiful bouquet and reminding him how much of a sweetheart he is! 💜

Also, Raeya got a hair update!

So, we weren't completely satisfied with the way we portrayed Raeya's hair, so this has been a rework we were sure we wanted to make. At first we were just going to render it again, but we ended up working on it from scratch to better represent what we envisioned for her. We hope you like it as much as we do! ; v ;💜

As always, we are open to any critique or advice; we are white people who have the luck to be able to ask POC friends for their advice as we work, but the more the merrier! Don't hesitate to send us your opinion to our ask box or even our email, gamesravenstar@gmail.com!

When it comes to the background department, we have been making great progress thanks to Airyn, who is honestly leaving us with our mouths hanging open every time! Thanks to her, another background has been finished and another one is in the making, leaving only two backgrounds to be revised and approved!

I personally can't stop looking at this WIP! She understood perfectly what we wanted to portray just by looking at an old WIP we had, and this is what we have so far—and it's already amazing!

Allie has been OBLITERATING the script. As of today, I think we have almost gone through everything that needed to be corrected and discussing, and lord if the script doesn't look a 100% better after we put it in Allie's hands. The way she writes, the way she understands everything I want to say even when sometimes I don't even know myself—what a talented, inspiring and amazing writer they are. I know I may sound annoying at this point singing her praises endlessly, but if the script is in the state where it is now, it's thanks to her!

My programming adventure of the month has been a success, if I say so myself! I've coded the characters with aaaaall their layers, their expressions, the blinking animations, made some videos, and started coding the script. Step by step as they say; I've coded 18 pages, and there's, uh...142 more to go. Haha! *sobs*

BUT WE ARE GETTING THERE! We can see the light at the end of the tunnel! I can finally click 'new game' and read the script and see the stuff going on! YAY!

Some extras of the month—we are preparing a Casting Call to choose the voice acting talent that will hopefully give voice to our characters. The demo won't be fully voiced (it's impossible with the funds we have, which are...zero), but if we are lucky we'll use some of our personal savings to pay for at least a few lines for each character so you can get an idea of how they'll sound if we get funded! Raquel is preparing an art piece for the announcement, and I'm getting the document ready and asking fellow VA friends for advice :3.

Also, we have a new member here at Ravenstar Games! Some weeks ago Astro and I formally adopted our first kitty, 8 month old Riki, fulfilling one of our dreams. We got him from a feline association that works with volunteers and fosters cats who have been abandoned, cats they find on the street, and so on. Riki has been living with me since January, and he's a happy, long big boy who loves playing, cuddles, and sitting on my desk while I try to work!

Say hi to the Ravenstar family, Riki! 💜

A productive month full of accomplished milestones, excitement and new challenges! The team has worked so hard, and I've done my part too! We still don't want to get ahead of ourselves, but we have done a lot of stuff we were sure we wouldn't finish yet, and look at that! We are doing so well!

As you can probably tell, my batteries are starting to run low, so I'm going to leave this devlog here. Thank you all like always for cheering us on, for being here in this journey with us, and for all the love you send our way. Let's hope March is as amazing as February has been, for us and for all of you! 💜

[ashipiko]

“A Hundred and More Memories with You”

SUMMARY: A story in which Ace reminisces upon the many memories of him and Ashi.

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

NOTES: <3 enjoy the rare Ashi writing

taglist: @taruruchi @deeva-arud @thelegendaryfluffypotato13 @midnightmah07 @cynthinesia

Ace would consider himself an Ashi expert. A lot of people would consider him one too, considering how often they hang out with each other.

And when he says it’s a lot, it’s a lot. Sure, of course, there’s Deuce and Grim too. They all go through their antics together, whether it be slaying in a singing and dancing competition or solving the latest issue Night Raven College has got to answer, which includes facing off against high school boys in life-risking duels, when they should really be in therapy. They all went through a lot together and somehow pulled through and survived all that nonsense too. Same class, same lunch table, same shenanigans for them all. And Ace would like to think of them as a dream quad, but here’s the thing.

Who got there just a little earlier than Juice did when Ashi was having trouble at Scarabia? Who did Ashi go to hug tightly when that happened? Who did Ashi stay behind with when VDC practice came by and everyone else left the room? Who turned out to feel so comfortable with him that she fell asleep on his shoulder? Who always bunks at Ramshackle and is always taken in by the prettiest girl at NRC?

That’s right. Not Grim, not Deuce, but Ace Trappola himself.

It might not be much, but Ace finds himself thinking that it’s those small things that no one else sees that places him a little higher than everyone else. With this, at least. He can confidently go up to anyone and go, “Hey! That’s my best friend you’re talking to, you know?” with a shit eating grin on his face, and no one would bat an eye. Because that’s just usual Ace behavior around Ashi.

Behind closed doors or not, he’s real committed to her.

…Maybe if you cut out their first meeting, actually. He thinks about it sometimes. How’d he fall for a goody two shoes like her?

Just some girl, straight out a coffin and fell onto the floor, during NRC’s opening ceremony. It was really funny! Doesn’t mean it made him think much about it. Like yeah, sure it's all-boys school, but it’s not anything crazy. What, none of you have seen a girl before? Do you guys not have moms?

Until Ace spots her again, her eyes crinkling in confusion at the sight of the Great Seven. Some dialogue is exchanged, and nothing is of note. She’s cute and pretty, sure, but it’s not like Ace came to NRC, an all-boy’s school might he reiterate, to get a girlfriend. After the last snooze fest he had? Pfft! Forget it! Not to mention she’s got no passion or fire within her. The little furball she’s got beside her is the one who carries that all for her, I guess.

“Maybe before you try gettin’ into the academy again, you should try a second crack at kindergarten? Hahaha!” That was the Ashi-Grim duo’s first taste of the iconic grin™.

“Grrrr… How dare you!”

“Anyway, I’ve gotta head to class~. Unlike these two janitor losers over here I’ve got places to be. I’ll leave you alone and let’cha get back to picking up some trash.”

Ace still remembers looking over at such a blank face. Just standing there like a statue, watching the situation play out. Nothing about this interaction would’ve hinted to what was in store for him.

“Hey, goody two shoes, maybe loosen up a little, how ‘bout it? You could benefit from some good old insults every once in a while. Take a page outta the weasel’s book here.” The redhead teases one last time before his departure, as he watches the brunette’s eyes lock with his.

“Hehe,” Ashi finally perks up, “I’ll think about it, Acey.” She chimes.

Ace is about to shoot something at her again, until a blaze of blue fire engulfs the area around them. All tension is lost and next thing he knows, he’s battling a literal animal and being sent to wash windows as punishment for the roughhousing. He didn’t sign up for this at all! But after some self reflection, the Ace now would roll his eyes and mutter, “Well, I GUESS it was kinda deserved.” But of course, that would only be because of Ashi. Despite how much of a “bad influence” he is on her, in her own way, his best friend had her own ways of helping Ace improve himself too. They balance eachother out well, and Ace smiles as he thinks this. To make himself feel better? Maybe.

Even still, in the beginning, Ace didn’t really think much about Ashi. He ditched the whole window cleaning ordeal for a reason, you know? And no matter how hard he tried, no amount of pushing her buttons resulted in any sort of snap back, no retorts at all. Bullying her more than Deuce didn’t work either— so he eventually gave up and changed targets. Which I guess was fine, since he had to focus on the stressful situation of the mines.

But at the end of the mage stone obtaining mission, when Ashi caught some time alone with him on the walk back as Deuce and Grim walked ahead, Ace figured that she just wanted a piece of him. He can’t blame her, honestly, so he decided to give her what she wanted and talked to her casually for a while. He thought one last time, adding some spice into the conversation, to joke around.

“You were reaaaally scared back in that dark and spooky house, weren’tcha?” Ace teases, giving Ashi that signature grin once again, “The cave too, to boot. What are you, actually scared of the dark or something?”

He catches Ashi’s attention, and she looks at him, offended, “Aaand? I totally did it still, you know! Give credit where credit’s due, Acey!”

“Still means you’re a baby.”

“Hmph.” Ashi huffs in response, pouting a little, “…At least I manned up and made a plan instead of arguing like an idiot with the others.”

An actual comeback? For real? Ace didn’t think she had it in her!

The ginger’s lips curl up into an even bigger grin as he pokes the bear a little more, “And who did the execution, huh? Without me, you wouldn’t have even gotten to go through with your plan!”

“I could say that about Deucey. He definitely deserves more credit than you do anyway.”

“Ha! As if. Juice over here barely did anything.”

“Either way, neither of you would’ve come out of this successfully without me,” Ashi sighs, fed up with Ace’s behavior, “What’s your brawn worth if you don’t think about how to use it?”

“Offense over defense, baby!”

“Exactly why you would’ve failed without me!” Ashi snaps at him, immediately realizing how much she’s allowed Ace to wind her up right after. She internally scolds herself for acting out, and before Ace can say anything else, she breaks eye contact and changes topics.

Noticing how her body stiffens and her words seem less… slangy than usual, Ace can’t help but ponder about this. This whole entire time, not a single complaint has come out of her lips. Her voice was constantly sing songy throughout the entire nerve-wracking situation, but the way that it climbed up and became more strict and stern at this moment was a complete curveball. A breaking point, perhaps? Not to mention, the sudden way her body closes up and acts like it resets? It’s like she’s being corrected. A light goes off in the instigator’s head.

Huh, Ace thinks. Maybe goody two shoes here isn’t exactly what she’s living up to be.

He barely knows how he got here himself. Something about Ace’s first taste of something outside of Ashi’s whole “peppy good girl” deal was enough of an incentive to pester her more, and more, and more and more and more, only in attempts to see more of that special side of her. And somehow, through some sort of divine intervention, he got closer than anyone could’ve imagined for the guy who’s known for pissing people off.

Closer than anyone else she’s met in Twisted Wonderland has gotten, and based on how she words it, closer than anyone in her home world, even. The fact makes Ace feel bad, but at the same time he can’t help but feel kind of proud. Hell, he doesn’t even understand how people don’t like the real her. The whole good girl act is polite and sweet, sure, but compared to how dynamic and fun the hidden side of her is… Why would you ever think that the shallow 2D side is better than the in-depth 3D side in this scenario?!

If he ever gets there, Ace pledges to beat the hell out of every person who made Ashi think this in her home world. You can count on it.

From there on out, he had to keep his curiosity at a minimum. Though he wanted to keep pushing, he cared for her so much that he didn’t wanna cross her boundaries too far. So he kept it as teases and banters for the time being, because that’s how you keep it light and fun. Such as having sleepovers, just the two of them at Ramshackle.

To say the least, Ace got a little too comfy.

At some point, Ashi would offer him an old sweatshirt she never wears, too oversized for her but perfectly fitting for Ace during the cold nights he would want to visit. At some point, Ace had a secret knock he used at her window after the incident where he had only scared her instead of delightfully surprising her. At some point, Ashi and Ace giggling the night away became the norm for them.

