#just kinda obsessed seeing them in these colors apparently | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

squirrel-fund · 9 months

Text

A.U.gust 2023 • Day 9 • College

A huge thank you to @gallavichthings for hosting!! 🧡

[This started out as just a graphic of Mickey's door, and then this happened...]

•••

•••

"Excuse me. Could you tell me where to find-"

"Do you know-"

"Would you mind help-"

Ian freezes among the sea of college students that pass by, ignoring him as if he were invisible.

Why didn't he take the advice of his older siblings and gotten here earlier? Now, he could feel anxiety pooling in his chest as fear sped up his heart rate. His first day at college and he's already fucking up. Damn, what if Frank had been right? What if he was just a mistake, a waste of space.

"Hey, you okay?"

Ian focuses on the female voice in front of him. Finally, someone willing to help him.

"I think... I'm fucking lost."

"Here on campus, in life, or both?"

He lets out a relived laugh. "Definitely both."

"Okay." The girl repositions her bookbag on her left shoulder and grins at him. "We'll tackle one thing at a time. Can't find your dorm?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"You look scared to death." She laughs before softly punching him in the shoulder. "Come on, I know someone who can help. I'm Mandy, by the way."

Ian can't help the relieved smile that blooms across his face as he follows his new savior across campus. "Nice to meet you, Mandy. I'm Ian."

<><><>

"So, Ian... you single?"

"Oh, uhm... well, kinda."

"Kinda? What the hell does that mean?"

This was the moment that Ian had obsessed about. To be out and proud on campus or be okay with hushed hookups in some random closet. To gay or not to gay was the question he desperately needed to decide an answer to. So, why not give it a shot with a helpful stranger.

"I'm single. My... my ex... we broke up after graduation. He said he didn't want to be tied down."

Mandy snorts at his answer. "Well, your ex is dumb as shit. You definitely won't be single for long, trust me."

That was it. No judgmental frown, no shocked reaction. Ian just knows, right then and there that Mandy, whatever her last name is, will officially become his favorite person on campus.

At least for now.

As they continue through the halls, Ian starts to notice that the overly cheerful bulletin boards that introduce RAs to the students around them and encourage that friendship is indeed magic, have suddenly gone barren.

No bright colors, no badly drawn, well-known characters from television and movies. Just printed notices that announce floor meetings, things for sell, and other blunt, to the point directions. Ian has to chuckle when such a notice catches his eye. It reads: "GO TO FUCKING CLASS!"

Nudging Mandy in the side, he points at the sign so she too can enjoy the ridiculous words that are trying, and probably failing, to be motivational.

But instead of laughter, all she does is roll her eyes. "I know. He's so fucking stupid. I swear if he gets kicked outta the RA program I'll kill him myself."

And Ian needs to ask the obvious question. Who the hell is 'he'? But before the question can even land on his tongue, Mandy is pounding on a door.

"Open up, dickbreath! Need your help."

She jiggles the doorknob, but it's apparently locked. Dickbreath must not be in, but Ian can see a note taped to the door that has an emergency number written on it.

"Maybe we should call the emergency number?"

Mandy pauses her assault on the door and raises an eyebrow at him. "What emergency number?"

Another glance towards the piece of paper and Ian can see that the number isn't a number at all. It's a word written middle finger to those on their side of the door.

With a shake of her head, Mandy goes right back to pissing the occupant off. She just keeps pounding on the door, making threats to whoever lives inside, while other residents start peeping their heads out into the hall, clearly interested in the disturbance but not enough to take action.

One audience member must know her, though. "Just fucking text him, Mandy, fuck! Some of us are trying to study. I mean-"

And it's during this rant that the door swings open and the hottest, angriest guy that Ian has ever fucking seen steps out into the hallway and instantly yells at the guy.

"Fuck off, James! You're a general education major. The fuck are you studying? Two plus two? Spoiler... it's fucking four."

It shuts the guy up instantly. Well, that and the laughter from his fellow peers.

But dickbreath isn't done with him.

"Why don't you go write a letter home to your mommy? Tell her you're still a virgin. Bet she'd be proud."

Ian can practically feel the anger radiating off of James when he slams the door closed. The rest of the students return to their rooms and Ian hears Mandy's brother clear his throat.

"Who the hell is this?"

"Ian. He's lost."

"No shit. He's with you."

She scoffs, crossing her arms and hitting him with a glare. "He needs help with finding his dorm room."

Dickbreath, or whoever, leans against the doorframe. "And? Take him to student services. S'not my job to play tour guide."

"Actually, it is. You're a resident advisor, Mick, so maybe you should, ya know... 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘦 him where to go."

Ian senses tension. He hates tension. So, he trys to smooth things over. "It's cool. Nick is right. I should have-"

"It's Mick." Dickbreath... uhm, Mick says, sounding out the letter M like he's talking to a toddler. "Like milk, mad, money... and call me Mickey."

Mandy giggles. "Like the m-mm-mouse."

"Shut the fuck up."

Apparently, she's used to this because she just sticks her tongue out at him and pulls her phone out.

"Oh, shit, I gotta go. I'm late for class-"

"The fuck you are."

"-and the professor is a real bitch-"

"You should love her then."

"-so, anyway, yeah. Ian, Mickey. Mickey, Ian. Have fun!"

And just like that, she's gone.

<><><>

Mickey eyes Ian. Jesus, this dude's tall. He should be in a damn centerfold, not here, outside Mickey's room, looking like a fucking wet dream. And goddammit, he's gorgeous. Red hair, green eyes, freckles fucking everywhere. He's always been a sucker for freckles. They just demand attention. Quickly, he imagines them together, talking about absolutely nothing, a storm rolls in while Mickey traces those tiny specks with his fingertips.

Shit. Mickey needs to get laid real fucking soon because, he thinks, he just might need to kick his own ass for that thought.

"What building you in?"

Ian shrugs. "I don't know."

And that's annoying, but, "alright, what's your room number?"

"I don't... I didn't get that information."

Mickey grabs his hoodie off the inside hook beside his door and shrugs it on, closing it behind him. "That's weird. They usually give you that shit in orientation."

Ian doesn't say anything and Mickey takes a minute to assess this situation. New student, lost as fuck, track pants, backwards hat, duffle bag-

"Which you didn't go to because they scheduled your practice at the same time, didn't they?"

Ian's eyes go almost comically wide. "Yes! Why do they do that?"

Mickey shrugs, pushing through the emergency exit open in a way that doesn't trip the alarm, a skill mastered after weeks of running late for class. "Because they own you now. Scholarship?"

"How did you know?"

"Ain't my first year, Red. Plus, I'm supposed to be 'friendly' and 'relatable' as a chosen RA. I know how to spot fresh meat. Plus... you're dressed like a fucking billboard for both Under Armor and this school. No one does that unless they're throwin' money at them."

"Right. Makes sense."

Mickey nods. Of course it does. It's then that he realizes they're walking without a destination, and really, that's unacceptable. "So, do you know anything about where you might be staying?"

Ian stops walking, dropping his duffle bag to the ground before taking a knee and rummaging through it. And Mickey absolutely DOES NOT think of Ian on his knees for any other reason.

"Ah! Here! It says my resident advisor is Paula? Uhm... yeah, Paula Bitterman."

"Fuck off. Paula?"

"You know her?"

Yeah, Mickey fucking knows her alright.

"Listen man, I'm supposed to make you feel comfortable in your 'transition to educational success' but that bitch is fucking nuts. One dude, last year, apparently played his music too loud for her taste and to teach him a lesson she tied him to a chair, smeared raw ground beef on his body, and threatened him with a big ass German Shepard. Guy had nightmares for weeks."

Mickey doesn't need to add that the guy in that story had been him.

Ian groans with this new information. "Great. That's all I need on top of everything else. A psycho RA!"

And he feels bad. Mickey knows how much pressure new students are under, add in being on a scholarship and then top that with Paula Bitterman? Anyone would crumble under that.

Ian shouldn't have to though.

Mickey knew as soon as Mandy showed up at his door with Ian what his matchmaking bitch of a sister was doing. And even though he didn't seem to, he does appreciate her efforts.

But, he wanted to play this slow. That's why his ass is single 𝘯𝘰𝘸. He moved too fast. Got too comfortable and went and caught feelings for someone who did not feel the same.

And ever since then, for the past six months, Mandy has paraded every gay guy she meets across Mickey's path. Yet, none of them have interested him. Just a gray blend of guys who could be mistaken for anyone else.

But there's something different about Ian. From the moment that Mickey saw him in the hallway, he can tell this motherfucker clings to the shit he cares about.

Mickey sorta wants that someday.

So, fuck it. Here goes.

"You could... I don't know... I mean, if you wanted to..."

"If I wanted to what?"

Spit it out, Milkovich!

"You should sleep with me."

That was not what Mickey's brain had wanted to say.

"I mean... not together, obviously..."

Ian scrunches up his face, sarcasm extremely evident. "Obviously? You mean, you don't want to sleep with me?"

Mickey sighs. "What I 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 is that there's an open room on my floor this semester. I could probably pull a few strings. Get you moved."

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Sure, why not? You're a better option than whatever dumbass this place chooses for me."

Mickey knows he needs to try harder.

<><><>

Three weeks into the semester and Ian is obsessed with Mickey.

How could he not be?

Not only did Mickey get Ian moved to his building but he also, somehow, got him a card for the cafeteria to get free food. He had said it was because of Ian's "fucked up schedule" making it nearly impossible to grab a bite on days he has practice.

But, Ian likes to believe it's more than that.

Because Mickey comes to his games, he texts him at night to complain about James and his "bitchy attitude", he sends him funny memes before Ian has to run across campus to the two classes he absolutely dispises, and on the rare days when Ian comes in way too late from practice, muscles aching, exhausted beyond measure, Mickey always has some type of food waiting for him.

Yet, Ian doesn't say anything. He knows Mickey is gay. That's not the problem.

The problem is that Mickey is a RA. And, technically, all these gestures that he makes for Ian fall under the umbrella of a helpful RA. Through his rough, sorry not sorry, attitude, Mickey is a great RA and he actually gives a shit about his residents, even James.

So, yeah, Ian stays quiet about his infatuation for his RA.

Or, at least he does until October, when he's interrupted from his studying by a familiar, obnoxious banging on his door.

He yells out that it's open and just who he expects steps into his room.

"Hey, Mands. What's up?"

She kicks the door shut and glares at him. Ian feels a fear he's never experienced before slide down his back. "What-"

"Are you retarded?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are. You. Retarded?"

Honestly, Ian's a bit offended. "No."

Mandy crosses her arms and nods. "Then are you blind?"

Alright. That's it.

"Okay, Mandy. I don't know what your deal is but-"

"𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭!?" She practically screeches in his face. "My 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 is 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. My brother likes you. He does all of these things for you to prove it and show he's interested, and yet I find out that you're going on a date with some meat head from my chemistry lab this Halloween? What the hell, Ian?"

"Mickey? Hold on, Mickey likes me?"

"Yes! God, you are 𝘴𝘰 dumb!"

Ian agrees, perhaps he is. "I just thought he was doing all that stuff because he's my RA."

Mandy scoffs, but her posture softens. "My brother half-asses his RA responsibilities just enough so they won't pull it from him." She sits down next to Ian on his bed. "Feelings are hard for him. Whenever he experiences them or voices them, all he gets is disappointment. His ex, his so-called best friend from high school... our father..."

Ian stays quiet. He doesn't know much about Mandy and Mickey's dad but he knows enough to shut his mouth.

It's a solid minute and a half before she continues. "He deserves to have someone be kind to him for once. To love and to be loved in return. Doesn't everyone deserve that? At least once in this shitty life?"

He nods, because, yeah, everyone does deserve that. And Ian knows that let down. He knows how it feels, he knows how it tastes. How it can stew within you and ruin every good thing you come across.

