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soracities · 1 year

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Your account is absolutely wonderful.. I am assuming that it takes a lot of time and dedication to absorb so much art... I find myself drifting away, always exhausted from my job... So I guess my question is what do you do for work and how do you stay inspired?

most of my time is spent child-minding and while that has left me with very little time to read and watch the things i want--and can be quite exhausting in and of itself--i think there is a little trade-off in that children keep you attentive to the world around you in a way you would not otherwise be, if only because you have to be that attentive to answer all their countless questions. so in a sense there is some inspiration i glean from that.

otherwise, i think this blog sometimes does give off the impression that i'm more well-read than i actually am; in reality, i dance on the surface of a lot of artworks but am passionate about maybe a tiny handful of works, and maybe, like, two painters. i have a "to watch" list that far exceeds my lifespan given that i actually watch, maybe, 3 movies a year. i have finished one (short) book since 2023 started and it took me six months to read that. the books that i've managed to read over the years, i've read chiefly in bursts and almost always in time periods where i was lucky enough in that i didn't have much to occupy me; even then, i'm aware i didn't read as much as i could have done with the time i had, but i'm also the kind of person who cannot devour book after book endlessly, either--i have a very clear saturation point, after which i need to do something different.

i think this blog, more than anything else, is a kind of repository of all the little fragments of thoughts or books or the world that interest and catch me and that i want to keep, but what i actually spend time with and dive into makes up an absolutely miniscule fraction of that. there have been long months (and years) where i did not have it in me to maintain any kind of sustained attention to reading or poetry, but i think the ability to do so is a huge, often unacknowledged, priviliege that requires not just time and economic security, but also mental clarity. i'm saying this to stress that what you feel, especially with whatever demands your job makes on you, is entirely normal and not anything to be ashamed of: the toll bills take, that laundry takes, that cooking and cleaning and countless other errands take are not to be underestimated when you go into them already sapped of most of your reserves in the first place.

it's something i've felt quite often (and still do); carving out the time to read as much or as often as i would like to does require dedication which i do not always have the energy for. but i think for me, to answer your question regarding inspiration, especially during the times when i'm not reading anything, inspiration is in paying as much attention as i can to the world around me, no matter how tiny the details are. there's a quote by william stafford where he talks about the ability to have "one vivid morning" and then "chain myself to it for fifty years". i don't have any set "philosophy" on life, but that is one thing i have always lived by: i still remember a single razor of light i saw on the railway tracks one morning a year ago which caught me by surprise, or the time on the bus when the setting sun filled the top deck and i knew then by the colour of it that summer was coming, or when i got up close to a patch of damp moss to see all its tiny little hairs more clearly, or one afternoon five years or so ago when i bought some loose pears from a corner shop and they were the sweetest, most-melt-in-the-mouth-juiciest pears i'd ever had....i can obsess over the light through a window over and over and over again no matter how often i see it. my mother put some lilies in a vase in the living room a few weeks ago and the entire time i was enraptured with how the scent hit me everytime i'd come into that room. even after more than a week they still enraptured me; each time was like i discovered them all over again and that brightened my mood so immeasurably.

for me inspiration is chiefly about recognizing the things that bring me joy and then holding them as closely as i can. there's a game i've started playing if i'm on a long bus trip where i take the number of a random bus stop i pass and if it's lower than 2020 i google what events happened in that year and pick the one that interests me most: if i'm going to be on my phone anyway, i will be on it in a way that aligns with what i already enjoy (FACTS!) and won't drain me (social media). when i don't have the energy to finish or even pick up a book, i'm subscribed to sites like Aeon, Ordinary Plots, Diaries of Note, or grieftolight on instagram (shoutout to forever beloved @firstfullmoon doing the lord's work with that account, truly), or podcasts i like, which allow me to read or experience little bits and pieces here and there without the pressure or anxiety-inducing commitment. if there is a poem i love i try to spend as much time with it as i can, which often just takes the form of me writing it down (by hand, usually-- that part is important) into a ledger of poems i keep which i can return to whenever i want, underlining my favourite parts or just rereading what spoke to me (i also love going to exhibits or museums (which, luckily, are mostly free where i live) or taking note of all the random bits of street art i see)

a year or so ago i also started, and this has changed my life, to copy down some of my favourite quotes i've reblogged onto little cue cards and stick them on the wall by my bed. some are poems, some are bits of novels or scraps of philosophy, some are motivational tidbits, but all of them are things i want to be reminded of. it helps me remember the lines i most want to keep and also grounds me in an odd way, but more than that, it just makes me happy. if i'm doom-scrolling, or having a rough evening, i can turn to that wall and read the things that mean most to me.

i don't know if any of this helps, and i'm conscious of not putting these out there as a cure-all because i'm very aware of how quickly, and how easily, this society and its set-up can drain you. i am, though, a staunch proponent of approaching art (any kind) and your engagement with it from a place and a pace that is true to you, before anything else, and that includes taking into account your own circumstances and what would bring you the most enjoyment within the means you have available to you: sometimes that's a 20 minute radio interview about blackholes, sometimes it's counting how many birds you pass as you walk through the park, sometimes it's 150 page novella it takes you half a year to finish. whatever it may look like, center your own pleasure first. i hope this can give you something, anon ♡

#also cannot understate the impact of the people in my life #the LUMINOUS brains of my friends and the people i love give me an education on the world no university can compete with #ask #anonymous #notes from elsewhere

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kaurwreck · 3 months

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do you have any general headcanons about bsd that you're fond of? sort of alternatively, any interesting tidbits about the irl authors to share? your blog has taught me a lot, maybe even a bit against my will 💀 irl authors were so funny ANYWAY ty so much for oversharing because i enjoy it a lot!!

I've been chewing on how to answer this because I have so many headcanons I'm so fond of, but it felt too self-indulgent to pour headcanons on you when I could offer facts as an alternative.

I post what I learn because it excites me, but also because I think it's wrong to have the resources I do without striving to share them. Since I haven't been writing fic like I used to, analyses and factual deep cuts are also all I have to offer the community in return for the joy this media brings me. It's not what everyone always wants, but it's the only other way I know how to engage.

That said, at least this time, I'm going to share several of my headcanons (some of which are theories) instead. But, so that I'm not completely wasting anyone's time, I'll also include one (1) Akutagawa fact at the end, if only because I think it's devastating 🧡

the Executives

Chuuya and Verlaine have a monthly standing appointment with each other to smoke and drink Bordeaux and wax poetic in French in Verlaine's depression hovel. It's a pretense for Verlaine to tell Chuuya about Rimbaud, and for Chuuya to listen and remember so that he can be the edifying stele Rimbaud's grave wasn't afforded.

It's also so they can vent, gush, and gossip.

Kouyou and Verlaine both want to dress Chuuya and bicker over it, especially ahead of formal events and special occasions. Chuuya and Verlaine are closer in taste, so Verlaine often prevails, but where Chuuya won't accept Verlaine's suggestions without inserting his own street urchin, delinquent flourishes, every so often he allows Kouyou to dress, accessorize, and accent him to her heart's desire (especially if she hasn't seen Kyouka in some time).

Chuuya does not, ever, listen to or humor Mori's wardrobe suggestions.

When the Executives convene for a meeting requiring conensus or a quorum, Mori places a maneki-neko in the seat reserved for Dazai as a proxy. (It used to be in Dazai's seat all of the time, but it was repeatedly vandalized, so now Mori otherwise stores it in his desk.)

Chuuya is a workaholic who's leisure is often occupied by engagement with interests relevant to his professional development; Kouyou maintains strict boundaries around her leisure time (namely spent on or to provide for Kyouka), and Mori is only not-working when he's spoiling Elise, although he usually works through that too.

As a result, Chuuya and Mori spend the most time together, and Chuuya is so used to co-working with Mori in Mori's office that he forgets it's not also his.

Chuuya maintains the Port Mafia's relationships with foreign syndicates, contacts, and illicit trading partners. This is for several reasons: he's a polyglot, and it furthers and maintains his other languages; Kouyou thinks it's good for him to practice diplomacy and negotiation; Mori is aware the organization prefers Chuuya as his heir and wants him well established with their business partners should Chuuya succeed him; Chuuya has friends in Europe he enjoys visiting when the role requires travel; and it deters malicious foreign interest in the Port of Yokohama since Chuuya reminds those who don't consider Japan a world power in the aftermath of the Great War that Yokohama is stewarded by a hot tempered guard dog who can control the most astronomically influential fundamental force theorized by physics.