Simple? Yeah, Ace had to admit, it’s just talking the night away with a friend till you both pass out, but it has its charm. Just as they showcase it in movies, the two best friends always hang out under the covers, tell scary stories and laugh excessively due to being way too sleep deprived, having a special bond that no one else would understand, just because they understood each other that well.

Something so simple, and yet something Ashi never got a taste of before.

She never got that close.

So, Ace, being the great friend he is and being the bearer of knowing Ashi’s history of, well, not being too involved in the usual teen activities, he would take it upon himself to go and make a dream come true. His mind begins to wander off way back when, before any of these bestie advancements were a thing. When Ace wouldn’t come out of nowhere, instead making his way through the door, like a normal person. And what better place to propose the idea of Ashi’s very first sleepover than the cafeteria?

“You’re telling me you’ve never had a sleepover. Seriously, Ash? The heck kinda life did you live?” Ace jokes, giving her the most bewildered look as they eat their lunch.

“Eh…” Ashi mumbles about, thinking about it as she takes a bite of her sandwich, “Kinda just the way the cards played out? Dunno, my mom didn’t really get the whole dealio.” Shrugging as if it’s nothing, she looks over at Grim chowing down his food to end the current topic.

Ace looks at her as she finishes talking, and he feels like her smile’s lacking more than it usually does.

“Then why don’t you experience it while you’ve got the right cards?” He shoots back, pulling Ashi back into the conversation, “You know who’s not here? Your mom.” He chuckles a little at his little joke, “Seriously though, take this whole away-from-your-family situation to your advantage!”

“Ace has a point, actually,” Deuce joins the conversation, “For once we agree on something. You’re already in a magic world, what’s one more abnormal thing to experience?”

Ashi blinks a couple times at the pair, before putting her finger to her chin and letting out a hum, “I guess so… Who do I invite, though? Plus, there’s Grimmy I gotta worry about too. This guy’s a drama queen…”

“I need my beauty sleep!” Grim scowls, before getting right back to his tuna. Ace rolls his eyes before he leans across the table, towards Ashi.

“Invite me, duh! Who else is your bestie, Ash?”

She smiles at his attitude, “Mr. Trappola, huuuh?” The brunette takes a comedic amount of time to think about it, “All his complaining miiight keep me up at night… Me and Grim are in the same boat when it comes to the sleep department too~.”

Deuce chuckles, “He really doesn’t shut up. Actually, a sleepover with all of us would be fun, but I have studying to do…”

Grim adds on, “Well I don’t wanna see an ugly face when I wake up!”

Tired of the bashing from the rest of the group, Ace loudly groans, “Then why don’t you take your ugly mug to me and Juice’s dorm while me and Ashi have a sleepover! Problem solved!”

It takes one glance from Deuce for Ace to get the message, “You know, you just sound like you just wanna get alone time with Ashi.”

The redhead glares back, “As if! I just wanna have a sleepover!”

…Only to add a solemn “Back me up, would you?” to it. Deuce gets it and helps him out.

“It would help me actually, Ashi. Take him away from me so I don’t have to worry about getting off track. And Grim can’t be that bad of a roommate, right? He’s just a cat. If he slept the whole time, I think it’d be relaxing if anything.” Deuce adds on, slowly egging on Ashi to decide.

“If you feed me enough tuna!”

The prefect ponders for a second, as her fingers tap once, twice on her chin, “I mean I guess… It’s not like it’s the first time Acey’s stayed over.” Ace pumps his fist in the air, and the other two think he’s being a little too obvious.

“Win! This time, it’ll totally be a proper sleepover. Call me the sleepover master, even! Get ready to not get a wink of sleep tonight, Ash!”

Ashi giggles in response before the bell rings and everyone scatters once again.

Later that night, Ace appears at the door of Ramshackle once he gets word that Grim has taken his place as Deuce’s roommate. He knows that Ashi’s scared of being alone in the dark, so of course he rushes over as fast as he can. Not because he wants to. It’s just what a decent person would do. It’s nothing to give him a weird look about. Right?

A few knocks and he’s let inside, and it’s not like anything has changed much. The dorm is the same old dusty and dainty place it’s always been, except this time he’ll be spending his time in an actual bed. No, it’s not because he’s asked all those previous times that Ashi finally caved in and let him get what he wants. It’s because now they’re just close enough that it’s chill. There’s no other reasoning further than that. Right?

Because he and Ashi are just best friends. He’s not here because he wants to have alone time with her! Ace just wants to see his best friend happy, able to experience all the things she hasn’t. Because that’s what good friends do.

…Right?

Okay, maybe Ace did get a little sidetracked from his main mission now that he thinks about it. The whole idea of being alone with Ashi planted a seed in his head, he admits it, but how could you blame him, honestly? None of that means that he didn’t get what he originally wanted, though. Two birds with one stone! He wins either way!

Still, it’s a night filled to the brim with snarky comments and blissful laughter, and while certain housewardens wouldn’t allow staying up this late, Ace decides that the lack of sleep is worth it. A sleepy Ashi is always cute, cuter than usual, and it’s an evening of rare sights. They’re both laying down all across the bed, staring at the blank ceilings and watching the cobwebs the prefect hates sway with the breeze of the bedroom. It’s calm, and neither of them are thinking about what they’re saying. The norm for one and an uncommon occurrence for the other.

“So how’d your first sleepover go?” Ace mutters, tiredness hitting them both. It’s dim within the room, and it’s thanks to Ashi’s nightlight that they can even take in this atmosphere at all.

“It was pretty hypesies.” Ashi replies back, and it’s a simple exchange. ‘Till she speaks up again after a while, and Ace is surprised at her different tone of voice.

“…Thanks, Acey.”

“Eh? Sounded pretty serious there, Ash.”

“That’s ‘cause I am!”

Ace faintly laughs, “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”

“Really though. I’m pretty sure you’re not as dumb as you look, so you probably caught on already,” Ace’s eyebrows suddenly jump in surprise at the sudden change in character, and Ashi proceeds, “I’m not really used to being this buddy buddy with people, even chicks— And like, it just means a lot to me that you even volunteered to do this with me in the first place. It makes me real happies to call you my bestie, you know?

I like that you’re honest. It makes me feel comfies. I can kinda be more like myself, somethin’ like that? And…” her voice quiets down before she says anything else. Which is somehow both a good and bad thing for Ace.

They both soak in the moment, and Ace’s cheeks feel like they’re burning up just a little. This is probably the most genuine reaction he’s gotten out of her— But at the same time, it’s completely unfair how she’s simultaneously making this seem so casual and yet so impactful.

His train of thought quickly fades away as a small, weak laugh from Ashi breaks through, “Sorries, I got too serious there. You might as well call me Riddle or something at this point,” she murmurs, her voice not quite carrying the energy she intended, “Probs ‘cause it’s past my bedtime.”

Ace hears her sit up a little, and he still stares at the ceiling blankly as he hears the crinkles and turning of the blankets along the bed. His next words practically come out of thin air, cheeks still feeling warm.

“You really should talk more, Ashi.”

The noises he hears suddenly pause, and after a quaint moment of silence, he hears a relieved exhale from the other side of the bed.

“…Thanks, Acey.”

It’s then that Ace wonders if it’s not just his cheeks that are hotter than usual at that moment.

From there on out, Ace feels both better and worse about himself. Because, man, his chest begins to feel kinda weird when he sees her. He swears she’s gotten prettier somehow, but at the same time, he also feels proud that he’s Ashi’s special person— she basically said it herself, y’know? Part of him wonders if this is the farthest he’s gonna get. Both as a friend and, well, maybe more.

So he waits days on end, they have their sleepovers more and more often, and hell, they get to a point where they have sleepovers every day. Ah yeah, the VDC days, amirite?

In his head, Ace thinks that this “era” of “AshAce” (name made by him, proof is in his alchemy notebook) is an era in which their relationship deepened even further.

There’s multiple points and examples he could give, and he’d tell you about ‘em and brag all day if he could. But the most vivid memory for Ace, apart from the one he forcibly tried to forget out of embarrassment, has gotta be when he really saw Ashi speak her mind.

He remembers the rain pittering and pattering outside when he went to go and get a drink. It was a cool night, after everyone was done and exhausted from practice, so he figured the one who’s all “I need my beauty sleep!”, especially, was asleep. Well, until he saw a figure outside and flipped the freak out— Alas, it was just Ashi, but he found it to be pretty out of character for her. She’s notorious for being horrible at dressing herself for the cold, and he’s sure Vil would bark her head off if she got sick before their performance. Ace’s neck still aches in memory of all the times he’s been collared, and he knows that pain of being yelled at by a housewarden all too well. Knowing Ashi? She wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of discipline. So why’s she out there in the first place?

He makes his way outside to investigate, and knocks a couple times on the doorframe, same pattern as he would when stepping through her window. Ashi’s frame jumps in surprise, and she quickly turns around, body stiff and drops of rain across her skin.

“Oh, it’s just you, Acey.”

“You aren’t looking too hot. What’re you even doing out here?”

“Ah…” Her tone of voice trails off, and ends off with a sneeze. Not a good sign.

The boy lets out a somewhat disappointed sigh as he sits down next to her, aware of the sketchbook on the porch as she keeps to herself. Based on the way there’s endless scribbles and several notes floating around the halfway finished sketches, contrasting against the blissful, one-take doodles in class, Ace puts the pieces together and concludes that maybe he’ll stay quiet just this once, the best he can. To prevent himself from getting any more tuckered out, and to prevent Ashi clamming up again.

He doesn’t like oysters, and clams sure aren’t that different in this scenario.

Now that he’s got a better look at her though, Ashi doesn’t seem to be very warm. The rainy ambience gave everything a downer mood, and her lack of a dry jacket is concerning. Her cheeks are wet too; but Ace can’t tell if that’s a byproduct of the weather or her own emotions.

“You don’t wanna get sick, do you? Vil’s never gonna let you hear the end of it.” Ace mutters, as he takes his own NRC blazer and drapes it across Ashi’s shoulders. She gives a faint smile, one saying thanks, before it fades away once again.

“You know me~. Not good with cold weather.”

“You’re even worse with discipline.”

“Fairs.” Ashi sighs, her voice quavering a little. The vibes in the air aren’t it, as Ashi would usually say, and I guess that’s something to apologize for for her.

“Sorry,” she says. It’s a quick mutter, but Ace hears it. And he hears her act unravel further and further, feeling his own heart drop and drop.

Hesitant, she continues, “I’m— I think I’m too tired to keep anything up at this point. There’s been so many issues going on and with managing and performing in VDC and feeling homesick I can’t even look anyone in the face right now. I’m so worried that my smile doesn’t live up to what it usually does, and I’m worried that everyone’s gonna notice and it’s all gonna go to ruins and the whole process of learning the dance and song is gonna get so— so… I don’t know!

I wanna perform. I want to learn from the others, but I don’t want to show them an Ashi that they’ll be annoyed with or make them think she isn’t what she’s lived up to be. I just can’t muster up the courage to push the act, so I end up spiraling down and isolating myself which is so not it for a cooperative project like this. Even if I do show up, the heck are the odds that they’ll be satisfied with such a half-assed act. It’s so hard to keep up.”

