#i think im worrying a bit too much about the idea of flooding tags with sketches when i post like a few times a week at most but like.... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

9tzuyu · 3 years

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the ties that bind us

note: this is just a vent, i’m not sure how much sense it’ll make. but it’s based on this post (just pretend this fic makes sense because it was really just a loose idea that got carried away.)

in other words: you’re talking to natasha without her knowing its you.

im begging you to be nice jsjddjdj this is probably cringey idk. mostly posting this for myself. i hope at least one person likes it though, idk.

i wont tag on this fic simply because its a vent :P dont wanna trigger anyone.

warnings: talks of eating disorders & depression. there’s a minor mention of self harm (brief description of scratching, nothing more).

thank u moli for proofreading i love uuuuu

. . .

natasha romanoff was one of the last avengers people would expect to have social media. everyone knew her to be an insanely private person, so the fact that she managed something so public was a stark contrast to their beliefs.

she didn’t post much, didn’t see much of a point in posting really. sometimes the spy would reply to fans, sometimes like their posts, and other times stalk their pages. that only happened once every few months though as social media was the last thing natasha worried about.

the most recent change in natasha’s life had been a new addition to the avengers.

you.

she hardly ever acknowledged your existence, let alone speak to you. for reasons unknown, natasha wasn’t too keen on getting to know you.

which, in a way, crushed your soul.

you’d looked up to the ex-assassin since before you were recruited. it was amazing to you how someone just a few years older than you could stand so strong, so put together, almost unbreakable.

since day one natasha underestimated your skillset and ability to function as part of the team. after a while, her lack of trust began to irritate you, but you managed to hold on to a sliver of hope that she’d someday let you in her little circle.

for now, as embarrassing as it was, you ran a small twitter account for the redhead. you already had a list of insecurities, it might actually kill you if anyone found out. your paranoia was what made you so protective of everything you did, touched, and left behind.

first thing in the morning you woke up dizzy, heart pounding in your throat, and your stomach hurt from being on over 40 hours of emptiness. then you’d gotten your ass chewed out by fury in front of the entire team for being reckless on a mission. everyone ignored you for a good bit of the day, too overwhelmed with disappointment towards your actions to speak to you.

lunch was an easy slip, but dinner was hard to get out of. you tried to go straight to your room but steve began to interrogate you as to why you weren’t having anything. you could feel natasha’s eyes burning in the back of your head with each question the super-soldier asked. nonetheless, you blamed your lie on a wave of nausea and made your way into your room.

after changing into baggy sweats and a t-shirt you plugged in your phone, ready to be done for the day.

you were half asleep when a blue notification lit across your phone screen.

8:06pm

natasha romanoff: i hate romcoms.

her tweet was very random, but very much natasha – punctual, straight to the point.

replies, likes, retweets and quote tweets quickly began to build upon each other in response to the statement. you fumbled, desperately trying to think of something to reply with.

8:07pm

alianovna: do you like horror movies?

of course you knew this, and you were sure people were flooding her mentions with the very same question, but it was worth a shot.

unexpectedly, natasha replied to you two minutes later.

8:09pm

natasha romanoff: love them.

your mutuals were freaking out, congratulating your notice. you’d be more excited had you not already known natasha and how she acted towards you.

but at least you could still pretend.

your fingers scrambled to type out false reactions. keyboard smashes and unreadable tweets filled your timeline. fifteen or so minutes later and a request notification appeared in your direct messages.

to your utmost surprise, it was natasha. you did a double check, switching between the profile and the message to see if it was really her. and it was. but surely she didn’t dm fans often, that’s not like the redhead at all.

8:24pm

natasha: read through some of your tweets, i’m sorry you’re having a hard time.

you’d completely forgotten about your little rant a few days prior. you didn’t have a lot of followers, so you didn’t think it mattered. just having a place to vent anonymously was more than enough.

natasha’s message had you stuck though. the very same woman who ignored your existence on a daily basis was now reaching out to you – well, a fake version of yourself.

8:25pm

alianovna: it’s alright.

five seconds later three little dots popped up on your screen, causing your eyebrows to pull together in confusion. why was she so quick to reply?

8:25pm

natasha: are you feeling any better?

alianovna: i’m as good as i can be.

8:26pm

alianovna: sorry i don’t mean to be rude, but why are you dming me? i’m sure there are so many other fans who have told you about worse situations.

natasha: call it a gut instinct.

you didn’t reply to her message after that, too unsure of what to say.

the ring of your alarm woke you up early the next morning. it was 4am and you were on a tight schedule. you reluctantly got up, body aching with every movement, and tiptoed into the kitchen.

you were up at an hour where no one else would be awake, which made preparing breakfast a lot less anxiety-ridden.

carefully, you sliced an apple and a few strawberries and placed them into a glass bowl. you were careful not to fill the dish to the top in fear of consuming too much.

unbeknownst to you, natasha watched your movements from afar, eyeing the tiny portions you made for yourself. she also noted the amount of distress you’d been in while you sat down to eat, it wasn’t normal.

the redhead had long since suspected something wrong with your relationship with food for a while now. watching your struggle only confirmed her assumption. a pang of guilt shot through her chest knowing she could’ve been a more supportive teammate. maybe that’s why she randomly decided to direct message a fan, to make up for her lack of encouragement on her behalf.

she left before you could see her.

. . .

the next few weeks were pretty routine. you’d be sent on small missions, come back to train (or in other words burn as many calories as you could), and occasionally hang out with whoever was around the compound.

oh, and natasha? you continued to anonymously text her, finding yourself growing more and more attached to the distant woman.

you’d tell her about how depressed you felt, how much you craved the touch of someone else – even if it was just a hug. when you’d tweet about something bothering you, natasha messaged you as soon as she could. and from what you could tell she hadn’t caught on.

the only thing that changed in the redhead was that she began to watch you more, increasing your discomfort around her.

today had been particularly rough for you, and you weren’t really sure why. no one scolded you for doing anything wrong thing, nor did they overload you with useless paperwork that took you hours to finish.

it was a relatively normal day.

but the frustration of dealing with your disordered thoughts seemed to be a bit higher than usual. you’d already snuck in your day's worth of exercise, and you kept your calorie intake lower than the day before – it just wasn’t enough.

not wanting to anonymously bother natasha, you went to your only other (somewhat) safety option.

10:08pm

alianovna: i wish i didn’t feel so alone.

you only had about 250 followers, so it didn’t really matter that you tweeted such a sad message because you already knew no one would reply. no one wanted to deal with it, mutual or not.

10:08pm

alianovna: the one person i thought i might be able to talk to literally hates me.

you added on to your thread.

alianovna: just having someone’s company would be enough. they wouldn’t even have to say anything. i just need someone. i can’t keep doing this on my own.

alianovna: i’m so sad, my heart hurts.

you slammed your phone against your bed, curling yourself in a ball. tear tracks were evident on your face as you began to think about everything you weren’t.

maybe if you pushed yourself a little harder.

maybe if you spoke a little louder.

maybe if you were an entirely different person – maybe then someone might like you.

your shitty coping mechanisms only reflected how you felt on the inside, not that anyone would ever find out though. you kept your guard as high as you could, which only ever resulted in complete isolation.

a ding came from your phone and you immediately knew who it was.

10:17pm

natasha: hey, what’s going on?

“oh fuck you,” you mumbled, too pissed off about the fact that you’d never really be able to talk to her.

you were angry. angry at the world. angry at natasha. angry at your team. and most importantly, angry at yourself.

10:41pm

natasha: please answer me.

seeing the urgency of her text to an anonymous fan only pushed your state of loneliness further into your mind.

and your lungs.

and your heart.

and oh my god, you couldn’t breathe.

your fingernails began clawing against your collarbones as a desperate attempt to try and ground yourself.

10:51pm

natasha: i hope you’re okay. i’m worried.

but that was just it – natasha didn’t care if you were okay, and she wasn’t actually worried about you.

10:51pm

natasha: it’s easier if you reply to me rather than have me hunt you down.

shit shit shit shit shit.

wincing at your raw, sticky skin, you looked down to find a light amount of blood on your fingernails.

“there goes peaceful showers,” you whispered. “fuck, how do i even reply? i fucking hate you, natasha.”

a lie.

you don’t think you could ever truly hate natasha. she didn’t even do anything wrong. what you hated, was how your expectations were met with resilience and insularity.

nonetheless, you shoved your emotions down once again and began to type.

11:03pm

alianovna: i’m fine. and for the sake of my own privacy don’t look for me. or track me down. or whatever you do as an avenger.

natasha: just please don’t ever do that again. i was so scared you’d done something you’d regret.

natasha: so are you ready to tell me what’s going on?

11:11pm

alianovna: doesn’t matter. goodnight natasha.

throwing on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, you shut your phone completely off and grabbed your keys. you weren’t sure who was up, most likely tony or bruce, but they’d both be distracted by whatever their latest project was.

you were doing fine until you bumped into someone. apologies almost began to slip from your mouth until you realized it was natasha. so instead of saying sorry, you shoved past her without another word.

natasha stood speechless at your behavior. yeah, she wasn’t one to talk to you despite how nice you continued to be, but she knew it wasn’t normal for you to shove her.

then she remembered the state of your wellbeing. your eyes were red and tired underneath, a clear indicator that you’d been crying.

she tried to catch up to you, but by the time she made it out, you were already gone. seeing you so upset didn’t sit right with her at all.

waiting for you was the right thing to do, natasha knew that.

you weren’t really sure where you were going until you pulled into the back of a hotel parking lot. it felt almost impossible to feel more alone than you did right now. you slammed your head against the tip of the steering wheel, not caring whether or not a honk disrupted the silence of those around you.

one thing you were sure of was that you didn’t want to go back to the compound, not right now at least. the urge to text natasha was almost overpowering, but every time you remembered how little she regarded your presence the desire vanished instantly.

too much was already crowding your mind and thinking about natasha only made things worse. so you put your car in reverse and sped off in a hurry.

natasha began to worry more each hour that passed, not only about her friend online, but about you as well. she backtracked your behavior as much as she could.

until something clicked.

she realized just how alike you and her online fan were. it couldn’t have been a coincidence that at the very same time she’d lost contact with her distraught fan, you were upset as well. natasha also remembered how unusually protective you were over your phone, never once letting anyone else lay a finger on it.

you’d even vented to her a bit about your food troubles, but she never thought too much of it because millions of people struggled with eating disorders.

on top of that, she always thought it was a little odd that her ‘fan’ never gave away their name. her assumption was out of privacy, but that obviously wasn’t the case.

and your tweets, specifically the one about someone hating you, there was no doubt that was a jab at her.

it made sense though. it was easier for you to talk to her as long as she didn’t know it was you.

natasha felt awful. you were struggling so openly and yet no one else could see it except for her, and she didn’t say a word about it.

the clock read 2:33am when you came back. it’d been the longest three hours natasha ever had to endure.

you came back to see the redhead sitting on your bed. natasha glanced up from her phone and lunged herself in your direction. she cupped your face, worried eyes scanning over your body for any signs of injury.

“you left…”

“i’m a free person.”

you moved to take off your hoodie, trading it in for a tank top.

“what happened to your collarbones?” your harsh glare met natasha’s green eyes. “that’s none of your concern.”

she swallowed, carefully trying not to startle you. “i think we should talk.”

“and i think you should get out of my room.” you snapped, turning your phone back on after hours of being shut off.

“did you not hear me? get out.” she winced at your tone of voice. “i don’t think you really want that.”

“seriously, get-”

“i know it’s you. alianovna? it’s you isn’t it?”

“if you’re so sure, then why are you asking me?” natasha kept quiet, eyes still firmly trained on you.

you could feel the lump in your throat begin to rise; and although you tried you hide it, your lip began to quiver. “please. please leave. please natasha,” you begged, voice cracking with shame.

“no.” she paused. “that’s not what you truly want.”

“you don’t even fucking care!”

natasha closed her eyes, trying to remain calm and collected. “but i do-”

“no, you don’t. you care about a version of myself that isn’t even fucking real. you don’t care about me. and that’s fine, i’m used to it by now. but don’t come in here to try and save your ass because you have a guilty conscience.”

she crossed her arms. “i’m not leaving this room.”

“well move so i can lay down. i’m tired.”

you weren’t sure why you were pushing natasha so far away when you’d been craving her comfort for months. perhaps it was because your secret had been exposed, maybe even because you felt like it was too good to be true. either way, your emotions were involuntarily controlling your choice of words.

natasha complied, watching you adjust yourself comfortably. she bit her lip, nervous to ask for such a risky request.

“can i hold you?”

touch, warmth, security, that’s all you ever wanted. and natasha knew how much you craved the comfort of someone else. that was her ticket in to make up for all that she ignored.

“i just cursed you out and now you’re asking to hold me?” your voice gave out at the end of your question.

“having someone’s company would be enough. they wouldnt even have to say anything. i just need someone.” she finished reading your tweet, vivid from her memory. “that’s what you said, right? i wasn’t there for you then, so if you’ll let me i’d like to be here for you now.”

“just don’t hog the covers.”

natasha smiled, relieved that you accepted her offer. she draped her left arm over your body while her right arm lay beneath your neck. a moment later she clasped her hand over yours, rubbing her thumb across your knuckles.

“why didn’t you ever give me a chance?” natasha’s finger movement briefly stopped. “i don’t know. i think i just became overwhelmed by the idea of someone else living here. i got so comfortable with how things were that, i dont know- it felt too much.”

natasha unconsciously pulled you in closer and for once, you felt a little less alone. she was warm, and her hold was more than protective.

“it doesn’t make it right, i know that. but i am sorry, and im not here just cause i have a guilty conscience.”

“how did you know it was me? i never let anyone near my phone.” she giggled, not revealing the loose pieces to your mystery. “call it a gut instinct.”

natasha placed her chin in the nape of your neck, closing her eyes as she squeezed you gently.

a hug.

one you’d been wishing for since the day you met her.

“you know all my secrets.”

“i know all your secrets,” she confirmed.

“and you’re not going to leave me alone now, are you?”

“i’m not going to leave you alone.”

“which means i have to get help now, don’t i?”

“which means you have to get help now,” she repeated, holding your hand a little tighter. “but it will be okay.”

but things already felt okay around natasha.

“no. it will be better.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years

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Part Nine. Minecraft Dating 101

warnings: swearing, mostly super freaking fluffy but some oopsies at the end (which is the barely-there angst that i mentioned before!!), pet names?? if that bothers you??? (like...... one or both of them might use baby.........) word count: 5.3k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: HEHEH SORRY ITS SO LONG SORRY hope you guys like it!!!! hope it lives up to your standards of minecraft dates lol also thank you guys all for all your suggestions!!! i loved all of them so much!!!! i would have added every idea except this was already 5k words so its much less “flirting” and more so “oh gosh im so nervous what am i supposed to do” from both of them so hehe i think thats more endearing anyway

**********

The familiar sound of a FaceTime call connecting rang in Y/n's ears and she held her phone up to her face. "Hi, Karl," she sighed.

"Y/N!!" he said with a cackle. "ARE YOU READY FOR YOUR DATE?!"

"Shut up, I'm doing this for you."

"I already gave you the tour though so really you could back out. You're choosing to stay." His voice was teasing and giddy. "Why's that, hmm?"

Heat rose instantly to Y/n's face. "Because I'm a woman of my word?"

"OkaAaAyy," he sang. "Or because you liiiiikeee himmm."

"Shhhut up, Karl. No, I don't."

"Suuuure."

"Is this why you called me?"

He giggled. "Yeah, but—"

Y/n disconnected the call and set her phone down with a small laugh and a shake of her head.

With her stream started and her chat greeted, the donation limit raised to $100 (both because she didn't want to be flooded with questions on the date and because she didn't want people to donate their hard-earned money), Y/n logged onto Dream's SMP and found the voice call Dream was in, George's name right under his.

After she clicked it to join, a small gasp emitted from her headphones before she heard Dream mutter something. "Get out, get out, leave."

George's voice was normal. "But I wanna—"

"GEORGE!" Dream yelled, making Y/n giggle.

"Fine!" George yelled back. "Have fun you two," he sang like Karl did before a sound from Discord told them that he left.

It was silent for a second before, "Hi."

"Hi." She giggled. "What was that about?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just some last minute, uh, setting up."

She hummed, amused at the sound of his frantic voice.

"So, um... are you ready for our date?"

"I don't even know where you are. I'm still in my house."

"Knock, knock," he said with a laugh. Y/n turned to see green peeking through the cutouts on her oak door and she laughed.

She ran to the door and opened it for him, revealing Dream in a slightly altered version of his Minecraft skin. He looked the same, except the white blob appeared to be wearing a necktie of some sort. "You look ridiculous," she admitted with a smile. "Wait, is this a fancy date? Should I change my skin?"

"It's not fancy, I just wanted to look my best for the prettiest girl in the world."