Chuuya's half-mullet is a reference to both Verlaine's side ponytail and Kouyou's half-bangs.

Mori is asexual.

the Agency

The Agency office has a spare room that Fukuzawa has furnished and decorated to be a relaxing reprieve for mindful repose. The Zen room, colloquially. Dazai uses it to masturbate at work, Ranpo uses it as a spare pantry, Yosano has appropriately pointed out it should be a lactation room for accessibility and equity but uses it to read and write erotica when bored, Kunikida uses it for the nervous breakdowns he doesn't want the others to see (and to smoke), Kenji has never once needed it, Tanizaki and Naomi use it for unspeakable acts, Kyouka uses it for shikantaza as Fukuzawa intended, and Atsushi isn't aware it exists.

Atsushi isn't allowed to have prolonged screen time because Kunikida thinks he's too impressionable, which is why Kunikida won't let him have a smartphone or a tablet. He's going to be very annoyed when he learns that Ango allowed Atsushi to use his tablet unsupervised during the Hunting Dogs arc.

Atsushi doesn't know about bills, pensions, or investment portfolios because Kunikida is maintaining his for him without him noticing. (Kunikida intends to teach him about each and transition small responsibilities, but only once Atsushi turns 20.)

Kunikida also maintains Dazai's, or at least he tries. Dazai keeps finding the accounts and draining them on sake, gambling, elaborate attempts to tease others, and impulse purchases.

I do not think Dazai has any savings from the Port Mafia; I think he spent what he had during the two years he was in hiding, and that he's never been capable of resisting ridiculous purchases for elaborate machinations. Like, he once paid a man who took the same train as Kunikida every day to stand near Kunikida and sneeze without covering his mouth at the exact same time every day for almost a year. Then, on a day when Kunikida had several important meetings, Dazai asked the man to sneeze 37 seconds later than usual. It ruined Kunikida's entire day; he had to take paid time off to recover from the aftermath.

Yosano treats Kunikida like a little brother and nurtures and chides him. She doesn't baby him, though, because he responds best when he has high expectations to meet and because he externalizes his frustration in a way she genuinely doesn't have the patience to tolerate. This is to his benefit; it humbles him and keeps him from becoming too condemnatory and punitive.

Dazai and Yosano slept together when he first joined the Agency. They haven't since, but they have a mutual understanding that she can and does use (i) his self-flagellating, psychosexual attraction to her and (ii) his habit of objectifying competent, compassionate women as victims of his attraction to manipulate him for his self improvement and her sometimes sexual gratification. He's usually fine with it; she doesn't when he isn't.

They're also aware that they sometimes remind the other of Mori (well before they became aware of each other's pasts with him) so they maintain a level of emotional and physical distance to protect themselves and each other. Mostly, this distance is pre-calculated and mutually respectful. But sometimes it's not; sometimes, it's punitive and petty.

Yosano and Dazai have never explicitly negotiated any of the above, nor have they ever needed to. This is another way in which they remind each other of Mori, and so their synchronity ensures their distance.

Atsushi thinks Kyouka is under his care, but Kyouka and the rest of the Agency know that he's under hers.

Tanizaki's feigned harmlessness is to deflect attention and scrutiny, but it's also part of his 24/7 BDSM relationship with Naomi.

Dazai is the only stray cat Fukuzawa knows better than to smother, which is why Dazai may wander but will always slink his way home.

Atsushi's selectively acute perceptiveness into the hearts of others renders Dazai unusually vulnerable and bare in such a way that Dazai covets. But it's also why Dazai frets enough about Atsushi's perception of him that he changed clothes before seeking him out and tried to explain himself at the end of Dead Apple. That Atsushi didn't need him to is why Dazai wanted to; Atsushi engenders a drive in others to meet his faith in them energetically and with sincerity. He has no idea that he has this impact on others; which is why Lucy and Akutagawa also want to drown him.

There are enough spare dorms that Kyouka and Atsushi don't need to share; Fukuzawa, Ranpo, Yosano, Kunikida, and Dazai just all agreed that Atsushi and Kyouka would be happier and do better if maintained as a pair. And Dazai thought it would be funny to lie.

etc., Etc.

Kouyou speaks, acts, and dresses like an oiran in reference to irl!Kyouka's favorite and most consistent character archetype. Non-coincidentally, irl!Kyouka's preference for writing seductive, powerful, maternal, victimized, narratively damned women characters was Oedipal in nature.

Dazai's skill, like Kyouka's, was transferred to him, which is why he's incapable of controlling it as effectively as other touch-based skill users like Hirotsu and Chuuya control theirs. Dazai's skill was transferred to him by Natsume and is a fragment of Natsume's own skill (his nine lives, so to speak).

Skills are shaped by and manifest in response to their users' intense and often unmet or insecure needs and desires. Much like any coping mechanism, they're constructs as deeply ingrained as personalities once formed.

Kyouka and Dazai's limited control over their abilities is a psychological barrier rather than a matter of in-universe physics.

Atsushi is the white tiger, Akutagawa is the azure dragon, Dazai is the black tortoise, and Chuuya is the vermillion bird. They're the four symbols, and they embody four of the five phases (while grappling with the fifth).

Natsume brought Dazai to Mori, and followed Dazai to Fukuzawa.

Ango, Kunikida, and Chuuya have a group chat to coordinate the keeping and care of Dazai, but Ango is habitually kicked and then begrudgingly allowed back in.

Agatha Christie directs the Order of the Clock Tower from where she's imprisoned in the Elizabeth Tower (nèe the Clock Tower, misnomer Big Ben). This is less a headcanon and more a substantiated theory— if you notice, the room Agatha Christie is always depicted as being inside in the manga has wood panels that are reminiscent of the oak paneled walls of the irl prison room in the irl Elizabeth Tower. The anime iteration more generally references elements of the Elizabeth Tower's Gothic Revival design in the room's symmetrical and ornate carved details, decorative moldings, arches, tracery, vaulted ceiling, heavy and curved and elaborately patterned furniture, etc., etc. Her skill being called And Then There Were None and her cold, calculating, sadistic personality also suggest she takes after Judge Wargrave, who was both the righteous condemner and among the righteously condemned.

As for your irl fact: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke's children did not call him dad; they called him Ryu-chan.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #armed detective agency #port mafia #bsd agatha #im a little baffled by the backhanded compliments in the ask but im choosing to cherry pick

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wonderstruks · 1 year

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I think we got some chemistry between us

Gareth x gn! Reader

Warnings: cursing, being friend zoned, a menstruation mention

Summary: The only person you wanted to ask you to homecoming didn't and when your on the committee a certain someone comes and sweeps you to the dance floor

● I DO NOT GIVE ANY PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BY COPIED ONTO OTHER SITES

The halls were buzzing with mindless chatter about the upcoming dance.

Girls fussed about what to wear and which boy would ask them, and boys discussed which chick would be worth their time.

Boys at Hawkins High were like dogs, they only had one thing on their mind.

All of them disgusted me except for the select few.

“(Y/n)!” I heard a yell and turned around.

It was Dustin, he greeted me with a geniue toothy grin.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you please sign up with me for the dance committee?”

I laughed.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I got in trouble, and now I have to do it and I would rather not spend my whole night lonely!” He whined.

I shook my head.

“Let me think about it okay, Dusty.”

“Okay, but please (y/n)!”

The bell rang, and I turned on my heel, walking to my next class.

“See ya at lunch!”

Ugh, of course my next class had to be chemistry and of course I had to share it with Gareth.

He was a year older than me.

He flunked last year, and now he's redoing it.

Now him being In the class isn't what is the bad thing, it's my massive, enormous crush on him.

It's like when he's around, I can't contain myself.

I'm awkward and blushy, and I can't even pay attention to anything but him, and it's all his fault.

But the worst part is that I always make a fool of myself because we're friends.

Stupid fucking friends.

I didn't want to just be his friend, I wanted to be his everything.

Though he didn't see me like that, at least, I think.

It's hard to tell with Gareth.

One minute he'll call me a pet name and then go back to calling me dude.

I wasn't a “dude” though.