And now I’m showing you all of this stuff that I don’t want you to see and it’s embarrassing. It’s… I’m sorry, Ace. I’m sorry.”

Her confession finally comes to an end, and Ashi falls into silence. Meanwhile, Ace’s response is said so quickly— It doesn’t even seem like he’s keeping up with his own words.

“Ashi, seriously, you know I really don’t care, right?”

“…Huh?”

“Actually. I don’t care at all. I can’t speak for everyone else, but I don’t give a care in the world if you’re crying on my shoulder or laughing and doodling on my paper in class,” a breathy laugh follows suit, “Great Seven, honestly, when are you gonna realize that?”

The way Ace’s words just fall out of his mouth make him feel like he’s being too honest and brash again, and he doesn’t want to hurt Ashi in any way. He stops himself for a second before looking at the brunette’s expression, delicate and yet invested. It’s not anything ordinary, and maybe someone would find it weird coming from her. But if anything, Ace is an honest man. Both of them know this.

“You… Man. You know how I said you should talk more? That still holds up. You should think less, if anything. You overthink all these things, and you’re so people pleaser about it. Like— C’mon! You know I’ve got your back. You don’t have to be so cautious and scared of things.”

Ashi can barely process his words.

“Just know that I…”

Ace pauses.

“I… care for you. A lot.”

The silence that follows after is awkward, sure. Two frozen figures under the thin overhead of Ramshackle dorm, and Ace feels like he’s fumbled his words. The one time he hesitates.

Yet, one more raindrop falls to the floor, breaking the silence. And after that, one, two, three follow pursuit.

She doesn’t say anything, and yet Ace hears so much. Offering her his shoulder, they spend just a while longer together, soaking in the moment. Ace doesn’t mind the tears soaking into his clothing. Because if it results in Ashi’s true, sunny smile shining his way, he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all.

Of course, not without some lighthearted teasing.

It’s a bittersweet memory, Ace notes as he reminisces. A memory of many, but definitely one of the highlights, he thinks. Like he said, a pretty core point in their relationship, and an eye opener as to how Ashi works.

…He could even say it helped soothe his own insecurities too.

Ace would consider himself brash, assertive, and I guess in some cases, insensitive of other’s feelings. Other people think that too. It’s part of who he is, the troublemaking prankster he is. It’s a double edged sword. Sometimes people complain about your attitude and think you’re a dick, or sometimes people actually think you’re doing something good on a rare occasion.

While this kind of attitude could totally get you out of sticky scenarios, sometimes Ace’s heart hurts at the way people climb up before him. He did it to himself, really— I mean, he’s gained a reputation and at an expense, he just so happened to lose the chance of hearing some praise. The troublemaker gets something done? At least he’s actually done something. The good guy does it? Everyone’s cheering him on.

It stings a little.

It’s just the way he is, he knows it. He tells himself this again and again. He’s proud of it, but it’s hard to feel like he’s really accomplished something when people treat him the way they do. When he feels like he’s falling behind, all he can do is give snarky remarks to the people above him. He doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t gain anything.

But the rainy clouds fade away when Ashi’s near him, able to put all her trust in his care and see him as something better than a guy who’ll mess things up. She sees him as her knight in shining armor, and Ace’s heart heals.

To be someone people want to be around, and to have people see you for your true self without berating you because of it.

It’s something they both want. Something they both have, now that they’re together. Ace doesn’t wanna let that go. Not for one second.

These memories and thoughts with the girl he really loves are what Ace has to repeat in his mind, over and over and over again in this moment. Because when he’s standing in their little Heartslabyul hideout, the mood perfect and warm just like those paintings Ashi gushes about, voice clear and his back straight, he needs all the evidence he has.

He’s ready to take a shot at making this last forever.

Though, despite how determined he is, it’s not like he’s acting like his palms aren’t insanely sweaty right now. It’s lowkey embarrassing at how riled up he is about this.

Even in his basketball matches, he isn’t this nervous. But maybe it’s ‘cause Ashi isn’t cheering him on now that he’s really feeling the pressure? His thoughts wander and wander… couldn’t she get here sooner?

Jeez, how do you talk to girls again?

Ace has had a girlfriend before. He knows how to treat girls, but this opportunity is so much more stressful. Ashi’s not just a shot at a possible girlfriend for fun. He’s surprised himself if he’s being real about it, that he’s even this serious about them.

He didn’t intend for it to end up this way. To be friends, to best friends, to falling for one another and now, risking it all away in attempts to, what, kiss her? I guess it would be worth it. Wait— maybe he shouldn’t get too cocky about it. But doesn’t Ashi love him because he’s cocky? Wait a minute! Who said she even liked him like that in the first place?!

The redhead groans a little as he throws his head back. His last get-a-girl operation compared to this is insane. From boring stupid love to serious I-love-you-for-real love? Did Ashi really impact him this badly? Did her hopeless romantic disease spread to him too?! At this point, Ace doesn’t know if the break they spent apart while Ashi was off fighting Idia helped him calm down his feelings or make them more prominent.

He wallows in his thoughts a little longer, the doubt slowly consuming him, before a small noise of footsteps make their way towards him, causing him to straighten up. A patch of leaves open up, and Ashi waves through, catching Ace with somewhat of a goofy smile on his face.

Gosh, she really is pretty.

The nervous boy stands and waits for her to make her way towards him, and Ashi looks around the garden. Someone spruced it up, for sure. Starting out as just a simple hideout for Ace when he tried stalling from getting collared by Riddle, and turning into a hangout space for the two of them, Ashi never would’ve thought she’d see it in its full glory like this. Some cute fairy lights, treats on the small table, and even considering her fear of the dark, something about the atmosphere here still makes her feel delighted. It’s nice, but it obviously gives the suspicion that something’s gonna happen.

While she’s stuck enjoying the scenery, Ace can’t help but feel his smile getting even goofier as he watches her. The smile that shines through as she looks over at him tells Ace that he’s gotten successful with the first part.

“Ahaha. Acey, everything’s so bedazzled. What’s happening?” Ashi jokes, her voice chiming through the nighttime breeze. The redhead chuckles a little, before stepping another step closer.

“Just got something to tell you. It’s not a bad joke this time, I swear,” Ace comments, trying to keep the mood light, “So I tried getting the vibes to translate through this and that. Artsy, right? You proud?” He gives a snarky smile, gaining a laugh from the brunette.

“Yeah yeah~. So what is it?” Ashi tilts her head, awaiting for the big reveal. Ace gulps, before going on ahead. Just like he planned.

“Listen, I know that we haven’t really gotten time to spend with eachother since the end of VDC, but the whole break while you were gone… It got me to think about some stuff.” He starts off, focusing on the way Ashi’s expression changes along the way, “It made me really think of all the stuff we’ve been through, together, and I couldn’t help but keep thinking about how close we’ve gotten since you got here.

And NRC is filled to the brim with guys. Heck, some of them even have crushes on you. But…” Ace exhales, his heartbeat quickening as he starts to forget his lines. But in proper Trappola fashion, he bounces back and decides to go with his gut.

Brows furrowed as he clasps Ashi’s hands in his and pulls it to his chest, he spills his heart out to her.

“But none of those guys, and I mean none of them deserve you! You deserve someone you can laugh and cry with. Someone who won’t hate on you for showing something a little weaker than a big grin. Like me.

No matter what, even if we ever butt heads, you know I’ll always set it straight. Heck— I don’t even know how much time you have left in Twisted Wonderland— and I don’t know how much time we have left together. But none of that matters.

Because, Ashi— I love you.

I love you and I want to spend every single second with you. As something more than friends. Something where I can give you all the love you deserve, and you don’t have to be scared.

So please, just answer me.

Will you let me?”

The stars shine in Ashi’s eyes as she processes Ace’s words, and he feels his heart beating out of his chest. The tension is insane, and he can’t do anything but watch her for any sign of a reaction.

Stars, dancing in her eyes as they tear up and shine, her cheeks being painted a rosy red, and her shining smile falling into a soft one.

“Ace…”

“I love you, Ash.”

She laughs as her face faces downwards, hair falling over her eyes, “You idiot…” she mutters, before looking Ace in the eyes once again.

“I love you too. A lot.” Ashi confesses back, voice choking up a little as she laughs again. Again and again. It’s music to Ace’s ears, and he can't help but find himself laughing along as he picks her up and hugs her like it was her last. The two simmer in their emotions for a while, tears and jolly laughter transforming the atmosphere into a lovely and bright scene.

This is another memory to mark down, Ace subconsciously thinks as he holds Ashi in his arms, one to look back on again and again.

And he can’t wait to make even more memories from here on out.

[maximwtf]

“Taking a break, or two.”

Thoma x Reader

Words: 1970

Google Docs Pages: 3

Warnings: adhd having reader implied but not mentioned directly, emotional hurt/comfort, mostly platonic but if you squint it’s implied yall live together

Opening: You’re cleaning with Thoma, but your attention keeps jumping to anything else but the task at hand. After a few light hearted jokes, it really dawns on you how useless you must seem to him. But was that how he saw the situation though..?

AN// Gn reader! Hehe, sorry I disappeared for a while. Literally haven’t been doing anything for weeks, ultimate adhd coma. Maybe making this one self indulgent, but we’re not gonna tell anyone about that now are we :D. First time writing for him so still practising :) (Ironic that this took me ages to write because I can’t focus for the life of me xddd)

“Taking a break, or two.”

Thoma had invited you to come and clean around the Komore teahouse with him. Not that he desperately needed help, especially not you flailing around while he tried to get things done. But perhaps it was your company he needed more than the actual help. So you had agreed to tagging along. 

The sound of Thoma placing something on the table in front of you brought you back from your thoughts. “Housekeeping is something I usually do alone, haha. But I’ll try my best to explain what to do.” He laughed lightly, yet voice still confident. He wasn’t doubting his skills in teaching you, if you happened to need help with anything. “But this should be a simple task either way. Just remember to use this product when cleaning the tabletop. It’s not so strong that it would ruin the shiny coating it has, unlike some other products. Hm, simple?” He smiled, eyes raising back to your form on the other side of the table. One product and one task, can’t be hard. “Yeah! You go and take care of the other tasks. Don’t you even worry about this.” You smiled at the end, repaying his former one. And with that, he was off to get some of the other tasks done. 

You sprayed some of the product onto the table, folding the cloth that’d been next to the bottle neatly. Save the clean side of it for drying the surface at the end. But to your misfortune, after barely having started, a noise disturbs your work. A pair of close by neighbours had stopped by outside and started to chat. The noise from the conversation reached inside the teahouse, catching your full attention and pausing any attempt of cleaning the table. Even with the bits and pieces you were able to hear, you could catch up on them talking about the weather today. Which reminded you, you were all out of tea. 

The men outside had mentioned something about rain, which you remember hearing about as well. It was supposed to start raining later tonight, lasting all the way to the early morning hours. This meant if you wanted tea tomorrow morning, you'd have to make it to the shops before dark. But since you were occupied now, that would take most of your time for this evening. Which then meant you had to think of the fastest route possible to the stalls if you didn’t want to be drenched by the time you got back home. Well, of all the options, Thoma would be the one likely least happy with that outcome. 