"Ohmygosh," she muttered to herself, hoping that writing off his charming words and actions as annoying would make her face not heat up as much. So far, it hadn't worked. Two minutes in and she was already blushing like a schoolgirl whose crush asked her to play tag at recess. "So, I'm not underdressed?"

"No, you're always perfect."

She didn't comment, opting for an eye-roll instead. Truthfully, she wanted to flirt back with him, try to make his heart beat fast like hers already was, but she was worried her words wouldn't come off joking and that the true intention would be obvious, that he'd be able to breeze right past the jovial tone and hear the sincerity in her words. Wait, true intention? What was her true intention? Her true intention should obviously be to just joke around and have some fun, but deep down she knew the motivation for teasing him came from somewhere different, somewhere more meaningful.

She wanted to tease him because she wanted to be the one to make him blush, to make him trip over his words and not know what to do with his hands.

Why? Well, she was still figuring that out.

"If you're ready, follow me, ma'am."

"Where are you taking me?" she asked as she followed his character down prime path.

"Hmmm..." he mused. "A secret, obviously."

"Obviously," she scoffed. She noticed that he was several blocks ahead of her and she smiled to herself. "Hey, Dream?"

"Hm?" he asked, spinning to face her as he ran backward.

"I don't know how many dates you've been on, but usually people walk together. You know, gives them an excuse to maybe hold hands or at least enjoy each other's company?" She made sure her voice had just the right balance of teasing and seriousness, curious as to how he would respond.

"I, uh... oh."

"Unless you want me to just meet you there. I mean, you're practically running away from me."

"I'm just excited!" he excused, stopping briefly so she could catch up with him.

"But look at how many beautiful things there around us to look at while we get to where we're going!" she told him. "Well, maybe not that," she said with a laugh as she punched her fist towards Tommy's dirt house. "But other things."

Dream laughed and continued to walk next to her like she requested, pausing if he ever got too far ahead. "How can I look at all those when the most beautiful thing is walking right next to me?"

She's never rolled her eyes so hard in her life. "Shut up," she mumbled as she punched him.

"OW! BUG!"

"That was supposed to be a pat on the arm but Minecraft only has one level of hitting and it's a punch. Sorry."

Dream wheezed briefly before containing his laughter. "This way," he instructed, getting off the path and starting into the woods.

"Oh, really you're trying to kill me. That's why you didn't want me to wear anything nice. Didn't want me to ruin any of my fancy stuff."

"Foiled my plans," he joked lightly. "Okay but really, um, I was thinking—well, so you already have a house but I was thinking we could build one together. Or build something, I don't know. But you're really good at building and I know you really enjoy it so I thought maybe you could show—like, teach me and then later I'll teach you something and then we can have a little picnic dinner."

Y/n smiled at her nervousness. "Hey, that actually sounds really fun!"

"What? What do you mean actually?" He laughed. "What, did you expect me to plan something boring?"

She laughed over his dramatic pouting. "No, but I mean, I didn't know what to expect," she said shyly. "I do have to say, though, I'm not sure what you plan on teaching me. I'm pretty much a master at all possible Minecraft skills, so..."

"Oh, really?" he taunted. "Everything?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her confidence wavering at his smooth voice.

"We'll see about that..."

"Unless you mean you're gonna teach me how to code Minecraft. That's a Minecraft skill I will admit I know nothing about."

"No, no, nothing like that," he said with a laugh.

"Good, save the programming talk for later."

"For laaater, hmmm?" he sang flirtatiously.

"Oh my gosh," she said through a laugh. "You would think that's what I meant."

"Hey, you're the one that said you think it's cute when I talk about coding. Maybe you're into that."

"I was saying it's sweet hearing you talk about stuff you like, you nerd. Why did you immediately think—what, is your idea of dirty talk talking about... like... computer viruses?"

"WhAT?"

"Hey girl, lemme clean out your motherboard," she mocked in a deep voice. "You overclock my processor. Lemme program your, uh—uh...hAHA, nevermind, ew, no."

"BUG?! WHAAAT? What is wrong with you?" His gasps for breath between wheezes made her laugh with him. "Don't ever talk like that again, pleASE."

"I won't, I won't, I'm sorry. Oh my gosh."

"Is that your idea of flirting? You are bad!"

"No, no, no!" She laughed. "I was making fun of you. No, I'm actually really good."

She couldn't stop giggling to herself for a few minutes, embarrassed but also proud of the reaction she got from Dream. She loved hearing him laugh as if he would never stop, it made her heart so happy to hear, especially when she was the one who caused it.

Though she feared her horrible pickup lines, if you could even call them that, were already clipped, ready to be used against her for the rest of her life. Worth it. Probably.

They approached a cleared-out area in the woods and Dream stopped and turned to Y/n. "So, we're here. What should we build?"

"Oh, so now I have to plan? Wow, you are so underprepared," she joked.

"What, no! I originally... I wanted to build a, like, a house together because I didn't— I forgot you made your—your house already and—but since you already have one—"

"We can still build a house," she interrupted with a soft voice. Him fumbling over his words was very endearing but also very confusing. How serious was he taking this bit? Or was he... actually nervous? She was actually nervous but she had reasons to be: a huge live audience to entertain and not ignore, and the weird staticky, itchy feeling in her tummy every time Dream spoke to her. Both valid reasons to be nervous. What was his excuse?

"Really? You wanna build a home together?"

Heat rose to her cheeks at his wording and she hummed. "Mhm. You can be my secret lover I hide in my vacation home. Like a second life kinda deal."

He scoffed. "Oh, now I'm just your side piece, Bug?"

"Nah, you're my main bitch, baby. I just wanna hide you away to keep you for myself because I'm selfish."

There was silence on his end for a few moments, making Y/n's face practically catch fire as she thought about her words. Why did she say that?? How can he flirt all the time but as soon as she says something: dead silence.

"Well.... shhhhhit," he finally mumbled definitively.

"You wanted me to flirt with you, Dream. You literally asked me too!" She laughed, trying to cover up her embarrassment. It had been less than 20 minutes and she already made a fool of herself.

"I did, I did, I just—wow. Come on, that was... I didn't expect you to go from never flirting to calling me baby!"

"Too much?" she bit her lip as she waited for him to explain if it was a good or bad thing.

He paused again. "....no."

She laughed loudly, pulling her hoodie collar up to her face in an attempt to rid herself of the giddiness and heat on her face. Like anyone could see anyway.

"So, a house?"

"A house."

"What kind of house do you think we should build together, Dream?"

"Maybe...." he thought as he ran around the area. "Maybe, like, a log cabin? Since we're in a forest. It's fitting..."

"Very true, very true..." she thought. "I was thinking a castle was more suited for you, king, but a cabin works too."

"Bug!" he yelled, laughter bubbling up in his voice. "What is wrong with you?"

"What?" she said defensively, giggling.

"You're a handful today," he groaned under his breath and she smiled. Though his words said one thing, Y/n could tell he was enjoying her energy.

"So, a dinky, old cabin, or what?"

"Whatever you want to build," he sighed.

"You always this agreeable?"

"Only to you."

"Well, I honestly don't have much practice with building cabins and since I want to show off my skills, I mean, that's the whole point of this, right? For me to impress you with my skills?"

Dream laughed so she continued.

"I think we should build a treehouse."

"A treehouse?"

"Mhm. What do you think? I make a pretty bomb treehouse."

"That sounds awesome!" he agreed. "Oh, and it could go from, like, one tree to another and, like, connect with a bridge! Like, the living room on one and the bedroom on another."

"Yeah, exactly! Okay, it's settled."

"What do we need? What do you want me to do?"

"I'm thinking.... we use cobblestone?"

Dead silent. Literally no noise until a few moments later, ".......Bug. This might be a deal-breaker."

"I'm joooking! You think I'd build something out of cobblestone? Who am I, Tommy? No, what's your favorite wood?"

"Dark oak."

"GOOD. Me too. So.... we need dark oak. Or, wait! Okay, hear me out."

"I'm hearing..." Dream prompted as he pressed A and D on his keyboard back and forth, earning a giggle from Y/n. He character was bouncing left and right is excitement.

"Dark oak planks..." she started.

"Mhm."

"Stone bricks..."

"Go on."

"And green wool for accents."

"Well, now you're just pandering."

"No!" she laughed. "Not, like, lime wool. Green wool. It's close to you but not as... obnoxiously blinding."

"I trust your vision. I'll go get materials."

"Perfect, you're the best, Dweam."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled before laughing. "You pick out a tree you think would be best for the main part."

40 minutes later, they were nowhere near being done. Y/n had shown him how to make a good house layout after he placed the floor in the shape of a square. She had yelled at him for it first, of course. They also had the frame of the walls and one bridge but nothing on the other side of said bridge. Not wanting the stream to last six hours since this was only the first part of the date, Y/n made a suggestion.

"What if...."

"What if what?" Dream asked, pausing to look at her character, who had stopped fixing his mistakes. "Did I mess something up?"

"No, I was just thinking. What if we make this the whole house and do a little garden on the other side of the bridge? Or like a little cute thing."

"A little cute thing?" Dream laughed.

"You know, like a thing," she said, knowing she hadn't clarified anything. "I forgot this is only date one, you can't read my mind yet."

"Oh, so there are gonna be future dates? I thought this was just to pay off your debt?"

She paused, playing with her hoodie strings between her left hand. "Well, I guess we'll see."

Dream laughed. "So, what little cute thing did you want to make?"

"We could put a bench facing the sunset and have some potted flowers and hang lanterns and stuff."

"Oh, like a romantic spot?"

"I guess if you wanna think of it like that."

"Sounds cute," he said. "So, we have to change the layout in here then?"

"Nah, I mean, we can just not add a kitchen, we obviously don't need one anyway."

"True. Then all we need is to put our bed down, right?"

"Beds," Y/n corrected.

"Well, when they're together it looks like one big bed."

"Who said we're putting out beds together?"

"Buuuuggg..." he whined. "Come on... lemme put my bed next to yours."

She giggled again. What was with all the giggling, sheesh. "No. There's plenty of space, put it somewhere else." She placed her white bed down in the corner and went across the bridge to bring her idea to life, or, to Minecraft.

It only took about ten minutes and she finished when Dream spoke again. "I think I'm done."

"I am too! Let's take one final look around." She went back inside and immediately noticed his bed right next to hers. She stared at his character and he laughed.

"Whaaat?" he asked shyly and she just sighed, letting it happen. They took a look around and agreed that it was basically the best treehouse in the entire universe, both in Minecraft and real life.

"Bug, you're so good at building," Dream complimented as he ran around the house. "What's your favorite part?"

"Ummm...." She looked around before deciding on the bridge. "I like how you made the bridge. And I like the little touches you added to it. It's nice."

"Thanks! I think the 'little cute thing' you did is the best part."

"Shut up, I can't stand you," she scoffed. "But thanks."

"Hey, Bug?" Dream asked, leading her back into the house. He faced the two beds placed together and she prepared herself for the worst joke of all time. "Is this where all the programming talk happens?"

"I knew it! I knew you were gonna say that! Shut up!" She punched Dream as he laughed loudly and she couldn't stop smiling. "You're such a nerd. You're so annoying."

"OH! I have an idea, wait here."

***

It had been a solid eight and a half minutes of Y/n waiting for Dream and he showed no signs of returning. He was silent too, so she resorted to saying random things to get him to crack.

"When will my husband return from war?" she joked, her voice laced with sadness and longing.

There was a small suppressed laugh from his mic, but still no words.

"Sometimes I think I can still hear him laughing at me."

He must have gotten reeeaaalll close to his mic, because his next words, the first ones he had spoken in almost ten minutes, were whispered but she felt like he was in her ear. "I'll be home soon, baby."

Once again, she was so glad her chat couldn't see her because she literally shivered and her face was so warm she felt like she was glowing.

For the first time all stream, her eyes betrayed her and she looked at her chat as she pulled her hoodie collar up to her face.

user18: BUGSY BEIN REEEAL QUIET

user4: i think i just passed out

user11: wHAT ON EARTH DREAM ADKXKH

user7: BUGSY ON GOD BE REAL WITH US WTF IS GOING ON RN

user2: hey bestie i cant do this rn

user9: they can't talk to each other like that and say they're just friends pleASE

Also for the first time all stream, someone dared to donate at her limit (which, again, was ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS).

karakatara donated $100 I had to donate bc I just HAD to tell you how cute you and dream are! honestly my favorite couple ever and I was just wondering how long you've been dating??? love you and your videos!!!!!

It was $100. She had to answer it. Meaning, she had to use words after Dream said that like that and she wasn't sure that was physically possible right now.

"Aren't you going to answer?" Dream taunted.

"Wha—what, are you—you stream watching, you weirdo?" she forced out. "Why?"

"I wanted to read your chat, they're really funny."

"I haven't been reading it."

"What, why? They've been so funny this whole time."

"I've been too scared to."

"Too scared? Of what?"

Of the jokes that she wanted to be real? Of seeing something so cute only to break her heart when she remembers it's all a joke? Of seeing someone hate her for being so close to Dream? Many things.

"Of seeing something... that boosts your ego."

"What? Oh, come on. Hey, answer the dono. Someone gave you their hard earned money for that."

"Yeah, wait, chat, I had the limit that high so you DON'T donate! Why on earth would you—"

"You're avoiding the question."

"We aren't actually dating! Not actually a couple!" she said with a laugh, though something in her heart was very much against laughing at that fact. "Obviously not."

"Well, it's only the first date, so, we'll see I guess, but..."

"I cannot stand you. Thank you so much for the dono, though, Karakatara. You're insane for... yeah. Thank you so much." She turned her attention back to Dream. "Actually though are you ever coming back?"

"Yeah, what, I'm almost there. I see the you staring out the window. ."

When he got inside, he dropped a blue cornflower for Y/n and stepped back. "Okay, now, give that to me."

She followed, not understanding. "For you, Dream." She dropped the flower.

"Aw, Bug! That's so kind! Aw! Thank you! Here's a flower for you, too!" He dropped her a red poppy and then put two item frames on the wall above their beds. He put the blue cornflower above his bed and she followed by putting the red one above hers. "Now that's my favorite part of the house."

"You didn't want to use the real ones? What, did you lose my flower or something?"

"Hell no!" he defended loudly. "No, I just don't want someone to steal that one. It's in my enderchest for safe-keeping."

He said it so casually like it was no big deal, but her heart soared. She too had his flower in her enderchest.

"This," she said dramatically with a sigh, "is now a treehome."

***

"I already told you I'm the best PVP player out there."

"Bug, honey, I've seen you play Bedwars. You're trash."

"Hey!" Hehe, honey. Shut up brain.

"But that's okay! I'm here to teach you."

Y/n's character stood across a makeshift battlefield from Dream's, an axe in hand and armor that was definitely donated by DreamXD on her body. "This is kinda sexist of you. Assuming I know how to name a cute house but not fight."

"Oh no, that's not—crap. Bug, I'm only basing this off of your streams, which I watch all the time—"

Once again, he said something so casual and yet it still made her heart skip three beats and once again, she grabbed the collar of her hoodie and pulled it up to hide her face. This thing had to be stretched by now from how often it was yanked on in this stream alone.

"—and don't get me wrong, you're great! But you're also good at a lot of stuff and—"

"Dream!" she giggled out. "I'm teasing. I admit you're much better than me."

"I wouldn't say much better but... it's the only thing I could possibly teach you anything about because you're just so good at Minecraft." His tone was sarcastic at this point but she knew he was meaning what he said.

"Whatever. Come on, Dream, show me how it's done."

He actually had a lot of very useful tips that Y/n otherwise would have never thought about. I guess when you tryhard Minecraft, she thought, you learn a thing or two about pvp. It was a complete joke, but she still kept it to herself.

"I could basically beat anyone now," she said confidently.

"Yeah, basically. Except maybe Technoblade."

"Nah, even him."

"Let's see how good you really are. To the death."

"What?" She laughed. "You're gonna try to kill me on our date?"

"Yeah, scared?" Seconds later, a creeper exploded near Dream and he screeched, jumping back. Y/n lost it. She laughed loudly, clutching her stomach.

"Dr-Dream!" She laughed. "What the hell was that?"

"It scared me!" he argued. "Here, I'll protect you," he offered, running past her and killing a skeleton that was shooting towards her.

"I don't need protecting, especially from you! Besides, if you're trying to kill me, you'd let the mobs get me."

"No," he decided. "No one's allowed to kill my Bug."

She was literally going to explode. "Wh—"

"Only I get to."

"Dream!" she scoffed, running to kill the skeleton first. She succeeded and he pouted.

"Hey—I did more damage than you, you just had the final hit."

"Really? Cause to me it looks like I'm your knight in shining armor."

"Nuh-uh," he spat.

"Dream. F5 right now, you're covered in arrows."

There was a pause. "Oh whatever." He hit her once and that's all it took for them to start fighting, throwing jokes and taunts at each other the whole time, eventually resulting in a satisfying win for her.

Dream was slain by Bugsy

"WHAT?! HOW?"