"Yeah, of course."

"You remember back when we first met? When I asked you if you were single? If you had been in a relationship or straight, I would have taken you two floors down, where my boyfriend is a RA. Instead, I took your gay, single, lost puppy looking ass to my brother."

Ian doesn't know what to say to that. Imagine if his fear from that day had won out and he had never met Mickey? That thought alone physically pains him.

His cellphone lands in his lap. "Text him. Now. And cancel your other date. Halloween is Mickey's favorite holiday."

He just grins. "Yeah, I know."

As Mandy lets herself out, mumbling about how clueless men are, Ian opens up his and Mickey's message thread. He takes a deep breath and takes a leap. Hopeful he'll land safely in solid arms attached to tattooed knuckles.

He types:

"Are you free on Halloween?"

#not beta'd we die like Sammi should have #this has no plot #but I wrote it so #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #mandy milkovich #college au #a.u.gust 2023 #auds writes #auds does canva #ficlet #less than 2500 words

131 notes · View notes

blainesebastian · 2 years

Text

familiarity (pt2)

words: 4,478 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (heavily requested for a part 2) a continuation of: readers friends are obsessed with austin and reader meets austin out and about. austin is intrigued by the reader’s lack of interest and is determined to get to know you notes: part one is here! warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @foreverdolly, @inkpot-winters

Something you can honestly say you never thought would happen in your life is standing in your kitchen as Austin Butler sifts through your coffee cup collection.

“There’s no reason to have this many.”

You smile a little, moving to lean against the island counter, watching him as you pour more cereal into the bowl in front of you. Maple Clusters, of course, an extra sprinkle of cinnamon and some honey. You spoon some into your mouth before the clusters can get soggy.

“There are plenty of reasons.” You reply, mouth slightly full, which makes Austin look over his shoulder at you in amusement. Swallowing, you then stick your tongue out at him.

He laughs lightly, “That’s cute—thanks.”

You’ve been hanging out on and off for the betterment of two weeks, nothing too serious, mostly lunch and breakfast dates, coffee, walking around various parks in New York. The season is turning a bit cooler, chilly, your favorite time to break out the jeans and sweaters. Pulling the sleeves down of the sweater you’re wearing over your hands, your eyes take in the black jeans and navy sweater that Austin’s got on—it definitely brings out the brightness in his eyes, highlights the blonde in his soft curls.

Definitely nice to look at.

You finish your cereal and put the bowl in the sink, joining him at the counter. “I mean, c’mon, I gotta have mugs to match my moods.” You pull out a giant red crab shaped mug that unironically reads have a crabby day or just a simple white mug with red letters that says not today, satan.

Austin is skeptical to say the least, picking up a dinosaur one that changes colors when you pour hot liquid into it. You smile, shaking your head before pulling two random ones from the cabinet to fill up with coffee. Austin can’t stay long, apparently he’s got an interview to go get ready for, and you can assume from the ones you’ve watched on YouTube, he’s not about to wear what he has on.

Shame really.

You’re kinda just…taking this thing day by day with him, unsure if you want to make promises or projections about what might come next. You really like hanging out with him and the chemistry fizzles between you like bacon in a hot skillet but…you’re also trying to be a realist as much as you can. You know exactly what it feels like to put so much effort and trust into someone only for them to break it. Hurt you.

You can’t go through that again.

You shake off the thoughts lingering in your mind, watching as Austin grabs cream and sugar and adds it to his coffee. And to his amusement the mug starts changing color, from a green dinosaur paradise to a red, comet filled sky.

“That’s slightly depressing.”

“Them’s the brakes.” You coin, picking up your mug to take a sip.

He hasn’t met your friends yet which you think is probably for the best, for now. They’re a little…much. In the best way, of course, but you also selfishly want to keep Austin to yourself. Besides, he enjoyed the fact that you didn’t automatically know who he was when you first met, mise well take advantage of the small bubble you two have created around yourselves.

“Oh, I tried that Blueberry cereal you were talkin’ about,” Austin licks his lips, “I see what you’re sayin’—gets soggy way too fast.”

“Right?” You laugh lightly, running a hand through your hair. Who knew running into Austin at Whole Foods would create this…domesticity about cereal, but it’s almost like a comfort topic, easy to come back to, easy to find common ground.

It might seem silly or stupid but you need conversations like that, especially since you’re unsure where this whole thing is going with him, where you want it to go. You keep second-guessing yourself that you even know what you’re doing or how to feel—Jason’s done a number on you in ways you don’t expect sometimes.

Austin glances down at his phone when it buzzes, swiping away a message before he slides it into his back pocket. You know he has to get going soon but he lingers, taking another sip of coffee,

“I was thinkin’ since we’re cutting this short, maybe tonight we could do somethin’. I could pick you up for dinner?”

You set your mug down and your entire body tries to tell you to say yes, why not, sounds great. And yet nothing comes out, you clamp up instantly, almost ready to swallow your own tongue. Austin watches you for a moment, his eyebrows drawing together slightly,

“Or not—breakfast is totally fine by me,” He smiles, “If that’s your thing.”

“No, I mean—yes, it’s,” You let out a long breath you hadn’t realized you were keeping in your lungs. You reach over and gently settle your palm along his wrist, using it to ground yourself in what you’re about to say,

“I’m sorry, I uh—” The words get trapped underneath your tongue and you feel a little helpless in settling them loose. Austin is patient, covering your hand with his, running his thumb along your knuckles.

He shakes his head, “You don’t have to explain.”

“I want to,” Because you do. The last thing you want is for Austin to think you’re not interested…which feels so ironic because a month or so ago your friends were attempting to convince you to see the Elvis movie once, let alone two or three times.

So much can change in such a small amount of time.

“I was with my ex, Jason, for seven years,” Your eyes travel over his face as he listens and it dawns on you that you’ve never really shared this with anyone else other than family, your best friends. You feel like that vulnerability might rip you in two but Austin’s eyes are calm, comforting in a way that maybe you should have expected.

“It was really good for a long time but…he just wasn’t who I thought he was.”

Austin frowns a little, standing up straight from leaning against the counter. “He hurt you?”

You nod—there’s no reason to give light to details, to unbury those where you’ve put tombstones. Austin, you’re sure, can use his imagination. Regardless, he gets the point. His face twists in soft empathy, gently reaching out with his other hand to play with a wave of hair near your cheek, tucking it behind your ear.

“M’sorry,” And so many people say that but there’s a wild difference in Austin’s tone—there’s no pity, he doesn’t feel sorry for you, but empathizes. He feels hurt because that’s how you feel.

You clear your throat, shaking your head, your chin dipping down as his fingers brush along your jawline, “It’s not your fault.” While acknowledgement is good, you also know it’s best not to dwell. You’ve been working on that, how best to move forward.

“But uh—I’d like to go out tonight, on a date with you.” You smile a little, “Dinner.”

He raises his eyebrows, hand falling from your chin, “You sure?”

Humming, you reach into the cabinet full of mugs to pull out a very specific one. It’s black and has little Magic 8 balls printed on it with the common phrase ‘ask again later’. And then you show him what it says on the inside, on the bottom, a blue triangle that says ‘signs point to yes’.

Austin smiles, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek, “It’s a date.” Your stomach flutters instantly at the soft touch, skin flushing with blush.

“A date.” You confirm with a confident nod, putting the mug back into the cabinet.

“Girl, it’s a date not a root canal.”

You groan lightly as you sift through the clothes hanging up in your closet, attempting to find an outfit to wear tonight. Paige is right, this should be something that’s enjoyable for you—going out with Austin tonight on an official date, and yet you can’t remove this cinderblock of dread from sitting on your chest. You have to stop overthinking this, you’ve been out and in with Austin plenty of times, the only difference now is the hour of the day and dinner.

You can totally handle this…as long as you find something to wear.

You pull out a black dress and show it to your best friend who crinkles her nose, “What are you going to a funeral?”

Scowling, you put the dress back before looking through some other options, the hangers screeching against the pole they’re on as you move the metal back and forth. Paige gets up from her spot on the bed, peeking past you to try and help. She tugs out a few things that are casual but still highlight long lines of your body, your curves—Paige has always been good at this.

“We can do your makeup too—I’m thinkin’ red lipstick. Oh! Maroon.” She grins, moving to look at your vanity near the bed.

Running a hand over your forehead, you pick up the denim dress that Paige has pulled out and slip it on. It sits right above your knees, has short sleeves, buttons and a belt that clinches at your small waist. Looking down at yourself, you smooth your hands over the fabric and open the closet door a bit further to see what it looks like in the full-length mirror.

You think you were expecting some sort of transformation but…it’s just you, you in a nice dress. You smile a little, tugging out white booties to put on with it, Paige turning to look at you with a grin.

“God, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Stop,” You laugh softly, allowing her to sit you down and give you some light makeup details, everything is pretty natural except the lip color, maroon. Definitely doesn’t look bad.

“Your one goal is to have fun tonight, okay?”

You roll your eyes playfully but you are smiling, “Yes, mom.”

“I mean it,” She grins, putting the makeup brushes away, “Austin’s a good guy and you deserve that, don’t forget it.”

And okay, that might take a little more work than you think. You’re so used to getting the short end of the stick, to constantly question people’s motives, feelings, dissect their words to make sure they actually mean what they say. It’s daunting and exhausting…but you do get a good feeling from Austin, he’s shown you who he is, you just have to trust that.

You stand from the bed, running a hand through your hair, “I’m working on it,” You promise, “Thanks for your help.”

Paige lingers for a few moments before disappearing to the kitchen…and coming back with shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. You laugh harshly, shaking your head,

“What are you doing?”

“Liquid courage,” She grins, putting the glasses on your nightstand and filling them up. “C’mon, I’m hoping to get you slightly tipsy so you’ll forget I’m here and let me talk to him.”

“No,” You shake your head, amused, “Not yet—let me get this date under my belt, okay?”

Paige huffs dramatically but you know she understands. You got a lot on your mind. She hands you your shot glass and you both playfully clink them together, “To Austin Butler’s fine ass.”

You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as your cheeks kiss bright red. You definitely can’t turn down that kind of toast and raise your glass, throwing the liquid back.

The tequila is such a bad idea and you could really kick Paige in the ass for even bringing it into your bedroom. The first shot burns the back of your throat and you’re contemplating why people even do these things anyways because they’re fucking terrible. And then when your best friend leaves and you’re stuck with nothing but your worry and your thoughts as you wait for Austin to knock on your door…

One shot turns into three, which turns into taking sips directly out of the bottle.

It’s a slow process to quiet nerves but you don’t realize how strong it hits you until you’re wandering over to answer the door when there’s knocking. Glancing through the peep hole, you sway back on your heels to unlock the deadbolt, pulling it open to see Austin. He looks good because of course he does—a light pair of jeans with one hole in the knee, those same booties he loves to sport and a black sweater. You can see a silver chain on around his neck, underneath the fabric, paired with a selection of rings on his fingers (ugh). His hair is perfectly coifed in big dirty blonde curls and there has to be some sort of law he’s breaking with looking as good as he does.

It's hard not to think about, even when he speaks to you. Then you realize he’s asking you something and you blink.

“What?”

A soft sound of amusement, “I said, ‘hey, you ready to go?’ but I think the better question now would be, ‘are you checkin’ me out?’”

You scoff because isn’t everyone? And then you realize your filter is gone because you’ve said that out loud, a bloom of warmth kissing Austin’s cheeks. You raise your eyebrows, covering your face quickly with your hand, oh no.

“I mean—” You shake your head, “I dunno what you really expect when you walk around like that, with that face and whatnot.”