I was just hopelessly in love with him.

“Hey (y/n)! What's up dude?”

I felt myself cringe internally.

“Hey Gareth.”

“You ready for the torture of today's class?”

I giggled softly.

“It's not that bad.”

“You sure, sweetheart because I literally have no idea what has been going on for the past month.”

I took my seat and Gareth sat right beside me.

“Okay then if you don't know anything how are you even passing?”

“Cheating off of you, of course.”

I playfully scoffed and hit his arm, he laughed in response.

God, he was so gorgeous when he laughed.

His dimples poked out and his smile glistened.

He truly looked like a Greek God, so beautiful that even the heavens cried for him.

“Good morning class, find your seats! Today, we will be continuing-.”

I could even listen to the teacher drone on.

Instead, my mind decided to occupy itself with more important things, like watching Gareth's hands flex and noticing the way his veins curve.

“Hello, earth to (y/n)?”

“Huh?” I said, snapping out of my thoughts.

“Your lab or mine, sweetie?”

“Huh?” I felt myself starting to blush.

“We're doing a partner project.”

“Oh.” I nervously laughed.

“You weren't paying attention, were you?”

“Not a bit.”

He laughed and shook his head, his curls bouncing.

“Well that's just great, it's your fault if we cause an explosion, dude.”

I smiled.

“I'll blame it on you.”

Despite not paying attention for that class period, it went smooth sailing and me and Gareth actually managed successfully to complete the project.

I spent my next classes thinking about him.

I wanted him to so badly ask me to the dance, I could only imagine him dressed up all nice wearing a freaking bow tie.

He'd hold me while we danced, and he'd even kiss me.

It would be the perfect night.

There was no other guy for me but him.

Ever since I've met him, it's always been Gareth.

When the bell rang signaling lunch, my stomach spinned in circles, knowing I was going to see the boy who plagued my mind.

Already feeling nauseous, I chose to skip out on food and took my usual right beside Gareth.

My heart raced and my palms shook.

The things this boy did to me.

“Ah (y/n) have you thought about it yet?” Dustin asked, sitting across from me.

“Thought about what, Dustin?” Eddie questioned.

“I want (y/n)'s help on the homecoming committee, but they won't give me an answer!”

“Maybe I want to go, Dustin?” I interjected, my heart racing as Gareth turned his attention to me.

“You actually want to go to one of those?” Eddie busted out laughing and all the boys joined in.

“What's so bad about it?”

“What's so bad? What's so bad! Those 'parties' are just a popularity contest meant for total posers.”

Gareth jumped in and agreed with him.

“Absolutely everyone who goes to those things are assholes who peak in high school.”

My heart felt like it shattered.

I should've thought about this logically, there was no way Gareth would ever ask me to something like this.

Feeling defeated and humiliated, I stood up.

“Dustin, I'll help you.”

The boy smiled, and I wished I could share his enjoyment, but I couldn't.

I felt like an absolute fool.

________

The next day chemistry came and I dreaded it.

I couldn't face Gareth, especially after yesterday.

Just looking at him made me angry.

Why did he have to agree with Eddie?

God, I felt so dumb forever dreaming about going to a dance with him.

I sat at my lab, my head my laid in my folded arms.

“Hey dude, what's up!”

Dude!

I could not do this right now!

“Leave me alone, Gareth.” I spat out bitterly.

“Whoa harsh, is it that time of the month?” He joked lightly punching my shoulder.

I sat up and gave him a death glare.

“Sorry just joking.” He said realizing his mistake.

“You know what Gareth, not everything is a joke.” I spit out bitterly.

“What?” He was confused.

“Just leave me alone.” I grabbed my things and moved to a different seat, leaving him shocked.

Once class was over I raced to my next class, ignoring Gareth trying to talk to me.

When the lunch bell rang I simply just skipped it, hiding out in the library away from all the boys.

I realized how immature I was being, but I really couldn't do this.

I couldn't pretend everything was okay when my feelings were more than hurt.

Once school was over, I was making my way outside when I felt a hand grab me.

It was Gareth.

“Finally! We need to talk.”

I didn't respond, I just stared at him coldly.

“Dude if this is about this morning I'm so sor-”

“It's not about this morning!”

“Then what!”

“Are you really that clueless?”

“Hey!”

There was no going back now.

“I thought I was so obvious with my feelings. Maybe this asshole poser really wanted you to ask them to the dance.”

I shrugged his grip off and walked away.

Leaving him shocked once more.

_________

The night of the dance felt so bittersweet.

I wanted to be here, but just in different circumstances.

I would rather not be sitting here worrying over the ice melting for the refreshments.

Although I agreed to do this with Dustin, I hadn't seen him in a while making me think he ditched me.

I stood there sadly, jealous of all the couples dancing in front of me.

“Damn, that ice seems like it's melting.”

I turned to see Gareth.

He was all dressed up, just how I imagined it.

“Gareth?”

“Hey.” He smiled.

“What are you doing here?”

He grabbed my hand.

“Making it up to you.”

He pulled me on the dance floor.

It all felt so cheesy, as soon we got there a slow song started to play.

Gareth grabbed my waist and pulled me close, swaying us to the beat.

It all felt too perfect.

“I'm confused Gareth, why?”

“Because you're right I'm dumb, I've liked you for so long, and yet, I call you dude, I say whatever just to look cool like Eddie but this whole time I should've seen it, I should have seen you liked me, the real me. I know I fucked up (y/n) but if you'd have me, I will make it right this time.”

I smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.

He smiled into it and pulled me closer.

His lips fit perfectly with mine, they melted into each other.

I pulled away and looked in his eyes.

“You know Gare I think we got some real chemistry between us.”

“And I thought I was the one who had the good science puns.”

#gareth emerson #stranger things drabble #gareth emerson x reader #gareth stranger things #gareth the great #gareth x reader #gareth x fem!reader #gareth x gn reader #gareth x you

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ill-skillsgard · 1 year

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Hey beetle, anything new from Faust x Faith, it’s been a while since the last story about them?

Maybe Faust is for once a sweet lover, but still fuck and fill her to the hilt, maybe a little getting prego kink?

Hi! Holy MOLY it has been a long time since I've written any Faust x Faith. I have had quite the year, but don't get me wrong... The babies were never far from my mind. I cannot ever forget our beautiful Frosty man.

So, this is set a little over a year in the future in this universe. But I won't give too much away here!

Warning: 18+ Smut, violence, mature language, protected/unprotected sex, emotional reunions, murderous rage, mentions of alcohol consumption, angst, cheating and all the good nasty things this pairing is known for.

Summary: It's been over a year since Faith broke up with Faust and he's returned home from an extensive European tour to find out his ex-girlfriend has moved on. Will Faust be able to control himself and let them live, or will his darkness drive him to get rid of Faith's new boyfriend?

- Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

"You feeling okay, Frost?"

The question went unanswered, and the four members of Grey Tomb turned toward the drummer. Faust hadn't been sleeping. He barely ate, and the only time he came alive was on stage behind his drum kit. Although the last few dates of the tour hadn't been his best performances.

"Your eyes are so dark that you don't even need to wear any paint," Freydis, the singer, pointed out. She was the leader of Grey Tomb, the band who had picked him up for a European tour after their original drummer went to prison. Faust had asked no questions and didn't care where they played so long as he was as far away from home as possible. An 18-date tour was long enough to keep him occupied throughout the summer, but it was winding down, and everything started reminding Faust of her again. Even the landscape, though much different from home, brought up bitter memories of Faith.

Nightmares plagued Faust when he closed his eyes—gut-wrenching visions of Faith having sex with the jock she knew from church, his old bandmates, and even Sven. He dreamt of flames and screams and Faith looking at him like he was ugly, like she couldn't believe she had ever loved him. Evenings spent in a dismal room with police trying to make him admit he had punched Bobby Esders' face into a crimson mash, teeth blistering out of shredded, bloody lips. In these nightmares, Faust was killing again, always chasing and killing and trying to convince Faith he was fine; he was only protecting her. But she turned away every time, unconvinced he possessed no virtue.

And so, he imagined the drum skins as the face he wanted to smash and broke sticks on the rim only to unsheath fresh ones from a quiver near his shin. He'd continue the brutal assault in time with a guttural bass line and dreadful shrieking.