<Tubbo> i thogt you were on a date <Ranboo> well definitley not anymore <Ranboo> is that canon <JackManifoldTV> WOMEN

"What was that about you being better than me?" Y/n teased.

"Oh, come ON! I still had damage from the skeleton, and besides, I taught you everything you know!"

"That just makes you a very good teacher, Dream," she said sincerely and he paused, probably expecting her to insult him instead of compliment him.

"Yeah, suck up now that you've murdered me."

***

They were finally at their final stop, three hours into the stream. Not too bad on time, though this was probably the longest Minecraft date in the history of Minecraft dates. Also the best, but maybe Y/n was biased.

There was a huge tree, obviously built instead of naturally generated, with lanterns hanging down and lighting areas of the dark world around them. Under that was a checkered pattern of carpet, a single chest in the center with a potted plant sitting next to it.

"The carpet is supposed to look like a, uh, what's it called... picnic blanket?" Dream explained as they approached the scene, clearly not happy with how it turned out. "It looks weird. Nothing compared to the treehouse you built."

"We built," she corrected. "And this looks awesome, Dream," Y/n complimented. "It's is also my favorite colors."

"Yeah, I had some help from Karl on that one."

She leaned back in her chair in real life and pressed her hands to her face. Oh, it was so unfair how cute he was when he was shy like this. She glanced at chat, which only made her face go from the temperature of molten lava to basically the sun. She was going to explode.

She hummed, a little giggle coming out as well. "That's cute."

She sat (crouched) on the picnic blanket (piece of carpet) while Dream put a disc in the jukebox off to the side.

"Is that a Tommy disc?" she giggled and Dream laughed.

"No, no, no, don't worry. There shouldn't be any continuations of wars interrupting our date."

"Shouldn't be," she emphasized, noticing someone approaching them from the distance.

Dream was about to speak when Quackity reached them and quickly joined the voice channel.

"Oh no," Dream sighed. "We've come so far."

"AYYEEE WHAT'S GOING ON, MAN?!" Quackity yelled in his Mexican Dream voice, his voice bubbling with laughter. "IS THIS A DATE OR SOMETHING, MAN?"

"Quackity, go AWAY!" Dream ordered, punching the character who had stripped to his underwear. "YOU'RE INDECENT! THERE IS A LADY HERE!"

Y/n laughed, enjoying the scene of fancy Dream hitting naked Quackity away from their picnic dinner.

"I'm your waiter, I'm your waiter!" Quackity said in his normal voice, still laughing. "DREAM! WILL YOU STO— QUIT HITTING ME!"

This had turned chaotic very quickly.

"We don't need a waiter," Dream informed him.

"Then I'm the singing gram you ordered." He started singing a song and Dream groaned. "HEY THERE DELILAH WHAT'S IT LIKE IN NEW YORK CITY—"

"No! You're being a clout chaser, go away!"

"I'm honestly impressed we made it this far without anyone coming into the voice channel," Y/n admitted.

"I paid them," Dream joked.

"You did not!" Karl's voice suddenly came through and Y/n laughed. "We were all just being polite and staying away but we're getting bored! We've been so patient!"

"Yeah, hurry up! We wanna play!!!" Sapnap whined. "Dream, it's not fair for you to steal Bugsy from us for so long."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed with a laugh as Dream laughed along.

"Just ten minutes! Ten more minutes!" Dream bargained but none of them would have it. "Just so I can say goodbye!"

"No!" George insisted. "Right now!"

"Look, wait, wait, hold on—"

"—hold ON!" Dream begged, watching as the three boys ran and joined Quackity by the picnic blanket.

Y/n could not stop laughing at all the avatars around them. The date had been so peaceful and cute but all good things must come to a chaotic end.

"Wait, come on, Karl, Karl, Karl," Dream said quickly. "Come here. Bug, just a sec, please. Stay right there."

"Okay," she agreed, curious to see his plan.

Karl followed him and of course Sapnap couldn't help but also join them.

"Okay," Dream whispered loudly, clearly wanting everyone to hear his offer. He crouched and the other two copied. "Just give me ten minutes—"

"Ten?" Sapnap asked loudly.

"Shhh!!! Yes, ten minutes, to say goodbye and, you know, end the date."

There was a long, thick pause. "What exactly are your intentions with Bugsy Games," Karl asked seriously, matching Dream's whisper.

"Well, I wanna make sure she gets home safe, you know, so I'm gonna drop her off and, I don't know, see if maybe.... maybe she'll give me a hug?"

Karl and Sapnap both gasped dramatically and Y/n giggled, sparing a glance at her chat who were all freaking out.

"What the hell?" Quackity said while laughing. He and George were still standing near Y/n so they were just watching the goons with her.

"Bugsy is not that kind of girl!" Sapnap protested. "You think she's just gonna give you a hug?"

"Sapnap! Do you not know how to whisper???"

George let a loud laugh slip before slapping his hand over his mouth, which his mic picked up.

"Okay, Dream, wait, so you're gonna try to... hug her?" Karl clarified. "She won't even let me hug her. Good luck."

"Well, I'm not going to force her into anything but, I don't know, she said something about holding my hand earlier so I just thought maybe there's a possibility—"

"WHAT?" Karl yelled before going back to the whisper. "Okay, okay, don't panic, but that's huge. Dadnap, a word?"

He and Sapnap broke off from Dream and formed their own huddle, except their whispers were incoherent mumblings that weren't even English.

"Oh my gosh," Y/n groaned loudly, an unmistakable laugh behind her words.

"Okay," Sapnap said, rejoining Dream. "We'll give you five minutes but if you take any longer, we're barging in and killing you."

"Yes, sir!" Dream said. "Thank you, sirs."

"Mhm. Okay, break!"

They all uncrouched in sync before Dream ran back to Y/n.

"How did it go?" she asked as if she didn't hear the entire conversation.

"Bad news," he started. "Your dad's want you home."

"Shame, I was quite enjoying my time."

Dream slowly turned towards the boys as if to glare at them for ending the date before turning back to her. "Then, maybe, I don't know, we could do this again sometime?"

"I.... think I'd like that," she said slowly, trying to tease him.

He giggled and told her he was going to drop her off at her house, even though when the date was over, they were all probably gonna mess around together anyway so there was no point in them leaving the group. But it was the thought that counted.

He ended up taking her back to the treehouse, which warmed her heart. She also noticed when they faced each other at front of the door, she could see the four other boys watching them.

"Goodnight, my sweet Bug," he said poshly.

"Goodnight, Dream." He turned away but she stopped him. "Wait!" She moved to his side and made a loud, MUAH, sound before stepping back in front of him. "A kiss on the cheek," she clarified, not wanting him to think she gave him a real kiss.

"Cute," he said under his breath, almost like he didn't mean to say it out loud. "Night night." He turned away and ran down to the others, screaming the whole way. "GUYS, DID YOU SEE THAT? BUG GAVE ME A KISS ON THE CHEEK!! OMG DID YOU SEE, DID YOU SEE?"

Chat was gonna have a field day with that. Actually, with a lot of things that had happened. Oh, she could see the clips and edits now.... oh boy.

**********

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#rpf #real person fiction #dream x reader #mcty x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt x y/n #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #smau #social media fic #dream social media fic

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seiijohhh · 3 years

Text

the slow demise [2/?]

summary: He’d found you coated in blood, surrounded by death, and decided then and there, you were perfect. pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!gojo!reader a/n: this has been reposted from my original account @justauthoring - so, if you recognize it, that’s why. im also tagging those who originally requested to be tagged in it, so they know where to find future parts. tags: @thatprofessionalfangirl - @sugarandsoft - @honeyy-honeyy-sweets - @strawberryflavoredjeans - @flowersbloominthedark - @juliajempire - @princess-bumblebee - @sageandberries-png - @yue-caelum - @a–nonymousse - @aryksworld - @godsentkita - @kat-su-ki

part one - part two - part three - part four

“How is there only four first years? Isn’t that too few?”

“Well, have you ever met anyone who can see curses before?”

Pausing in thought, the tip of Itadori’s popsicle remains in his mouth, before he tips it towards Fushiguro; “nope.”

“That just proves how small a minority jujutsu sorcerers are.”

Leaning against the railing beside Itadori, you glance away from him and Megumi, taking a moment to gather your surroundings. Gojo has left waiting here for quite a while, and honestly, you were getting bored.

“Also,” Itadori speaks up, pulling your attention back on him. “Didn’t you say I was the fourth?”

“Their entry was decided a while ago.” Fushiguro explains, nonchalant as ever, “you know what our school is like. Everyone has unique circumstances.”

Leaning towards Itadori with a mischievous grin, you hold your hand up to give the impression of telling a secret but don’t bother to lower your voice. “They were trying to find a replacement for me,” you grin, bright eyed at the dull look Fushiguro sends you.

“You were the one who said you’d never been apart of our school in the first place,” he quirks a brow, “how could we replace you, then?”

Blinking at his quip, you’re mainly surprised he’s able to come up with one.

“Moo,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “No fun.”

“Sorry for the wait.”

Blinking at the new voice, your straighten out at the sight of Gojo waving at the three of you. He makes his way steadily over, before pausing, head tilting in curiosity, lips parting; “oh? Your uniforms made it in time, I see.” Then, his eyes drift to you, meeting your gaze. “Though, I’ve had yours waiting in my closet for a while.”

Glancing down at your uniform, you pull at the jacket, eyeing it curiously. The outfit was the same colour as Gojo’s and Fushiguro’s, as expected, a deep, dark purple. Yours was slightly different then your male counterparts however, and you’d found a pair of tight fitting dress pants, a white button up, and a cropped jacket with a high collar at your door this morning.

“Yeah,” Itadori grins, sending him a thumbs up. “It’s a perfect fit. Though it’s slightly different from Fushiguro’s,” he pulls at the material, “it has a hood, for one.”

“That’s because the uniforms can be customized upon request.”

“Huh? But I never put in any requests.”

With a sigh, you cross your arms over your chest, nudging Itadori lightly; “that’s because he did.” And when he turns to look at you, you shrug. “I didn’t put in a request for mine either. Though, I’m pleasantly surprised that mine came with pants.”

Utterly and entirely too proud of himself, Gojo grins at you brightly, sending you a thumbs up; “I thought you’d appreciate not having a skirt.”

And honestly, you can’t argue with that.

“Whatever, I guess,” Itadori shrugs.

“Be careful,” Fushiguro calls out, “Gojo-sensei has a tendency to do things like that.”

“More importantly,” you speak up, raising your head as you poke your head out. “Why are we meeting up in Harajuku?” Just as you finish speaking, Itadori moves to a stand beside you, pulling your eyes on him briefly before blinking back over at Gojo.

“Because it’s what she asked for.”

“Hey!” Jumping at the sudden pike of excitement in Itadori’s voice, you turn to him as he grins excitedly at you. “Popcorn! I want some!” Without any real warning, he grabs you by the wrist, grip gentle but firm, and pulls you along, whilst you stutter in surprise.

“H-Hey! I never said I wanted some–!”

–

“Um… P-Pardon me?”

It takes you half a second to realize that the older man stood in front of you, is talking to you. His lips are curved into a hopeful, somewhat hesitant smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he regards you. “Are you on the clock right now?”

Your lips part, surprised flooding your features. You take a glance back at Itadori, Fushiguro and embarrassingly enough, Gojo, stood a little ways back from you as they watch on with varying expressions of interests. Itadori just looks curious, maybe even a little lost (and honestly, it’s a little endearing), Fushiguro seems rather annoyed and Gojo? Well, you have no idea.

Despite knowing the man for so many years now, you still can’t really gauge what half of his mischievous looks are about.

“Uh, no, I’m not,” you answer, turning back to the man, before raising your hand with a soft shake of your head. “But I’m not–”

“You see,” he cuts in, plainly ignoring what you’d had to say. So much for being hesitant. “I’m looking for potential models.” You take a quick glance at yourself – what about you currently screams model right now? “This is who I am,” he continues, thrusting a card in your face. “Would you be interested?”

You miss the pair of keen and careful eyes that watch you.

“Sorry,” you bow gently, feeling suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. “I’m not really interested–”

“Oh! Just hear me out–!”

“Hey, you.”

A new voice calls, and your eyes land on a hand that’s latched itself to the man’s shoulders before glancing upwards. You’re surprised to see a girl, your age, in a similar school uniform to your own, instead hers consists of a pencil skirt.

The man turns to her with a startle.

“What about me?”

You blink at her boldness, unable to stop the grin that grows on your face.

“For the modeling gig, dug,” she continues, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m asking what you think about me.”

“Oh, um! I’m in a hurry at the moment!” He offers a small smile, a nod your way, before moving to walk off.

She doesn’t let him off that easily.

Tugging him back by the collar of his jacket, she growls; “don’t run from me! Come out and say it!”

“Please, I’m sorry!”

“Um,” stepping forward, you try to placate the girl in letting the man go, offering a nervous smile. “Maybe you should–”

“Hey!”

Sighing in relief at Gojo’s voice, you move to rush over to him and the boys, falling next to Itadori, and spinning to face the girl with a grin.

“Okay, once again.”

Gojo gestures to the new student, and with ease, she moves to introduce herself. “Kugisaki Nobara,” she introduces herself, hand on her hip. “Be happy, boys. There’s now two girls in your group.”

Head tilting, you let out a laugh at the expressions on Itadori’s and Fushiguro’s faces.

A moment of silence passes, Nobara simply just stares at the three of you, though you notice her eyes are solely on Itadori and Fushiguro.

“I’m Itadori Yuji,” Itadori grins, leaning forward as he gestures to himself. “I’m from Sendai.”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

She stares. Then, huffing: “I always get stuck with unfortunate circumstances.”

“She took one look and sighed,” Itadori deadpans.

“Well,” moving so you’re slightly in front of Itadori, you grin brightly at Nobara. You don’t have many friends, and even less of them are female, so you’re hoping that she won’t have the same reaction towards you. Especially with what happened earlier. “I’m Y/N Gojo, yes, as in Gojo-sensei,” you thumb at Gojo, “but we’re not related by blood, I only took his name–”

“–Hey, how come you didn’t tell me that right away!”

Sticking your hand out, you meet her eyes; “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She stares, and you feel your chest tighten in worry. But then, her eyes are brightening and the brightest (and maybe only) smile you’ve seen on the girl since meeting her curls onto her lips as she eagerly takes your hand. “I’m relieved to not be the only girl!”

And it’s like a weight of your shoulder.

“Hey!” Itadori calls, pouting, “how come you don’t like me!”

“Are we going somewhere?” Fushiguro cuts in, clearly tired of the conversation.

Gojo lets out a mischievous laugh; “we do have all four of you together.” He nods to himself. “Not to mention, two of you are from the countryside. So, of course we’re going on a tour of Tokyo!”

Almost immediately, as if on cue, Nobara, Itadori and Gojo all jump together, bright grins and sparkling eyes as they chant; “Tokyo! Tokyo! Tokyo!” Before, Nobara and Itadori move to stand beside each other, hands clasped with sparkling delight. “We love Tokyo.”

Shoving your hands into your pockets, you watch on with a tilt of your head.

“TDL!” Nobara cries, Itadori latching onto Gojo; “I want to go to TDL!”

“Idiot!” Itadori turns to her, “TDL’s in Chiba! Let’s go to Chinatown, Sensei!”

“Chinatown’s in Yokohama!”

“Yokohama’s part of Tokyo! Don’t you know that? Look at a map!”

Nudging Fushiguro lightly, you turn to whisper to him; “he’s not taking them on a tour, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Fushiguro nods, watching the two with disdain on his face. “Without a doubt.”

“I will now announce our destination,” Gojo calls, silencing Itadori and Nobara almost instantly.

“Roppongi!”

Turning to each other, you swear you actually see stars in their eyes; “Roppongi?!”

“I almost feel bad,” you mumble, unable to tear your eyes away.

“Don’t,” Fushiguro mumbles, “they’re idiots.”

Staring you at the building that looks quite frankly haunted, you bite your lips.

“There’s a curse here.”

“You liar!”

“You were toying with us country folk!”

With an everlasting grin on his face, Gojo adds; “there’s a bit cemetery nearby. The double whammy of that and an abandoned building brought out a curse.”

With a pat on the back of sympathy for Nobara, who continues to grovel in disappointment, clearly pissed off, you listen in as Itadori speaks up – surprisingly, he doesn’t seem all that upset about the whole lying thing anymore.

“So they really do pop up more often around graves?”

“The issues isn’t the cemetery itself,” Fushiguro explains, “it’s the fact that people associate cemeteries with fear.”

“Oh,” his eyes brighten in understanding. “It was the same for schools, too, wasn’t it?”

“Hold up!” Nobara calls, finally straightening out, “he didn’t even know that yet?”

Scratching at your chin, you let out a nervous laugh; “well…”

“He swallowed a special-grade cursed object?!” She all but screeches as you explain, instantly creating a distance between her and Itadori, disgust clear on her facial expression. “Gross! Unbelievable! That’s so unsanitary and disgusting! No way, no way, no way!”