But after some time, you were successful in charting the best possible route which shouldn’t take too long. But this thinking session had completely paralysed you, and only the comment from Thoma brought you back to the present. “Excuse me, you over there. Focus please!” A soft chuckle escaped him right after, before he went back to what he’d been doing previously. You shook your head slightly, taking a more firm hold of the cloth in your hand. “Ah, sorry!” And with that you got back to cleaning the table, a crumb of guilt weighing in on your chest after. But doing your best to avoid it and to shine the tabletop. 

After cleaning the table Thoma had asked you to bring a cleaned tea set to the cupboard while he went outside to water a few plants and flowers. An easy task, again. And something that shouldn’t take you ages to do either. Your eyes followed Thoma keenly before he disappeared out the door. You wanted to get up and take the tea set away, but it was as if your seat was pulling you back. But what harm could a small break do? Thoma wouldn’t even make it back before you were done, so you had plenty of time to sit for a moment. Your eyes landed on the pristine tea set, a very fancy one at that. It reminded you of a client who’d passed by earlier and told you about a cup they’d broken by accident. You’d thought of telling Thoma about it earlier but had forgotten because of the list of other things you had undone. A sigh escaped your lips. The next time you saw him, you’d make sure to quickly point it out, if he didn’t already know. 

Your train of thought was interrupted by Thoma walking back in. The tea set sat gracefully on the side of the table, not having moved an inch. You took a quick breath, eyes moving up to Thoma before swiftly standing up. You were about to apologise again but he was able to interrupt you with a light hum mixed with a chuckle. He didn’t seem angry with you, but that didn’t make you feel any better. Not after you watched him take the tea set and bring it to the cupboard himself. If you hadn’t felt useless before, you did now. But maybe if you tried a little harder with the next task, to get at the very least something done instead of having Thoma help you with it. 

You helped him with some minor tasks to get something done, handing him items when he needed them. Nothing he couldn’t have done himself, but it made you feel somewhat useful. 

“Hey, we still have these sets to organise and shelf. Then we’re all done!” Thoma said, catching your attention swiftly in the otherwise rather silent space. You give him a nod and forced a smile to flash at him. “We got it!” You chime before he gave you a cheerful nod and disappeared behind the front desk for a moment. A doubtful sigh escaped your lips before feeling the need to escape for a moment. The feeling of guilt from earlier hadn’t gone anywhere and after following Thoma around like a clueless puppy for the rest of the evening, you didn’t really feel up for much. 

The pressure of knowing he’d return soon from around the corner finally made you crack just enough to slip outside. You walked slowly to the seats outside, sitting down against the wall of the house. Rays of the setting sun hit the very edges of the terrace still, but they didn’t provide any warmth for you. The seat you’d chosen happened to be in the shade, it felt the most peaceful. As if it was the most out of sight spot you could have found to sit with your feelings. 

You leaned your head back, eyes closed to enjoy the fresh air. It felt awful to know Thoma could see how useless you could get, and also know that he wouldn’t have the heart to actually tell you if it bothered him. And it wasn’t like you behaved like that on purpose either, you did honestly try to complete the tasks you said you would. But some days just happened to be like this. At times you feared he’d stop asking you to come along to do things or stop asking for help if you kept disappointing him. Or at least what felt like disappointing him. Especially when this always happened when you were asked to do something, no matter how nicely he asked. 

Some time passed and with it the sun kept slowly setting, last bits of golden light hitting the leaves of nearby trees. It didn’t take long for a certain someone to find you. The sound of his shoes hitting the wooden deck of the terrace echoed lightly, his steps slowing down as he came closer. “Now where did you disappear off to?” He asked before taking a step closer, squatting to your level. “And how come you’re sitting here all alone?” More questions thrown at you, the latter more of an indirect request to join you. “Just taking a break”, you replied with a slight cringe at the end. Who were you to take a break after not doing anything? “Haha, well I wouldn’t have minded joining. May I?” He finally asks, to which you reply with a nod. “Ah, I wasn’t planning on staying for long.” As if you felt like you had any control over the lengths of your breaks when the overwhelming feeling of guilt weighed you down like a boulder. 

A subtle silence fell over the two of you after Thoma settled down next to you. There was a light breeze in the air but it wasn’t cold enough to chase either of you back into the house. Thoma took a breath, though it took him a moment to actually say anything. “Is…everything okay?” He asked, eyes keenly looking at you but not demanding any sort of eye contact. You looked at his lap, not finding the courage to answer his question truthfully while looking at him. “Do you ever think I’m…useless? Or lazy?” You ended up asking instead of answering his initial question. You had just enough time to cast him a look to see the lost expression on his face, eyes a little widened. “No, of course not. Do I have a reason to?” He asks, now more keenly looking at you. Like he felt the need to thoroughly figure this out. “What is this about?” Thoma asked, his brows ever so slightly furrowed in worry. “Well…” You started but had to stop and sigh before rewording your thoughts. “Were you displeased with me today? At any point, did you feel I was just..useless?” And maybe that was just the same question as before, just reworded. But he didn’t fall for this one either, maybe he was being honest…”No, no? I asked you to join me today, I’d never demand anything of you.” He said, the muscles on his shoulders easing out a little as he began to put the pieces together in his mind. “But you said- To pay attention-” You tried to start again but this time he interrupted you. “No, no! I meant nothing with it, honest.” The poor man looked almost frightened at the fact that you even dared to think that way. “Listen, you were a lot of help today. The amount of work you did or didn’t do did not take away from the company you provided. I know how you handle tasks.” He smiled, calming himself at the same time. 

You stared at him blankly for a moment before pouting. “I’m sorry I assumed you- would have thought that way.” You were able to mumble before being brought into a hug. He chuckled lightly, ruffling the back of your head slightly. “Haha, that’s enough. There was no harm done.” He said, pulling back a little. You stared at him for a moment before he asked if you were going to be okay. You both knew the answer was yes but a simple nod never hurt anyone. 

“Maybe we should end the chores for today, hm?” Thoma offered and you took up on it almost immediately. The release from the last tasks eased something in you, allowing you to pay attention to the weather. It was rather late in the evening, but the rain hadn’t seemed to arrive yet. A few dark clouds in the distance, but it would be a while before they’d reach the teahouse. You’d still have time to get the tea if you left now. 

Turning to Thoma you asked if he’d be willing to tag along, if he wanted to. Mostly because you still felt like you had ruined a part of today’s hangout by being so absent, even if he’d deny that. “Of course, come on. I can brew us some when we get home.” Thoma flashed you a gentle smile before standing up and offering you a hand, which you took. And held for most of the walk to the stalls. 

[heartsoji]

"i'm sure. i promise."

suna rintaro x reader

summary: you're feeling a little insecure about you and rin's relationship. but who could blame you? you're at a party with a bunch of people you don't know and your boyfriend is catching up with an "old friend." that would be fine except for the fact that this so-called "old friend" is his ex and looks like she came out of a magazine.

hurt to comfort so its kinda angsty ig?? but not rly bc my heart can't take it lol

warnings: insecurities, body image, post time skip, mentions of alcohol

a/n: THIS IS MY WORK! TRANSFERRED FROM MY OLD ACC

a/n pt. 2: i wrote this at like 1am bc i woke up and this is low-key inspired by the dream i had hehe bc u should always follow ur dreams 😀👍

this. was. the worst.

to give a brief overview, you were at a club with at least a bajillion people because your boyfriend told you that it would be a "fun new experience." he gave you a kiss on the forehead upon seeing that you were nervous and the two of you walked in together.

now, you were sitting at the bar by yourself watching as another girl flirted with your boyfriend.

you were filled in on the backstory earlier. she went to inarizaki and she and suna dated for their first year and a small part of their second year of high school. she then had to move to the united states (specifically los angeles) and they ended up breaking up.

you had transferred to inarizaki in the middle of your second year, and you and suna started dating 3/4 through your third year, so you had never met her before. your classmates had never mentioned her before either. and when suna introduced you to the girl as his girlfriend, she shot you the nastiest glare before smiling sweetly at your boyfriend.

anyways, one thing led to another, and they got so caught up in chatting that they hadn't noticed how bored you were, nor had they noticed when you silently walked away.

after taking another sip of your drink, you let your eyes wander to the two of them.

a fatal mistake.

she was beautiful. no, stunning. no, show-stopping-looks-like-she-just-stepped-out-of-the-front-page-of-a-magazine-absolute-drop-dead-gorgeous was probably more accurate.

she was wearing a tiny black figure-hugging bodycon dress with a cutout just above her chest that looked amazing on her beautiful hourglass figure. she had platinum blond hair that was pulled up into a long high ponytail, big grey eyes, and shiny, clear skin.

you looked down at your own figure. then at hers. then back at yours. then hers.

though you knew it wouldn't do any good, your mind began to wander.

are these the kinds of girls rin likes?

she's so beautiful.. her waist is so tiny

i wish i could be half as pretty as her

what if rin still likes her?

what if rin doesn't actually love me..?

you knew that you needed to stop. you decided to slip out to get some fresh air.

you sat down on a bench at the park across the street (don't question why a place where children play is directly across from a club. just don't mention it) and inhaled the cool air. you were so relieved to be out of that club. so relieved that your eyelids began to feel heavy.

you awoke to a string of "ping! ping! ping!" rubbing your eyes sleepily, you opened your phone to see who would be texting you so urgently.

rinnie <3: where'd u go

rinnie <3: where r u

rinnie <3: hey bb where'd u go

rinnie <3: bubs?

rinnie <3: hey r u mad at me

rinnie <3: what did i do

rinnie <3: im sorry

rinnie <3: ok srsly where r u

rinnie <3: r u ok

rinnie <3: WHERE R U

rinnie <3: no srsly im actually worried where did u go

rinnie <3: BABE

rinnie <3: WHERE R U

There are 83 more messages from rinnie &lt;3. Click to continue!

oops.

you: sorry babe

rinnie <3: WHERE R U

you: i went outside for some fresh air

you: im at the park across the street

the club doors swing open and see your boyfriend's head furiously whipping around, trying to find you. when he sees you, he sprints over to where you're sitting.

"sorry babe." you apologize. "i didn't mean to worry you." you had never seen him look so frantic before.

"so you mean to say.." he starts before pausing to catch his breath, "that you thought that leaving without telling me and not responding to my texts wouldn't worry me?"

"i'm sorry." you say, before adding on a quick and quiet "to be fair though, you were having such a great time with ms. los angeles model that i didn't think that you would notice."

though it was quiet and muttered under your breath, suna heard it loud and clear. he sighed.

"look, we didn't break up because she was moving. we broke up because i was sick and tired of her nasty attitude. i just didn't want to be rude and say that in front of her. the only thing that's changed about her is that she's learned how to put a smile mask over her disgusting personality. a really phony one that's made out cling wrap with a sharpie smile and a bow."

you giggled slightly at this.

"look," he says softly, lifting up your chin to look you in the eyes. "you're the only one that i love. i promise, ok? you're so beautiful and sweet and it's crazy to me that god finally decided to give me some help and give me a chance with you."

he gave you a small smile.