Faust didn't want to think of violence, so he avoided sleep and the inevitable terrors waiting to resurface in his mind. He needed therapy, an intense cerebral scrub to get to the bottom of the urges that became restless at night. But he was in a foreign country with a job to do. Therapy would have to wait.

Freydis had taken on corpse paint duty and stood above Faust as he sat on the tour bus couch, face tilted up, her chest in the way. Her tongue poked out as she blotted the black, blue, and grey paint under Faust's eyes.

"I can't wait to head home after tonight, eh, Frost?" Freydis said.

"I'd rather be touring. Nothing to go home to. At least you have a family."

"And you don't?"

"Not really. Nobody I care to see."

"Damn, Frost. Are you always this gloomy? Or has tour really beaten you down that much?"

"I'm fine." He dismissed. "And when are you gonna stop calling me 'Frost?'"

"That's you, though. You're just Frost, okay? Get over it," said Freydis. "One more spot, and I think we're done. Hopefully, you don't sweat it off during the first song."

The singer put down the brush and squeezed Faust's shoulder, jostling him. "There. Looking gnarly, dude. Oh, and don't forget, there's gonna be an after-party at the place where Astral is staying. We're invited. So, you should definitely come. Last show. We gotta go out."

"We'll see," Faust said.

"You owe me."

"Okay, okay."

"Promise you'll come?"

"No."

"Faust! Please?"

"Fine, if it means that much to you."

"Okay, and don't just stand outside smoking either."

Faust grimaced. "You don't want me to have any fun."

For the sake of appearances, Faust went along for the ride after Grey Tomb's last show to meet up with some of the tour crew and members from the headlining bands. These were the kind of people to shake hands and connect with, but Faust took one look around the penthouse apartment and regretted coming. The people there having fun were too bright for him, and the only way to dim the light was to drink so much he could barely see.

Drinking heavily was a double-edged sword for Faust. On the one hand, he could bear to socialize and even cracked jokes with the people he'd been sharing a bus with for the last two months, but on the other, he was sick.

To erase the year of his life he had spent with Faith, Faust resorted to old behaviors and, much later, found himself in a room with Freydis on his lap. She had been dropping hints all tour, but Faust knew better than to tangle up a good thing. Now that he was shipping back home soon, and Freydis was staying in Denmark, there was no reason to avoid fucking her.

"Holy shit, Frost... Are you sure that condom's gonna fit?"

Faust ignored the comment and stretched the latex ring over his cock, pulling it down as far as it would go. He might have been wasted, but he wouldn't stick it in unprotected with a woman he barely knew.

"Damn, you're a big boy," Freydis said as she climbed over his thighs and lowered herself. Once the sex started, she gripped the back of his neck and pressed her forehead to his. Faust backed away, letting her ride him while he closed his eyes and bit his lip. All the momentum he had gathered while making out with Freydis slowly disappeared. He felt his hard-on deflating inside of her despite her rigorous bucking.

"Fuck," he grunted and grabbed her tits for a rush that never came.

Freydis giggled. "Are you really that drunk you can't get it up for me, Frosty?"

"Condom's slipping."

"You should just take it off. It's okay; I'm on the pill."

"I'll get there again. Just keep...ugh, keep going."

Faust scoffed at himself. Freydis wasn't stupid, and the limp cock inside of her worsened with the condom. She stopped and signed.

"Sorry... I can't do this. I'm fucking plastered."

It was only half a lie, and when Freydis made a case to keep trying, Faust lifted her off his lap, snapped off the condom, and staggered to the door while pulling his jeans over his ass. He turned around, black hair swinging in his face.

"Sorry, I guess. Hope we're all good," Faust muttered before he left.

Freydis sat on the bed, astounded at the limp condom he'd dropped next to the waste basket.

The journey home was torture and nausea. Faust had spent an hour puking in the airport bathroom and once again into a bag on the plane they had almost missed. His acidic insides emptied, Faust fell into a fitful sleep, interrupted every so often by flight attendants who quickly learned not to bother the man with the long black hair.

On home soil, he threw his bags into a taxi and was carted home, where he fell into bed for hours with an excruciating headache. He couldn't remember a time when he felt worse and told himself he was never going on tour with alcoholic Danish metalheads ever again.

~*~

Despite his long absence, Faith never changed her habits. This made locating her easier than he liked. Faust had hoped to walk by the café where she used to study over a latte and a bagel, only to never find her there. He had hoped her family had moved away, taking his ex-girlfriend too far to contact. But just like everything else in the city, it had all stayed the same. Faith still did the same things she always did: school, working part-time at the bookstore in the mall, and sitting down in front of the window at the café where they had gone countless times for snacks and coffee.

Faith was there now, across the street at the café, sitting outside on the small wrought iron table underneath an umbrella. She wore a light pink sundress with thin shoulder straps and her hair in two braids. Faust wanted to go over and sit down in front of her just to see her big eyes get wider or if she would fidget and stammer, blindsided by his sudden appearance. The sight of her, unaware he was across the street buying cigarettes at the corner store, soured his stomach.

Faust spent a minute preparing for what to say when he approached Faith, but his courage disappeared when a man took the seat across from her and reached out to hold her hand. It wasn't the Esders kid like he had feared. It was worse. He wore a black denim jacket, had long hair, and a face Faust automatically hated.

It was him. Faith was dating a knockoff version of himself.

Faust recognized the guy from around parties and shows. His name was Hunter. He was the kind of guy who bought unlicensed band patches online—the mark of a poser, in Faust's opinion. While the guy rubbed her wrist, Faust thought of one hundred ways to shatter his fingers. How dare he touch her like that, make her smile as he once had, and scoot closer to touch her inner thigh under the table. Faust grinned when she snapped her legs shut, and he snatched his hand away with what Faust assumed was an apology. Good. So she wasn't letting him get too handsy with her yet. Not like when they were together, and she would let him drag her away to any solitary place, so he could touch her between her legs and watch her melt.

But Hunter was not him, and Faith probably hadn't changed. If her libido was the same since they'd met, the chances were high she had already fucked him, and the thought of Hunter having sex with her blistered the inside of his chest. He wanted to grab him by his greasy hair and smash his face into the table so many times he became unrecognizable. The anger itched his palms, his back sweating.

Before Faust acted on his violent thoughts, he turned away and started home, swearing he would never seek Faith out again, though his heart seared from the pain of making himself such a promise.

It wasn't long before Faust saw her again in much closer proximity. One month after he had promised never to think about Faith again—a delusionally optimistic notion—she showed up at a party with Hunter and his buddies, who took various band formations between them. Faust had been in a crust punk band with one of them, failing to play lead guitar. It was a short-lived project, but he still recognized the group. He pretended not to notice Faith, hoping his nonchalance would strike her when she looked up from her phone and realized she had once again stepped into his realm, where she was the outcast, and everyone revered him. She likely heard some news about his tour with Grey Tomb since everyone else was asking him questions about the size of the gigs he had played overseas. In a small house full of a dozen musicians, their girlfriends, and buddies, Faust was the most successful one there, earning him instant popularity. On a regular day, Faust would shun the attention, but now, he craved to wield it; to show her what he had become in the year they'd been apart.

Faith whispered to her new boyfriend and never looked too long at Faust for the first hour. Faust turned it into a game. He looked at her until her eyes ping-ponged from him to a random object in the room, catching her each time she glanced in his direction. It was fun to watch her squirm and fidget. He knew what she was thinking: that being around him as though they were strangers was too heavy for her to act normal.

Two hours in, after Faust had left the room to keep her mind racing, he saw Faith whispering to her new boyfriend in the kitchen between chugs of beer. She was compensating now. Faith hated beer. He flashed the barest smirk as he passed by, never lifting his eyes but knowing her in his peripheral. Yet despite all these things he knew about her, there was a second or third voice in his head trying to calculate what exactly she could be thinking. Did she hate him? Was her night ruined? Was his presence shaking her to her core, or was she succeeding at brushing it off? She couldn't have changed that much in a year, and if she was the same girl he had fallen in love with, her inner dialogue was screaming. And as much as he wanted to catch a hint of their conversation, the music was too loud, and Faust longed to continue ignoring her.