Austin’s eyebrows are drawn together, his mouth slightly open as he gently reaches for your wrist while you ramble, pulling your hand away from your face,

“And like—your hair does this whole wispy thing and do you even realize what you’re capable of when you’re wearin’ jewelry? It’s not fair.” Your voice definitely has a whining quality to it and Austin laughs a little,

“Hey,” He interrupts, “Are you—are you drunk?”

You stare at him for a long moment, biting the inside of your cheek. You slowly shake your head even though it feels beyond obvious that you are and…you can see him glance past you into your apartment where the half-empty bottle of tequila sits on your coffee table.

“Maybe…just a little.” You offer quietly. Fuck, fuck—you hope he’s not upset or disappointed and…there’s probably a way you can sober up real quick and still salvage the night, go to dinner like you’d planned. God, did you mess everything up? “I didn’t…it wasn’t on purpose.”

Austin shakes his head, carefully backing you up into your apartment and letting the door close behind him, “It’s okay,” And his voice is so soft, so understanding, that instantly your eyes pinprick with tears and a lump appears in your throat.

There are two versions of you when you drink: either you’re a snuggler or a crier, there’s really no in-between. You have a very bad feeling you’re adopting the latter right now.

“We don’t have to go out tonight,” His voice is very soothing, like he can tell you’re teetering on the edge right now. His palms rest on your shoulders, dragging his touch down your arms, “We can stay in—order food, s’really not a big deal.”

“But you wanted to go out,” You sniffle, hating how choked your voice sounds. Oh my god, this is seriously so embarrassing. You could kill Paige for bringing that tequila bottle into your bedroom in the first place—even though you know it’s your fault for overdoing it.

“I don’t need to go out,” He chuckles warmly, cupping your cheek.

His thumb brushes away a tear that falls, “I put lipstick on and everything.”

Austin hums, “And it looks beautiful.”

You swallow thickly, letting those words sit in your chest for a few moments. In your hazy state, you try and sift through his language, trying to figure out if he really means what he says or he’s just trying to placate you because you’re drunk and crying in the middle of your apartment. But…the longer you look into his blue eyes, the more stable you feel yourself becoming. Austin is grounding, he’s two feet firmly planted on the ground, he’s safe.

And you believe him.

You nod softly and close your eyes a moment, trying to stop the room from spinning. You feel him shift forward, pressing a long kiss to your hairline before he’s helping you to the couch to sit down. Kneeling in front of you, he unzips your booties, taking them off and setting them to the side.

“Really important question—breakfast or burgers?”

You blink, eyebrows drawing together in confusion until you remember he mentioned ordering food. Oh. “French toast and French fries.”

Austin smiles, nodding his head as he squeezes your knee and stands from the floor. “Course, why didn’t I think of that?”

As you lean back against the cushions of the couch, he wanders over to the kitchen to grab glasses of water. Bringing them back over, he sets them down on the coffee table before typing into his phone, most likely an Uber Eats order. You lean against the arm of the couch where a bunch of pillows are and wish more than anything you weren’t wearing this denim dress because it suddenly feels too tight.

“Your sweater is nice,” You comment after a moment, running a hand through your hair. “You could be dating a model or somethin’ you know, and you’re here with me.”

He blinks with the whiplash of conversation jumping, finishing up the order placement on his phone before setting it aside on the coffee table. Austin picks up the water to hand you, your fingers brushing as you take the glass from him and have a few large gulps.

“Why date a model when I could be with someone who has thirty unnecessary mugs in her kitchen cabinet?”

You smile suddenly, laughing, which makes the corners of his mouth pull up. “I have forty-five, and they’re all necessary.”

“Well even better.”

“You can make cinnamon rolls in mugs you know, like in the microwave? Like little mini-cakes,” You tell him matter-of-factly, “Clearly you have not considered this in bashing my collection.”

Austin shakes his head, taking a sip from his own water glass, “I obviously got a few things to learn.”

You hum, “I’ll show you tomorrow when my kitchen isn’t bein’ so rude and spinning like that.” Running a hand through your hair, you take another long sip of water, “Will you be here tomorrow?” You swallow, half expecting him to disappear at any moment. You also understand, even through the daze of tequila, that he’s a busy man with his own schedule. Just because you’re…like this does not mean he’ll be available tomorrow.

“I’ll be here,” He promises, “Got nothin’ to do tomorrow.”

That answer is really satisfying and you’re not sure whether you say that outloud or not, but Austin is smiling as he brushes your hair over your shoulder, standing to go towards the apartment door with his phone. The food he ordered must be here and damn that was fast.

The night moves on slowly or maybe not, it’s hard to tell. All you know is that one moment you’re shoving food in your face and miraculously not getting syrup or ketchup on your denim dress and then making your way to your bathroom to change your clothes and wipe your makeup off.

“No peaking.” You point at Austin but don’t even bother to close the door when you take your dress down.

Austin quickly turns away, a soft laugh leaving his throat, “Wouldn’t dream of it—lemme know if you need help though, alright?” And that…comment is totally acceptable because at one point you have to grab the corner of the sink so you don’t end up on the floor.

It takes you a moment to realize, when you walk out of the bathroom, that Austin just has a white t-shirt on now and you look down at what you’ve pulled on and that’s right. He’s given you that black, waffle-knit sweater he was wearing, to pull over your head. The sleeves are too long and it smells so much like him, cologne mixed with something distinctly Austin.

You hope he realizes he may never get this thing back.

There’s this moment as he pulls the sheets down on your bed that you know you want to kiss him, like—just plant one right on his lips, especially with how nice he’s been tonight. You think about it, you play it out in your head what you’d say or what it’d be like to just go for it. But you already know the type of man Austin is, and he’s not going to roll with it while you’re intoxicated…but you kinda like him all the more for that.

Instead, when he helps you between the sheets, you gently tug on his wrist before he leaves. “I really like that you wear sweaters and take cereal very seriously,” You plant a kiss on his cheekbone, letting the touch linger for a moment before pulling back, “Even though you talk shit on my mug collection.”

Austin laughs, the sound warm and it fills up your chest in the very best way. He pulls the blankets over your shoulder, saying something in response but you’re already asleep the minute your head hits the pillow.

Morning seems to come far too soon, sunlight sneaking in through the windows and blinds of your bedroom and smacking you directly in the face. You groan lightly, pressing your face into your pillow and attempting to make yourself smaller. The headache you’ve got pulsing in your temples somehow stretches outward and pulls at the muscles in your neck. Fuck, you’re going to die. This is terrible.

Bringing up a hand to rub at your eyes, you catch the scent of the sleeve and—sandalwood. You practically give yourself whiplash pulling your arm away, blinking at the sweater in question and oh my god, last night actually happened. And you don’t have the luxury of forgetting it, either, your drunken moments are usually imprinted on your memory in detail. While it wasn’t completely terrible, always can be worse, your very embarrassed at Austin arriving at your place for a date and there you are, drunk, a mess. Shaking your head, you squeeze your eyes shut.

At least he’s probably gone home by now and you can avoid him for however long it takes to reset your dignity.

Except—

Except the smell of coffee suddenly assaults your senses and your bedroom door cracks open…and Austin is there, with two cups of coffee, looking utterly adorable and slept on. He must have stayed over on the couch, hair a bit mussed but still attractive, cheeks warm with the imprint of pillows on one of them. You shake your head a little—this can not be happening.

He smiles a little when he sees you’re awake, moving to sit down on the bed near your hip. He places one of the cups of coffee on the nightstand and holds the other between his hands,

“Glad to see you’re alive.” He teases and you groan lightly in response, pinching the bridge of your nose because you’re not so sure. “You got a headache?”

You nod, no words forming on your tongue, but you feel the bed shift and Austin must get up to draw the blinds a bit tighter to prevent the light from spilling in. It helps a little when you fix your gaze on him again.

“It’s not fair that you look like that when you wake up,” Your voice is slightly strained, signs of sleep still imprinted on it.

He smirks moving to brush your hair out of your face, his fingers slipping along your jawline, “Drink the coffee, you’ll feel better.”

“Doubtful.” You mumble but do as you’re told, leaning against the headboard and taking the coffee cup into your hands to take a sip.

Honestly, you know you will start to feel better after the second cup of coffee and maybe a light breakfast. You’re not that hungover, but it’s moreso you feel ashamed about your behavior last night and you can’t believe this man not only stuck around but made coffee for you the next day. You swallow, looking down into the cup, not even sure what to say.

“I’m sorry—” You blurt out, looking up at him. Austin’s eyebrows draw together in light confusion, waiting for you to explain, “About last night, I did want to go out with you.”

He shakes his head, “Y/N,” A soft smile on his lips, “You really don’t have to apologize, there are plenty of other nights we can go out.”

Your forehead crinkles lightly as you move to set aside the coffee on the nightstand, stomach bubbling in butterflied nerves as you attempt to find the right words to explain. Even though you know Austin doesn’t need to hear it, you feel like the honesty is important,

“I just got caught up, I haven’t been on a date since…”

Austin fills in the blank, “Your ex.”

And God, you hate to have to bring him up again, to give his past actions so much power but…if you can’t be honest with yourself, you don’t think you’ll be able to move forward with anybody. You crinkle your nose, a soft frustrated noise that almost sounds like a laugh,

“I just panicked; I just so wanted our first date to be…perfect.” And you should know better than to use that word because nothing ever is. Not only that, you feel like you only made last night worse instead of what it could have been.

Austin reaches out to touch your hand, making sure you’re looking up at him when he says, “But it was, I was with you.”

Maybe that line would sound cheesy coming from anyone else, but there’s a genuine warmth that comes from Austin when he says it, so much so that it reaches inside your chest and squeezes. And suddenly you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward and kissing him, albeit quickly, to the corner of his mouth.

Austin doesn’t backdown from that, using the opportune moment to continue the kiss, cupping your cheek to give you a proper one. His lips move against yours slowly, patiently, drinking one another in. It’s one of the most addictive things you’ve ever felt. Your heartrate is in your ears when he pulls away and you can’t stop yourself from licking your own lips,

“Believe you mentioned somethin’ about cinnamon rolls in coffee mugs last night?”

You let out a soft laugh, nodding, before pulling the sheets back to start the day.

Really enjoyed adding a part 2 to this! thanks for reading or liking, reblogging, commenting, leaving asks! I really appreciate it :)

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #familiarity

408 notes · View notes

jokingmisfit · 9 months

Text

Yandere Eobard Thawne Abc’s

We’re gonna go ahead and say this is after everyone knows who he is. I’m planning to make a separate one for when he’s pretending to be Dr.Wells. I’m on and Eobard kick rn, so sorry. I love him.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Eobard is InTeNSe, in every sense of the word. However, he restrains himself often. He pretends he doesn’t like when you lay on him, but you’ll notice he pulls you into his lap, or squeezes your hips whenever he passes by, or how you always wake up pressed up against his so tightly even tho he apparently prefers to wake up before you. This man is always claiming to hate physical touch, but the second you’re not in his grasp he is all over you demanding you to get back into his arms.

Aside from his need for touch, Eobard will spend hours talking to you. Considering all of his knowledge, not just his future knowledge, he loves teaching you everything he can. He lives to see your impressed face and words of affirmation. This goes both ways, honestly, he loves to hear you ramble about your special interest(s).