"i love you, y/n. i love you so, so much."

and with that, he swooped you up in his arms bridal style and started walking.

"WOAH- rin where are we going?"

"home."

"but it'll take a while to walk home from here. shouldn't we just uber like we did here?"

"walking gives me more time to be close to you and talk to you."

"but you'll be walking while simultaneously holding me for a while."

he blinked. "i play professional volleyball. if you think that i can't take a walk home with my girlfriend in my arms, i'd honestly be pretty offended."

"right."

there was a brief moment of silence between the two of you.

"i'm sorry if i made you feel sad today, bubs. i love you so so much and i'll stop at nothing to make sure that you know that."

you smiled softly.

"that's what i like to see." he said, peppering ticklish kisses onto your neck to make you giggle a little.

"rin! stahahap-!" you giggle, trying to scrunch up and protect your neck.

"your laugh and smile are the two most precious things in the world."

you and rin talked the rest of the way home and he kept reminding you of how much he loved you.

when you finally got home, you asked him one final question.

"rin, are you sure that there's no more chemistry going on between you and ms. los angeles model?"

he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"i'm sure. i promise."

[minustwofingers]

love is a laserquest p.2

series masterlist (read p1 here!)

pairing: rockstar!ellie williams x reader

request: @thatgiraffefromtlou so kindly included me on a post about writing something inspired by these beautiful edits :) thank you !

summary: after a serious of unfortunate events, columbia grad y/n y/l/n finds herself using her hard-earned journalism degree interviewing vapid stars and writing articles that she's convinced are rotting her mind. ellie williams has just dropped the album of the year and it's all anyone is talking about, but all she wants is to be off the press train. a certain interview with a certain interviewer might change this.

cws: explicit language, kind of suggestive phrasing? (i get a little feral with guitar playing descriptions), shitty bosses, mentions of nausea and throwing up (no one actually does tho dw), y/n is anxious asf, my writing is a little....yikes...in this one, loser!ellie

a/n: i lied i lied hehe. here's the next part. im still working on building this stupid app so i havent been able to write as much recently + holiday family stuff but oh am i back!

here's a playlist inspired by this fic

wc: 2.4k

tags: tags :) @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie@galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28 @diddiqueen @krisyslostsoul

enjoy mwah

It starts slow, like the drip of a broken faucet. It’s not like you’re actively seeking out anything Ellie William’s related, but somehow it seems like everything Ellie Williams related is seeing you out. 

In the grocery store, one of her hit songs from her newest album blaring over the speakers.

On the street, where you see crumpled pages of magazines with her face plastered all over them. 

And—perhaps the most offensively—on NPR and the New York Times, quite literally days after you’d met her. Suddenly Steve Inskeep and Leila Fadel begin the Up First podcast with a familiar song and devote an entire third of the morning podcast to Ellie and her band’s rise to fame. 

You decide to switch to the BBC World News for a while, but even they seem to be under her spell.

It’s not that you don’t like Ellie. She seems fine. Normal. Really cute, actually, and clearly very talented. But whenever you think about her, you think about the ill-fated, awkward, charmless interview.

“What happened?” Alyssa had asked you when she’d come back from surgery. “That wasn’t you out there.”

Which was actually very hurtful to hear, because you’d been holding onto the hope that you’d been all in your head about your interview being a failure. It all culminates in Eric, your 300 year old manager, sending you a strongly worded email that told you that your performance in the interview was so underwhelming that you were being pulled from the interviewer pool and exiled to article writing land. Which could be worse, you admit. You could be unemployed on the streets of LA. At least you’re still writing. 

And write you do. You spend all your waking hours either at your keyboard, on your yoga mat, or sat in a chair somewhere at a local cafe for a coffee chat. You’ve mostly deleted social media, since all you see nowadays are pictures of Ellie and Becca’s posts about her experience working and loving her life in New York (the algorithm apparently knows exactly what you want to see the most). 

It’s bizarre that, even as you try your best to place your focus on honing your craft and consuming only content that you think will make you a better writer, you still somehow learn everything and more about Ellie Wlliams and her band. It’s in the emails at work whose chains you’re CC’ed on. It’s in the advertisements and the billboards everywhere. It’s even in the conversations you have with your two roommates, Greta and Maureena. 

“She’s so fucking cool,” says Maureena dreamily as you sit around the TV in the living room. “I still can’t believe you got to talk to her.”

“It’s not like I actually got to, like, get to know her or whatever,” you say. “It was honestly kind of dry. Just awkward small talk.”

“That’s more than anyone else I know can say.” She reaches forward and grabs a fistful of popcorn. “How come she gets interviewed by the person who probably cares about her the least in all of LA? Like, what are the chances?”

“I care,” you say, and it sounds unusually defensive coming out of your mouth.

Maureena gives you a long, suspicious look, but before she can respond, Greta comes bursting into the apartment, purse swinging from her shoulder.

A greeting is halfway out of your mouth when she cuts you off. 

“You guys will not believe what I just did.” She’s nearly bursting with excitement, her eyes bright and wide. 

“Like, in a good way?” you ask. 

“Yes. Obviously!” Greta fishes around in her pocket until she pulls her phone out, waving it around. “Check your email.”

The last time Greta had come in with an entrance this energetic, she’d been coming to inform you both that she was getting engaged to her loser boyfriend Brian (which—thank God—didn’t actually last), so you and Maureena trade nervous looks. 

Maureena gets to it first. 

“Tickets to see Ellie Williams? Tonight?” Now she’s about to explode with giddiness, leaping from the couch and throwing her arms around Greta. “I love you, I love you, I love you. How did you get these? I thought they were, like, totally sold out. Or ten thousand dollars.” 

She grins wickedly, holding her hands out in a “who knows” sort of way. “You can all thank me later. We have to leave in about 20 if we want to get there in time. Y/N, you good?”

You’d been staring on in horror, jaw dropped and body completely frozen. You had registered that Ellie was playing in LA tonight—it’s all anyone you knew talked about at work today—but you never once considered actually going to try to see her. “Uh, yeah. Give me just a few.”

By the time you get to the venue, you’re convinced that you might actually puke from the nerves. It’s ridiculous. It’s not like three broke 20 some year olds were going to get last minute seats to an Ellie Williams concert that were genuinely good seats. It’s not like she would see you and realize that the girl who flopped while interviewing her was a big enough fan to attend. You’re going to be fine. 

“Shit, Grets, how are we so close?” asked Maureena as she leads you both closer and closer to the front. 

Horror steadily rises within you as you approach the front row. 

“I got these from my boss,” she says, turning around with a devilish glint in her dark brown eyes. “Her daughter got food poisoning, bless her. She had to stay back to take care of her, and I was the only one who stayed late to work, so…”

Greta’s boss was some filthy rich nepo baby who was a partner of a big talent agency. All of a sudden you feel stupid for not realizing this sooner.

“Shit,” you say, mostly to yourself. “Oh no. Oh my god.”

“Isn’t this so cool!” Greta jumps up and down, hands on your shoulders as she tries to rile you up. “Dude, what if she recognizes you?” 

“I think I’m going to puke,” you say miserably. Somehow the thought of her seeing you made you want to crawl inside your skin in shame and hide for the next calendar year. “Did you guys not see how ass it was? I was so fucking awkward.”

“It wasn’t even that bad.” Maureena pats your shoulder. 

“I literally was forbidden from ever interviewing again because it was so bad.”

“Because Eric hates women,” says Greta. “It’s not your fault he’s a horrible human being. Give it, like, a year or so until he croaks. Then they’ll let you back in the game.”

“Uh huh,” you say, feeling very harrowed. 

You remain in this state of abject terror for the entire opener performance. The nausea doesn’t subside. It only gets worse when you realize that if you actually puke, Ellie’s definitely going to see it. Just like she’s going to see you, with the stupid stars Greta had insisted you paint on your cheekbones with glittery eyeliner and eyeshadow. 

“She really likes space,” Greta had told you while you’d been getting ready, pretending like you didn’t already know all about this. “So all of her fans wear star stuff to see her.”

Before you can think to wipe off the glitter, everything goes black. Then the crowd goes wild. 

When the silvery blue light spills onto the stage, it illuminates Ellie, standing just a number of feet away from you. You barely have enough time to take in the black leather coat and loose white shirt she’s wearing before music explodes out of the speakers, her fingers flying up and down the fretboard. 

You’re spellbound as you watch her. Her voice rings loud and clear and slightly gravelly when it snags on her words. She’s nothing at all like the girl you’d met a month ago—there’s no discomfort, no awkwardness. She looks like she’s born to be on stage. 

When the first song ends, she steps back, grabbing the standing mic next to her. 

“Uh. Hi,” she says, and it’s so endearingly nervous compared to how she’d just sounded that something in your chest twists. She rubs the back of her neck. “I’m Ellie.”

Greta and Maureena join the crowd, screaming and cheering. 

“I LOVE YOU!” someone shrieks, louder than everyone else.

“You know,” she says, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to people reacting like this to me just, like, saying my name. It’s really fucking weird. Oh. Shit. Sorry. Are you guys okay with me swearing?” 

The roar that comes from the crowd is entirely undecipherable. 

“Right,” says Ellie. “Um. I’ll take that as a yes. Sorry to anyone who brought their kids or something. Anyway, this one’s about the ex who cheated on me and gave me mono.” 

Before you can react to that, she starts playing. 

As she proceeds through the setlist, you’re struck by just how close you are to her, how many things you can notice that hardly anyone else in the crowd can see. You see the outline of her phone in her pocket, the pieces of hair that have fallen out of her little half bun and are sticking to her face, the way that the glitter on her collarbones trails down her shirt in little rivulets. 

And, above everything else, you can see the horrible way her fingers straddle the fretboard, curling and pressing with ease so practiced it looks tender. 

Apart from this bad, bad development (you can feel your mind going a million miles an hour about things you should not be thinking about), things are going great. Ellie hasn’t noticed you. Or even looked in your direction. You’re not even sure she can see you, given how little light is shed onto the crowd. The false sense of security makes you feel comfortable singing along with Greta and Maureena, your lips forming the lyrics you’d been pretending to not listen to whenever her songs came on. 

It happens during a slower song, a sort of ballad that makes your heart thud harder in your chest to hear from her mouth. The lights on stage dim a little. Light spills just the slightest onto the front of the crowd, and Ellie’s eyes fall and snap onto yours so decisively that it almost feels audible. 

For a moment, you can’t breathe. Ellie’s voice suddenly catches mid-word, faltering and missing a beat. She thrusts her hand with the mic into the crowd, which eagerly picks up where she left off and finishes the verse. 

It’s impossible to see on the screen projecting her image behind her, but you can see the flicker of recognition in her eyes, the stiffness that comes with realizing that you actually know someone from somewhere. 

You’re the one who breaks eye contact, focused with a sudden intensity on the way the thin fabric of your sleeves are situated on your arms. 

Greta pokes you so hard in your ribs that you gasp. 