After three hours, Faust was drunk, and the people talking in his ear made him cringe. He had gone around and around on a carousel of shifting emotions. At first, it was easy not to care, but then he saw her staring at him and wanted to stare back. As the drinks poured and it was clear nobody would address the awkward situation between them, Hunter put his arm around her, an innocent move that Faust regarded as a personal slight. How fucking dare he touch his Faith.

No, he told himself. Let her go. She's better off without you.

Then, a hand was on her thigh. Her skirts that once drove him wild now looked whorish. Did she want every man in the room looking at her? And again, Faust screamed internally at himself to leave her be.

But he couldn't, and deep down, they both knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

It happened when Faust, who considered his near-constant observation of them subtle, saw Hunter pull her face forward for a kiss. His heart leaped, and with it, his body instantly at attention, the half-drunk beer bottle now brown shards on the floor. Everyone stopped what they were doing. Hunter barely noticed over the music, but Faith had. She flinched as Faust approached like a train and snatched Hunter up by his jacket lapels.

"Who the fuck do you think you are kissing her in front of me?"

"Stop it right now, Faust. Don't be an idiot!" Faith yelled, butting her palm into his leather-clad shoulder. It only angered him further.

"Woah, man! What the fuck is your problem? You've been broken up forever," said Hunter, clutching at the fist pressing into his neck.

"Faust, dude, don't. Just relax."

Faith hammered Faust's shoulder again. "Let go of him, you prick! We're over!"

Faust immediately dropped Hunter and turned to her, angling down to meet her glower.

"What, I leave for one tour, and now you're with discount me? That's sad, Faith—"

One hard punch to the jaw sent Faust staggering backward, disoriented. Once he blinked away the lights in his eyes, Faith knew there was only one second to get between Faust and Hunter to prevent blood from spilling. Faust's friends had the same idea and held the drummer back, crowding between them to stop a fight.

Faust pointed at Hunter as he was carried away and said, "You better run. You better never let me see you again, or you're fucking dead. Run, motherfucker!"

Outside, Faust screamed. He howled on the sidewalk for Hunter to come out while lights from neighboring houses flicked on. His friends begged him to be quiet, but Faust was undone by his anger and echoing in every direction, ignoring those yelling at him to shut up. He attempted to break the barrier his friends made and hopped up excitedly when the door opened, hoping it was the man whose face he was about to demolish.

Faith stepped out alone, and Faust went quiet. She marched down the walkway, and they parted to allow her access to her flailing ex-boyfriend. She grabbed his arm, sank her nails into the leather, and yanked him away from the house. His friends stood by, muttering and confused. The two of them did not turn back.

~*~

"Sit down. We have to have a serious discussion, Faust. I mean it. Sit down on the bench and listen," said Faith. "You cannot act that way just because I moved on. It's not fair to me! I want to be happy, and you have no right to try ruining that."

Faust paced the length of the bench. "You're not fucking happy."

"Yes, I am!"

"No, you're not. You're pretending. You're a fucking fake. You don't hang around these kinds of people. You came tonight just to piss me off."

"I came here because Hunter and I were invited. I had no idea you'd be here. Otherwise, I definitely wouldn't have come."

"Fuck off, Faith."

"No, you fuck off! What're you gonna do, Faust? Kill him?"

Faust smothered her mouth with his hand and backed her under the tree's shadow away from the lamplight.

"Don't even fucking—don't say that."

Faith pushed him away. "I'm seriously asking. I have no idea what you might do, but I know what you're capable of, and it scares me. You have to promise me you won't hurt Hunter."

"No promise."

"If you can't let me be, I might have to do something drastic."

Faust scoffed. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Like... File a restraining order," Faith said.

Her eyebrows pressed together, and though encased in shadow, Faust could not believe he was seeing her face again. He took a step closer, and she drew up against the tree.

"I can't have you around. If I see him touching you, I will lose my fucking mind, don't you understand? I love you, Faith. I'm afraid of myself when you're not with me."

"That's not my problem."

Faust had barely chipped at her. She crossed her arms, glare unrelenting. No matter how hard he drilled, Faith wouldn't soften for him.

"So that's it then? You're over me?" He asked.

Faith held up her hand and flashed a plain gold ring. "See this? He gave it to me. It's a promise ring."

"A promise to what? Marry you? You're gonna marry him, is that it?"

"Maybe!"

"That cheap little piece of shit ring means nothing, and you know it."

"It has meaning because I give it meaning."

"Okay then, let me ask you something, and be honest," Faust bent at the knees to match her level. "Do you still have the collar I gave you?"

Faith grimaced.

"Tell me the truth. Do you have it? Because that collar means you already belong to someone."

"No, it doesn't! I broke up with you!"

"You haven't gotten rid of it."

"What does it matter?"

"Faith, please," Faust whimpered. "Please, just... I'll never stop. I can't. I've fucking tried."

"Never stop what?"

"Being in love with you."

She dropped her fists to her sides, looking down at her shoes. Faust thought she looked ready to blow up, but instead, she sniffled and began to cry.

Faust cradled her jaw like thin glass balancing in his palms. To his relief, Faith didn't flinch away.

"Tell me you still love me." He whispered. "I know you do, baby."

She whimpered his name and fell into his embrace, sobs quaking through her shoulders. Faust propped her up in his arms and set her back on her feet. Despite her anguish, he fought a smile from spreading across his face. Soon, Faith's blubbering petered into chuckles, and she wiped her wet eyes.

"You really still love me, Faust?"

"Yes, baby! Fucking of course I do."

"Did you come back here because of me?"

"You're the only thing keeping me in this place."

"I... I really missed you, beetle."

Faust clamped her to his chest, stroking her soft hair, her warmth so familiar yet unearned. His eyes clouded as he looked down at the woman crying into his chest, stuck like a burr on his clothes. Her tears seeped through the fabric, and he loved it. The wet spots made his breath falter. A vast calmness silenced the screams in the back of his head, which reminded him of all the terrible he had done. With Faith by his side once more, he was determined to bury their voices and live as though his secrets were only false memories.

~*~

Faith and Faust had made a getaway from the party and went to Faust's basement apartment in a small complex. The place was new and smelled of fresh paint, and when Faith walked in and saw a mostly empty area, the juxtaposition made her head spin and her heart pound. There he was after all this time, a foot of space between his head and the ceiling, his black leather jacket on in front of white, unmarred walls. It was wrong, but watching him shedding his jacket and revealing how thick his arms looked from touring made it seem like they hadn't been apart more than a couple of weeks. It was natural, and she went to him, prepared to deal with the consequences of ditching her current boyfriend for this reunion of two warring energies who thrived only on each other.

He kissed her softly at first, pulled back to assess her expression, and went back in harder when met with a drowsy half-smile. His hand went up her skirt, tracing his fingertips over her panties until her knees shook.

Faith pulled away and said, "I wanna fuck you." Faust needed no convincing. He sat on the bed, dragged her onto his lap, facing away from him, and pulled off her top and bra. Before taking her breasts in his hands, he peeled off his Grey Tomb shirt and cupped them enthusiastically.

"Fuck, baby. Just... Fuck. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," she said, craning her neck to catch his lips again.

She ground in circles on his lap until he was hard and moaning, her addiction to the sound of his voice afresh. Exhilarated by the thought of having sex with her first love again, Faith scrambled under the covers and waited, her smile slowly fading as Faust pulled a strip of three gold-foiled condoms from his wallet. She frowned as though he had revealed something nauseating.

"What the fuck is that look for?" Faust scoffed, tearing open the foil square.

"I... what is that? I don't want that...I want to feel you."

"That's too bad," he said.

Faith scoffed back at him. "I don't have any diseases."

"We've been away from each other for over a year. I don't know what you've done. If I'm fucking you, we're using a rubber."

"But—"

"Besides... You don't know where my cock's been either."

It was a bizarre sight watching him unravel the wet latex circle over his thick cock inch by inch. Faith had never heard of him using condoms before and hadn't used one with him even the first time.

Faust laid down and urged her to climb over him, and though she looked upset, she still swung her leg over his hips and stared down at the latex straining around his shaft.

"You fucked other girls?" She asked.

Faust grasped her thigh and pulled until she shimmied closer to his groin.

"Sit on it," Faust ignored her question. "Come on, baby. Ride it."

"Do we have to? I really wanted to feel you. All of you. Like how we used to fuck."

Faust rolled his eyes. "Don't be a brat, Faith. Or else."