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Everyone is dead. If they try to “take” you from him he’ll, simply, kill them. Sometimes, when he feels more sadistic or threatened, he’ll gift you the persons heart.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He would definitely mock them especially if you’re claiming Barry will save you. Eobard would however, also, try his best to make you as comfortable as possible. He can be impatient tho, so don’t keep harping on Barry saving you or you are being shoved into a wall not in a good way. He’s less patient; he took you cause he needed you now, so start complying soon.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Absolutely, Eobard’s always doing things you asked him not to. The only thing he wouldn’t do is force you into anything sex-wise.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He exposes his heart to you. Problem is that his heart is kinda shallow when it’s not his obsession with Flash or you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He thinks it’s kinda funny, kinda pathetic, and kinda upsetting. Keep going he can handle it, he’s sure you’ll tire yourself out eventually.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

A part of him finds it entertaining, but he also doesn’t want this to go on forever. However, this isn’t a game you’re his and his alone.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Probably the fact he most likely killed your friends and family.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

To continue ruining Barry’s life and come back home to you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

They’re dead. Whoever dared even look at you too long. You’re his. Eobard will kill them in an instance.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

In the beginning he’ll only kiss your wounds after you’re hurt most likely by him. After a while, Eobard will give you a quick kiss anytime he sees you. If you’re in a relationship where he didn’t kidnap you whenever he greets you and others are there he borderline makes-out with you, this also goes for whenever he sees you after being gone a while.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Flirting. The man has a silver tongue and he can be so sweet. He may be a bit deranged with little trinkets and gifts. For the most part tho he just uses his brilliant mind and perfect words.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

No, not really. The only thing he does differently is coddle you. He won’t do that really in front of too many people. Aside from that, he is practically the same. He’s overly angry, he picks on you, he taunts you and others, he is so goddamn dramatic, etc, etc.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He tries to keep it to things like tying you up and spanking, but he can get out of hand when angry. So Eobard may torture you and beat you up just to keep you from being “bad” or “unsafe”.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

All of them. Eobard will tie you down, lock you up, force feed you, pick out your clothes, etc, etc. This all depends on your attitude tho. If you “play nice” you get a decent bit of freedom.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He’s extremely patient, but he can only take so much. Like I said just don’t harp on the whole Flash saving the day thing and you should be good.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Oh, he’s so angry it’s not even funny, but he won’t move on. Eobard will destroy and rebuild and fuck up the timeline just to get you back and keep you. No matter what, he’ll have you back.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No, absolutely not. He wanted you and now that he has you, you’re not going anywhere. You’re persistence may get you some leeway but he’ll always be around and he IS faster than you.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

He’s, simply put, a mad man, and he’s lonely with all this hopping around.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Eobard’s a sadistic sociopath, however, he feels very deeply for you. With that he’s not a big fan of any of the three unless the screaming/crying is from something else 😏. If you need any of the three you can’t expect much in return, you’re causing an internal conflict in him. After you’re done he’ll be extra “sweet”, he’s trying at least, to make you feel better.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He won’t kill you, but he will cripple you for life and leave you like you never existed. Remember Rose.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

None. His only real weakness is the Flash and Eobard hid you well enough that there is no escaping. You’re doomed.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

He would, but he will always patch you up afterwards. You just needed him to help you right, so now you’ll be a good little pet, right?

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He certainly worships you, but it’s odd because he doesn’t act like he does, only in his most intimate moments. He feels like everything he does is something worth bragging about, and he doesn’t really care about winning you over as long as he has you.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Eobard’s a patient man, however he has a bad temper. All it really takes is an unprompted flirt towards you for him to snap. If you are flirting with him and him only he’ll probably hold on longer.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Absolutely, Eobard is so lonely. After so many years of only feeling hatred, he needs you, in any way he can have you, even if it means you’re not quite the same.

#yandere eobard thawne #yandere eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne #eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne imagine #yandere reverse flash #yandere reverse flash x reader #reverse flash #the flash #the flash cw #yandere abcs

78 notes · View notes

queen-of-elves · 1 year

Text

Under the moon

Steven grant x fem!reader

Soulmate AU

Epilogue

Summary: You always thought you were alone, without a soulmate, but the universe loves surprises.

Word count: almost 3K

Warnings: sweet but very angsty? I tried lol, some swearing etc.

A/N: Y/S - soulmark of your choosing, I didn’t want to choose a soulmark that represents Y/N. :) btw the timeline is way off and apparently I don’t care about it so

P.S.: to this day I am still thinking about Soulmate AU w Bucky Barnes (read it at least 5 years ago) where reader is only soulmate of Winter Soldier, so this is sort of inspired, and for the love of me I can’t find the fanfiction, therefore if someone would be so lovely and let me know if you recognize it from my poor summary.

Since you were born, you were one of the unlucky few, without a soulmate, without your second half. It was not that bad actually, not that bad as everyone tends to imagine. You can’t really miss something you don’t have, what you actually never had, can you?

Where everyone's wrist was decorated by a mark of their soulmate, something that represented them on a personal level, you had a blank space. Where your wrist was meant to be grazed by ink and color, there was absolutely nothing. It never really bothered you, you had your little quiet life and that was enough for you. Living in a world full of superheroes and aliens kinda does that to you.

However, from time to time the realization of your situation overwhelms you, hits you really low, just like now. One of your friends, Marcy, invited you for a celebration party of them finding their soulmate. It happened like in those romantic movies, or that’s what she tells everyone. One look and they knew, didn’t even have to check their soulmarks.

Lucky.

Marcy and Tom were adorable; you couldn’t deny it, all heart-eyes and little kisses. And yes, there was joy in your heart for them but the sting of jealousy every time you saw them was apparent. Heavy on your chest was the sadness you were meant to carry alone for the rest of your life.

The thought of soulmates started to consume your mind more often then you have anticipated after the announcement from Marcy. You expected to think about it from time to time, sure, the whole world was obsessed with them after all, but you? Not so much. However, Marcy constantly posted and talked about her amazing relationship with Tom even though they met just two weeks ago. And it just pissed you off. Never ever have you felt like this, even in middle school where kids happily showed each other their soulmate marks, leaving you feeling bad about the blank skin, or in college when everyone started to meet their soulmates.

This party is going to be a nightmare. Fuck.

***

The party was worse than a nightmare, even though you love Marcy to death, she was insufferable. Clinging to Tom the whole time and everytime the conversation wasn’t about them she would gladly navigate it back. You suppose that’s how everyone with a newly discovered soulmate acts, they are their world afterall.

You have spent the rest of the party hiding away from her, because you could handle talking about soulmates only to some degree, and drinking, happily and heavily drinking! Alcohol often makes you warm and fuzzy so why not now, you had needed that to cheer you up.

And at the end of the long night Marcy couldn’t let you leave, probably after seeing you mix gin and tonic into a big bowl and then putting a colorful straw into it. Sometimes you were not really proud of your drinking habits...

So after everyone left, Marcy told you to go sleep on her couch, draped a blanket over you and put a bucket next to your lying form. It sort of reminded you of one of those sleepovers you used to have when you were both in middle school.

This would have been a magnificent last thought before closing your eyes and going to sleep if it weren’t for the annoying tingling sensation on your skin.

If she has bed bugs on her couch, I will kill her. You thought, opening your eyes and vigorously scratching your arm while you sat up. And when the haze dissolved and you could finally turn your focus on your wrist. You couldn't believe your eyes.

Soulmark, your own soulmark. One second there was nothing and now a crescendant shape was adoring your wrist in a black outline. The waxing crescent staring at you in its hollow beauty, insolent mark of universe on your life.

“No-,” you stared unmovingly down at your arm, whispering softly as if saying it louder would erase it,”-way.” You felt like breaking down, now of all times you have a soulmate? Were they born now? Or did they lose their soulmate and the universe assigned you together? So many questions and even the internet could answer only a few, plus Marcy’s wifi was shit so it took a horrendous amount of time to find anything.

But in the end, even the palpation in your chest had yet to stop and tears kept on running down the slope of your cheeks, when the thought struck you. You had someone you were meant to be with, a SOULMATE.

***

The revelation of having a mark happened a few months ago and nothing has changed since, crescendant moon mark still on and slightly less mocking by now.

You had quite the thought about it and you decided that it was… fine, just fine. People have soulmates, it's a thing, so it's… FINE, right? Yeah, you were kinda panicking about it.

Why now of all the time?

Also was London always so cheerful? The stereotypical image of gloomy streets with a rainy haze contradicting the one you were rushing through. It was late afternoon and the streets were buzzing with people, the veins of the city working steadily, keeping the whole organism alive. Maybe your mood would be better if the weather was gloomy, if people were all irritated and nasty. Then it would make more sense for you to be annoyed with your life.

This one time the universe decided to listen to your wishes, a harass push sent you flying backwards, stumbling into the person standing behind you, both of you tumbling on the dirty pavement of the bus stop. The gravel scraped one of your palms but otherwise your fall was cushioned by the person behind you.

Universe just couldn’t give you a break, it seemed.

“Oh my, you alright? Let me just-,” hand extended to help you up with your tote bag already picked up and dusted off in the other.” help you up. There.” The sting in your palm distracted you from any further examination of the extended arm in front of you. And before you could blink again, you were at your feet with your silly little tote bag bestowed in your hand. Well almost-, your knight in shining armor noticed scraps of gravel entombed in your skin and a tenuous stream of blood trickling down, before he could hand it to you fully. “Oh my, that looks nasty.” If you haven’t realized before, now you have, his voice was the sweetest thing ever, like it was wrapping you in a blanket and shushing you to go back to sleep, that kind of sweet.

God, do I have a concussion? At this idea you jumped away from him, giving him quite the scare.

The realization hits you quite slowly, soulmark, your soulmark was grazing his tanned wrist and intertwined with Y/S. Oh, so there he was, your soulmate.

It took him just a few seconds to come to the same conclusion and now his eyes were bulging out of its sockets, staring bewildered at your mark, while his mark was peeking from under his coat’s sleeve.

This was it, wasn't it? The moment in which you absolutely knew that no matter what happens you can't get on without this feeling. You felt so warm and happy like never before, as if you had seen the sun for the first time. Was it the same for everyone or was it just you? Maybe it was a no-soulmate-before thing and to experience being in the presence of your soulmate was just too much for those like you. Your heart was beating very fast, sprinting miles to nowhere… was it also normal? All of this seemed so unusual. Perhaps you were dying, cardiac arrest is always on the table, isn’t it?

And then he smiled and all of it got more intense, more sunshine in your life, the warmth spreading through you now scorching your insides and you couldn’t get enough of it.

He stood slumped, the coat hanging on him, trying to hide his figure completely to unwanted attention, but still framing him in your adoring gaze as the most handsome man in the whole vast world.

“Please be real.” Whisper left your lips before you could register that your mouth opened. This seemed to brighten his mood even more, your comment not weirding him out at all. As if for him it was an acceptable norm, to doubt the existence of human beings standing in front of him.

************

“I don't understand it. So we got magically assigned together? Aren’t soulmates designed from birth?”

“I am just as stumped as you. Honestly, all of this is a bit bonkers!” He exhaled as if out of absolute relief, contradicting his words.

You and Steven were now sitting on an ugly painted park bench near the bus stop. And while the conversation was not smoothly pacing as you had anticipated and in your nervous state you kept peeling off the chipped green paint from the metal bench, Steven was very polite. He told you his name right after the two of you labeled each other as real people, not just a construct of your lonely minds (and lack of sleep in Steven’s case).

And now that you had time to fully look at him, you deemed your soulmate as the most handsome man in the whole world. Dark unruly hair falling into his eyes seemed too fluffy to your liking, maybe it was the need to touch it that made you lovingly hate it. You really loved to look at him, as if he was a piece of art even though his posture was never changing, clothes hanging on his frame as if trying to hide him and oftentimes it seemed as if his tongue was not adjusted to speak in such a way.

He fits perfectly in your life but in his, in some odd way he seemed to struggle to adjust.

So, from your first interaction with your soulmate you have gathered only a little information, obviously his name, the fact that he works in a gift shop in the National Art Gallery and his undying love for Egyptian mythology. As the conversation moves on you have yet to check off any of the boxes in your red flag list, so far so good then. It also did not end up with just Steven talking about himself, he asked you a ton of questions (he later apologized for it ‘cause he felt like he was simply intruding) which not a lot of guys do, based on your narrow experience with blind dates and stuff like Tinder.