“What the fuck!” you snap, but the words are swept away by the noise around you. 

“Why didn’t you wave?!” she hisses in your ear. “She totally recognized you.”

The realization falls over you with the subtlety of an anvil. Oh my god. You totally should’ve waved. That was the normal, well-adjusted thing to do. Now she was going to think you were weird. And it was too late now. But she didn’t wave to you. Wasn’t she supposed to wave first? Because you of course remembered her, but she might not remember you. Yeah. You could go with that.

Maybe she didn’t remember you. 

You can’t relax for the rest of the concert. You try your best to just act normal and dance along with your friends and casually mouth the words, but it’s hard when it feels like she’s staring at you. Which is completely impossible. The light doesn’t fall back onto the crowd until the concert is over and Ellie and her band are long gone backstage. 

~

Two months later, all you can think about is the way that Ellie stuttered over her words when she saw you in the crowd. Of course, this is definitely something you’ve made up in your mind, because there’s a number of reasons why she might’ve slipped up. Maybe she just thought she knew you from somewhere and couldn’t place it. That’s why she (allegedly) kept looking in your direction afterwards. Or maybe you’re completely batshit insane, and she didn’t look at you at all. Because if she had, wouldn’t she have waved? Right?

It’s almost bad enough to distract you from work. You find yourself prowling on Twitter, watching the #elliewilliams tag blow up following every concert date. It doesn’t give you any clarity, because in every picture, she looks just as perfect and cool and confident as she was at the LA show. You don’t know why you assumed she’d look different if it was true that she’d recognized you. More human, maybe. But she’s just as bathed in starlight as she was that night many weeks before, just as far away and untouchable. 

You spend so much time thinking about her that you’re convinced you might’ve slipped into a dream when Eric appears at your cubicle with the news.

Instead of saying hello, he plops a stack of papers on the desk in front of you, all labeled “PopNow! Interview Etiquette”. 

“Excuse me?” you say. 

“Start reading up, kid,” says Eric. “You’re back in the game.”

“What?” 

“You have an interview scheduled later this week.” He scowls down at you, gum smacking in his mouth. He smells faintly of tobacco. 

“But I thought I was removed from—”

“You still are,” he says. “But someone requested you. Their manager told us they wouldn’t talk to us if they didn’t get you.”

“What?” 

He huffs out a short laugh. “Believe me, I was surprised too. Don’t know what they’re on about after the last time you talked to their client. Fuck this one up and you’re out, okay? Got it? The info’s in your inbox already.” 

Somehow the words don’t quite sink in until you open the email and see the words on paper. 

SENDER: Maria Miller

RECIPIENT: Eric Bal

CC: ewilliamsmusic@gmail.com, y/ny/l/n@popnow!.com

Eric,

Great to hear back from you. Glad that 3 next Wednesday works. 

Best,

MM

final a/n: lmk how u guys feel about this...feeling a little unsure about where this is going but enjoying writing it anyway there are two wolves inside of me etc. etc. also ive missed u all! i hope everyone is doing well! dont b shy!

[mabelstone]

Prof. Stone.

matt stone x reader

summary: your calculus professor's got it out for you. you're going to change that.

word count: 831

note: a short introductory chapter. no 18+ (yet... hehe)

hes a bit of a dick in this one but he will get nicer. maybe.

pls lmk what you think! asks are always open with suggestions :)

also i dont know why the picture quality sucks sorry

Part One.

You begrudgingly walked into lecture theatre for your calculus class; the one you’d had to take for extra credits. You’d hated math ever since elementary, but since you weren’t doing well in your psychology degree, you had to pick up an extra course over the summer. As calculus was the only class not full, here you were, surrounded by a bunch of arrogant overachievers who seemed to be passing you in every way imaginable.

To make things worse, your professor had it out for you, or at least it felt that way. As the rest of the class piled in filling the seats around you, you rested your arms on the tiny desk, your head following suit with an exhausted sigh.

After several minutes passed, the chatter in the room died down and the theatre door echoed shut. “Morning,” your professor mumbled, placing his things down on his desk before taking out his laptop and fiddling with the projector. He was a tall, sinewy man probably in his late forties, early fifties, with short, curly hair, and a neatly kempt beard. He was a handsome man, and you often heard girls in the class whispering about him, and no doubt, he heard too. You could tell by his demeanour, the way he carried himself. He knew he was good looking, which in his mind meant he didn’t need to go out of his way to be friendly. You lifted your head from your arms and opened your laptop, wishing more than anything you were still in bed.

As you waited, you rested your hand on your cheek, letting out a large yawn. The mumbling in the background seemed to fade as you allowed your eyes to flutter closed.

“Usually, we rest before we come to class,” you jolted awake at the harsh voice of your professor, who was only inches from your face.

“Sorry, sir, I-“

“Alright!” He proclaimed to the class, ignoring you and heading back to the front of the theatre. “I was very impressed with the assessments you turned in, give or take a few.” The class chuckled at his snide comment, causing you to huff and slump back into your seat. That assessment kicked your ass and there was no way you passed. “I’ll pass out your results shortly, but in the meantime, revise chapters fourteen to thirty; they’re relevant to your exam.”

As he handed out everyone’s papers, you flicked through to page fourteen, struggling to keep your eyes open. “Y/N,” your professor approached your desk in a hushed tone, his green eyes piercing through you with a glint of disappointment. “Stay back once everyone leaves, okay?” You nodded, your face turning red as he slid the paper onto your desk; 20% circled in bright red marker. Fuck.

As the lesson wrapped up, he said goodbye to the class and packed his things away. You remained seated at your desk, heart pounding, incredibly embarrassed. You watched as the last two girls in the class went up and thanked him for their grades, batting their eyelashes and claiming that they were so grateful.

“You’re welcome, ladies,” he smiled, ushering them out of the theatre. He made his way over to you, clasping his hands together. “Right, you know why you’re here, yes?”

You sighed loudly, slouching back into your seat. “Stab in the dark, could it be my shit grade?”

“Well, it’s not because of your wonderful attitude,” he huffed sarcastically, leaning on the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest. “Why are you even taking this class, Y/N?”

You shrugged, crossing your own arms. “I need the points,” you claimed in a blasé tone.

“You’re not gonna get them with this pathetic effort,” he snickered, watching the way you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Did you even try?”

“Of course I did,” you retorted in defence. “I just have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

He moved toward you, not breaking eye contact, his voice stern. “Maybe you would if you didn’t sleep every lesson.” He walked over to your desk, placing his large, veiny hand onto your paper, chuckling under his breath, "you certainly aren't tired from studying calculus."

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, gathering your things. “Did you seriously hold me back to belittle me? Look, Mr. Stone, I’m sorry I didn’t do well.” You made your way to the door feeling humiliated. You wouldn’t be coming back. “It wouldn’t hurt you to be a little nicer by the way.”

Just as you were about to grab the handle, he spoke up. “I will help you.” You dropped your hand turning back to him. “If you will actually try and not waste either of our time, I will help you. Because you will not pass without it.”

“Okay.” You replied dryly. You knew he was right.

“Stay back tomorrow after class.” He nodded to the door, and without another word, you left.

Okay, maybe you would be coming back.

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

Adding on to the info dump that you have kindly graced me with, my first though when I heard that Abyss can make drugs out of their venom when diluted and then after reading what relations they would have, or lack of, was that is angel just so happens to stumble upon them making a batch to sell off. Angel could be like peeking into their room (oh yeah this is when they become a member of the hotel officially) and so when Abyss decided that they had enough to sell and goes on break, leaving their room unguarded, I think angel would be the curious soul that he is would check out what bro was cooking.

If Angel found out that it was a drug they made form their venom by just a small test, personally—and you are free to correct me if you want—I believe that Angel would basically try to ask for drugs off of Abyss for free since it’s a nice thing and that’s what the hotel is aiming for and if that doesn’t work he’ll try to pester them (which wouldn’t last long I bet) and if he still gets ‘no’ for an answer, he would try to steal them which made abyss start hiding their batches, getting a lock on their room door or just making the batches outside the hotel and an instant delivery. That’s my personal take tho and I thought it would make for something funny but could be used for some slight bonding or something? However way you wanna go with this.

Secondly, Alistor just picking up Abyss from seemingly out of nowhere was just funny and the image I saw in my head was like him pinching the “scruff” of Abyss as they freeze up, cuz y’know, bro was just picked up no warning. Oh yeah forgot to mention that I can see this happening in both normal sizes as well as their shrunken state which would probably be the most obvious choice hehe. Okay onto what I was not here for cuz I just thought of this right before I was inches away from sending! >:p.

You said that you would be unsure of what could lead to any Vore scenarios because he is chill with Abyss and such, unless he was PISSED. (Based off memory so could be wrong but Anygay-) now I’m not one who knows what abyss is like, like the back of my hand, but form what I do know and a half awake brain the only scenario I see working is that maybe Abyss could be in an annoyed mood from like one buyer that asked for drugs didn’t exactly have any plan to pay in the first place and made it seem like they would pose a threat to their life which they had no intentions to but it was a way to avoid paying and getting a lot of free drugs. This would couse their panic mode to activate slightly and they would shrink (causing rumours to go around about abyss and harming their business since demons can now use that to their advantage) so when they return maybe a little shrunken and in a little pissy mood they could retaliate if Alistor was to like do his usual thing of spooking them or something of the sort which wasn’t too much appreciated and thus the final straw was snapped and maybe an insult or two slipped out, voice slightly raised. Abyss heads back to their room and flopping down onto their bed to just cool off and not even 5 minutes later Alistor comes back to be a bother but something seems a lil off with him (bc bro took that one personally).

Leaving the rest to you (mostly cuz my lesson is gonna start rn. Woo, college ) Anygay hope this helps you at least, go wild with it.

Have a happy day and always stay gay!! That’s my new motto now, Sue me.

- 🌽 anon

Alright, everyone, buckle up for another long response!