“What?”

“I agree with her.” Fushiguro cuts in.

“Y/L/N!”

You bite your lips as his eyes fall on you, clasping your hands behind your back while you rock on the heels of your feet nervously. “Um…” You start, voice drifting, “it was kinda disgusting.”

“What?!”

“I want to know what all of you are capable of,” Gojo cuts in, hands in his pockets as he regards the abandoned building. “Just think of this as a field test. Nobara, Yuji, you two go exorcise the curse inside that building.”

Brows furrowing, you turn to Gojo. Why was he..?

“Huh?” Itadori mumbles, “but I thought only curses could exorcise curses, right? I can’t use any jujutsu yet.”

Gojo turns to Itadori; “you’re basically half a curse already,” he reminds. “There’s cursed energy flowing throughout your body. Though controlling that energy isn’t something you can learn overnight, so use this.” Your eyes widen at the familiar looking weapon, if you remembered correctly that belonged to a second year. “It’s the cursed tool, Slaughter Demon. It’s a weapon imbued with cursed energy. It’ll work on curses, too.”

Pulling the cover off the weapon, Itadori eyes it gleaning eyes.

“Lame,” Nobara scoffs, pulling your attention on her as she moves towards the building, pulling a pouncing around the belt hoops of her skirt.

Itadori moves to follow her.

“Oh, one more thing,” Gojo calls, “don’t let Sukuna out. If you use him, you’ll get rid of all the curses nearby in a flash, but you’ll also drag everyone around into it.”

“Got it!” Itadori grins, sending Gojo a thumbs up, “I won’t let Sukuna out.”

“Hurry up now!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Go on, now!”

“Man, I finally join the school like you’ve always wanted me to, and you kick me out of my first official mission.”

Letting out a laugh, Gojo sits down beside Fushiguro as you frown down at him. Leaning back, he glances up at you; “sorry,” he grins.

“I still think I should go, though,” you mumble, glancing back in the direction of the building, eyeing it with worry. Biting your lip, you frown; “I mean, Itadori’s still new and everything. And Nobara’s never been in the city…”

There’s an echo of silence, before Fushiguro adds; “I think I’ll go too.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Gojo calls, “either of you. You’re still recovering.”

Huffing, you nudge Fushiguro’s foot lightly, signaling him to scoot over which he does without complain. Falling into seat beside him, your shoulder lightly touches his own, an action that completely misses you, but Fushiguro however does not. And fighting back the faint blush that threatens to grow on his cheeks, Fushiguro distracts himself by turning back to Gojo.

“Y/N’s right,” he mumbles, “someone should keep an eye on them, especially Itadori.”

“True,” Gojo nods, “but the one we’re testing this time is Nobara.”

Complying, you let out a sigh, leaning back on the palms of your hands, tilting your head up to glance at the curse practically oozing from the building.

As you do, you miss the way Fushiguro keeps eyeing you.

“That Yuji…he’s missing a few up here,” he taps his head for emphasis. “He has no hesitation when it comes to killing these things that take the form of living creatures, albeit bizarre-looking ones, to try to kill him. And it’s not like he’s been familiar with curses for a long time, like the both of you.”

You glance at Gojo, meeting his already awaiting gaze.

“They won’t leave me alone!”

“Yes, darling, but… but you’re scaring me… you’re scaring us!”

Shaking your head, a wave of heat rolls off of you, almost pulsating, and it causes those around you to flinch in fear, pushing away from you. You don’t understand, no one will listen to you – they don’t understand. They won’t understand…

You’re not trying to scare them.

“Mama, please, just–”

She holds a hand to you, stopping you from approaching – it feels like your heart might just break.

“Papa,” you turn, swiftly, desperately, but he looks at you with those same eyes. Those same fearful, disgusted eyes and you can feel the tears welling, your sight blurring. “P-Please…” You cry.

“You have to stay away, Y/N. It’s not safe for us.”

“I’m not safe!”

The words leave your voice in a screech, and you hate the way everyone backs away. This is your family, your mother and father, and your older brother and they’re all avoiding you because they’re afraid of you. They won’t listen to reason. It’s not your fault, you’re not trying to scare them – you’re scared…

You’re terrified.

But they don’t care.

“They won’t leave me! They just follow me! I’m not… please, listen to me! Mama, papa, onii-chan!”

It’s useless. They won’t listen.

They’re too scared.

You feel your heart swelling, anger flooding your senses, and the only thing in your head is; they need to understand.

In a second there’s screams. Your eyes snap open to find red, just… red. There’s so much of it, the smell of it floods your senses and makes you feel sick. The monsters that haunt your dreams, that never leave you no matter how hard you try to make them, fly past you in blurs; the red coats them.

The screams never leave your mind.

They never will.

And in the sea of red, amidst your own sobbing, you see a glow of white, and it shines so brightly you think;

that must be my saviour.

The one you’ve been waiting for.

“Yo!”

He pulls his blindfold back, and the sea of blue you see is just so beautiful, your young heart soars.

“So little to be covered in so much blood.”

“–This is a boy who used to live a normal high school life.”

Blinking at the sound of Gojo’s voice, you’re pulled from your thoughts with a startle. Ignoring the pang in your chest and the way it sits uncomfortably heavy, you ignore the sidewise glance Fushiguro sends you, placing your focus back on what Gojo has to say.

“You’ve both seen plenty of jujutsu sorcerers, even those with talent, give up in frustration because they couldn’t conquer their fear or disgust, haven’t you?”

You glance at Fushiguro, and the answer is obvious.

“So today I want to confirm how crazy she is.”

“But Kugisaki has experience, right? Little late for that now, isn’t it?”

“Curses are born from human minds,” Gojo reminds, “so their strength and numbers grow in proportion to the population. Meaning…”

“Is Nobara aware that curses in Tokyo are on a different level than those in the countryside,” you finish with a nod, leaning forward to eye Gojo. Honestly, despite being an annoyance most of the time, Gojo was good at bringing the best out of his students – so you shouldn’t be all that surprised by his tendency to search for the best either.

Still, it shocks you.

“And when I say ‘level’, I don’t just mean the amount of cursed energy they have,” Gojo continues, “it’s their cunning. Monsters that have gained wisdom often force cruel choices upon you…–”

“It’s just a kid… right?”

“–with the weight of human lives in the balance.”

Gojo’s words hang in the air, and, with a frown, you glance over at Fushiguro, only for his eyes to already be on your own.

Without having to ask, you already know why.

“Megumi–”

You’re cut off by the sound of glass breaking, your eyes snapping up towards the building, only for your eyes to widen at the sight of a curse.

Fushiguro shifts beside you; “I’ll exorcise it.”

“Hold on.” Gojo halts,

And Fushiguro almost looks appalled, stood, waiting, a second later you feel the same – only for spikes to appear through the curses body, it’s eyes bulging, and in the next second for it to simply dissolve.

“Nice,” Gojo grins, and honestly, you have to agree. That was impressive.

“She’s crazy, all right.”

“I live over there! Thanks again!”

You watch the kid Itadori and Nobara had rescued for a moment longer, even as Fushiguro and Gojo move to walk off. Peeking your head around the corner, a fond, soft smile curls onto your lips at the mother who opens the door. Obviously relieved that he sons okay, she doesn’t waste another second quickly wrapping the small boy up in her arms and practically pulling him off his feet.

You can’t remember the last time you’d felt a mother’s love.

“Y/N?”

Blinking at the sound of Fushiguro’s voice, you turn around, eyes wide at having gotten lost in your own thoughts.

“You coming?” Shoving a hand in his pocket, he tilts his head curiously at you.

“Yup!” You call, popping the ‘p’ as you push back your thoughts. Running to catch up to him, you fall in step with him, bumping his shoulder lightly with a grin to which he turns away, a light dust coating his cheeks, causing you to giggle. He was too easy to tease.

“Good Joseph!” Gojo calls to Itadori and Nobara, who decided to wait on some steps. “We made sure the kid got home.”

Almost instantly, the two stand.

“Now, shall we go grab some food?”

“Steak!” Itadori cries.

“Sushi!” Noabara follows.

With two thumbs up, Gojo grins; “leave it all to me! And, you two?”

You glance over at Fushiguro, rolling your eyes when you notice he’s on his phone, not paying attention. Shrugging, you decide to join in on the fun, pumping your first in the air; “you can’t forget about desert!”

“Of course not!”

“Y/N!” Itadori leans towards you, and you blink at the tears in his eyes.

“You finally understand!” Your eyes widen when Nobara follows him, leaning towards you with an almost proud look.

Tilting your head, your lips part; “huh?”

“Last call, Megumi!”

He continues to ignore Gojo.

“He’s just cranky he didn’t get to do anything today,” you whisper to Itadori and Nobara, giggling when he sends you a glare.

“Well,” Gojo says, voice sickly sweet, “let’s go.” And he simply tugs the three of you along, ignoring Fushiguro, who almost immediately perks up when he notices he’s being left behind.

You let out a laugh as he rushes to join.

“Oh,” Nobara calls, “I forgot about my biggest haul today. You,” she sharply points at Itadori, “go fetch my things.”

“Huh? Why should I do it? I thought we were even.”

“We won thanks to my cursed energy. Got a problem with that?”

“What about my raw strength?”

“Your monstrous power from eating weird shit?”

“It’s not just that,” Itadori cries, “right, Fushiguro, Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” you snort.

He just pouts. “Fushiguro?”

There’s no response.

“Huh? What’s the matter, Fushiguro?”

“Nothing–”

“Y/N said it right,” Gojo laughs, “he’s pouting because he didn’t get to join in.”

Letting out a laugh, you nod; “totally is!”

“Puh, puh,” Nobara giggles, a hand to her mouth, “what a child.”

Megumi lets out a grunt, hiding his face behind his collar as the rest of you collectively let out a laugh. And as you share in the moment, glancing around, you’re starting to forget why you were so adamant on spending life alone.

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

no kisses needed.

JOHNNY ‘COCO’ CRUZ.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @blowmymbackout: reader has a co-worker who just won't take the hint that reader isn't interested and has a bf she tells Coco he picks her up from work confronts the man. Coco is a lil jealous. Co-worker facetimes reader while coco has her in this position (sorry if that didn't make any sense)

❝ words: about 1.2k.

❝ warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, language, voyeurism (????), coco being a little possessive, mention of bodily fluids.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

You weren't expecting Coco to pick you up from work today, but you guess he has just done it to see who's the fucker trying to flirt with his girl. The guy is uglier than the back of a fridge, and he feels some comfort in it. But not enough to calm down his jealousy. He —better than anybody— knows that you don't care about a pretty face, you care about a beautiful heart, tho. His insecurities come afloat on your way back home, worrying you because he's more silent than ever, not even getting a response when you whisper in his ear how much you have missed him today after waking up alone.

Coming into your house with his face down, Coco leaves his kutte and both helmets on the coffee table, a second before falling onto your sofa. A leg over it, the other flexed to the floor. Your boyfriend looks at you, thoughtful and very concentrated on the way you have to remove your jacket and walk towards his position. You know exactly what's on his mind and that touches your soul. His demons eat him alive with no mercy. Kneeling a leg between his —placing your phone close to his black helmet—, you lean down with both hands on his chest for balance, landing your lips onto his left ear.

“Can you do something for me?” You hum with such a sweet tone, caressing his cheek with the tip of your nose. And you hear him swallowing slowly. “Fuck me, Coco. I need you so fuckin' much… You can't imagine… Can you do that for me, ah? Can you fuck me so hard I forgot my name but not who I belong to?”

He utters a feral snarl, noticing then that your right hand has made its way to his dick. You grip it over the rough fabric, swinging it with a tortuous pace, fixing your eyes on his. Coco is about to kiss you when you push him down using your left hand.

“I don't want your kisses now”. You whisper accommodating yourself over the delicious rock under his clothes. “I want your dick. I want you to fuck me till I have to beg you to stop”.

How does he manage to roll you down his body? You don't know. But the fact is that, in less than a second, you're lying on your stomach and your boyfriend is removing your sneakers and your jeans. He can't help but lick his lips keenly as he glances at the small spot darkening your panties, the evidence of how wet you are because of him.

“Fuck, ma'...”

Coco rips off the piece of clothing causing you to gasp, while you take off the shirt covering your torso, only leaving the blue bra you're wearing beneath it. He undoes it to throw it to the floor too, sliding an arm under your stomach to make you raise your ass. With his free hand, your boyfriend pulls down his jeans and boxers enough to let his hard cock spring free. He doesn't prepare you. Coco guides his glans to your folds to slam his thick length into your soaked cunt. You moan loud and clear his full name, as he settles his body between your spread legs.

Digging his fingers in your hips, aware that he probably will leave some marks there, he doesn't show any mercy. He hits your guts and your soul once and once with an insane pace that causes you to roll your eyes, nailing your hands on the armrest to find some equilibrium and receive every pound straight to your g-spot without falling over it. Coco is fucking you as hard as you have asked him, blanking your mind and making a mess of your vocals.

And he doesn't stop when your phone starts to ring. The name of your co-worker appearing on the screen. Your boyfriend has the brilliant idea of pulling your hair back by tangling his digits there, bringing his lips to your ear. His other hand grabs your device to put it at the height of your faces, sliding his thumb to answer the video call.

The first thing your partner can see is the pleasure gesture on yours, moaning and screaming Coco's name, not having noticed yet what he is doing until you hear your co-worker calling you.

“Tell him how good I fuck you, ma'”. Your boyfriend demands with such a throaty growl, thrusting his thick and hard length into you, impaling your body against the sofa.

“Shit…” You almost cry. “He fucks me so damn good”.

“That's it… Tell him… Tell him who you belong to”.

You know that he's enjoying it, but you can't answer when your partner hangs up the call. Coco can't help but laugh, tosing your phone to the table, to occupy his hand in a better place. Wrapping it around your throat, your boyfriend forces you to kneel on the cushions, sticking his chest to your back.

“Bet he won't forget”. He grunts into your ear, tilting your head to tuck his tongue within your mouth.

He drinks your pleas, your begs, your gaps, placing your fingers around his wrists, aware that you're not going to last much more because of what has just happened. And he feels it. He feels how your whole anatomy gets tensed with every push to your guts, creating an erotic melody of flesh against flesh. Pulling you down again and gripping your hips, Coco increases the pace of his lungs, giving you more pleasure than you can bear with, still enraged because of that shithead thinking he could have some kind of opportunity with you. You are his. Like your heart, your soul, your thoughts.

“Ah, fuck, baby”. You paint roaring, biting your lips until the metallic taste of blood floods your mouth.

The tickles in your lower belly grow by leaps and bounds, making your heart stop for a brief instant before the orgasm blows out all your senses and the electrical lash roams your back. It takes Coco only two slams more into your soaked pussy to cum inside you, filling you as much as he can press his body against yours. He doesn't feel jealous, nor angry anymore. He simply is too tired after that rough quickly, marking your skin wherever his teeth have reached it.

Loosening his grip bit by bit to pull his wet dick out from you, your boyfriend holds your phone again to take a picture of his warm seed spilling out from your abused lips. A piece of art under his dark eyes. Lying on your back and placing a smooth kiss on top of your head, he shows you the little mess he has done with a proud smile crossing his exhausted mouth.

“Was tha' what you wanted?”

“Uh-huh”. You whisper resting your cheek over your forearms, turning slightly at him. “Did you have fun, Coquito?”

“I always have fun ruining your sweet tight pussy, ma'. I don' even mind if that cabrón wanna come and look the next time”.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @badame1240 @regalbanshee

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveeee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #johnny coco cruz imagine #johnny coco cruz x reader #coco cruz imagine #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz

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kkusuka · 3 years

Note

If your taking any imagine requests, If you can may I request some headcanons of Katsuki, Izuku, Kirishima and Mirio with a Hispanic/Latina foreign exchange student s/o who has the same as powers El Diablo from “Suicide Squad”? And is for the most part soft, chill, calls them cute Spanish nicknames like “Mi Amor/My love”, “Mi Tesoro/My treasure” or “Corazón/sweetheart” and even makes Mexican food for them to try out but if someone talks shit about them, she gets so mad that she starts speaking and cursing in her native tongue at whoever is shit talking them and is ready to throw hands? (Now I imagine monoma shit talking Katsuki, Izuku and Kirishima and they’re s/o is calling him Spanish profanities and wants to beat his ass, it’s a lot funnier in my head)

I only did three because I think it was getting kind of repetitive, I'm sorry!

a/n: this person and dabi would be a power couple, don't @ me

Katsuki Bakugou

He’s the king of matching your energy.

The first thing I thought of when you said shit-talking was the both of you blowing up on the poor soul who disrespected you.

But other than that, he has no idea what you’re saying when you speak Spanish

He can guess when you’re yelling at someone, angry can only make so many words, but in everyday life; he’s clueless

He’s not going to ask you what anything means, you’ll have to take that upon yourself before he tries to use google translate.