And as time flew by you realized Steven’s lovely brown irises never left you, not even for a split second did his attention shift, as if in his eyes you were the sun. Well he for sure was in yours, warm and light gifting sphere, from now on the center of your universe.

**************

It has been weeks since you have met him and so far everything was going great, more than great, Steven was nothing but sweetheart to you but still there was the milestone of spending a night at one’s place was still yet to be crossed. When this question first came, Steven seemed hesitant at the idea of spending the night at someone else’s place or maybe it was about you. Maybe he was hesitant about you spending the night as his?

You basically mutually decided that this part of dating could wait, there is no race to be won so why to rush it, right? This seemed to soothe the worry rising in both of you. And there were other bridges to be crossed so you both turned your attention to them.

Steven was a sweetheart since the start of you two, could you actually call it dating tho? Neither of you have spoken out about it, setting in the borders of the relationship. Yes, objectively speaking how you spend the time with your soulmate would be sorted into the category of dating but neither of you have called your meetings a date yet. It was nerve wracking, simply dancing around the topic in every conversation, you trying not to make him uncomfortable and Steven in the same position but on the opposite side.

You couldn’t take it anymore and you were done being anxious over something so silly. So you took the first step and texted him.

You thought that the giggling and kicking your legs in the air era was done by the time you turned 20 and apparently it was not. Keeping your excitement over him was too hard for you to contemplate over even attempting at it. Steven just made your heart buzz with a newfound energy.

It was impossible to imagine someone else as your soulmate, it was even more inimaginable to try to picture someone more perfect than the lovely museum gift shopist. ‘Cause Steven’s never ending politeness sometimes caught you off guard, he opened doors for you, bought you flowers and even sweet little pastries from the expensive bakery near his flat. You could not fathom how he could be insecure about himself, every single woman you knew would have died for Steven of their own.

You couldn’t imagine someone more perfect, maybe because Steven was just the definition of perfect.

**********************

You were in ecstasy, you finally sort of convinced Steven to spend the night at your place. Fully innocent idea of movie night with the hope of it turning into a some kind of sleepover. He didn’t seem so eager but movie night sounded too good to his ears for declination. And yes, you two had the deal and all, however it’s been almost three weeks and the impatience in both of you started to rise to the surface.

Everything was ready, finding the movie Steven talked about last week was the only and the biggest obstacle in your journey for a full night with Steven as a company but even that you have successfully conquered.

Nothing could have stopped you now, nothing could have ruined your excellent mood tonight. Well, there was one thing, this feeling that something terrible was on the horizon, a sort of hunch that something was not quite right. You tried to push it deep inside, to not think about it but the feeling persisted. So you kept busy, waiting at first patiently for Steven’s arrival and then very impatiently pacing the floor of your flat, still keeping the appearance of being busy. Checking if you had his favorite tea in the cupboard, enough popcorn or inspecting the cleanliness of the coffee table on which you have placed snacks for you two.

He was late, he always was a bit late, well, he was always late and usually it was not a bit. Waiting sort of became your strong suit after meeting Steven, so you sat down on the sofa checking your phone to see how late he was.

And then you saw it, a bad omen. This had to be a nightmare, was the universe playing a cruel trick on you? Has nothing of it been real? Had you only dreamed of him the whole time?

No, it was real. Your still dirty beige tote bag laying on the kitchen counter strengthened the conviction of your senses that the encounter with your soulmate, and he, himself, were real. However your wrist was now bare, disproving all of it again. You felt nothing though, no pain in your wrist, absolutely nothing that would indicate change.

You were positioned at the start again, fresh clean start insisting that nothing happened, so what if you imagined him and the soulmark the whole time. Nothing changed, you could never feel lost for something you never had, right?But you had him, he was yours and he was real.

Shivering from the sudden drops, cold like ice, rolling down the sides of your neck and staining your sleeping shirt, you realized how this thought process was wrong. All of it was wrong. You felt him, it had to be real, you shouldn’t doubt his existence.

You felt stuck. Skin petrified in the momentum where you could still doubt if the universe was having a laugh over you or if all of this was just a big misunderstanding, somehow.

And only the moon now stands to you as a companion, looking down at you from the dark night sky and casting every surface in gentle glow with the soft light passing through the room, reflecting on every metal.

So under the light of your only faithful companion you weep for your lost love. The universe for sure loved being cruel.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #mcu #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #mcu fanfiction #oscar isaac x reader

199 notes · View notes

arrowsinmyskull · 1 year

Text

“i’ll never love again, i’m so in love with you.”

— yan oc concept : yan ! ex s/o ! singer x gender-neutral ! reader —

[usage of you/your pronouns. there are no mentions of 3rd person pronouns for you, even in dialogue.]

TW: obsessive behaviors, s/h (self harm) implications, kidnapping implications, its a little vulgar (if you dont like swearing), writing that was done late at night implications, my grammar probably got a liiittle too silly but thats ok i think i have cool grammar without double-checking if i put enough effort cause im cool like that <3 /j

a/n: i swear to god i keep writing crusty musty mfs madly in love but thats okay apparently my professional “writing concept judge” called me a genius. & said thta those asmr artists who do yan asmr would probably bow down to me which im scared of lolz. anywyas enjoy the result of my sleep deprivation & desperate attempts to try oil painting which made me spiral into insanity :insert that kissy emoji i forgot: ALSO ALSO idk if this’ll get popular but i sorta wanna give ‘em a name ohohoho

—————

ight listen: you knew em from middle school,, okay, & you grew up together from that point,. they caught feelings in highschool

they confessed a few months after catching feelings & you were like “omg me 2!!!”

so you guys were highschool sweethearts for a bit :)

oh, but school is a terrible thing for many. it could’ve been any cause like the following, but not limited to: your peers convinced you that they were too good for you, or vice versa.. maybe schoolwork was too overwhelming.. maybe you had to put more focus on your individuality to get better academically..

maybe you just fell out of love.

you two broke up when you guys were in your college years.

they didn’t show up for days after the break-up.. & nobody heard from them during those days. no one knew why, but some had a hunch if was due to your seperation. you guessed the same. guess what? your guesses were right.

they returned after a long while, although.. something was up. they were., wearing really baggy clothes..? that wasn’t like them. everything was covered..

if their sleeves rolled up, you’d see slits on their forearms. you guessed you were the cause of the wounds.

they showed up like nothing happened, but after some weeks passed.. they dropped out.

next thing you know, there’s an uprising indie musician who sings their heart out regarding heartbreak. they’re getting popular, their songs are nice, an—oh, what do you know? it’s. your. damn. ex. singing about you.

ugh, dawg,,, what in the sour by olivia rodrigo is this? these r fucking emo break-up songs (which lowkey go hard but it took vv long for u to admit) that is obvi a cry for you to come back to them

i mean.. these songs kinda fire even if theyre begging for you to love the singer again. you just know they chose to write songs in your fav genre because it'd have a higher chance of you noticing their work & even liking their work.. well, it seemed to have been a success. you are jamming to their songs so hard.

oh n if i’m being honest, this person has always gone all out for you, whether y’all were friends, besties, lovers, or exes, they did everything in their power to be perfect *for you*.

so ..... when you saw them concerts they were all FLASHY and it seems the lights were always your favorite color, their outfits matched your exact taste in fashion, it was basically like your dream stage in terms of aesthetics. you bet they catered to your tastes for you only.

you wanted to attend their concert. you began looking for the nearest concert of theirs and.... WHAT????????

there's a concert in your area, on your birthday exactly. they... didn't forget about you, huh? they knew damn well where you lived & that your special day was coming up soon.

you got tickets anyway. to hell with it all babyy

skip to when your long awaited bday rolls around!! you're putting on your coolest fuckin outfit because you really do put your all into making sure you enjoy a concert. from using the clothes you love most to making sure you get front row views.

ok i pull up hop out at the concert of my now popular ex lover,,, oh and you got a backstage pass. you don't know if it was a mistake but yippee you can see your fav artist who probably never forgot about your breakup but um... just ignore that then

you got into the concert venue & it is so so awesome looking!!! they r totally not gonna lose their shit now that ur here!! now transition into a drabble/scenario i don't know lmao

the lights blared in all of the colors they damn well knew you loved. the first concert of your current favorite singer. you were immediately guided to a luxurious bench with the best view of the concert, reserved just for you. it seems that there was a blatant special guest amongst the audience, & that special guest just so happened to be you. the love of their life, the one they never ever got over. your suspicions about that matter was just proven to be true, but you denied it. they're mature, they would've never done this much for a former significant other.. right? yeah, no, you are dead wrong.

they want you back, & with the fame they have acquired, they are devoting everything they have to just getting you back. it takes a while for them to get on stage, but they rise like a deity. the iridescent hues of the stage lights shine on them, highlighting all their gorgeous features. they changed themself immensely, it seems. the aesthetic, their face, absolutely everything.. those changes have all been made for you to love them more.. & more.. until both of you are hurt & sore just from singing praises for too long, just from giving affection without even a second wasted without unbridled shows of what can only be called passion—pure, primal, passion. their eyes search through the crowd, checking if you’re in the VIP seat, or if you’re anywhere in the roaring audience at all. ‘ah, there you are.. you, oh-so flawless sovereign, you..’ unhinged cries of desperation runs through their thoughts, as they suppress the twisted grin creeping onto their face. they snap out of their daze when they start to realise they’re simply staring at you.

“hit it!”

the music is.. quite new. the same genre, of course, to keep everything the exact way they knew you’d like it. however, it seems nobody recognises the song. it seems to be unreleased, without even a demo. it is quite beautiful, though, so you hope they’ll release it soon. it also appears that the lyrics are no longer of heartbreak, or of unrequited love. all they’re singing about is reunion, reciprocated romance, all the good things. there are even covers of love songs, & they are the favorites of the both of you! but why is this happening? when you watched all the other concerts, it was never like this. what is so special? why is everything switched up? what is the reason behind all this?

…you hear the mention of your name in their song. it clicked. it clicked at last.. the reason is simply.. you. it’s all because you’re here, that they’re all like this. looks like they’re feeling giddy, like getting butterflies right now, & you’re the cause, huh..? they’re keeping their eyes on you while they belt their heart out, then they took notice of the pink subtly dusting your cheeks amidst the audience & their cheers. they shoot a smile & wink in your direction as they pray to whatever deity is out there that you saw them do so. 3 hours of poetic love songs all written in your name pass, then the roars & cheers die down once they finish off the encore. their gloved hands run through their glistening hair, giving an exhausted smile at everyone. you try to get up, forgetting about your sudden VIP backstage pass from earlier, but you get restrained by the ‘special chair’. it seems that they want to keep you around for a while longer.

the sound of their expensive leather shoes clacking against the floor echoes through the now-empty concert venue. “hello, my darling! where have you been for so long, hm?”

they beam at you with the same award-winning smile from when you two were highschool sweethearts. you try to suppress your smile when you reminisce about the old days.. & try to stay a bit distant. despite your attempt to hide that you missed seeing that warm expression, they picked up on how you looked at them with an ever-so subtle hint of longing for what once was. their soft hand takes a hold of yours as they let you go from the restraints, firmly but gently making sure that you stay. their thumb caresses the back of your hand like they always did when you held eachother at the movies. your fingers intertwine as they help you get up, so that they can lead you backstage. they acted so intimate, as if you two were still dating. to them, you really are. nothing changed, right? just a few years of unbearable distance, that’s all! they never stopped being your lover, after all…

you were brought backstage, & it was all silent. nobody was around, as everyone else was shooed out beforehand, since “they could take it from here”.. whatever that meant to the staff. you were immediately placed on their lap, as they whispered sweet, obsessive nothings. you knew damn well, though, that those sweet nothings definitely hinted to something. there was definitely something sinister behind the adoring praise which spilled from their lips.