I was thinking more like Abyss sold their pure venom to drug makers and dealers rather than making the drug themself, but I'll give them a small drug setup themself for extra cash

As for your Angel Dust idea, the most logical trail in my mind was to have him trying to find a drug stash since he's left them scattered all over the hotel, hoping that the furniture he used to hide his own drugs were still there. Of course, they're not, but he comes across their dilution station (WIP page below)

Abyss honestly wouldn't care if Angel Dust wanted to try some of the drug and would probably offer him a batch for free. They're not super in it for the money and just do it as a way to pass time and stuff. They could probably use their network of buyers to figure out information on people if they ever felt interested in trying to start gathering their own territory. But, given that they were kind of depressed in life, you can imagine the amount of motivation they have, lmao

They're definitely getting a new lock for their room though

Also, the Alastor scruffing them and presenting Abyss to everyone was the idea. But, in my head, he uses his shadow abilities/tentacles to snatch them from wherever they are and just materialize them in front of everyone else. I also have the headcanon that he can nullify other demons abilities somewhat, so they wouldn't be presented shrunk. This also mitigates them trying to calm themself and regrow inside of Alastor, soooo, you know. I feel like he’d occasionally scruff Abyss like he does Nifty 

And, your big paragraph is the paragraph that brought up an animatic idea of the potential drug deal. I’m gonna be honest, I’ve thought way too much about everything, haha

Abyss has almost definitely been killed a couple times since falling into Hell. I imagine the majority of demons have been killed at least once since falling, and since we hear Velvette literally say that she “can’t wait for that unlucky bitch to put herself together”, I’m thinking they either regenerate/stitch back together or re-fall depending on how pulverized the body ends up being. As such, they’re not unused to threats. They’re small and have been considered an easy target since first showing up

In the animatic, if I get to it, will be a stand off between a bunch of shark demons (I just like their designs in the show) and Abyss. In it, the sharks are more than happy to try and kill them to get the goods, but it’s basically just a show of how agile/quick Abyss can be on their feet while also using their shrinking to their advantage with part of a banger song in the background. Sort of, like, the stress apathy takes over, you know? They would definitely need to spend a few days in the hotel to destress though, I imagine you never QUITE get used to being killed over and over again

Also, I can’t imagine rumors really holding much stock on their rep? They don’t really have one and try to remain low-key anyways to try not to appear like a threat, and they don’t tell anyone they sell to where they get the ‘pure stuff’ to avoid the potential of other demons attempting to capture them just to use them as a literal cash cow for their venom concentrate. If people want to think of them as weak and an easy pushover because they can shrink, they’re fine with that because that usually means they get left alone unless someone feels like kicking the demon equivalent of a puppy. I also feel like they’re likely to be overlooked a lot despite being bioluminescent

And, I still don’t even know what kind of comment Abyss would realistically make to piss Alastor off (I know he hates being told about or thought of as having less control than he exudes, but Abyss would definitely not really see him as not having a full deck, so to speak), but that won’t stop me from drawing them together. Maybe they asked a bit too much about him because he’s a contradictory fuck who loves people wondering about his deal, but refuses to talk about it to drum up the mystery. Abyss would definitely feed his ego a bit with curious questions

Anyways, that’s all for now! I have a bunch to do if I don’t want more to pile up and leave me in a stressed paralysis

[demonpoxballad]

The Last Name - oneshot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: There’s one more name from the past bouncing around Bucky’s head. One more scribble ripped from the pages of Steve’s old book. Another person to make amends with. Except this one is different: he can’t remember doing anything wrong. No murdering or enabling of evil plans. No threats or political conquests. In fact, Bucky can’t remember much of her at all.

Warnings: smut ***18+ only***, angst, alcohol, lots and lots of feelings hehe

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Wowowow I don't even want to know how long it's been since I last posted! Let's just say I've been very busy participating in an actual social life, which is very tiring, omg how do people do it? Ngl I really love this one, lmk what you think!

Taipalsaari, present-day:

Dinner was a romantic affair. She felt human again, in a way that only fresh tomatoes and rosemary and Bucky’s soft lips could invoke.

He was so close. And he kept on touching her, all over, little brushes here and there, his warmth behind her as she stood at the stove like an extension of the steam ebbing from the frying pan. She was hypersensitive. Couldn’t concentrate on anything. Not with him like this: all soft wool and freshly washed hair. He smelled like her soap; she resolved to stock up a lifetime’s supply for him before they left for New York.

Bucky leaned over to taste some sauce, his hand coming to rest on her hip - the last straw. A drink. She needed a goddamn drink. The homemade vodka came clinking down from the shelf, clear and strong and lethal. That would sort her out.

“Where did you even get this?” Bucky inspected the bottle.

“The fish market,” she explained.

“Huh.”

They sat down with the food and drinks. The table had always had 2 chairs as companions, even before Bucky had found her. She’d crafted two sets of tableware as well, and used to alternate between them, one dirty set and one clean. Now everything got dirty at the same time, and they washed it all up together. She never thought she’d be so grateful to have more housework.

While they ate Bucky rested his foot against hers. She took another sip every 30 seconds in an effort to cope.

After too much food and half the bottle, they were twirling around the room, dirty dishes discarded and forgotten. There was time to wash them tomorrow. There was always more time. Bucky had placed his phone in a bowl, and a tinny little tune was dancing around the room. It wasn’t much use for a waltz, but at least it was something.

“I’ve missed music so much,” she said, pressing her nose into his collarbone, massaging the collar of his sweater with her lips.

“I’ll get you music,” Bucky said, raising their hands so she could spin. She threw her head back and laughed. “I’ll get you so much music.”

Shaking her head, she smiled like she really couldn’t help it. “I want to buy a record player,” he continued. “Did you know they were back in fashion? You can get them anywhere nowadays.”

“That’ll be nice,” she said.

“Mmhmm.”

He kissed her. Enthusiastically, at that. Leaning so far into her that she stumbled backwards, fingertips buried in his shoulders.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“I’ve got you." He squeezed her waist. They stopped dancing. Bucky swayed occasionally, but nothing enough to distract from his lips. And his hands. And everything inbetween. Her body slowly became limper with his attention, more and more liquid as he became more solid, holding her tighter and firmer. She melted into a puddle at his feet, stretching out on the bed languidly as he bent to meet her. Laying half on top of her, one arm supporting his weight, the other free to touch.

“We didn’t . . .” he began, his voice low and crackly like he hadn’t spoken in days. His thumb traced the underside of her bottom lip. She fought the urge to coax it into her mouth. “When we were hiding . . . did we?”

“What?” she said. “Did we what?”

“Um.” Bucky’s ears went red. She’d never seen him like this before, so flustered, his words escaping him. She tried not to enjoy it too much. “Have sex?”

Her eyes went wide and then Bucky got worried, she could see it in the corners of his face, all the subtleties: the backtracking plan. He could still get himself out of this hole he’d dug, it was okay, they could still go back to normal, back to the moment right before he’d mentioned it, they could forgive, they could forget . . .

But she didn’t want to backtrack. She wanted to go forward. And keep going forever, until there wasn’t anywhere else to be.

“Oh,” she laughed, thin and awkward, trying to act casual. “No, we never did that.”

“Okay,” he said. “Good. I thought so.”

“Why is that good?”

Bucky didn’t hesitate. “Because I’ve been looking forward to it. To, um . . . being with you. For the first time.”

She could pretend to be disinterested. She could be coy, aloof. She’d done that before, with all sorts of people, important to her or not. But she found herself actually incapable of coordinating her face into one of indifference at that moment. She loved him. She loved him so much. He was sexy without even trying to be. And she’d never been at this point of intimacy before. The point at which all the mess, the tears, the embarrassment, all the blood and screaming and shame. . . the point at which they all fed into the space between them, charging it, making her body feel like it was about to be struck by lightning, thrumming, alive; she was feeling it all so much. She was feeling him so much.

Because that’s the thing with falling in love: there’s a moment, before you take all your clothes off, before you give yourself over, before the point of no return. There’s that moment when you feel the need to get completely naked. Not physically. Though it is a kind of shedding, of course, just of moral sensibilities, inhibitions. It’s a whisper across bedsheets: you don’t know what I’m actually like. It’s a scream from your core: I think I might be a terrible person. There’s something wrong with me, there’s been a mistake, you shouldn’t want to love me.

But please. Stay with me.

Bucky was different, though. He already knew the worst of her, there was nothing more to reveal. He’d heard her wails, seen her open fire, witnessed her cowardice. All she had to do was give in.

“Are you coming onto me, like, right now?” she said.

“Is it the wrong moment?” he said. “I gotta tell you, I’ve been thinking about it for two weeks. I’m not even gonna pretend anymore.”

“Oh my god, Bucky.” She sat up, rolling him away onto his back. She needed air. The cabin felt like fever.

“But you can tell me to shut up, seriously,” he said. “Just say the word and I’ll stop.”

“No. Don’t – I don’t want you to stop. Just . . .” she made a sound halfway between a growl and a whine, “you’re going to be the death of me, honestly.”

He looked uncertain again.

“You make me dizzy,” she whispered, looking back at him. “You make me so dizzy.”

He smiled. Touched a finger to her spine. “In a good way?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not going to faint?”

“I might,” she teased.

“I’ll catch you.”

“Yes.”

“Come here.” He pulled her on top of him, pushing her hair away from her face. His fingers went back to her lips and she took them this time, sucking, watching his eyes as they drooped and rolled.

“Fuck,” he groaned, lower than she’d ever heard him before. “Sweetheart.” The sound went straight through her, to her toes, echoing across the mattress, throbbing around the room. She felt him everywhere.

And he was hard, too. She could definitely feel that. She rolled her hips against his but he stopped her, gripping hard, head falling back. She gasped against his throat. It was so much. This was all so much.

“Please,” she complained. “Touch me.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Anywhere you want.”

So he touched her everywhere. She glowed beneath him, spread wide, surrendered. And he made her feel so good; so good she was honestly in shock. His face buried between her legs, mouth working in earnest rhythm, not stopping until she tugged at his hair, tight, so much tighter than she could ever intend, hips seizing beneath him. And him inside her, barely able to control himself, trembling but slow, so slow, too slow.

She gripped his hips and melded her lips with his earlobe. She needed to be heard.

“I can’t tell you how scared I was, Bucky,” she said.

“I was so relieved to see you,” she said.

“I thought I was going to be alone forever," she said.

“I’ve got you,” he replied, whining, desperate. “I’ve always got you.”

Taglist: @mayasreadingnook @writing-for-marvel @howlermonkey69 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @cuddlycalcifer @bambamwolf87 @twinerd14 @violets-library @hallecarey1 @cjand10 @navs-bhat @themorningsunshine

[wen-kexing-apologist]

15 people, 15 questions

I got tagged by: @rocketturtle4 and @italianpersonwithashippersheart

1. are you named after anyone?

One of my names is shared with a family member.

2. when was the last time you cried?

Probably a day or two ago, my mother is re-homing the dog sometime in January which I am very opposed to, but this trip is the last time I'll see her so I've been very emo.

3. do you have kids?

Not at the moment

4. what sports do you play/have you played?

Swords! hehe, stabby stab.

5. do you use sarcasm?

Oh, probably like 90% of the time, yeah.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

Difficult question, I think it depends on the person and how I met them. I feel like I tend to latch on to people's personalities more than anything else.

7. what’s your eye color?

Not stupid big brown baby cow eyes, even though my commentary on the sort is at least a fraction of my brand on this website.

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Yes. I will not pick one because I think both are important and serve different purposes. Not every story needs a happy ending, not every movie needs to be scary. When I do watch scary movies, I prefer them to be hauntings, so like Haunting of Hill House is one of my favorite pieces because it is just so fucking beautiful. When I think a story really deserves a happy ending it is when the characters have suffered through so much and are finally granted peace.

9. any talents?

I will take a chance not to self-disparage and say that I think I have many talents, just like everyone else has many talents.

10. where were you born?

The best country in the world (SARCASM) 'Murica.

11. what are your hobbies

I mean...I think most people who follow me on this website know what my current primary hobby is, I have 70+ pieces of evidence on it pinned to my page lol. But otherwise, sword fighting and Dungeons and Dragons, so you know...nerdery.

12. do you have any pets?

None that are actually mine.