Now, I am a firm believer that he is book smart and not much past that

So when you reveal your quirk, and it’s awfully similar to his-- honestly he was less than happy

His first reaction is to fight you, but his second is to find out what the hell you’re calling him

(again please keep him away from google translate)

And imagine his shock when he finds you you’ve been calling sim sparky this whole time, not happy

He also listens when you talk about your home country, never directly asking questions but he knows more about latin america every day

And im not saying he forced Denki to ask a question for him, but Denki did it

He’s also the classic trying to learn your language and completely messing it up

Like accidentally calling you a rock, or telling you you’re as pretty as a chicken

All that really matters is he’s trying and he likes fighting alongside you.

Izuku Midoriya

He was really nervous to talk to you

An in his defense you did just randomly show up in the middle of the year with a crazy powerful quirk

And that’s how he approached you, something about a quirk analysis

Then you were haiving weekly study sessions and game nights, so he isnt too sure about how that happened

But he isnt angry at it; the exact opposite actually

The first time he heard you speaking spanish was on the phone, and fro then on he’s been trying to learn it so you don't have to translate everything in your head before saying it in japanese.

He was not as good at it as he thought, but you helped him out a bit

Small conversations about everyday life turned into him trying to speak it daily

(he is fairing very well, and is actually a very quick learner)

Since you always been really nice to him and really only got frustrated, never angry, he really didn’t know what to expect

Well he surely didnt expect and angry, streaming girlfriends, the poor league of villains had no idea what was coming

In all honestly, it was kind of cool to see your attitude match your quirk

(and he was super proud that he knew what some of those words meant)

Bby just wants to make you happy

Kirishima Eijiro

I’m gonna say it right now: when he found out you spoke spanish, he called you a spanish nickname first

And with that, the flood gates opened

He’s defiantly interested in you in general

It was kinds crazy to him the you Todoroki and Bakugou could all have such similar quirk but completely different personalities

You were a breath of fresh air compared to the other two

That’s probably why he gravitated towards you so much

You guys have nighs where you just play around with your quirks

Like kirishima trying to cut a whole watermelon with only his hardened fist

Or you trying to boil a pot of water in record time

But the funniest things are when you say things in spanish when you forget the japanese and he has to try and guess what you mean when you point to the counter full of spices

But all in all, he was really sure that you were the calm couple

The one that balances out the other class couples

But then you had a paring session with Bakugou, and he must have said something the ticked you off because now you were in a full screaming match with the blond

And you were saying some crazy stuff

Not that he could really tell though, it was a mix of spanish and japanese, the occasional english word thrown in

And to his shock, you walked back to him like nothing even happen, smile and all

He did ask what some of those words meant but you just laughed and said he never has to worry

tags: @bakugos-cumsock @rinsangel

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku mydoria #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya headcanons #kirishima eijiro headcanons #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #mha #bnha #mha headcanons

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saeyoungchoismaid · 4 years

Text

Brothers’ Reaction to MC getting sick

Genre: fluff Warnings: suggested smut on Satan’s and Asmo’s parts

Lucifer:

bruh

he told you not to go running out in the rain in practically nothing

but did you listen?

of course not

demons don’t get sick like humans do, so when you get sick, he’s at a lost

why is the human body so weak??

you explain to him that it’ll only last a week at most if you do the proper steps to get yourself back to being healthy

he cuddles and kisses you even though you tell him not to because you don’t want to get him sick

he only laughs and explains to you that demons don’t get sick in the same ways that humans do

he literally buries you in blankets and stays with you all day every day until you’re back to perfect health

he’s sure to make you soup and foods that’ll help you stay hydrated and will give you plenty of nutrients

he doesn’t show it but he’s worried and it breaks his heart to see you like this

Mammon:

you’re what now ???

oh! Sick! Yeah. The Great Mammon knows all about that

not

this demon doesn’t know the first thing when it comes to humans being sick

you tell him the basics before he goes to Satan to get more information

normally, he wouldn’t care but he wants his baby to be healthy and happy 🥺🤲

how else is he supposed to survive school, and go shopping, and eat meals with his brothers, and basically everything else that he can do perfectly on his own but doesn’t want to unless you’re there

he gets Beel to help him make soup and other foods that will help you get better

he babies you constantly by getting you everything you need

he makes you stay in his bed so that you ‘don’t miss him all day’ when Lucifer forces him to go to school

gives you kisses basically every five mins and if he isn’t physically there, he’ll text you virtual kisses

when you’re finally better, he’s beyond happy and drags you to go do everything and anything

Levi:

knows a moderate amount of information about human illness

definitely looks up a bunch of stuff to help him out though

he then gets scared seeing how weak the human body is

why does so much stuff come out of you???

after finding out so much horrid information, he’s determined to bring you back to health

he hordes you in his room with him and refuses to leave unless it’s to get something you need

he plays video games with you(unless you just wanna watch) and watches a bunch of tv with you as well

doesn’t let you watch anything sad because he doesn’t need you being any more dehydrated than you already are

he’s relieved when you finally get better, a weight leaving his shoulders

“Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were going to die,” he sighs

you squawk at him as you hit him, screeching at him that you were fine

Satan:

y’all already know that this man knows everything there is to know about the human body

you end up being back to full health in like three days

this man knows what he’s doing

he knows just the right foods to make, knows the exact temperature to make the room that will make you comfortable, and literally everything else

he knows more about the human body than you do

throughout the time that you’re sick though, he gives you the same amount of kisses, hugs, and cuddles that he normally would

if not more

when you try to scold him, he explains to you that it’s completely fine and your human sickness will not effect his demon body

when you’re all good again, he’s proud of himself

you, of course, reward him with a prize of his choosing ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Asmo:

doesn’t really know about human illnesses but knows self care

he pampers you with hot bath/showers and body rubs

he also asks Satan about what’s wrong with you and learns quite a bit

he does his best to make you food that’ll heal you but normally just sticks to soup, veggies, and fruit

he makes you drink lots of water as well

after a couple days, he starts to curse the human body

“Baby, I hate that you’re sick. I’m so horny and you can’t help me at all,” he whines

pout mode: on

does his best not to say or do anything that will turn you on

it helps that you’re groggy and don’t really feel good

he still slips up sometimes though

if you start giving him sly touches and lidded eyes, this man dips

he just leaves and ends up rubbing one out because he can’t get your touches or looks out of his head

when you’re finally better, this man goes round after round until your begging for him to stop with tears flooding down your face

Beel:

has no idea what to do

is quick to ask Satan and learn more about your situation

this baby is so upset that you’re going through this 🥺 pls I’m literally so soft thinking about him rn I-

comes back to you with the biggest pout and the roundest eyes, genuinely so distraught over your condition

you’re quick to reassure him that you’re fine other than a few symptoms and that’ll you be fine in like a week

cue him smiling that cute smile of his 🥺YALL ITS 7 AM IM TOO SOFT

he quickly tells you that you don’t have to worry about a thing

and he stays true to his word

this demon doesn’t let you get out of bed unless it’s to go to the bathroom or to do some stretches

he makes you THE best food you’ve ever had in your entire life

he doesn’t go to school either, scared that something will happen to you while he’s gone 🥺GOD PLS

when you’re back to being healthy, he’s literally so happy

holds you for the longest time before taking you out to do stuff

he makes sure that you get some exercise since you’ve been in bed for a while

Belphie:

is vv confused

definitely has no clue what to do

asks Satan and kind of has an idea now

he has Beel make you healthy, nutritious food

spends all day everyday cuddling you and napping with you

gives you sweet kisses and plays with your hair while you lay in bed curled up together

he also likes bathing and showering with you to help you clean up

doesn’t want you to exert yourself in any shape, way, or form, so you can count on him to be there to do everything for you

let’s you pick whatever movies you want to watch

doesn’t want to start another new show with you but can’t say no to your red nose and pouty lips

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Tag List: @niphredil-14, @gamelovers-posts, @virtualmemmecollector, @collarjessie, @officialdevorak, @fandomsarepainful ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask :)

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trashcatsnark · 3 years

Note

Your recent posts about Cyberpunk are everything to me! It is such a pleasure when I see you answered a new question. I actually keep checking the tag to see if there is something new from you.

So if that is okay with you I would like a ask you one because I would love to have your opinion on the matter. How do you think Johnny pre ending would react to realizing V is developing feelings for him, despite their doomed future (even though everything turns out to be great with V living and Johnny having a body because that is the only canon ending that matters)?

AHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU’RE MAKING ME BLUSH, AHHH IM GLAD YOU’RE ENJOYING THE POSTS (I was a little worried I’ve been flooding tags and annoying people, so that’s really reassuring)

Spoilers as always!

Okay, so I thought about this for a long while and was mostly torn between two camps of thought, because I also think Johnny would be torn between his thoughts. Johnny himself can be very reckless and has thoughts, beliefs, that contradict with his own behavior. He can go from beating V up, to chatting to them in a diner, to trying to use them, to promising to die for them all within the span of a few weeks. He loved Alt but screamed that she was only a fuck to him. He loved Rogue, but cheated on her. Kerry was his best friend, but he was never above mistreating and manipulating him. He claims he wants to change the world to protect the people in it, but often shows no empathy or kindness for those very people. He preaches the value of change but allowed himself to stagnate. He promises to die for V, wants to save them, but when he has control he does stuff that could very well kill them (excessive drugs, alcohol, and the car crash he caused). Combine that with his newly developing desire to change and be a better person; he can be hard to really understand, even to himself.

So, what are these camps of thought for if he realized while still an engram that V unequivocally and unquestionably love him in a romantic way, despite the way he “knows” this will end.

Well, in another time and place, another Johnny. He’d probably use this as an excuse to get V in bed, then discredit their feelings because he can’t handle it then destroy the entire relationship. Because there has always and may always be a part of him that when people get too close, he wants to push them away. Don’t get through the walls, he only wants people to see a certain side and part of him, he can’t let them get too close. So, anytime he realizes someones starting to chip through those walls, he starts throwing the bricks at them. Hell, after clouds, if V states “yeah I get it, that’s how they killed you, I saw your memories” Johnny gets visibly uncomfortable and says “okay.... we’ll get back to that later” The idea that V, a stranger still practically at this time, knows his memories...knows him in this weirdly deep way, makes him so fucking uncomfortable.

Sidenote, kinda: this is something him and V (albeit V is typically less aggressive about it) have in common. Think of how few people know V’s real name or have been granted the right to call them by it. Think of how despite Jackie being their best friend, they still knew so little about him, he still wasn’t allowed to call them by their real name. They’re clearly upset when the doll says their name. Johnny and V are both people who have put wall after wall between themselves and everyone else. And now in a twist of fate, Johnny’s been shot like a cannonball through his own walls and V’s, so there’s now not a single wall between these two strangers and they both hate it until they dont.

Back to the point, there’s a part of Johnny that instinctively wants to seek a way to destroy it, to ruin all that he’s built with V because he’s terrified of crossing that final line, that one last barrier, of truly being who he wants to be and being with V in that way. He’s terrified of what it means, and he’s terrified that he won’t be enough, that he’s too fucked up and broken to deserve it, that there’s still something inside of him that V hasn’t seen and when they do they’ll leave him in the dust. And that aggro, selfish, scared bastard part of him screams at him to never let it get that far; tear it all down so it never happens.

But he is changing and doesn’t want to hurt V. So, he refuses to use them though that little voice tells him to take the most he’s comfortable taking (ie sex) then throw the rest away. He shuts that voice out, refuses to let himself do that to V, he’s done with that. Though a part of him feels guilty to even have that thought, how can he be such a bastard, maybe he’s not changing as much as V gives him credit for...

So, he may pull away (as much as he can) for a bit. Talk to V less, stay in their head more. Not because he necessarily wants to hurt or distance himself, but he needs time to think. He knows he feels the same way, but he’s scared of so many things. Hurting V, them realizing he’s too shitty of a guy to date, what happens after he’s gone? How will they feel, won’t that make it hurt worse?

But, if he loves them, and they love him. And this is all the time they have left, maybe they should just enjoy it.

So, maybe, he thinks, he should ignore it. Pretend he didn’t hear and move on as if nothing has changed. But, maybe, he also thinks he can’t, that he shouldn’t that denying them both something they clearly want will hurt more than losing it in the end.

Johnny has always been big on enjoying the good things while you can, those little moments where even he could find peace and happiness. It was after all something he got upset at Alt for “always gotta ruin it, always gotta shit on the moment dont you?”, even with his date with Rogue, he just wanted a nice night at the movies, a night to pretend all was the way it was before and to ignore reality for a night; but too much had changed.

And a part of him worries that it’s selfish too, he still isn’t quite certain of when he’s being a selfish bastard and when he isn’t. Maybe it’s wrong to want to take that time to just say fuck it; even if he’s gone in the next week, let it be the best week he could ever hope for. Squeeze as much love and time together into whatever they have left.

Ultimately, he realizes that’s what he wants, he wants to just say fuck it and let himself fucking enjoy whatever they can, whether its’ days, weeks, or hell maybe he can even get a full month before he gets wiped. But, what the fuck does V want? He knows what they feel, but not what they wanna do about it, and maybe that’s the more selfish thing...doing all this thinking and figuring without even asking V what they want.

So, he decides to stop spinning his fucking mental wheels and ask them. Tell them, he knows how they feel and if they want he’ll forget he ever found out, this conversation can end here. They can pretend those feelings don’t exist, Move on and continue as they always have; because at the end of this he will be wiped to save them. He will die for them, because he knows the chances of saving them both are slim and none, and slim died a while back. He made his promise and he meant it. He will do them no harm and he will die so they can live the ife they deserve. That is how this ends and it’s the only ending he’ll accept (so he thinks). So, knowing that and knowing what a rat bastard he was, maybe still is, knowing he can’t give much, hell he’s not sure he can give anything; do they still want more, they still want him in that way, do they truly still want to love and be loved by him knowing they’ll have to let him go and that that time ain’t too far off? Cause he knows what he wants.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #johnny silverhand #silverv #thanks so much for the ask and sorry this is probably all over the place and incoherent but so is johnny #this also if of course maybe idealistic as far as him growing and would probably got to be a bit of time into it #because I think it'll take some time but its critical he really does learn that he can't make all the decisions #he can't always be the one setting the tone and deciding what it it's gonna be #a big thing for his development to me is learning to not only respect decisions and choices he may not agree with #and learning to actually communicate like an adult to ask and learn okay what is it that the person i love wants #Anonymous

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hongism · 3 years

Note

Hello again Caly 👋🏻 It's been a while, I'm sorry. I’m the anon that messaged you about asking for advice/your opinion on something related to writing a while ago. 🥺 So basically my question would be: what's your stance on writing fan fiction for real people? Do you think it’s fine or kind of weird and why do you think so?