“oh, do you know how much i’d do for you, how much i love you?”

“i’d bring the world down in your name. are you not aware of that, my love?..”

“when you entered my life, when we became more than boring ol’ friends, oh, i felt so loved! did you know that?”

“..you.. you did? then why’d you leave, huh? i know you didn’t leave me for dead, ‘cause, darling, i just know you’d never do that to me!”

“so, why did you choose to go?”

you tense up at the last question. the temptations to fall apart & sob as you blabber about everything that happened crept up on you, but you were wary, as it seems that even as a person of massive fame, they were still the same obsessive ex you saw before they moved away. so, you tried to lie, but they saw right through it. with enough coaxing, all the events spilled out. from your thoughts to the outside influences, secrets were flowing as though they were a waterfall while you rested & bawled in their arms, & on their chest, where you most definitely belong. once you calmed down from enough shushing & cuddling, you smiled at eachother. you felt comforted, even though you were being told in the back of your mind that this is all so wrong. the moment itself felt so right, so who gives a shit? they kissed you tenderly, in the exact same manner they always did if you two were apart for too long. to them, yes, it really just was a simple heart-felt reunion. you just spent time away from eachother! it was never a break-up! so, why not just stick around now? it seems you suffered so much without them by your side..

they whispered in-between soft kisses placed all over you. “it seems to have all been so petty! now, how about you stay here for good this time?”

—————

DAWG THIS WAS STUCK IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG BYE IM SHOWING THIS TO MY HOMIE

#yandere #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #yancore #yandere x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere oc #[tears of depravity: oc concept]#yandere oc x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere singer

73 notes · View notes

patternwelded-quill · 2 months

Text

Myka's (New) Intro!

I'm going to make me a fresh

Writblr Intro

Just like revising a story!

I kinda-sorta did before, but not really, so here's a new one. I'll also be rolling the status updates for my fanfics in here for those of you following me for my apparent obsession with Ranma and elves...

My name is Myka, she/her. Nice to meet you!

I'm a trans swordsmith, armorer, jeweler, and watchmaker. I'm also an artist and author, and like all creatives, I have my days where I love my works and days where I hate them and think they're trash. For example, I did the trans flag colors on the rank pips of my PFP, but they're too tiny to see, so I'm planning to redo it out of frustration!

I'm here to build friendships and community. So feel free to send me a message or an ask about metalwork if you're looking for answers or curious. Tag games are great, too, I try to get to them within a day or so of the notif.

Original Works:

Red Angel Saga (Irae, Interitus, Impere): The story of Relarial, an elven mercenary warlord and grandmother, as she attempts to avenge the death of her family, recover from that terrible loss, and return to some semblance of a life she understands. Rated R (for Relarial, hah!) for ultraviolence and the fact that she can't avoid constant profanities.

-Status: Book 1 is being revised/rewritten, book 2 is rough drafted, and book 3 is outlined and halfway drafted.

Blades of Fate (Iron Fist in a Velvet Glove): Captain Malekah Thaynn was a divisive figure, known to some as a hero and others as the 'Butcher of Borderwatch.' The latter helped get her tossed into a dark hole for years until someone thought she'd be useful to their ambitions. But you don't pick up the epithet of a butcher of anything by playing nice with assholes.

-Status: Book 1 is a rough drafted hot mess, but it's my hot mess, I guess.

Fanfiction:

Wet Behind the (Long) Ears: What if Ranma was knocked into the 'Spring of Drowned *Elf* Girl'?

-Status: Chapters 1-6 posted. The rest of the first arc is rough drafted, aprox. 35-40k words. Chapter 7 is a mess but coming together!

The Stone Will Sing: Thematic companion to WB(L)E. Maybe Ranma's so short as a girl is because it was a young dwarf girl who drowned in Nyannichuan. Or perhaps the Khazad didn't die out, but vanished as a distinct race. Worldbuilding crossover with LoTR.

-Status: First chapter posted, linked above. Will add more as the muse demands. If this fic doesn't piss off some Tolkien scholars, I didn't do my job right.

Twice the Curse? Double the Fun!: Ranma discovers that P-chan is actually his old frenemy Ryoga. But somehow the Lost Boy managed to get himself *two* Jusenkyo curses. ...or, did he? One-shot for muffinmoonn.

-Status: Drafting, using as a nice palate cleanser when I get stressed with other writing.

Once We Were Warriors: OC Relarial is isekai'd into a 1996 Tokyo shared by Ranma 1/2 and Sailor Moon. This was prompted by a convo w/ a friend about our OCs as Senshi.

-Status: Book 1 is posted on A03, book 2 is rough drafted, and book 3 is being outlined.

#writblr #writers of tumblr #queer writers #trans writers #writblr intro #original works #fanfiction #ao3 writer #ao3 link #once we were warriors #owww #wb(l)e #wet behind the (long) ears

10 notes · View notes

blushweddinggowns · 1 year

Note

#12, ugly Christmas sweaters, please.

Eddie, unsurprisingly, was not a huge fan of Christmas. He didn’t really hate it per say, at least not anymore. Sure, from ages one to twelve they were pretty hellish, but ever since he came to live with Wayne, Christmas was kinda nice.

They were broke as fuck, so it’s not like Eddie ever had much under the tree, but Wayne would always scrounge up enough to get him a few things. He’d also make the best chocolate chip pancakes ever, their own version of Christmas dinner, which was secretly Eddie’s favorite part.

Twelve years of bad holidays and nine of good equated to Eddie being relatively neutral about the whole thing. His ambivalence on the holiday had never been much of an issue.

Until now.

Because Eddie decided to fall for a man who had a Christmas-obsessive best friend. A Christmas-obsessed best friend that had his boyfriend wrapped around her finger.

Technically, Steve had warned him about this. But he didn’t expect her antics to start in November. Because apparently, the planning for a holiday ugly sweater party with homemade ugly sweaters was extensive. At first, Eddie was certain it was an idea she randomly had while high as a kite, but no, it was a Buckley family tradition. And this year, Robin decided that their little group of weirdos were officially part of the family.

And that sentiment was too adorable for even Eddie to make fun of. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. Because the making of twelve ugly sweaters included the enlistment of Steve’s help, and the enlistment of Steve's help meant that Eddie wasn't allowed to completely hog his weekends anymore.

The guy was learning how to knit for this fucking thing, and that took time. Hell, even when he got to see him, Steve brought the knitting needles with him, and Eddie had to fight with freaking yarn to get his attention. And it was a losing battle. Steve always shut down any complaining, with some variation of the speech, "Babe, I got her kidnapped by Russians and almost eaten by demons. All in less than two years. The least I can do for her is knit a damn sweater."

Not to mention how he was so weirdly secretive about the whole thing. Anytime Eddie tried to get a look at what he was doing he was rebuffed, and Steve had had the audacity to kick him out of his own living room more than once.

But the day before the party finally arrived, and it marked the end of Steve's obsessive knitting tear. Eddie thought he'd be relieved the whole thing was over, but he'd been fidgety and anxious all night.

Eddie was just on the edge of teasing him over being such a nervous wreck over sweaters when Steve stood from the couch, nervously announcing that he had something for him.

He dug behind a couch cushion, pulling out a cheap little green gift bag with bright red tissue paper. He dropped it into Eddie's lap with a nervous smile, "Open it."

Eddie felt the bag up with a smile, immediately guessing what it was.

“I thought the Buckley tradition was to open them in a group?” Eddie asked, tearing away at the tissue paper, "Did you get Robin's permission for a holiday transgression?"

Steve shrugged, chewing his nails while he watched Eddie pull it out, “Well, she helped me make it so she's vaguely aware. But…I want you to see it now. Uh, without an audience.”

It was every Christmas color jammed into one ugly sweater. Red, green, white, and blue, all in horizontal stripes. It was impressively bad and Eddie was more than ready to start laughing at it.

But then he turned it around.

The bright red words were knitted in sloppily, but they were clear enough to make Eddie's jaw drop.

I Love You Eddie Munson

Eddie stared at it, mind coming to a complete halt. They...hadn't said that to each other yet. Eddie had thought it sure, probably a million times by now, but he had been too chicken shit to say it out loud himself, always worried about scaring Steve away.

But here it was, staring him in the face.

Steve was gnawing on his lower lip as watched him stare at it, getting more and more anxious by the second, “I-I thought it would be…endearing? But you don’t have to say anything back! It was a stupid- idea.”

"This is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Eddie interrupted, embarrassingly close to tears, “I have never wanted to hate something more.”

He clutched it to his chest, looking up at Steve with a wet laugh, “I love it. I love you, you fucking dork.”

Steve grinned back at him, obviously relieved.

"It took me like a month to make. You better like it!" He laughed, pulling Eddie into a hug, "And I promise, you only have to wear it once."

Eddie shook his head against Steve's shoulder, still holding onto his new favorite piece of clothing for dear life.

That little shake was the only warning Steve was going to get, because if he thought that Eddie was going to only wear it for Christmas parties, then he had another thing coming.

The I love you sweater became a winter wardrobe regular for years to come, clashing colors be damned. Eddie ignored all offers Steve made to make one that wasn't hideous and never missed a chance to explain what it meant to anyone who asked.

But despite how much Eddie loved it, Robin was the real winner of the gift. Because Eddie never complained about her kidnapping Steve during the holidays again.

#steddie ficlet #steddie #i am an embarssing corny person and im sorry #i can't not do the fluff #thank you for requesting!#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddiemas #i got a little loose with the prompt but an ugly sweater is featured!

126 notes · View notes

iavulture · 26 days

Text

It might seem crazy what I'm 'bout to say, but...

Recently I brought up two thoughts about Despicable Me 4 with a friend of mine over on Discord, specifically about Gru Jr. In fact, I've been thinking about it for a few days now, but it does tie into an idea I've been obsessed with to the point that I wrote a fanfic related to it.

… Namely, that Gru's son will be someone special, and that he probably will be an AVL agent when he grows up. Probably in a hypothetical sequel/spin-off series that I personally like to call "Agent Gru" (creative, I know, but just stick w/ me).

Now I know that the movie hasn't been out yet, and that this post could possibly be rendered moot in the future, but why don't we indulge in some speculation, shall we?

Thought #1:

Okay, this is more of an observation than anything, but I found it interesting that Gru Jr. has blue eyes and red hair, just like his father and mother respectively. I've done a bit of digging, and I found out that blue eyes + red hair is apparently a very rare combination of eye color + hair color traits. According to this article, about 0.17% of the human population has this combination, making Jr. unique in that regard.

(I even joked that the powers that be in the Despicable Me/Minions universe saw Gru's family and, after Gru and Lucy did it, really said: "You shall be blessed with a son, and so you shall have children with all of the natural hair colors." Additionally, the powers that be also decided that said son should win the genetics lottery and gave him a rare combination of traits. Which leads me to a question: if red hair is a recessive trait, what part of Gru's side of the family had red hair that led him to be a carrier of that recessive gene? I'm probably just overthinking it, but it's something interesting to think about, y'know?)

Ofc, there's also the possibility that the hair color/eye color might change as he grows up, but I digress.

tl;dr Gru's son is special because of his unique combination of phenotypes.

Which sort of leads into…

Thought #2:

Okay, here's the real meat of my crazy idea/speculation, and it starts with an observation of two characters from DM1 and DM2.

Remember Vector? (DM1)

Or Antonio? (DM2)

You notice any similarities between these two?

If not, I'll say it.

Vector is the biological son of Mr. Perkins.

And Antonio is the biological son of Eduardo Perez aka El Macho.

And bc Rule of Three seems to be in order, Gru Jr. is the biological son of Gru, thus three supervillains (well, more like two villainous characters and one who turned good anyway) are fathers with biological sons.