"Or else what?"

"I'll put on two," Faust chuckled.

She swatted him, giggling. "Fine, if this is the only way you'll let me fuck you, I guess that'll have to do."

"That's right, get on it, baby. Easy, easy... Oh... Oh, fuck... Oh, fuck! Fuck, yes, beautiful. Never been so hard in my goddamn life. Fuck me, baby girl. That's it. Nice 'n slow. Good girl."

"Mmph. I forgot how big you are!"

"No, you fuckin' didn't. You remembered damn well how big my cock is. How I split this little pussy open."

Faith rocked herself back and forth with help from his hands on her hips. He screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip. Faith stared down at the man, lost in his pleasure, his mouth changing shapes every time she moved. He was right; Faith hadn't forgotten for a second what sex with him was like, or how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back in ecstasy, or the filthy things he said the moment he was inside. Faust knew it too.

"Did you think about me when you fucked him?" Faust asked, catching her in an awkward spot. Faith didn't expect him to bring up Hunter so soon, and certainly not during sex.

"I... I, um—"

"You can tell me the truth. Did he have a bigger cock than me?"

"N-no! I don't think anyone could. The condom is about to snap because of it. So, you might as well take it off and fuck me raw."

Faust flipped her over and drove himself inside her a few times, slow but hard. She squealed with each thrust.

"Condom stays on."

Faith had more tricks to try on him. "Then how are you supposed to cum inside of me?"

"Did you let him cum inside of you?"

"Faust!"

"I'm serious," he said, leaning down to talk against her cheek while ramming her pelvis and making her quiver. "Did he blow loads inside this pretty pussy? Did he make you shake and cry and cum all over his cock?"

"No, Faust," she whimpered. "I wouldn't let him."

"That's right. 'Cause it's still my pussy. He had his fun with you, but you're back where you belong now... All around my dick. Getting. Fucking. Stretched. Open."

"Make it hurt, baby."

Faust slammed his hips forward several times until she cried out, then eased back to a normal pace.

"You're mine. Fuck, you feel amazing. Pussy's so fucking tight around me. Shit, baby, I'm not gonna last."

Just as Faust approached a groaning orgasm, Faith's phone started ringing in her purse. She looked at the bag, then back at him.

"Is that him calling? Wondering where you are? He has no idea you're with me, does he?"

Faith chewed her lip and couldn't answer.

"I fucking knew it," he said proudly. "Go ahead. Answer the phone."

"What!? No! Faust, that's so mean."

"You're already cheating on him. Just answer the phone and pretend everything's normal."

"I can't."

"I'll take the condom off if you answer the phone while you fuck me. You can have this cock raw if you really want. Make me cum deep inside this perfect little pussy.

"Really?"

"Yes, babe. Go get the phone."

Faust let her up and dropped onto his back while she fished her phone out of her purse. She looked at the screen and scoffed.

"It's just a telemarketer."

"Aw, that's too bad."

"Can we still lose the condom?"

"No. I'm still wearing it."

"That's not fair! I was going to! That should count for something."

Faust stared at her perky nipples, soft curves, and sad face. He smirked something evil.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Call him. Call him and break up with him while you fuck me."

"No! That's so mean! I can't do that."

"Oh, but you can cheat on him perfectly fine?"

"You're not being fair."

Faust nodded at her, then at his groin. "Nothing's fair. Call him. But first, get your hand around my cock."

Just the sight of her fingers trying to fit around his condom-clad shaft made him seethe, and when she put the phone to her ear while slowly jerking him, his chest unfroze after months of being without her. He tried not to moan while she whispered to her fake boyfriend that she couldn't see him anymore. It just wouldn't work with Faust around. The motion of her left hand faltered as the guy's heart broke, and Faust eclipsed her and squeezed, encouraging her to yank off the condom in mid-sentence. Hunter asked, "So, what? Are you with him right now?" And Faust twitched from the blood surge, eyes rolling to the back of his sick head.

Faust got brave and started whispering, Faith scowling and mouthing at him to shut up.

"Yeah, stroke it, baby girl. No more condom. It's all fucking yours."

Faith held the phone away from her face and hissed at him to keep quiet again, wearing a bare hint of a smirk. His sick little girl. His corrupted angel. There she was, begging to come back to him.

He gripped her jaw and wrenched her forward, smothering her mouth and keeping her from answering Hunter's pleas.

"You're mine. Tell him," Faust whispered, licking her lips open to dip his thumb inside her mouth. Faith hummed remorsefully but sucked his thumb all the same, eyes going shiny as she stared into his beautiful green eyes. Whether she liked it or not, she had dreamed of this reunion. In sleep, she always found him with those murderous eyes staring at her like his next meal.

"Get on me."

Faith tossed her phone aside, thumb slipping and maybe not ending the call with Hunter. There was a pinch of guilt in her heart, and then it was gone. It was only him, the love of her life. She climbed over his lap, and his legs stirred beneath her, parting and spreading her thighs ever wider. Faust sank back into the pillows, squeezed her hips, and eased her onto his cock the only way he wanted. With a deep groan, he pulled her forward, rocked her back, and did it repeatedly until she caught the rhythm. Steady and slow.

"I fucking missed you, baby," Faust said.

Faith clung to him and rode desperately, breathing in his hair, kissing his lips, and hanging onto his broad shoulders for leverage. Their breath synced until Faust jutted his hips and struck a gasp from her.

"M-missed you too, beetle. God, I missed your cock."

Faust chuckled, dark and mischievous. "Oh, yeah? S'that all you missed about me, huh? You missed getting fucked hard?"

"I just missed you."

"Oh, I'm absolutely positive your pussy missed me."

Faith covered her mouth, but Faust grabbed her wrist and held it behind her back, bending his knees and bucking his hips upward at a frantic pace he could only sustain for short bursts. It was worth the effort to hear her groaning.

"Don't get all shy. You know I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"I don't know what to say."

"Tell me how you'd close your eyes when he fucked you and pretend it was me."

The scenario was pure fact. Faith had pictured Faust in Hunter's place nearly every day. But the shame overcame her, and she buried her face in his neck and muttered, "Don't make me say it, Faust. You know I did."

His arms encircled her, and he set off on a motion that brought him close to the brink of orgasm. Before he touched the edge, he pressed his forehead to hers and commanded her eyes.

"Rub your clit, baby girl. Do it for me. I want you to cum."

"Mm...Okay."

"That's right. Make it feel good and cum on me."

Faith tried to get close, holding her breath and concentrating on her task until Faust took over. He used two fingers to rub her clit, slowly at first, then quicker. He alternated until he found the right pace, and she moaned. With his cock ramming upward, his hand working its dexterity on her, and his other hand gripping and spanking her ass, Faust coaxed an orchestral orgasm from her that ended in gasping heaves and whimpers that tipped him over the edge too. Hearing her desperate mewls while she tightened around him was the only thing that could ever make him cum. No other woman came close. Even with his eyes shut and Faith on his mind, they simply weren't her.

Under a wash of afterglow, Faith lay on top of him and relaxed to the pulse in his chest and neck. The regrets were sure to come, but it didn't matter. Faust and the appetizing danger that came with him were back.

"I'm so bad," Faith said after a few minutes of deep breathing.

"Yeah... You really are. Cheating on your boyfriend and getting fucked raw... Taking all my fucking cum in your pussy. You're a nasty girl."

"Don't make it worse!"

"You made it what you wanted. You're the one who was all like, 'Please fuck my pussy raw, Faust. Ew, I hate condoms. I know you were gone for a year, but I don't care where that cock's been'!"

"You love me. I know you wouldn't do it if you weren't sure."

Faust played with her hair and chuckled.

"You're right."

"For the record... you're still the only man who's ever cum inside me."

"Damn fucking right. Now, it's quiet time. I'm spent."

"No round two?"

He rolled her over onto her side, pulled her close, and kissed her forehead. "In the morning. I need sleep."

"But—"

"Sleep, brat."

"Alright, fine."

"...I love you."

"I love you, too."