I’ve also written out my background/thoughts for context. You can totally skip that, I just thought it might make sense to explain where I’m coming from. I’m sorry in advance for the wall of text that will follow. I’m very bad at keeping it short. 😭

So, I used to be a writer. I started out with kpop fan fiction when I was around 14 (I’m 24 now), but I stopped writing for kpop groups when I was around 17. From then on I wrote fan fiction for fictional characters, mostly anime characters, but I stopped sometime last year. I still have a lot of unfinished ideas I want to write, a lot of them include fictional characters, but others include real people, like the Ateez members or another group’s members, and that's the problem. Let me explain a little further: After a very painful breakup in the second half of last year I got back into kpop. More than ever. While I was casually listening to a few groups before, I suddenly started getting into like 10 groups within a really short amount of time (got7, mx, dreamcatcher, everglow, skz, svt, oneus etc. just to name a few). It’s been great so far, because the music and the groups are kind of a safe haven to me (if that makes sense). I mean, Kpop really helps me cope and kind of escape or make reality a little easier, I'm sure there are more people out there who feel the way I do. I wouldn’t say I’m overly obsessed or anything, but Kpop just is my biggest source of comfort right now, so sometimes I wonder "isn’t this a bit much?“. It’s a difficult topic. But anyways, of course one of the groups I got into was Ateez, otherwise I probably wouldn't be here writing this right now. So I listened to fireworks when it came out and I was impressed and instantly fell in love with them. A little while after that, when I still couldn’t match all of their names with their faces, I started browsing the ao3 tag out of curiosity and I stumbled across moc. I absolutey fell in love with the story and every aspect of it. It also inspired me to write myself again! I've had so many old and new ideas flood my mind, but I really haven't gotten around to write anything yet, because the fact that I'd be writing fan fiction for real people as an adult woman makes me feel kind of uneasy? But I don’t want it to make me feel uneasy! You know? I think it should be fine as long as you’re capable of differentiating reality from fiction. And as an adult with common sense you usually can do that, right? But I’ve seen many people, mostly on tumblr and twitter, say that it’s just weird and wrong and that it automatically makes you a delusional and obsessive fan. So now I’m torn between wanting to realize all the ideas I have (Big thanks to you, because you, your blog and moc are a huge inspiration for me 💕 also moc is without a doubt the best fan fiction I’ve ever read. It’s just an absolutely impressive and thrilling story) and feeling like I’m not supposed or allowed to do that? I hope that makes sense. I know there’s a million other things I wanted to tell you, but I think that’s enough for now. If this is a discussion that interests you, I might comeback with my two cents. 😳 Anyways, I hope I was able to convey my inner conflict and my feelings and everything. 🥺 English isn’t my first language so it was a bit difficult to phrase everything in a way that felt right. Thank you so so much for taking the time to read and answer this. I appreciate it A LOT. I hope you have a great week ahead of you! 🥰🥰🥰

hello hun i'm sorry it took me so long to respond to your ask!! i wanted to make sure to set aside some time so i could be as thorough as possible in my response and give you my thoughts as clearly as possible!

so this debate has been something i've dealt with and struggled with a lot over the years of consuming fanfiction and creating it. i started out writing fanfiction of media like anime before getting into kpop, and it took me around 3 years to even start reading kpop fanfiction. every once in a while, the debate of whether or not real person fanfiction is okay or not comes up, and that does always discourage me. i wish i could be like 'yeah im solidly set in this opinion!' but i do still get discouraged myself, and that's something i think a lot of people struggle with! i resonate a lot with how you feel and what your opinions are and how much music and kpop means to you. i also get those worries of 'isn't this a bit much?' and such and it's a difficult thing to talk about and think about, but as you said, i think there is a line when it comes to fanfiction and life and reality

i have no issue with real person fanfiction. i tend to not read or write 'idol' aus because it feels a little too real for my comfort zone, but i will say that the people who dislike it are loud. they're hard to ignore and avoid. you aren't delusional or obsessive for enjoying fanfiction. it's called fan FICTION, meaning it's not real and it should not be meant to be real. it should be fine as long as you're able to draw the line and say 'this is not real and it will never be'. i think it's okay in some instances to be like 'man i wish i could live in this universe' while still realizing it's not real and you're not trying to force it down anyone's throats. that's the biggest thing in my mind. as long as you are not trying to shove it in these idols' faces or psychoanalyze them and their relationships, it's okay.

if someone doesn't like fanfiction, it's easy to just take a step back and say 'okay i won't talk about it/share it with you'. you can really cater your own experiences, decide what you want to see or don't want to see, but a lot of people complain about 'having' to see it. pretty much every single fanfic writer i've spoken to and encountered says they NEVER want someone to send a fanfic to an idol/the person who is in it, which is good and i think the best course of action when it comes to fanfic.

all in all, fanfic exists, it's out there, and it's FICTION. it's not real, it's not meant to be shoved in other people's faces, it's not meant to be shared with the idols who are characters in it, and most often the idols are 'place-holders' for characters. what i mean by that is they are a common place for a lot of people, something recognizable and enjoyable, but the personalities and way they're written will always differ across the board. you could think of it almost as a canvas, a person you like being a canvas for you to paint your words and stories on. writing fanfiction about kpop does not make you any less or more of a fan, it doesn't mean you don't respect and care about these idols as human beings and people, and the biggest thing to worry about is simply understanding and respecting your boundaries as a fan by not sharing it/shoving it in the idols' face.

i hope this all makes sense and isn't coming off the wrong way? but i also hope it helps you feel better and understand how i feel!! you say english isn't your first language, but i would NEVER have guessed, your english is absolutely perfect and understandable <3 thank you so much for trusting me and talking to me about this, i'm very grateful and thankful for it and your sweet words about my works 🥺💕

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mulletcal · 4 years

Text

flowers, maybe daisies, might relieve the gloom. - an a.i blurb

a/n: i lowkey blame @sexgodashton for starting this whole mini series of boomer!ash things, but i also adore this because boomer!ash is soft as hell. and also a lil d*ddy but we don’t need to talk about that. title is from wait by sweeney todd bc i love it. alternative title was gonna be from L.G. FUAD by motion city soundtrack

word count:

warnings: ashton irwin being a thirst trapping, lemon stealing whore. i’m kidding it’s just a solo ash fic w no smut but some mild ash thirst trapping.

-----

‘ashtonirwin started a live video.’

Ashton didn’t often go live on Instagram, but this shelter in place order had left him ultimately bored - writing a song every day before noon, sure, but anything after that was a blur. Occasionally he would have interviews or live-streams with the band, but on days without that he was left alone with his thoughts, and his thoughts weren’t always the safest place to be; so talking to fans it was.

It was going well so far, simply asking fans how their quarantine was going - bringing some of them into the livestream so he could talk to some face to face. One girl in particular had caught his attention when they began to discuss hobbies she had picked up during the time she’d spent at home.

“Yeah, I’m learning to garden. I have a tomato plant that is just starting to sprout actual tomatoes, so that’s kind of exciting,” She had said, a nervous laugh escaping.

“Well, I would hope that your tomato plant is sprouting tomatoes, it would be a little concerning if it was growing something else,” Ashton replied with a chuckle, the girl giving a small shrug but still laughing along with him.

“You should look into it if you’ve got the room at your house, I bet it would feel rather rewarding to be able to cook something with your own fresh vegetables.”

“Would save me quite a bit of money too. Can I grow yeast? I’d like to learn how to make my own bread but here in L.A. you can’t find yeast anywhere.”

The conversation continued like that for a few minutes more, Ashton taking only a couple more fans into the livestream after that to talk to before he decided he should probably do something else productive with his day. Something like learning to garden.

It surprised Ashton the things you were able to order online during this time - soil being the main thing. He also read that saving coffee grounds would help, and he was excited at the idea of his insane coffee habit wouldn’t be completely useless. He ended up buying seeds for tomatoes, mint, sunflowers, lemongrass, and zucchini. The lemongrass and mint was specifically for Calum, realizing he would be able to dry the plants out once he had harvested them so he could make the man his very own tea.

When his package finally arrived, Ashton spread the packages out, sliding them across the table as though he was some card dealer in Las Vegas. Thinking the fans would find it amusing, he took a picture of the spread and added it to his story with the caption of ‘pick a card, any card…’. Maybe it would only be funny to him, but it did prompt a fire reaction from Michael.

It seemed as though the reaction from fans were positive though, them taking to Twitter to let him know their excitement about his new endeavour. That’s where his weekly livestreams began. He would show everyone the progress he was making with his plants, and just in general him chatting with fans. Ashton never really thought of how refreshing it could be to just talk to the fans, without the worry of time restrictions or anyone’s personal safety in the way; in fact, it left him rather inspired, loving their fans even more if it were at all possible.

A particularly warm day in L.A. left Ashton wondering if he should go out to the garden that day - but it was the day he would normally livestream, and he was excited to show what he was up to that day. Ashton wanted to plant another tomato plant, and also the lemons on his infamous tree had enough for him to make some lemonade so he was going to go through that as well.

Clad in some cut off jeans, or as Calum so affectionately called them his jorts, and a white tank top, he pulled up the live option on Instagram and waited for the people to begin to filter in before he started to speak.

“Hey guys! Just gonna wait for more of you to filter in before I actually head outside, but I thought that since you guys love my lemon tree so much, I’d make some lemonade. Fuck, I sound like a YouTuber. Is that gonna be my next career, is just YouTube tutorials on how to make shitty lemonade?” Ashton laughed to himself, slicing the lemon so he could juice it, ignoring the comments he saw about murdering his lemon children.

It didn’t take him long to make the lemonade, making mild conversation with the fans while he stirred in a little bit of sugar and some cheat mint he had ordered while waiting for his own to grow.

“Alright, now that I’m waiting for that to cool, probably best we go outside and check on those tomatoes, hm?”

It had been weird at first, talking to himself; but he quickly realized that he talked to himself anyways, even without the phone in front of him, so it couldn’t have been too weird for anyone who could overhear him.

“So I wanted to plant another tomato plant today, because everyone can use a friend right now, you know?” He looked into the camera, a smile spreading across his face when he saw the flood of cute little emojis that followed. “M’gonna be like the Bob Ross of gardening. No mistakes, only happy accidents or whatever it was he said.”

Ashton began to work away at his garden, building up a sweat in the process. It wasn’t until he leaned back, glancing at his phone did he see a text from Michael flash across the top.

‘Mate, Crystal said stop thirst trapping the fans.’

Ashton’s brow furrowed, unsure of what the text was saying, “Okay so I just got a text from Michael - what’s thirst trapping? And am I currently doing it?”

Of all the comments that followed, he noticed one that said ‘I mean… I’m not gonna say either way but take a look at yourself and get back to us’. Another one told him that it was when someone wears something in order to provoke risque texts, or gain attention from someone.

Ashton pouted, looking down at his appearance. He was kind of sweaty, but he didn’t think that the fans would mind him being covered in dirt and sweat, it’s not as though they had to smell him. Though, he would admit that he needed a shower.

“Well, since my tomato plant has been… planted next to its’ friend, and I’m apparently thirst trapping you all, I should probably go shower and clean up. Is me mentioning a shower thirst trapping as well?” Ashton rubbed his face over his hands, a small huff leaving his lips, “I don’t know… Fellow youths, tweet me and lemme know. Also, may hold a poll later on what to name these guys.” He flipped the camera around, struggling for a moment, to show the sunflowers that were starting to sprout, “M’thinking of naming one Denise. Just seems like a Denise.”

After his small speech was over, he ended the stream, grinning to himself. He hadn’t meant to show off his body in such a way, but it was funny to know that even with him hardly doing anything but be himself they still lost their shit.

Glancing around at his garden, he felt himself swell with a mild sense of pride. He was still a ways off from seeing any fruits of his labour (literally), but it made him feel good knowing he did something with his time at home, instead of slipping further into his mind which wasn’t always the kindest to him.

Ashton realized that when he was gardening, it was similar to songwriting in a way where all of his self doubts and fears went away and he could just pour himself into it - the reward being well worth the risk in the end.

Once his shower was done, he sat outside in his backyard, sipping his lemonade and enjoying the sunshine - realizing that having to stay home wasn’t all too bad, if it meant he could reset his mind, and do some small part to help how he could during that time.

tag list: @haikucal @talkfastromance4 @softbabiestan @boyfriend-cal @calum-uncrowned @wildflowerirwin @irwindoll @gosh-im-short @thesubtweeter @heavenisapeach @ridingcthood @loveroflrh @mantlereid @inlovehoodx @irwinkitten @n-ctarinenga @g-l-pierce @thecurlsofgod

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #boomer!ash

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9tzuyu · 3 years

Text

closest to me

prompt: coming out to natasha as nonbinary

note: totally meant to write this months ago, but whateverrrr. and yes, i am aware that not all nb people use they/them, this was just my own little work :p.

warnings: being scared to come out to ur sexy redhead russian of a gf :[

i’d tag but i also don’t want to somehow trigger someone :[

thank u moli for proofreading i love u to the moon and back.

. . .

you’d come out to two of your close friends, ones you knew wouldn’t judge you. they’d taken it just as expected, but that was no surprise when you’d known them your entire life. your shared opinions and thoughts were what brought you together in the first place.

your friends immediately began using your correct pronouns, and you’d never felt more right in your life. it was refreshing to hear yourself being referred by they/them rather than she/her. their constant support made you feel normal again. after so much struggling, things were finally being put into place.

but there was one person, one very important person whom you hadn’t come out to yet, and that was your girlfriend.

natasha.

the thought of having the conversation alone with her was terrifying. granted, you knew she’d never be anything but supportive, but all the what if’s came flooding through with each attempt you made.

your fingers trembled as you fiddled with the silver chain around your neck, a nervous habit you’d seemed to form over the years of wearing it.

god you wanted to tell her so bad.

but as you stood in the kitchen, natasha’s hands around your waist, you began to panic all over again. the familiar fear of judgment wrapped around your throat.

you didn’t know natasha the majority of your life like you did with friends, so you weren’t really sure what her exact opinions on different pronouns were. sure, she was part of the lgbt community, and of course she was supportive of trans people, but it still made you wonder how she’d feel about pronouns that weren’t he/him or she/her.

“what’s on your mind, baby? i can practically hear the gears turning in your head.”

you sighed. natasha always knew when you were lying, so you couldn’t make something up off the top of your head. she wouldn’t force you to talk either though. she’d give a push, but nothing more until you were certain you were ready — or in some cases, when she knew it was becoming too much to bear on your own.

“just dumb stuff. i’ll get over it soon.”

natasha nodded against your back, containing her concern for now. “you know i’m here.” she whispered, taking one of your hands away from your necklace.

“want to go downtown? we can look at some of the new shops that just opened up”

you smiled, “sure.”

for the next few weeks, you weren’t seeming to find any relief though, and natasha picked up on it. she tried her best to make things easier for you, but none of it seemed to work.

time and time again you reassured her that nothing was wrong, that things would clear up on their own, but another month down the road and natasha could still sense that something was eating away at you.

it’d gotten a little more obvious now. you didn’t go out as much with her when she was with her friends. the constant referral to you as something, or someone, you weren’t was a steady reminder of how outcast you’d originally felt when coming to terms with who you are.

“she/her” felt like a slap in the face every time you heard it. the words were exhausting, damn near agonizing to hear. but day after day you tried to suck it up out of fear of being rejected by one of the very special people you loved most.

it wasn’t until one sunday night when natasha came home to you crying in your shared bed when she’d finally had enough. her worry was through the roof and seeing you struggle so much pained her.

she dropped her keys on the nightstand and crawled into bed behind you, securing her arms tightly around your figure.

“talk to me. whatever it is, i want to hear about it.”

but that only made you cry harder. you couldn’t help but feel more alienated than you already felt. why were you crying over such a stupid little thing? you could already hear the false words slip from natasha’s lips.

“hey, baby. shh, shh, you’re okay.”

you turned your body to face natasha, teary eyes looking into hers. “you might hate me, or think i’m weird, or a freak, or that i’m just confused.”

your girlfriend gently combed through your hair with her nails. “i could never think those things about you. please tell me what this is about because i have no idea and i just want to help.”

her steady hand movement rubbing your arm while the other twirled your hand between her fingertips eventually brought you to a more reasonable state.

“you know how trans people typically go by their opposing pronouns?”

“mhm.”

“well... i don’t- i just- god this is so frustrating!” you frowned, unconsciously grasping at the chain around your neck.

“are you trying to tell me you’re trans?”

“no, no, it’s not that. well, i don’t think so, depends on who you talk to. some people like me consider themselves to be classified under the trans umbrella, but not everyone.”

natasha hummed once more while tracing small shapes against your skin.

“what do you think of nonbinary people? like, you know, those who don’t use she/her or he/him?”

she shrugged, and your heart sank for a brief second before she spoke. “i don’t have a problem with it. why?”

“i don’t like being referred to as she/her. my pronouns are they/them. i’m not a man and i’m not a woman... will that ever bother you?”

a smile broke out across the redhead’s face. “doesn’t bother me one single bit. i love you for you, y/n. not for who you think you’re supposed to be.”

relief was all you could feel. as cliche as it sounded, the weight of the world felt like it had been lifted from your shoulders. you didn’t have to worry anymore, not while natasha was around.

“is this what’s been bothering you for so long?”

you reached over and grabbed a loose red strand, it was your turn to play with her hair. “yeah. i knew you wouldn’t judge, but-”

“what if.” she confirmed and you nodded.

“does anyone else know?”

“just my two friends i grew up with.”

“no one else?” you shook your head, looping a red curl around your finger. “nope.”

“is that why you stopped hanging out with me, tony, clint and the rest of them? because everyone referred to you as she and her?”

“yeah, felt like a punch in the stomach every time i heard it. made me feel weird, not normal i guess.” you mumbled, almost embarrassed by the confession.

natasha placed a long kiss on the top of your head, rubbing your back for extra support. “they would never judge you, i’d cut them off in a heartbeat if they did. if it helps any, i can ask how they feel about it? poke around some and let you know what they say? then when they don’t have a problem with it, which they won’t, you can come out when you’re ready, yeah?”

you nodded again, although it was slightly hesitant. “sounds good.”

“forgive me if i mess up a couple of times. i’ll try not to make a big deal out of it and just correct myself.” another kiss was delivered to your head.

“oh! last question. promise.”

“yes?”

“when im around other people and you’re not with me do you want me to use they/them? i don’t want to out you when you’re not ready.”

“i swear you’re perfect,” you giggled. “but you can use they/them both when im with you and when i’m not. just try to keep it casual? please?”

“anything for you, sweetheart.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader

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diningpageantry · 5 years

Text

Scales, Fins, and other Fishy Daydreams

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43151156

Chapter 3/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 1553

Chapter Summary: Baz takes Simon's shitpost text a step further, and the outcome ends up spreading a few rumors.

SIMON

bi-sammy: sammy would still fuck huxley if he looked like the fish from shape of water

I grin smugly at my screen, sitting in a dark room with nothing shining but my mobile. The shutters stay shut, and the light from the bottom of the doorway barely filters into the room. It’s just me, this scratchy blanket, and Baz, somewhere else in England on another screen. I absolutely adore that.

gaystrell: why would you say something so controversial yet so brave.jpg

Sometimes, I catch myself smiling. Other times, I elect to ignore how real it feels. It’s weird, given that it feels like I’m just chatting with someone who I see everyday. The casualness of this reminds me of texting Penny in the afternoon on a Thursday.