But wait! That's not the most interesting observation that I have about them. It's actually…

… Where the sons fall on the morality scale, though it's currently debatable where Jr. will lie. So get this.

Vector is a full-on villain, as he's the main antagonist of DM1

I see Antonio as the "neutral" son, bc he's not exactly villainous like his dad; the worst he does is break Margo's heart in DM2, but otherwise he's kinda a normal kid

Which leads me to this idea: what if Gru Jr. is the "good" son of the trio? Like…

I can't see him becoming a villain like his dad once was (remember that Gru stole things in order to try and impress his neglectful mother!), and seeing how he acts around Lucy and how she seems to handle the kids (she's better than Marlena ofc), I kinda see him as a bit of a momma's boy rather than someone with mommy issues like his dad once did. Overall, he's born into a loving family whose members care for each other very much to where the only realistic reason as to why he would become bad is through a bad outside influence.

At the bare minimum, he'll grow up to be an ordinary guy w/ an ordinary life, but I honestly can't see that bc 1) his family circumstances don't exactly add up to an ordinary life (his parents are AVL agents for one thing) and 2) unless Illumination gets tired of the DM/Minions 'verse, I can't see them settling on an ordinary character as a protagonist. I mean, can you imagine if Jr. was the head of a jelly/jam business just like what Gru was trying to do at the start of DM2?

In other words, I don't really believe he'll be a villain or an ordinary guy. Like, there's little to nothing that could possibly lead him to either of those paths, unless something drastic happens in 4 or in another movie that has him. I think it's more likely he'll be actively on the side of good and be smth like an AVL agent like his parents. Plus, and I know this might be a bit harsh in regards to the girls, but I can (realistically) see him being the next-gen main character of the series. At the same time, though, I do hope that he gets to interact w/ his older sisters in DM4 and beyond (whatever that'll be like); hell, in the fic that I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I imagined him and Edith to be in the AVL, with Edith being like a weapons/gadget specialist like Q from James Bond with an additional enthusiasm for fighting (and I also imply that she might've taught him a few things along the way, such as fighting skills).

Oh, and one last thing: considering that Jr. has a scarf like his protagonist parents (I don't count minor characters w/ scarves like Antonio here), it's likely that he will be a protagonist in DM4 and possibly even future movies after it. (Apparently having one automatically gives you a high chance to be a protag in this 'verse? I joke, but y'know…)

So… yeah. Sorry for the long post, but I just had to get this off my chest since it's been nagging me for a little while now.

#despicable me #despicable me 4 #theory #long post #gru jr

7 notes · View notes

djarins-cyare · 3 months

Text

Get to Know Me (tag game)

Thanks @burntheedges and @sydneyinacoma for the tags! 💖

I guess I don’t post much about myself on here, so behold the mystery of Jyar’ika revealed under the cut (because I waffle and didn't wanna take up y’all’s dashes)…

Ahh space to include GIFs (*is happy*)...

1. Were you named after anyone? Hmm, that’s a sneaky way to get a name reveal outta me. Alright, I don’t mind… apparently one of the hosts on Blue Peter (the longest-running children’s TV show in the world - you’re not getting an age reveal outta me too!) had a baby just before I was born. Why my parents were watching a children’s TV show I have no idea, but this host evidently wrote/sang some kinda song on air about calling her baby daughter Jemma with a J not Gemma with a G. So I was named after a terribly trite and obscure TV reference that nobody will ever remember. You may call me Jem if you wish, my friends all do, and if you’re bothering to read this then you’re in that category.

(If you're wondering about the GIF, the show was always broadcast live and they had several pets. The outtakes are numerous.)

2. When was the last time you cried? I think I’m weird… I don’t tend to cry? Or only if I’m really really upset. Maybe I’m Cameron Diaz in The Holiday? So yeah, I can’t actually remember 🤔.

3. Do you have kids? Nope, although it’s a fairly recent decision to not have them. I spent much of my life assuming I wanted kids until I realised I had been conditioned by society to think I did. Since I started considering what I genuinely want and need in my life, I’ve never been happier! I'd make an exception to adopt a certain little green guy, though.

4. What sports do you play/have played? Ugh, I hate questions like this. Nope, I’m a lazy asshole and now you all know it 🫣. I mean, I activity-hopped throughout my school years (gymnastics, karate, soccer), but these days I live in front of a computer. My exercise is lugging 24 bottles of water up 4 flights of stairs twice a week.

5. Do you use sarcasm? I’m British. Sarcasm is my mother tongue.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people? I’m the least observant person ever! So voices a lot of the time, I think. Pretty sure that’s why something clicked inside me as soon as Din Djarin spoke his first on-screen words.

7. What’s your eye color? Depends on the light, but somewhere between dark blue and grey.

8. Scary movies or happy endings? I’m an absolute wuss when it comes to scary movies, so I don’t put myself through that. Also, the literature student in me desperately wants to point out that these things are not mutually exclusive, as you can have scary movies with happy endings, so a more appropriate ‘either/or’ scenario would be tragedies or happy endings. But either way, I will say no to the former and yes to the latter. I dislike making myself feel scared or sad – I consume fiction (in all formats) to feel good, so I’ll always look for the positive. I’m currently experimenting to see if I can write a massively angsty fic, and it was supposed to be done by the New Year, but I’m struggling. I will also have to include one of those open-ended ‘maybe it could work out after all’ epilogues. I just can’t leave my characters in pain.

9. Any talents? Not sure what constitutes a talent… I can sing, play guitar, write a longass Din Djarin fanfic that people seem quite keen on, uh… cook, I guess (though I rarely bother), understand quite a few languages (less proficient at speaking them). I’m sort of a jack of all trades, master of none. I would say I have a talent for procrastination – I can complete a whole workday and get barely anything of substance done!

10. Where were you born? In a village outside a town in Surrey, England. It's only about 30 miles from London. Lots of trees. Very dull. I left as soon as I could.

11. What are your hobbies? Writing is my main obsession, specifically Din Djarin-related, of course. Also reading (same genre). Throughout my entire life I’ve enjoyed stories in all formats – reading, writing, watching, listening, proofreading the fuck out of them – so if it’s a good yarn, I’ll have a good time.

12. Do you have any pets? Not currently, my landlord won’t allow it. I used to own 3 rats who were the most adorable boys and so smart – they knew their names, responded to commands, liked to snuggle. When I can finally buy my own place I’ll probably get a dog, as I like pets that listen to you, even if only sporadically. I had a very non-communicative chameleon once. He was called Minion. He was not a good minion.

13. How tall are you? 5’4. Not tiny, but sometimes I have to go up on my tippytoes to reach stuff.

14. Favorite subject in school? English literature (see hobbies question above). When I got to university and enrolled on an English lit/lang degree, I tried to take as many literature courses and avoid the language ones. It wasn’t until years after graduating when I started proofing/editing and writing more seriously that I developed a respect for all the mandatory language courses I had to do. I also liked media studies and film studies; you can guess why. Psychology was interesting too, it’s good to understand human nature if you want to write realistic characters.

15. Dream job? I wish I could write novels for a living. It’s a goal as well as a dream. I know a couple of authors who’ve self-published via Kindle Direct Publishing (I proofread/edited for one of them), and they were successful enough to turn that into their careers. They keep encouraging me to try, although I’m currently in my ‘obsessed with Din Djarin so just writing fanfic to develop my authorial voice’ era. When my obsession wanes, as obsessions inevitably do, I’ll hopefully feel ready to write something original and take my shot. But I’m not pressuring myself, and right now I’m happy attempting to entertain the Mandalorian fan community. I feel safe here 💖

Now I know I’m supposed to tag people since that’s the point of a tag game… but I’m that autistic kid in the corner who is too shy and worried about tagging people who might not reply. So I’m foregoing tags today. But, if you’ve bothered to read this and you haven't already played: TAG YOU’RE IT! That’s me tagging you, please take it seriously and thank me for your tag in your own post (I will be genuinely thrilled if anybody does this, and I’m sending advance love to anyone who does – you don’t know how much it means to someone autistic to have the decision-making element dealt with for them). So go on, now it’s your turn!

#about myself #tag game #ask game #tag you're it #ask me anything #tag yourself

13 notes · View notes

eldritch-queern-magicat · 4 months

Text

Actually, no, I haven't really changed at all since middle school. I'm still the same deeply creative weirdo with ever-growing eclectic interests. A happily blooming nerd. If I learned about something in school, I wanted to explore it at home, on my own. That's really how the electronics disaster happened. I'm actually incredibly grateful Mom and Dad monitored my Internet use. I am way too curious sometimes. And I have to see shit for myself extremely often.

I wasn't let back out properly as a specific part until sometime in the sixth grade. It was partially the cats, but also realizing Nanny probably wouldn't be around much longer. So when she did die, I was more relieved than anything else. I used to feel bad that I hadn't cried for her.

But she was stifling me and trying to tell me what to be. She didn't like me being curious about makeup? I was low-key kinda thrilled when I got makeup for Christmas in my senior year of high school. I like color. A lot. I used to constantly change my favorite color. Now I just say I love the entire rainbow.

And I had to hide that I absolutely loved Pokémon. I think she thought it was glorifying violence, but it's more like competitive high-contact sports. Either that, or it was the racism. Frankly, probably both. It's probably the one thing she might have been worse than foster care about. But honestly, watching all the stuff that had to do with entirely different cultures was so good for me. It still exposed me to to new ideas and lessons when I actually needed it. Among them, I started passively absorbing any little bit when Taoism or Buddhism were significant themes. Paired with Bible study on Saturday morning, I guess I managed better than I thought.

She was surprisingly ok with when I was really into western fantasy like Sabrina the Teenage Witch. I think she was also ok with Power Rangers and ThunderCats (the original). At least she validated my love of learning new things and legit gave me old text books (that I don't know where she even got) to look at science subjects at home.

I think that really started in the seventh grade when I got so obsessed with astronomy and in particular, black holes. It just amazed me how unfathomably massive the universe is. How far it goes, how long even light takes to travel through it. I couldn't help but find the divine in the actual, physical cosmos. And it was there with every part of it. I would think, ‘How can everything in this physical reality be bad if God had said it was good in the beginning? Surely we haven't corrupted everything. Cats and dogs know about compassion, in a sense. That's good and beautiful.’

It wasn't hard at all to be better than foster care, but she actually was. She did encourage me to ask questions if I was confused. She clarified a lot of the literalist theology so I could start to understand it. I think I asked to study the bible with her, with that very hope. According to Dad, she could keep up with devout Catholics. I had two different children's bibles at her trailer, plus she bought me my own standard bible when I was ten, for my birthday. She and Mom took me to the book store at the mall, and had them print my casual first name with my last name at the bottom right corner of the front in silver letters.

Fun fact, someone actually jokingly asked if I'd grown up Catholic because of my apparently deep knowledge of Christianity. That was during the summer last year. The irony of my current proximity to the nearest Catholic church is not lost on me.

What fucked me back up was how I was treated during high school a lot by peers and family, and largely I just got angrier more than anything else. I was trying my best to do better when it all started going downhill fast again. But apparently I was still not good enough. My cousins suddenly became spoiled brats because of my needs frequently not being met entirely, but they seemed so much better adjusted. They didn't understand, and I didn't know how to break my silence. So I started lashing out because i really didn't have the social skills I needed. So yeah, I was definitely an asshole at times. The bullshit from foster care got a refresh, and I was forced to submit to their training again.

Never had any serious issues with Grandma, though in typical moody teenager fashion, I was sometimes a brat.