#Valter Skarsgard fanfiction #Valter Skarsgard #Faust x Faith

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vyl3tpwny · 2 years

Text

rediscovering childlike novelty in the context of creating art

theres been a lot of gatekeeping and judgementalness and cynicism that permeates the music spaces i've occupied ever since i started releasing music on the internet. a lot of habits and insecurities i've developed over time, i've slowly been deconstructing and breaking down.

a few things in my mind had become established that were eventually bad habits:

don't use presets

prove myself as a musician, only write what i can play

the first of these tenets is a more obvious hindrance. if you're unaware, there has been — if declining — a stigma from certain musicians with regards to the use of presets. presets are essentially instrument and synth patches that have been programmed and designed by other people (usually by the team behind the instrument or synth).

(the preset menu of the repro-5 synth vst)

i think a lot of people outside music creation may find this stigma odd. what's wrong with using an instrument you didn't make? guitarists don't often build their own guitars, or amps, or anything, rather they curate the parts they think sound best to them. such skepticism is correct and indeed warranted.

yet, there are lots of musicians who will assert that using presets is bad. this mindset permeated my life for a while and anytime i used a preset, i did so in secrecy. the purist would have you believe "ah you must construct every single synth patch you use from scratch or else you are unoriginal and lazy". i'd like to see the same argument be applied to a plumber who didn't make their own wrenches, or a painter who didn't stretch and assemble their own canvas.

it affected me for a long time, especially after my 2017 release of Mystic Acoustics, from where i felt the need to ""prove"" myself as a musician. i started to play lots of piano and guitar and physical instruments outside of my computer and controllers.

but over the past couple of years, i've come to appreciate presets and the diversity they allow me to have in my musical ideas. i am really good at sound design and creating sounds from scratch, i'm not going to be modest about it. i have spent countless hours learning and practicing, mastering sound design and all its fundamental and equally advanced concepts. and yet. despite this, i think there are millions of presets that i simply wouldn't come up with on my own. as an artist, you find the things you're comfortable with and often create out of intuition. the better you get, often times the more you will become comfortable in what you know. exploring and using preset instruments allows me to experiment and play with ideas i didn't actually consider before.

would you ask an illustrator to design and create every single brush from scratch? i feel that this is rhetorical, but i'm inclined to state anyway: no.

if a song sucks, a song sucks. no amount of original sound design or preset using will actually establish this. some of the songs i've hated the most have been completely original from the ground up, and many of the songs i adore have used presets that i could point out to you in my own plugin lists. what matters most is how the artist conjures all these elements together, at whatever personal cost.

this leads me to the other tenet of bad habits: only writing whatever i could play by hand.

as i had mentioned, in 2017 i felt the need to start ""proving myself"" as a musician. i developed this habit of only writing melodies and progressions that i could play by hand. as a result i started to become much more proficient in piano and other instruments. but the fact remained that i was beginning to constrain myself.

i'm not the greatest piano player or anything like that. i don't really want to be either. i just wanna make the best songs i can make. and to do this, i think i should be able to use any tool and idea at my disposal.

still, i fell into this habit of writing stuff based on if i could play it or not. there are some exceptions to this, especially in fairytails. but overall, i've felt like programming and sequencing melodies and progressions wasn't fulfilling enough. not because it wasn't, but because it didn't make me feel like i was proving myself enough.

consider the fact that most classical composers either never played anything that they wrote themselves, or only played one instrument in the composition. many composers, all they did was write down notes on pieces of paper and direct the musicians who would then play it. is this not the purpose of a musician in the songwriting sense?

i'm not sure what changed my perspective exactly, but lately i've been finding myself able to let myself write more stuff through sequencing and programming rather than ensuring i can play it on piano. in tandem with allowing myself more to use preset instruments and synth patches, i feel like i've unlocked a level of creativity that unbinds me from a particular burnout rut.

the be-all, end-all consideration i beg from this musing is to recognize that art is about the artist's vision. it isn't always to do with the specificity, that's up to the artist. i'd like to create a more intensive investigation and examination into these concepts in the future. but i think it's important for people to know that the only cheating that exists in art is if you're stealing or copying something in its entirety 1:1, and even worse if you claim it entirely as your own. art and music is a conversation with the giants whose shoulders we stand upon. none of us invented music or art or any of that. we're just vessels for the ongoing story.

#vylop

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faerietells · 1 year

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Another day, another marriage proposal. This time, it came from a young Lord named Robert, heir of his father's land or so he’d claimed. You admit he does look quite handsome and possibly has quite a few of admirers of his own, but alas, your mind is occupied by a certain mysterious vampire that had paid you a visit few nights ago. As far as you know, she hadn't made any move to kill you again after that night or even show up anywhere in town. It should be good news for you, but you can't help but feel a bit disappointed. After all, you've dolled yourself up everyday ever since that day, hoping she'd be around to see. But it’s okay. You’ve promised her that you’ll wait no matter how long and you intend to keep that promise so you’ll wait for months or even years if you have to.

"So, what do you think, my Lady?"

Robert's question brought your attention back to him and the wistful smile that graced your lips while you were thinking of her immediately faded. You'd think a nobleman like him would've been smart enough to be able to tell that you're not interested, but unfortunately it seems like either he's oblivious or persistent. At this point you’re definitely leaning to the latter. You doubt men like him get rejected often so if you had to guess, he probably thinks he could wear you down.

"What do I think? About what?" you asked in return, clueless as you weren't listening to what he had to say after he spent more than fifteen minutes practically boasting about himself, probably thinking that his achievements and the fact that a lot of women are interested in him would intrigue you. Clearly that backfired spectacularly as his tales bored you out of your mind instead.

"About my proposal, of course," he chuckled a bit too confidently for your liking. "I know, this sounds too good to be true, but—"

"Forgive me, my Lord. But... I cannot accept your proposal," you cut in before he could go on about himself again, offering him an apologetic smile as you did so just to be polite. "I am a woman of humble background. I don't think I know how to be the wife of a Lord such as yourself, so it wouldn’t be wise for you to wed me."

Much to your chagrin, instead of making him rethink his decision, your words seemed to have the opposite effect. “That’s very thoughtful of you, to be concerned of my future as a Lord,” he mused with a soft smile. “But you don’t have to worry! Someone as beautiful as you are doesn’t have to do much. You’d just have to be by my side and I’m sure that alone would be enough to make others envy me.”

It took everything from you not to grimace. Clearly he only wants a wife he could parade around and who could be better than the most beautiful girl in town? As much as the idea of marrying a Lord sounds tempting, you can’t imagine yourself being with someone like him, who clearly only values you for your beauty and nothing else. What would happen when you grow older and your beauty begins to fade? You don’t even want to waste time thinking about it.

“That is very kind of you, my Lord, but I still have to decline. I’m afraid I’m not ready for a marriage yet,” you declined for the second time, with firmer tone this time. You’d hoped he’d understand your reasoning and move on, but of course that’s not the way it is with men like him. No, you already could feel that uncomfortable feeling in your chest as his smile was replaced by a confused frown.

“Forgive me for being blunt, but you’re, what, past the age of twenty now? You’re almost past the age to be married,” he said, his tone almost sounds sympathetic. “This opportunity does not come easily, my Lady. I’d advise you to really reconsider.”

Wow, what a charmer, you thought sarcastically. If you weren’t repulsed by him before, you are definitely repulsed now. Not only he can’t take rejection with grace, he also thought saying such things would help his case? Perhaps his admirers only like him for his wealth, after all, because not even his good looks could help him mask that horrendous personality.

You were about to open your mouth when a familiar presence showed up next to you, causing your words to be stuck in your throat as you looked at her.

The mysterious lady.

She’s here. She’s really here. You didn’t even hear her approaching, she just suddenly stepped next to you with a sweet smile on her face. A false smile, you figured, the one you’d seen her wear when she’s interacting with other people. There’s something different about this one, though. It feels more… hostile, somehow. Your eyes met briefly as you stared at her in awe before she returned her attention to the man in front of you.

“My, what’s this? Are you proposing to another woman? I thought I was the love of your life,” she spoke in a mocking manner, yet despite that her voice still lure you in like a siren’s song that you nearly forgot the young Lord is still there. It seems to you that they’ve met, which isn’t surprising since he seems to have an eye for beauty. Doesn’t seem like they like each other, though.

“Isabel,” he spoke with contempt, the way he said her name made you think it was a curse.

“Hello, Robert. Still can’t handle rejection, I see,” she said before her false smile vanished and she let out a bored sigh. “Leave the poor girl alone. She’s clearly not interested.”