Except, given the current time, it could be interpreted as more intimate than that of a friend’s text.

8am on a Saturday is usually a time reserved for comfort. For staying warm with someone you care about. Instead, I’m just messaging Baz.

bi-sammy: because im right

bi-sammy: hear me out here ive got a brilliant idea

gaystrell: whoever taught you the definition of a brilliant idea was clearly misleading you

bi-sammy: dont be an arse until youve heard it

bi-sammy: wanker

gaystrell: you’re truly proving your point

bi-sammy: ANYWAY

bi-sammy: shape of water au

bi-sammy: thats all

gaystrell: i’m appalled.

gaystrell: hold on.

I don’t think much of it. Occasionally, he disappears for an hour to two. I don’t bother asking, assuming it’s none of my business, but I do tend to worry a bit. I hope he’s alright.

After clicking off my phone, my head settles against my pillow as my eyes fall shut.

There’s something about this. There’s something about him. It’s a bit hard to pinpoint what it is, but the overwhelming feeling of comfort I have in the notifications I get from him just answering my bullshit is incredibly welcomed. He’s semisweet. I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier, but he’s a fantastically bitter person.

My head slowly turns over, eyes opening and straining in the darkness.

I hate my empty room.

I hate the absence of comfort--I hate the plainness of these walls.

I want to say I hate my foster dad, but I also feel like I’m not allowed to say that. Not because the system will take me again and throw me back (even though I could have left a year back, if I was still in it). Instead, I feel like I shouldn’t hate him. Theoretically, I should be thankful for what I have. I’m not in a boy’s home, and I haven’t been since I was 11, but the remnants remain. The fights don’t go away, and neither do the weeks of starvation.

Still, I sort of despise living here under Davy.

That’s what he makes me call him. His name. His nickname. Not dad; of course not dad. He’s had me in his care for roughly six years, but he’s still Davy to me.

Shitty fucking Davy, with his strict curfews and practically using me as a housemaid because he’s too cheap to care for himself.

Shitty fucking Davy, not letting me add anything to my room because the day I turn 18, I’m out of here until his next kid (and cheque, apparently) come in. Told me I’d wreck the walls and ruin his furniture if I did put anything on it, too.

So that’s what I’ve got. Blank walls, blank furniture, blank everything. It’s like a jail cell for a bedroom, and everything I’ve got to show for myself is in a backpack and two dresser drawers/

But, at least, I own my mobile.

Every summer job, mixed with odds and ends shit and whatever I can do for my bill. It’s all mine, and Davy can’t fucking touch it.

Maybe that’s why, when I feel it buzz against my chest, it makes me feel more alive. It’s a reminder of all that work just to be able to talk to someone freely.

Arguably, the best feeling in the goddamn world.

I grab it and flip it over. It’s just an email about uni.

Fuck.

I end up scrolling through tumblr for a little while, doing nothing but liking and reblogging a thing here or there. It takes a little while before a little drop down falls from the top of my screen.

gaystrell: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1r7Wkwj7MSFk0--DgquHGhYVBbqneEYq0J01t0uMRmxA/edit?usp=sharing

gaystrell: feel the need to apologize before you click the link, but then again, you asked for this hell

When I click on it, it pulls up a doc titled just “crackfic”, and I’m floored with the first sentence alone.

“Fuck my fish ass harder, daddy.”

My hand flies up, covering my mouth as I practically wheeze as quietly as possible. A few paragraphs in and I’m nearly crying into my palm, muffling my laughter as I read through pages upon pages of the most ridiculous fic I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.

I check the word count out of pure curiosity, and it somehow makes me laugh harder.

bi-sammy: holy fucking shit

bi-sammy: i swear to god if you don’t post that i will

gaystrell: already in the process of making the archive post

gaystrell: i seriously believe you underestimate my sincere ability to be the biggest dick on the street

bi-sammy: i dont know whether or not u meant that as ur literal dick or the big dick energy in making that a post but id probably agree with you in both

bi-sammy: tag me in the post pls i want to be the first to reblog it

gaystrell: you’re a ridiculous, sad, little man

gaystrell: of course i’ll tag you

Within minutes, it’s uploaded with the absolute worst slew of Archive tags attached to it, and as soon as he tags me in his post, I tap the notification.

Scales, Fins, and other Fishy Daydreams

Word Count: 3,192

Summary: Fish!Huxley and Sam get it on Shape of Water style

@bi-sammy this is your fault (you're welcome)

I immediately slam like and pull up reblog, rapidly typing out my response before posting.

absolute madman. cant believe youve done this. i trust you with my entire life.

As usual, he's quick to reblog back.

anything for the absolute pain in my life x

Smiling shamelessly, I ride on the moment's high as our conversation stays out in the world. I quite enjoy this version of his softness. The public, taunting replies to mine. In all this time of following him, I can't really recall him ever being this friendly with anyone but me.

Makes me feel special. Maybe too much so.

BAZ

The jarring shock of the seemingly endless notifications rattles me momentarily speechless.

It isn't even 15 minutes after I'd replied to Snow and there's already a few people reblogging it with comments about him and I. A quick “i ship y'all’ to “powermove of the century”. Each make me flush deeper as the replies flood in.

If I were to be practical, I'm aware that I shouldn't be so flustered over the concept of us being a couple. It's most likely my overactive, sad, lonely imagination, but the idea of being loved just makes me blush. Especially since it's someone who doesn't seem to absolutely loathe me.

gaystrell: are you reading these?

bi-sammy: the what?

bi-sammy: i have. nothing to read. i cant read.

gaystrell: use your two remaining brain cells look at the notes for the crackfic

bi-sammy: holy shit

bi-sammy: im cackling

A notification pops up, making me snort this time. I pull up the post and send it off to him without a second thought.

gaystrell: sent a post

gaystrell: “sounds like something huxley would do for sam”

bi-sammy: stop im gonna piss myself shits too fucking funny

I pull it back up, scrolling down to reblog and adding a quick reply that, in all honesty, I should have thought out more. Secretly, part of me is glad that I sent it.

huxley wishes he was this smooth ;)

Within seconds, replies flood in from everywhere. From jokes about Snow and I possibly dating to the concept of Huxley writing (purposefully) shitty homoerotica about himself as a fishman. I quite like the conversation about the latter, while the former makes my chest knot in ways inexplicable.

Going through the notes makes me smile, even if it's mildly embarrassing. The amount of times I've seen the eyes emoji used is definitely excessive, but still somewhat welcomed.

Even my archive has a few comments already, although more based around the fic itself. More ironically, though, is the one person who probably took it seriously and just commented, “Nice fic!” I love the abundance of shameless appreciation for obscure fanfiction in the depths of this community.

Snow's messages roll down my mobile screen as I'm checking the comments, continuously replacing the previous message for the top slot.

bi-sammy: mate

bi-sammy: i love you

bi-sammy: also every time you reblog something of mine i get like 5 followers

bi-sammy: if you mention me i get 10

bi-sammy: youre???????????? a god????????

bi-sammy: can i marry you????????????

I slowly close my laptop, eyes on my phone with an absolutely gleeful grin.

gaystrell: when and where?

#carry on #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #mine #it's a handheld disaster #snowbaz #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm-pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #simon #baz

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sweetcatmintea · 5 years

Text

Lemon and Ginger and All That

@hannahs-creations very kindly provided a random four word prompt to make into a drabble. Thanks for the prompt! Sorry it took a hot minute to write <u<;;

I hope you enjoy this little scene ^u^ Feedback is appreciated!

Prompt: vitality, manage, fluster and gleefully

Words: 1768

Characters: Marcos, Whitney, Freddy (Briefly), and Mella

Chaotic didn’t cover the state of the 6pm Café. Freddy’s promotion idea went over so well last fortnight, people were practically lining up to see what they’d do to the menu this time. The apple and elder-flower brew did not disappoint. Perfectly refreshing in the warming days of early spring, with a gentle aroma that transported you to the countryside, apple picking with your gran. Light, crumbly, pastries and tiny finger sandwiches sold almost as quickly as they were prepared. Every time a happy customer left, two more would arrive. That may be a little dramatic. It certainly felt like facing the hydra of the food industry at least. Marcos and Freddy were run off their feet greeting customers, taking orders, brewing tea, selling dry blends, answering questions, transporting food, and trying to squeeze in spot cleans. Uncle Antonio hopped between the register and the kitchen, saving Leroy from the flood of demands.

What terrible timing for Whitney to have to skip out. Although she complained about it, she lived for the busy days like today. She loved to get lost in the hustle, while still managing to find a sense of order and co-ordinating the boys. Marcos had never seen anyone more determined not to take a sick day. When the first thing Whitney did that morning was bolt to the bathroom to re-evaluate dinner, it was clear there was no avoiding it. Regardless of how it went down, the result was the same. Whitney was stuck at home while the boys played the service edition of the floor is lava. (Or would that be the customers?)

Marcos’ mind was a blur of orders and customers, but he didn’t let himself lose track of time. As soon as the hour ticked over, he tagged out. Of course, he checked that Freddy and Uncle Antonio could manage without him first. Not wasting a second more of his lunch break, he slipped into the backroom, tore off his uniform, replacing it with a change of clothes he’d prepared earlier, and was gone.

The walk to their house was made significantly faster by running. Marcos was at the painted off-white door in record time. The plan to catch his breath while he fiddled with his pockets looking for his key met a hitch when he couldn’t locate it. Briefly panicking that he’d left it at the café, Marcos tried to calculate how long it would take to run back to get it, would that take too long? It didn’t fall out while he was running did it?? He’d have to go and find it before someone else did. Should he just risk waking Whitney and asking her to let him in? Ah but she won’t get better if she’s no- wait a minute. There it is. False alarm. Fishing the key out of the depths of its fabric prison, Marcos let himself in as quietly as possible. If he was careful, he should be able to avoid the creaky floorboards.

“I cab ‘ear ‘ou.”

Never mind. He followed Whitney’s raspy croak to the living room, still mindful to tread lightly. She was huddled on the couch, cocooned with blankets and half draped over the arm of the chair. Mella, taking the role of mother hen, sprawled over Whitney’s tracksuit clad legs, incubating her just in case folding herself into cotton origami wasn’t enough. Fever was obvious, painted over Whitney’s sweaty face, interrupted occasionally by loose strands of hair. She hadn’t even bothered to tie it back. Even in illness, she was an over-achiever.

“Were you asleep?” He tired to keep his voice soft despite its gravelly texture. Judging by the way the radio was on, but turned down to its lowest possible volume, she probably had a headache. He wondered briefly if she was resenting her rabbit hearing at the moment.

Whitney shook her head, waving his worries off. “I was ju- uh- aacho!” Another balled up tissue in the over-stuffed bin. “I was jus’ dyin’g apparendly. No, I was listenig do the mid-day stories. Whab are ‘ou doin’g ‘ere?” Mella whined and wiggled closer to Whitney’s flushed face. She was supposed to be resting!

Marcos shrugged. “I got you some tea. Give me a second, I’ll make it for you. It’s called, uh, ‘Vitalitea’ and it’s got lemon and ginger and all that. Should hopefully make you feel better.” It couldn’t make her any worse at least. Red eyes and streaming nose, it was almost painful to see her so far from her bubbly self.

Whitney had always been good at reading people. Just because she was unwell didn’t mean she couldn’t see the crease setting into Marcos’ forehead. He was always so busy worrying about others. The demand he not pity her fell away to the realisation of what he’d said.

“You cabe back jusd ‘o bake tea?”

“No. I’ll get you some lunch too.” He wandered off to the kitchen to get started, entirely missing the touched shock he left her in. According to his calculations, he was still on track even after stalling to get into the house. The majority of making food was just waiting for the tea to brew. It took next to no time to make a sandwich or boil water. While the tea was brewing, he grabbed a brush and a hair tie, returning to the sick bunny.

Seeing her face a tiny bit more flushed made his stomach twist. Was it really okay for her to stay here alone?

“Can you sit up? I’ll put your hair up since I’m here.”

Whitney sighed dramatically but wiggled her way to a sitting(ish) position, much to Mella’s disapproval. “Leab me here to die. I’b not lon’g for thid worlb.”

“Nah, I think we’ll save ya Cottontail. You know Freddy and me’ll be lost without ya at the café.” He chuckled, combing the brush through her long, long, hair. She tried not to think about how his breath tickled her ear, sending tingles down her spine.

“I tolb ‘ou nod do call be that.” She huffed. Her mock anger easy to see through. It she’d really wanted him to stop, he would have done so immediately. “You’re righbt tho. You do neeb me. Who else can stob Fred’dy frob gleefully bestering beople on dates?”

“He’s not even here and you’re picking on ‘im?”

“I’b allobed to. It’s by twind given righbt.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Marcos’ hands worked quickly, twisting the strands into a roughly uniform braid. Whitney may have preferred a bun, but that just wasn’t in his skill set yet. As he worked, his own auburn curls wiggled loose. The ponytail must’ve come undone on his way over. He probably should just cut the shaggy mane, but he liked the feeling of it brushing his skin.

Whitney released her arm from the blanket burrito to playfully tug a strand. “You’re kinba a bess. Whab did ‘ou do, rub the whole bay?”

“Yup.”

His steady gaze caught her off guard. “Waib, really?” Whitney’s pink cheeks shifted much closer to a shade of red, causing Marcos’ brow to furrow. It didn’t help that she only seemed to heat up more when he pressed his hand to her forehead. She must’ve been really unwell, even her usually pale rabbit ears were tinted rose.

“Hold on. I think your tea should be ready.” He vanished back into the kitchen, retying his hair as he went.

The butterflies in Whitney’s brain were certainly just sickness making her dizzy. Nothing else. Mella stared at her. Judgementally. It wasn’t her fault her dumb heart was fluttering. Her pop rock pulse was obviously not her buzzing with giddiness. Of course she didn’t have a crush on Marcos. It didn’t matter how thoughtful he was, or how he made her feel special and appreciated with no ulterior motive. His gentle presence was just a part of him being Marcos. Falling for that would just be… well, it would be… Okay. She couldn’t lie to herself. Frog toes. It wasn’t the plague she’d managed to contract that made her face glow when he touched her. His concerned expression flashed across her mind. The tiny tilt of his scruffy eyebrows, the amber that almost glowed against the dark lines that always seemed to line his eyes, the way he looked at her. Oh dear, she melted into a goopy mess. Stars Above, she had Feelings for the scraggly hare. She had to compose herself. Pondering whether he felt something for her too would have to wait until he was gone. Working herself into a fluster was less than ideal. Upon the realisation, Mella smiled at her, in the way dogs do. If Whitney didn’t know better, she’d think Mella could read her mind. Why was she being so cocky? As if she figured it out first! Whitney’s mental rambling was interrupted by Marcos bringing in her lunch.

“Here. I put honey in the tea. It’s s’posed to be good for sore throats? Mum used to do that for me, honey and milk I mean. Should help you too.” His ears twitched self-consciously. Sure it was common knowledge that honey was a good soother, but he still felt the need to explain himself. Maybe because Whitney almost always preferred not to sweeten her teas and he hadn’t forgotten that. Whitney smiled, still too pink for his liking, thanked him and took a sip, evaporating his worries.

“There’s some medicine if you need it, and a bottle of water for later, y’know, so you don’t have to get up again… I’ve gotta head now or I’ll be late back. You gonna be okay?”

“I’b a big girl, I’ll be okay.” She took another sip. “Than’gs fo’ this. I abbreciate ib.”

“Not a problem. Just focus on betting better.”

“Oh byeah, before you go, there’s somb faze wibes in by roob. Take theb with you to geb rib ob the sweat. You brobably smbell.” To make certain she wasn’t being overly sincere, she poked her tongue at him.

“’course I do. I’m healthy so I can still breathe through my nose.” Marcos grabbed the wipes and darted out of the door before he had to face her faux fury.

It took a sprint, but he made it back to the café with just enough time to clean up and get re-dressed. He was tired as anything and had forgotten about his own lunch in the process of it all, but still found a spring in his step for the rest of the day. It was nice to think he might’ve made her feel a little better.

----------

Taglist

@inkovert and @snobbysnekboi

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vergilsangel · 6 years

Text

Heartbreak Hotel

A/N: I know this isn’t a head-canon and I’m so sorry that I haven’t gotten to requests. I’m trying to get my muse back on track but I swear it has a short attention span. So, while you wait, here is some angst.

Warning: Heartbreak. Dark thoughts. Mentions of Promnis and Gladnoct (for those who don’t like the pairings)

Tagging: @the-missimmortal @finalfantasyxvnut @idiotflowerex @sheenablacky @mysticrainpain @jojolosthermojo @thickapple @catsorfries

If you wish to be tagged just send me an ask with your username or send me an IM! ^.^

“Take those back to Iggy and see if those are the mushrooms he wants.” Gladio said, handing you several mushrooms. You took the mushrooms in hand and nodded.