There's a reason I didn't really come out of my shell again until my junior year of high school. I decided to try to be more brave the year before, since I knew I'd graduate in Ohio. I got better at my art and creative writing, and it seemed to give me a way to connect with others. I decided to go for the culinary class at the career center because hey--good food--and the only thing that was in question was my literal birth date and legal age restrictions with the student restaurant. I got in. Mom and Dad made absolutely sure it was paid for. So I decided to do another nuts thing and go try out for the spring musical. I met one of my closest friends that way. Truly a charismatic character (gonna tag you, @themerrymutants I miss you). I felt accepted and encouraged, like family is supposed to make you feel.

Memories are really just flooding in now, it's a just lot to process. Maybe it's because while answering the person on anon, I opened up a lot of my own psychological cupboards. I never really said a lot of that at once, let alone even explained my logic behind it all. It put a lot of things into perspective for me.

And I just can't help but think, oh, shit, I actually am competent. But I was constantly second-guessing myself because so many of the people around me were hellbent on judging everything I did. Now I understand that in those cases, they most likely feared how authentic I am. Some people, more or less depending on where I was at any given time, thought I was pretty cool because I was so authentic.

I stopped fronting almost entirely when Mom died. I still hadn't recovered at all from literally anything, and didn't know how to handle that. It took cycling through different roles to find something productive for me. I shattered, and ended up pushing most of my remaining idealism into the then-evolving Lilitu.

But I was always at my best when I was true to myself. There were still plenty of people who loved me for who I really was. And that was just enough to keep going. That is precisely what fueled my spite against others who didn't like me. And Mom sure as fuck never quit going.

-Era 🍎😺

10 notes · View notes

rin-hanarin · 1 year

Text

There's this 11 years old Homestuck fic that forever changed my perception of the post scratch timeline called Like Forgetting the Words.

I think about it sometimes and I imagine Rose and Jade would remember important bits and pieces, but Dave and John wouldn't. Alpha Dave gets the shades and the bunny, "had brief obsession with Con Air" according to Dirk, built and entire memorabilia museum, but he doesn't consciously remember. He'd watch things John Crocker was starring in by accident and have a good laugh at how dumb and friend shaped he is and get an unbearable sense of longing for something, but he wouldn't remember anything still. Then one day Rose takes him to some random grave in Washington and says that she needs to visit a friend, and she brings flowers and talks to the stone, and Dave just kinda watches her do that. She asks him vague questions and he has no answers, so he one day comes back alone to the grave and brings red flowers, saying something like "thats probably blasphemy or some shit i hope your family doesnt freak out if they ever see that". He finds the meaning of these flowers in a book by a certain J. English Rose conveniently gifts him one day, and it's something really specific, written in a manner young girl would write and not a famous old rich woman. He comes back to the grave every year in April, talks about whatever at it and has one-sided conversations with himself, and wishes "John" a Happy 13th one day in 2009 and finds it hysterical that it's the date of his death on the gravestone for some reason. He comes to the grave one last time after killing the juggalos because he thinks he saw a flash of blue there and says that he "wanted to bring these motherfuckers heads to you didnt you hate clowns or something? thats kinda fucked up now that i think about it i dont wanna defile your grave with these pieces of shit bro my bad". He dies to the Condesce and thinks that maybe he'd get to see them again.

Young John Crocker would spend hours listening to clocks ticking and writing in journals in different colors, trying to find the right one with the right voice to go with it. He ends up being left behind by his sister, the last thing remaining is her garden with a wide selection of rose plants, so he looks after it to pass the time, begging of Betty not to destroy it. He has a great interest in film and the way it develops during 1900s, but never someone to share it with, and he so desperately wants to that he end up writing his every thought about it like he's writing a letter to someone. He would collect vinyl records and scratch them sometimes for no apparent reason, and asks his son in his will to auction his collection some day after his death, only for some rich movie director to buy them later for such an obscene amount of money that Mr. Crocker expects him to ask for a refund. He never remembers anything, but his family recalls how detached he was sometimes, like his thoughts were in a completely different world, and in the end of the day no amount of movie roles and comedy gigs made him any less lonely.

#johndave #davejohn #homestuck #alpha dave #poppop crocker #i'm holding alpha dave and his con air obsession in my hands #and shaking him #aaaahhh

89 notes · View notes

enagismos · 3 months

Text

9 people you wanna get to know better - tagged by @vulgardaughter (girl you're the type of mutual i'm scared to dm but really want to you're literally so cool)

Last Song: "me, i'm not" by nine inch nails (i love when trent reznor moans and whines wait who said that.)

Favourite Color: blood red and forest green!

Last Movie/TV Show: last movie was "twin peaks: fire walk with me" and the last show was twin peaks lmao

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: savory all the way!!!

Relationship Status: i'm in a long-term relationship with the love of my life <3

Last Thing I Googled: the holdovers movie

Current Obsession: spending money apparently.... i really should stop lmao

Last Book: i've finally read kafka's "metamorphosis" just a couple of days ago!! there are so many books which are considered classics and i kinda. have never read them even though i'm a philologist so i'm trying to catch up rn

Looking Forward To: i'm going home for a week and i'm gonna see my mom and my mountains and i'm literally crying when i think about my mountains that's how much i miss them. i need to be in nature OR ELSE

tags: @d-dormant, @ljosalfheim, @deathandsensuality, @sotiriabellou, @sullengirl, @rioabaixo, @thewavesbrokeontheshore, @mytholegy, @kurhanchyk (if you guys want to ofc!)

#lauren thank you for tagging me in this <3

6 notes · View notes

akayna · 5 months

Text

!!! I've been tagged for a thing :3 I love answering random things!

Thanks @a-ya-92 🥺

Learn about 9 people...

Last song: Troubled Land - Speedometer ft James Junior (spouse has a random funk playlist going tonight)

Fave color: the bright green of the sun shining thru leaves

Last movie/show: SpyxFamily

Sweet/spicy/savory: yes. All of them. Anytime. All the time. FLAVORS. Once I get on a flavor train I must consume it quickly and nonstop for a bit.

Relationship status: multiple. :p I have four partners that translate into multiple arrangements of relationships. 3 live in Canada and I've got my NP here. NP isn't seeing any of the other 3, but the rest of us crossallover.

Last thing googled: "hold up wait a minute zhu" which is a banger of a song we stumbled upon tonight and I wanted to know when it came out - 2016, apparently. It features Bone Thugs and Harmony and it's good?? Which is kinda wild, tbh.

Current obsession: playing this stupid matching puzzle game on my phone.

I tag the next 9... @dontblamethewitches @emophaseforever @heart-in-atrophyy @its-just-boo @kadertins @moss-wizard @rosiry-fromskyrim @surethatsoundsgay @teacuprevelry

#tag game #silly games for silly people #join me and frolick

6 notes · View notes

applecherry108 · 2 months

Note

Your Cherub choices for the Deadly Sins are interesting, would you mind explaining who is who? Some are obvious but for others it is confusing.

Totally!

A bit of preface: I based these cherub designs on the forms Lucifer took during his fight with Adam, so I was limited by that. Also, I’m obsessed with the rings of hell being color coded, so they’re also color coded lmao

(also what a great excuse to post the cherubs individually. Thanks!)

Satan: Sin of Wrath, Virtue of Patience

Since we haven’t seen Satan yet, he’s a bit of a wild guess, but of the forms I had to choose from, I thought Horse fit him best. We know the Wrath Ring has a western/cowboy aesthetic, and we’ve heard Bee say he’s hot without a shirt on, which made me think of the phrase “hung like a horse.” 😅 Plus, I think horses are a great representation of the dichotomy of wrath/patience—it takes a lot of patience to keep one calm, and they can do a lot of damage when riled up.

Also, the icon for his app we’ve see kinda looks like a horse skull, so here’s that next to Bombproof as a comparison:

(side note: for no other reason than Because I Can, I gave him the coat colors of Epona. Because orange. 😂😂)

Beelzebub: Sin of Gluttony, Virtue of Temperance

Only at this moment do I realize Lucifer never took the form of a bee, but because we’ve seen multiple bee cherubs before it felt like a no-brainer. 😭😅 I made her the smallest of the cherubs because, as Temperance, I felt she should be the smallest/least of the virtues. I also headcanon that she’s the largest of all the sins physically, because why shouldn’t gluttony get to take up the most space lol. Also, while trying to adapt her more canine features into a bee cherub, I realized her shirt as a sin looks a bit like a bib as a cherub and I thought that was cute. :>

Mammon: Sin of Greed, Virtue of Charity

I know there’s a ton of debate about what Mammon’s true demon for is (whether of not he’s a spider), but personally I think he’s a centipede. Also, apparently some male centipedes can spin a web, which is cool. But as a visual metaphor, I think snake fits him really well. What better representation of charity than a creature that has no hands to hold on to things? And I would consider (within hellaverse lore), Lucifer giving Eve the apple an act of charity. Also, once banished to Hell, he’d sprout arms with which to grab lol.

I would also like to point out that I think his design is partially based on the sandworm from Beetlejuice, as a nod/inside joke to Fizz’s voice actor playing the broadway version of the character.

(Sources: https://www.deviantart.com/highvoltage-art/art/Sandworm-Beetlejuice-891922450 and https://sinnawii.tumblr.com/post/732544584927870976/caught-trapped-in-his-web )

Asmodeus: Sin of Lust, Virtue of Chastity

Alright alright—I know Ozzie’s extra heads are *technically* a ram and a bull, but I chose to base him on a goat. They’re all hooved animals. So…tomato, tomato. 😅 I also sorta liked the idea of “chastity” being a sort of “completeness” in heaven, which is why he has both sets of horns (like demon goats are sometimes depicted as). I imagine once fallen, there’d be a sort of…splitting, or ripping effect, creating the torn face in between, forever separating the two sides and creating the desire to “reconnect” them. (Yes I think Ozzie has every bit. All the bits. It’d seem silly not to lol)

Leviathan: Sin of Envy, Virtue of Kindness

Given that we’ve never seen Leviathan, and the Von Eldritch family is probably not Leviathan, I have very little to go on other than: a) ocean. octopus. b) virtue of kindness = many arms to hug with. 😅

(I’m really hoping Levi ends up being Cthulhu. Just. A Captain Davy Jones mf with an octopus for a head lmao)

Belphegor: Sin of Sloth, Virtue of Diligence

SHE’S A NIGHTINGALE. GET IT? FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE, FIRST LADY OF NURSING? BUT BIRD? 😂😂

Aight, but for real, I think it’s either confirmed or heavily implied that the baphotmet hellborn (the goats w candles on their heads) are native to Sloth, and I think that’s a really funny pun about “burning the candle at both ends” as a representation of Diligence morphing into a melting candle with excessive wax buildup. That sounds random, but I originally intended to draw Bel with a candle. But that…clearly didn’t happen. But I felt it was important to know. 😅 Also I envision cherub Bel was being that hyped up on caffeine, doesn’t sleep more than 2 hours, assistant that’s always on top of everything. The divine scheduler of heaven. 😂 And once fallen, her scheduling scroll burns to ash and she can finally relax. 😌

All in all,

I had in mind that all the cherubs actually enjoyed becoming demons, that they were finally able to shake off the constrictive and stifling demands of heaven and just get to be themselves. We’ve already seen that becoming demons didn’t make all of them shitty people (or at least, there was probably a learning curve that some/most of them conquered), because most cardinal sins on their own aren’t inherently selfish. Mammon almost by definition is selfish, which is why he sucks so much, and based on the pre-series lore Viv has mentioned about the Von Eldritch family, I think Leviathan is going to be a shitty or at least very toxic person, but I think Satan is going to have similar character traits as Tom from svtfoe. Like he has a short fuse, but he also does the workout app, so he’s clearly trying to channel that rage into constructive outlets lol.

#yikes. um.#long post #lmao sorry 😅#thank you for asking! truly I am Charlie Day in front of the Pepe Silva conspiracy board. 😂😂#apple talks #my art #HH/HB art

5 notes · View notes