13. how tall are you?

About average

14. favorite subject in school?

English, Science, honestly the only class I really hated with any level of passion was pre-calc. Fuck pre-calc.

15. dream job

Used to be physician, but I am so far outside of that field now it's hilarious. I'm young, dumb, and trying to get over burnout so I have not been thinking about my future like that for the last year, and it's been amazing.

tagging some friends I do not plague daily with messages: @solitaryandwandering, @wanderlust-in-my-soul, @negrowhat, @dribs-and-drabbles, @telomeke

[mvrtaiswriting]

Hi! For the kiss event, can we get prompt 4 for either Mihawk or Zoro?

Zoro x prompt 4: speaking normally, then after the kiss their voice is hoarse

of course you can and aaah! thanks for requesting this!!! we all know now that I write better when it comes to emotionally unavailable men and mihawk was the perfect victim hehe. I absolutely adore this piece of writing and hope you will too! do let me know what you think ♡

gender neutral! sfw.

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.- from this event.

Getting Mihawk to open up about anything was probably the hardest challenge you had to endure since you decided to train with him. He was always so avoidant, so detached, so cold. He agreed to let you stay with him cause he recognised your talent and potential, but never complimented you once - not explicitly, at least.

After a year of intensive training, spending hours together, the two of you somehow grew a lot closer than you expected at first. He didn't despise you, and that was a big accomplishment - he kept his stoic attitudes around you, but he was never rude. He did over-exaggerated sometimes during training sessions, teasing you and pushing all of your buttons to exert an emotional response from you; and he always did, he was good at it. Mihawk could see right through you, as if your soul and deepest feelings were an open book to him. He flipped with the pages and rewrote some of them, instilling new fears and gifting new sensations every time.

"These." he said once, catching a teardrop from your eye with the tip of his sword. "these will get you killed." he continued, wiping your tear away and leaving you alone, in the middle of the battle field.

He didn't mean any harm, really - he was only brutal cause he cared, although that definitely wasn't the best way to show it. It was only after you snapped back at him and won against him for the first time, that he finally opened up to you. After that tremendous afternoon, he started to tell you more about him, sometimes narrating some of his adventures, others sharing his political views with you. This was his way to show you that he truly cared; he never let anyone get this close to him.

So now, during one of your usual evening chats, you were sitting next to him on the sofa. He held his wine glass in his hands, sometimes moving it swiftly to get mix his wine and get the best taste out of hit.

"This is definitely the worst generation." he said, keeping his composure.

You nodded in response, as you kept looking at him - he was hypnotising. The way he gesticulated, his controversial yet so interesting takes on everything. Putting your glass on the coffee table in front of you, you leaned back on the sofa and started to listen to him again. Your gaze slowly shifted to his lips, appreciating how his beard gracefully framed his face. Mihawk instinctively stretched an arm toward you to fix a rebellious strand of hair that was now covering your face, never losing focus on what he was saying.

"I think it's time to go to bed." he concluded, causing you to frown. You were exhausted from the earlier training, but you could have stayed there for hours. You nodded, leaning towards him and leaving a soft, uncertain kiss on his lips just before he could say something else.

Mihawk reciprocated your kiss timidly, a brief act of intimacy that lasted just enough before you embarrassedly pulled away.

Visibly blushing, Mihawk cleared his throats trying to act as if nothing happened. "Goodnight, y/n." he said, his voice sounding hoarser and deeper than normal as a new, warm emotion made its way into his heart.

[luvhards]

 application :

✧˚  ༘  ⋆｡˚  well,  well…  it  appears  that  aria  eden-west  will  be  a  part  of  new  york's  social  season  once  more  !  according  to  guildsource,  the  twenty  -  seven  year  old  is  most  known  for  being  an  heir  to  a  jewelry  empire  /  youtube  show  host  &  magazine  editor  ,  and  is  constantly  spotted  hanging  around  the  brew  club  —  seems  as  if  you've  heard  of  them,  too.  they  initially  made  a  splash  on  the  gossip  site  after  falling  down  the  steps  at  the  met  gala  ,  and  they've  been  the  center  of  attention  ever  since.  the  public  tends  to  view  them  as  being  nosey  and  critical,  but  people  close  to  them  say  they're  actually  captivating  and  thoughtful…  i'll  believe  it  when  i  see  it.  they  tend  to  remind  me  of  the  glossy  coat  on  the  pages  of  a  magazine  ,  the  blinding  sparkle  of  a  jewel  when  it  hits  that  perfect  spot  of  sunlight  ,  the  warmth  of  tequila  as  it  slides  down  your  throat  &  the  comfort  of  throwing  on  your  favorite  youtube  video  while  eating  a  meal  .  which  says  the  most  about  them.  i  wonder  if  they'll  be  seen  wearing  their  tiffany  &  co.  elsa  peretti  open  heart  necklace  to  the  social  events  this  year,  but  nevermind  all  that.  the  social  season  is  upon  us,  and  guildsource  is  always  watching.

statistics :

faceclaim  :  dua  lipa  name  :  aria  catherine  eden  -  west  birthday  :  april  eighteenth   birthplace  :  london  ,  england   age  :  twenty  -  seven   occupation  :  magazine  editor  ,  interviewer  &  youtube  show  host   education : bachelor’s in film and media studies from columbia. height  :  five  feet  ,  eight  inches   scent  :  dolce  &  gabanna  light  blue 

family heritage :

aria eden west is the newest carat in her family’s gold lineage, next in line to the throne of her family’s crown jewel , weston co.  founded by catherine west , weston co. was risen from the ground up , determined to give the ‘ every day woman ‘ access to jewelry that was both stylish and durable , allowing them to pay no mind to the usual wear and tear that came with being a twentieth century housewife . j.c penney was the first to invest , lining their accessories sections with their first ( and what would soon become their most famous ) cuff bracelet , an indisputable hit during the holiday season which made penney’s rich and catherine even richer . weston co. only blossomed from there , over the next hundred years she’d break the glass ceiling of the j.c penney’s jewelry section , open her own boutiques , little by little inching closer to the edge of rodeo drive where the weston co. now resides with the rest of the world’s greatest designers . weston co. prides itself on being made for women , by women — though , now it’s certainly popular and amongst anyone who enjoys fine jewelry — so the company now rests in the hands of eleanor eden - west , and eventually , it will become aria’s too .  ( weston co. is equivalent to a brand like cartier or tiffany & co. )

some lore about aria’s signature jewelry : the weston co. ( hehe ) open heart necklace in silver and gold is now an archival piece , released for a limited time in the late mid 2000s as an ode and celebration of the re-marriage of eleanor west and thomas eden .  west women are notorious for wearing almost exclusively gold jewelry , so the heart in gold is meant to represent both aria and her mother while the heart in silver symbolizes thomas , the two welded together in ( almost ) perfect matrimony . along with the necklace , she can almost always be seen wearing a random assortment of rings on her fingers , never so many to the point where it gets cluttered but there’s always at least one on her hands at all times . 

past :

you grow up with the world at your fingertips . everything you want is given to you before you have to so much as ask . it’s the typical life that’s afforded to a child like you , educated in the nation’s best private schools , never without the newest toys or latest book in whatever series you were obsessed with at any given time ( some even before they were released to the public ) . it’s comfortable , you’re comfortable , but why does that make you feel so guilty ?

technically the first “ true “ nepotism baby in your family considering that your mother didn’t get to reap the benefits of weston co.’s success until she was well in her 40s and your father built his entire career from the ground up . not that you’re complaining , people would kill for this life and you know that you’re lucky to live it . you don’t resent it , in fact you cherish it , but you can’t help from asking yourself one thing : what have you done to deserve this ?  a question both you and the tabloids seem to keep asking .

you want more out of life , as grateful as you are for your parent’s support you feel terrible taking it from them — is it true what everyone says ? would you really be nothing without your family name ? going to college feels like the only way to get away from it all , to silence that voice in your head that tells you the only thing you’ll ever have to show for yourself is a company you don’t even really own . you go to columbia , but not without scrutiny . impossible not to overhear the whispers of your peers that swear they have you pieced together , that are completely certain your family’s name ( or perhaps their generous donation ) is the only reason you’ve made it this far . they put a chip on your shoulder , and it’s only up to you to figure out how to get it off . 

you make two friends while you’re in college , it’s all you can really afford as someone who spends as much time in the library as you — one on occasion they quite literally had to drag you out of there kicking and screaming . you spend your first two years completely immersed in your studies , trying to prove to everyone ( read : yourself ) that there’s more to you than what your parents have given you , that you’re smart , independent , worth something on even your own .

it’s not until your senior year that you find the thing that would eventually become your life’s purpose . céline was meant to be nothing more than your final project , a theoretical magazine complete with three articles on art , entertainment and current events that was supposed to be for your professors eyes only . but you’ve never found yourself work so hard at something in your life , not only determined to make your final project your best one yet but actually interested in the process at hand . you found yourself excited to go home to write an research , so many nights spent watching the sun rise while you fooled around indesign tweaking the smallest details until they sat just right on the page . 

you’re not quite ready to own a company yet , the thought of inheriting the one that’s had your name signed on it sign the day you were born still sometimes makes you feel sick , so you’ll have to find another way to turn this into something more sustainable for the person you are right now .

you reach out to a couple of friends who reach out to a couple of friends and before you know it you’re being asked to pitch an idea for a youtube series , one that puts a new edge on the predictable world of celebrity interviews — and thus , pub crawl is born . it’s probably not the best idea , inviting celebrities for a day of recorded and publicized drinking all while asking them questions about their lives and careers , but maybe that’s exactly the point . pub crawl becomes an instant success , rising to viral fame after tom holland came to the show and completely spoiled the upcoming avengers movie after he’d gotten tripped up by one of your tricky questions . 

it’s been a hit ever since , each season only growing bigger and bigger until you find yourself being invited to interview celebrities at the red carpet of some of entertainment’s biggest events . people love you , they find your interviewing insightful yet playful , flirtatious yet elegant , captivating in every way as is obvious by the millions of views garnered by your interviews at the grammy’s , oscars and of course , the met gala .

you get three seasons deep into pub crawl before you realize that though hosting this show makes you happy , it doesn’t make you feel complete . sure , it’s fun picking your guests brains about their most recent projects but it doesn’t feel like enough . you want to talk about what’s really going on in the world , about art , history , fashion , design , and give voice to the people who do it best . so  , céline is pulled back out from the depths of your google drive , an dream you’re now determined to make into a reality especially now that you have all of the resources to do it on your own . for the next year , any time that isn’t spent filming pub crawl is dedicated to turning cèline into the publication it’s meant to be , gathering a team of writers , editors and designers to make certain that it lives up to the potential you’ve always known it had .

it’s been a year since it’s official launch , and while most of the reception has been positive you definitely won’t be winning a pulitzer any time soon . the critics sound like a broken record , dubbing céline as yet another passion project by an out of touch product of nepotism baby funded by money that was never yours in the first place . you’re tired of feeling like you have to prove yourself to people , trying to make them see that your worth is in more than just who you are, but what you can do — so , you stop trying to .