“Sure. I wonder if Prompto is doing okay, he said he wasn’t feeling well after supper.” You mused as you looked up at Gladio.

“Got a crush on him?” Gladio teased, making you frown.

“No,” You replied, then thought to yourself, ‘Not on him at least.’

You had been travelling with the boys for well over two months now. During that time, you had become very attached to a certain spectacled royal advisor. It wasn’t that hard to imagine why. Ignis was charming and kind. He looked out for everyone in the group, but in your mind, he looked out for you and Noctis the most. It was a joy to spend time with him, which was why any chance you got to talk to him, you took without hesitation.

The crush wasn’t recent, in fact, it began the moment you heard the man speak. For days after that, you got to know him more and fell more and more in love with the chef. It was your closest guarded secret. Not even Gladio knew about the infatuation. Lately, you had been working up the nerve to ask him out and you couldn’t help but think this was your chance. If Prompto was asleep when you got back, you would ask Ignis on a date.

“I’ll be back.” You promised and took off for camp. The sun was beginning to go down and you knew that you all had to hurry before the daemons came out.

“I hope Prompto feels better. He should with Ignis behind to take care of him.” You mused aloud. As you neared the campsite, you saw two people before the fire and knew it was Ignis and Prompto. Relief flooded you at the sight of Prompto on his feet. He must be feeling much better. But seeing him awake also left you with a slight disappointed feeling that you couldn’t go through with your plan. Perhaps there would be another time.

“They will be gone for a bit. I sent them to get mushrooms.” You heard Ignis say. It caused you to stop beside a tree near the haven, your mind reeling in confusion. Why would Ignis send them away?

“Don’t we have plenty? I mean Noct doesn’t eat them.” Prompto asked with a chuckle.

“We do, but I wanted time with you.” Ignis answered, a sly smirk on his face. His gloved hand came up and rested on Prompto’s cheek as his green eyes gazed into Prompto’s blue ones. Your heart was already fluttering in your chest.

“Oh? Little ‘ol me?” Prompto asked, echoing the smirk. Their lips met and your heart broke. Seeing the man you adored kissing one of your best friends broke your heart. You knew that if Prompto had known about the crush he would’ve talked you out of it, but you still felt a pang of hostility towards the sunshine boy.

A soft moan from Prompto snapped you out of your pain, causing you to hide behind the tree. What if this was wrong? What if it wasn’t a lover’s kiss but instead a friendly one? Maybe Prompto was ill and Ignis was relieved he was alright.

“Iggy? I love you.” Prompto said, his voice light.

“I love you, too, Prompto.” Ignis replied. You closed your eyes tightly, fighting back the tears as you realized Ignis had only been kind to you because he was kind. He had only looked out for you to turn attention away from him and Prompto. You quietly left, trying to keep your heart together until you could truly be alone.

But with each step you took, a chip would crumble away from your heart. You had experienced this pain before, but that didn’t make it any easier. You wondered if maybe you were just unlovable and that was why this kept happening to you. Several times before you had crushed on someone only to be shot down, but somehow this one hurt worse. It felt like a cut over another cut.

Finally, you came back to Gladio and Noct, but stopped in your tracks at the sight before you. Gladio and Noct were in the midst of a passionate making out session. Wasn’t Noctis supposed to get married to Lunafreya? Yet here he was passionately kissing and groping Gladio. It felt like salt in the wound as you watched them wage war with their tongues. Now, you felt like a fifth wheel. Gladiolus and Noctis were an item and so was Ignis and Prompto whereas you had no one. You were surrounded by people, yet you felt isolated and lonely.

You chucked one of the mushrooms at Gladio’s head, hitting him and making him and Noct both jump and separate in surprise. Any other time, you would’ve laughed and made a joke about them needing to get a room, but now wasn’t the time for it. Not when you were feeling so heartbroken and on the verge of tears.

“Oh! Uh…(Y/N), what did Ignis say?” Noct asked, trying to gloss over the fact that you caught he and Gladio together.

“These are the right ones.” You lied. You knew they were the right ones, but you didn’t want to tell Gladio and Noct that Ignis had lied to get them away from camp.

After picking the mushrooms and heading back to camp, you turned in early, not wanting to face any of them. If they wanted to be together you had no problem with it, but you wanted to nurse your broken heart in peace.

The next morning everyone packed up and piled in the car, Prompto had decided to give you the front seat despite your protests. During the car ride to Lestallum, an uncomfortable silence filled the car. Any other day, you would’ve been happy to have the front seat to be near Ignis. Any other day you would fantasize about Ignis and you driving around holding hands, the wind blowing through your hair. But those days were done now that you knew he was with Prompto.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright? You’ve been quiet since we left camp.” Ignis asked, snapping you out of your sour thoughts. The last thing you wanted was for him to know that you had seen him and Prompto together and that it had broken your heart.

“I’m fine. Didn’t sleep well.” You answered. In truth, you hadn’t. After you turned in, you lay in the tent with your back to the entrance so none of the boys would come in and see your tears.

“Well you can rest until we reach Lestallum. Once there, we will stay at the Leville and you can sleep better.” Ignis answered with a kind smile. You nodded, unable to bring yourself to return the smile. As you settled down and stared out the window, the dark thoughts from the night before hit you again and you struggled to hold them back. Why was it every time you fell for someone they never felt the same?

After reaching Lestallum and checking into the hotel, you lay on your bed in your private room and let your emotions go. Tears rolled down your cheeks in waves as you finally let your emotions break free. All the pain, all the heartbreak, all the negative thoughts you had about yourself and why you couldn’t be happy just once. In the midst of crying, a knock sounded at your door, making you quickly wipe your eyes.

“Who is it?” You called, grateful your voice held up.

“Ignis, may I come in?” Ignis asked. Your heart sank low in your chest as you flipped your wet pillow over. Of all the people to come to your door, it had to be the one who broke your heart without even trying.

“Yeah.” You answered, hoping you were hiding the fact that you had just cried well. Ignis stepped in and his eyes fell on you. Immediately he noticed your red puffy eyes and knew instantly that you had been crying.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been avoiding us all since last night. Are you ill?” He asked.

“No. I’m fine.” You replied. Ignis crossed his arms, giving you a flat look.

“(Y/N), it’s me, you can talk to me.” He tried, going to your side. Instantly, you were on your feet, stepping away from him. You didn’t want him to know. You didn’t want him feeling guilty over something he had no idea about. But your resolve was weakened by your anger and wanting him to know how much pain he inadvertently caused you. Even in your heart broken state, you knew that none of this was his fault.

“Not about this. I can’t talk to you about this.” You answered. You never heard him come to your side until you felt his hand on yours.

“You can tell me anything.” He implored, his green eyes filled with worry. Worry for you. Worry over a person he only saw as a friend and nothing more. Your resolve broke under that gaze.

“I saw you and Prompto kissing last night. The past few weeks I had been developing feelings for you and they were all crushed in one night.” You answered. Ignis’s eyes widened and a blush formed across his cheeks as he realized what this meant.

“(Y/N) I don’t know what to say. My apologies that I don’t return those feelings, but I guarantee you will find someone worthy of your love.” Ignis said, squeezing your hand. You removed your hand from his grip.

“I don’t want to hear that. Not from you. Not right now. I’m tired. I’m tired of getting my hopes up and having them smashed. I’m tired of falling for people and getting clobbered. I’m tired of this happening over and over to me.” The tears that had been falling before came again and fell down your cheeks.

“I’m tired of being alone. I’m calling Cor in the morning and I’m going to join him in the hunt for the lost tombs. I need time away. Right now I look at you and it hurts.” You continued. Ignis felt his own heart break at her words, but he sensed it would be best for everyone.

“I understand. You will always be welcome to join us again if you wish.” He said gently. You nodded and Ignis left you alone to heal your broken heart.

#Final Fantasy XV #Final Fantasy 15 #FFXV #FF15 #Final Fantasy #Ignis #Ignis Scientia #Ignis Stupeo Scientia #FFXV Ignis #FF15 Ignis #ignis fanfiction #ffxv fanfiction #ff15 fanfiction

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edierone · 7 years

Text

Found a whole goddamn notebook in the dumpster this time

no idea whose handwriting this is or why they’d write it or who it’s supposed to be about but it’s fun isn’t it? happy ficlet fantasy friday!

Drifting up from a warm, dozy sleep, she feels the bed shifting under her, and the weight of an arm draped across her. She smiles, keeping her eyes closed, snuggling against him. He keeps moving, though, instead of settling in, and she mumbles, “What’re you doin?”

He’s propped himself up on one elbow behind her, the arm over her doing something complicated.

“Taking a bed selfie.”

“Huh?” She still hasn’t opened her eyes. What the fuck time is it, anyway?

“A bed selfie.”

Like that explains it.

One eye, then the other, slides reluctantly open, and she can make out his iPhone a few inches away in the dimness. They’re both in the frame, grainy and low-res; her hair is spilled out over the pillow, her bare shoulder exposed, his muscled arm disappearing into the corner where his hand is holding the phone. His thumb touches the button.

“It’s gonna be a week till we see each other again — I need a souvenir for when I get lonely,” he says.

Aww, he’s gonna miss me!, she thinks, charmed. Better give him something good to keep him warm up here.

“Hi, sexy!” she purrs, rubbing her backside against him.

He laughs, low in his throat, then kisses her temple, caressing her face with his own. He leans over her, resting his phone hand on the bed next to them.

“Mmm … love you,” he murmurs against her ear.

“Love you too,” she sighs. She turns her head to get his lips properly on hers, but something catches her eye.

“Babe — you’ve got it in video mode,” she giggles.

“What? No I don’t — oh yeah — ha! Nearly made a bed selfie sex tape. Hold on a sec —”

He squints at the phone, holding it back out a bit, then touches the button again, stopping the recording.

She kisses him lightly, eyes slipping shut again, and says “Send that to me tomorrow, will you? I might get lonely too.”

She knows he’s smiling in the dark, she can hear it when he says, “I’ll send it to you right now.”

“Mkay,” she sighs, feeling the heaviness of sleep creeping up again. She’s not sure how many minutes have gone by when she hears him again, all the cozy flirtiness gone from his voice.

“Uhhh … hm. That’s not — how did I — shit.”

“What is it?” she manages, vaguely alarmed by the flat worry she hears. Before he can answer, there’s a distinctive ping from her own phone on the bedside table.

She’s awake now. “Did you schedule a tweet for this time of night?”

He looks at her, confused. He has no idea what she’s talking about. She sits up, turns on the lamp and reaches for her phone, and sees a notification illuminating the screen.

And there it is, the reason for that sound, the custom tone she’s had put on her phone solely for his posts that tag her on social media sites: He’s somehow managed to tweet something, minutes ago, from his public account, and mention her.

“Bed selfie - miss you already,” it says, and then the video.

“Oh no …”

Her heart is triphammering, she feels a little sick. He looks at her, face full of dread.

Wordlessly, she holds it up for him to see. He presses the “play” icon, and they watch, heads together.

The camera is unsteady, and the lighting is isn’t great — but the sound is clear, and it’s absolutely, definitely her, and him. Together, in bed, obviously intimate and comfortable … and sexual as all hell. Twenty-four seconds. Time stamp, 3:23 a.m. today.

“Ffffffffuuuuuuuuck,” he groans.

“Oh shit,” she breathes.

“How do I get it back? Can I delete that? Oh goddammit —“

“Christ — how did you even DO that? Why do you even have the app on your own fucking phone?”

“I was — I don’t know! I sent it and then I went to check my email and then I looked back — you know I don’t know how this shit works! I thought I was messaging it to you — it’s fucking three thirty in the morning, I can’t —”

“Give me that!” She takes his phone, deletes the tweet, but knows that’s not all there is to it. She shoves it back into his hand. “Call whatsherface, Kylie or whatever her name is, the girl that does your social shit — call her right now. Or text her — both! Get hold of her right now!”

He’s frantically trying to do just that, while she opens her own Twitter app and deletes the tweet from her feed. It’s only been sixteen minutes since it was posted, and it’s the middle of the night, maybe nobody saw it?

Yeah, no.

It’s 3:45 a.m. in Vancouver, but it’s midday in Europe, and early risers are already up in New York. Fuck.

She watches, fascinated, as the number of notifications on her page begins to climb. Against her better judgment, she takes a look at what’s coming in — not sixty seconds after the time stamp, there’s a lot of “holy shit” and “OMFG” and “this is real! I live!” and so on. She opens her stealth tumblr account — same fucking story. There are screen caps already! What the fuck is wrong with people? It reminds her of one of those virus-outbreak movies, where one sick person infects ten more and they infect twenty more each and yada yada the breakdown of civilization. This won’t end civilization, but it sure as hell might fuck shit up for the two of them (including, probably, the final nail in the coffin of that other thing she’s had going on the last few months).

And then, shortly after they’d deleted the goddamn tweet, now five minutes in the past, a flood of “wait, what happened?” “WTFF what is going on” and “THE LINK WON’T WORK THE TWEET IS GOOOONE!”

Meanwhile, he’s located Katey or Kimmy or whomever, who’s now yelling at him from someplace with loud voices and music. She’s only half-listening to their conversation, but the gist of it seems to be that there’s nothing they can do now but damage control — they deleted it from their accounts, sure, but any number of people have seen it, re-tweeted it, screen-capped it — and downloaded and saved the video for re-posting.

Annnnnd here’s one on her tumblr dash: “i am the goddess of true love! I bring you deleted video, resurrected! Look upon my works and rejoice!”

The video is in it. Fuck. She touches the play icon, hears “It’s gonna be a week till we see each other again” — double fuck. It’s the real thing. It works. “Mmmm, love you …”

He finally hangs up on Kristie/Kelly/Kyra.

“ …You’ve got it in video mode” [giggle]

She hits pause, afraid to look at him right now. They’ve been so, SO careful, and protected themselves so well — everything ambiguous, smokescreens deployed, deniability maintained … well, mostly. Nothing they can’t handle. But this here — this is the smoking gun. She wants to shout at him, to ask him what the fuck he was thinking, how could he be so careless, how could he expose them like this, why didn’t he just wait till tomorrow to send it to her like she asked? Put on his goddamn reading glasses, for fuck’s sake?

But she knows he already feels awful, so she just squeezes her eyes shut and tries to breathe calm into her body. She doesn’t want to have a screaming fight right before she flies to another continent. This isn’t the old days — she’s fucking calm and fucking mature and they will deal with this like fucking grownups.

He sits on the bed, folded up with his head on his knees. An inarticulate groan comes from his general direction. “They’re gonna dissect this like the fucking Zapruder film,” he laments, and she barks startled laughter.

He looks up at last, surprised that she’s not trying to strangle him.

“How bad is it?” He gestures toward her phone.

Cringing slightly, she selects a representative post from tumblr: It’s the video, reblogged from the alleged “goddess of true love,” and right underneath it, a gif of Elmo in front of flames. The post has 290 notes already. The tags are a jubilant, nonsensical volcano of words and phrases she only partly understands — fucc me uppp, slay my entire ass, asdfjkl;lskj, platonic adult friends, i love dying and death and being dead, MURDER ME, why are they like this NEVER STOP, fight me, they’re gonna kill me, im spiraling, it’s a dumpster fire and i’m in it.

“Whyyyyy …” he moans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Most of America is still asleep, too. Just wait. It’s going to be so much worse.”

More inarticulate sounds of misery from him, then: “You know, if somebody assassinated the fucking President, the news wouldn’t spread this fast,” he mumbles. It’s only a slight exaggeration.

She flops dramatically onto her back, addresses the ceiling: “So. What do we do now? Deny and obfuscate?”

He laughs, loud and happy, for the first time since the phrase “bed selfie” came into their lives. “Fuck yeah!”

He stretches out and rolls over onto her prone body, covering her like a blanket, starts kissing his way down her neck. She shoves at him — not very convincingly — and grumbles “What’re you doing? Shouldn’t we start doing damage control?”

“Now??? Nahhh … it’s already out there.” He kisses her deeply, then murmurs into her ear, “We’re gonna do the time — might as well do the crime.” Reasonable, he’s always so reasonable …

“Hard to argue with that,” she says, shivering a little, running her hands over his broad back. Her heart speeds up and heat pools at her center, her physical responses to his touch as reliable as ever, yet still somehow surprising even after all these years. “Guess we’re pretty well fucked —”

“Oh, yeah,” he says against the hollow of her throat, then raises his head to look her in the eye — his expression the same one that’s gotten them into this kind of trouble a thousand times in the last 25 years, and will a thousand times more. “We’re definitely gonna be that.”

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

@justholdinghandsok @becksndot5 @whatfallsaway @iva69s @guitargirl48 @emceecapitalc @inkcollectorus @lostlastsforever756

#no idea who wrote this #i just transcribed it #it was all bent and torn and had coffee grounds all in it #but i thought it was cute #things i found in the dumpster

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