“You don’t speak for her.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But I do have eyes and I could easily see that you’ve overstayed your welcome. So, if you would…” she let her words trail off as she waved her hand, wordlessly shooing him away.

You can’t help but worry that things would escalate as you see how he’s looking at her like he wants to hurt her, but she remains unfazed despite how angry he looks. Knowing how strong she was when she pinned you to the ground, she most likely wouldn’t have a problem doing the same to this man. Thankfully, nothing happened. It seems to you that he somehow knows that he’d lose too so instead of getting aggressive, he just clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply in attempt to calm himself down and not make a scene before he gave you a restrained smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“It seems that our discussion is cut short for now. We will continue this conversation another day,” he told you. You averted your gaze, not wanting to spare him another second of attention. That caught the lady’s attention as she immediately let out a giggle, which earns her a death glare from him. “Have a great day, Miss,” he said through gritted teeth before he stormed away with the bouquet of roses you didn’t accept.

You watched as he walked away before you glanced at the woman next to you. Isabel. Is that her name? A fitting name for such an enchanting woman, you suppose. The amused look on her face vanished almost immediately the second she’s certain that Robert had actually left and you let out a tiny gasp when she finally turned her attention to you, your cheeks turn pink as she gave you her full attention.

“Thank you for jumping in,” you tell her sheepishly, offering her a tiny yet sincere smile of gratitude. She stared at you for a bit with this unreadable look on her face before letting out a huff.

“You must really not like him to feel thankful despite the fact that I nearly killed you just few nights ago. Have you forgotten or are you truly as mad as I think you are?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten…” your voice progressively gets quieter as she leaned closer to you, as if trying to look for something. Fear, you think. But instead of scaring you, the close proximity caused your face to redden even more as you stare right into her mesmerizing ruby eyes, your heart beating wildly against your ribcage. She’s going to be the death of me, you thought with acceptance.

Knowing how sharp vampire’s senses are, you don’t doubt she could tell how she’s affecting you. You’re guessing that’s why she looks so baffled. “So you weren’t just pretending to like me to survive,” she muttered, more to herself than to you.

“O-Of course not!” you quickly replied defensively, not wanting her to think that you’re simply feigning your adoration for her. “I’ve waited, you know! I’ve waited for you for days!”

“Oh, I know,” she said, much to your surprise.

“You do?”

She seems to just realize what had come out of her mouth as she seemed caught off guard, but she quickly pulled herself back and cleared her throat in a weak attempt to hide her embarrassment. “Anyway,” she decided to change the subject, “Worry not. I’ve lost interest in draining you of your blood.”

“Oh?” You tried not to get your hopes up, but you can’t help it. Even if she’s not interested in you that way, you hope her losing interest in killing you wouldn’t mean that she’d never show up here again. Just thinking about it saddens you and you prayed to any god that would listen that that’s not the case.

“Yes! You may rejoice, if you wish! I would take no offense from it,” she told you as she checks her painted nails, feigning disinterest. When you made not even a peep of celebration, she glanced at you only to see how you somehow look both hopeful and concerned. “Did you not hear me? I said you may rejoice.”

“I heard you, but…” you hesitated. “What does it mean, then? Would you not visit me again?”

The sadness in your voice is hard to miss and her eyes widened in surprise as she felt a pang in her heart. Her lips slightly parted as she stares at you in disbelief, her brain short-circuited at the sight of your sad puppy look. This is indeed strange. She had never been weak before, but she definitely feels like you could’ve made her fight against the gods themselves if you ask. What is this? Magic? She wondered, a bit disconcerted by the warmth blooming in her chest. The feeling is foreign to her, and she doesn’t know what to make of it. She’s not a coward, however, so she decides that perhaps being near you would help her to understand why you hold such a power over her. Yes, only to figure that out, of course. It’s not like she wants to be near you at all times or anything.

“Well, no, of course not!” She quickly averts her gaze again, acting as if her maroon nails are the most interesting thing she’d ever seen to hide her embarrassment just for thinking how she’d like to be close to you. “I have a score to settle with that Lordling and I’m sure he’d return. What better way to ensure he wouldn’t escape me rather than being near the object of his affection?”

“Oh.” Although you’re a bit disappointed with her reasoning, you figured it’s better than nothing. Who knows, maybe she’d find your company enjoyable and decide to stay with you for good! The idea of her being around all the time filled your head with joy as a bright smile found its way to your face before you could stop it. “Well, you are always welcome to my home,” you tell her cheerfully as you tilt your body slightly so you could be in her line of sight. She noticed this, of course, but she opted to pretend like she didn’t despite the barely noticeable pink tint on her cheeks.

“Inviting a vampire into your home. What foolish decision you make, little mouse.”

A soft delighted giggle escaped you in response of her playful remark, causing her to be unable to hold back her smile. This is uncharted territory for the both of you, but neither of you are in a rush. After all, there’s much to learn about each other. Perhaps in time, she’d grow to like you but until then, you’re happy to just have her around.

#monster x reader #monster girlfriend #monster lover #monster romance #vampire #vampire x reader #self insert reader #female reader #teratophillia #terato #exophilia #drabbles

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epenvs3000w24 · 4 months

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Unit 5: Bits and Bobs

Reading there was no prompt this week was thrilling! I'm not as enthused after trying to rewrite this post 3 times, each with different topics. Taking a break from this weekly task, I scrolled through my camera roll as I do pretty often. I enjoy making albums on my phone like I do Spotify playlists. Scrolling through the albums today, I looked at one I do from time to time titled Bits and Bobs.

In the hustle and bustle of my life, I don't recall sitting and having a moment for myself, jumping between school, sports practices, volunteering, school clubs, homework, dinner and sleep. Repeat. My weeks were a cycle I could not escape. When I reached Grade 12, I was burnt out. My mind was consumed by how I was possibly going to write my IB exams worth 80% of my grade and balance all of the extracurriculars overflowing on my plate. Then, on March 13, 2020, everything in my life halted. For the first time since I was 5, I had no obligations! I could do ANYTHING I wanted, yet nothing crossed my mind. To be fair, like most people, my options were limited to my neighbourhood. For the first 3 months, I watched TV like it was my job. Honestly, it was ideal that I finally took a break to sit down and relax. However, once summer rolled around, and I quit my job as a couch potato, I enjoyed being outside the most, partly because I had spent 3 months indoors watching TV and partly because I had never had the opportunity to spend much time outside before. Whether riding my bike with my mom or going to the Escarpment with my dad, it was so far removed from anything I had ever done before. In this slower-paced environment, I discovered activities I had not realized I enjoyed. Further from these activities, I started to find value in being present, acknowledging the time and place I occupied, and taking everything in like a sponge. Importantly, what I can see, hear, touch, smell and taste. These became my bits and bobs.

Since embarking on university, it has been challenging to pause and catch my breath when my thoughts are racing with the numerous assignments I have to complete. In times like midterm season, I can't help but think how common it is for people to get caught up in the routine of their daily lives without taking the time to savor the present moment truly. Writing this blog post now and reflecting on 2020 reminds me that it is important to value the small moments of peace and contentment that I encounter day to day. For me, these seemingly insignificant "bits and bobs" are reminders to pause and reflect, urging me to slow down and find peace in the simple moments of life.

#envs3000

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stellocchia · 3 years

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Since I really enjoyed yesterday's stream I decided to do one of my overly long analysis on it

So, here's my analysis of (DSMP LORE) Healthy Competition

Dialogues will be color-coded as usual, so here's what I used: Phil, Wilbur, Ranboo

As always I am incapable of brevity, so everything's under the cut

The stream starts with a conversation between Phil and Wilbur in which Wilbur admits that he hasn't been to visit Phil in a while, which makes Phil's later threat about throwing him out feel that much more ridiculous since Wilbur clearly doesn't really live with him either way...

"Alright, it's got one for Phil, one for Ranboo, and one for Techno. Is that all that live here? Just you three?" "Yep, just us three, just chilling"

The only reason why I'm singling this out is that it was right after the mention of Techno's birthday and Wilbur was pointing at the seats occupied by the 4 members of the Syndicate so it feels slightly weird that Niki wasn't mentioned at all. But also it's technically not a lie, she doesn't live there and she only comes around for the Syndicate meetings.

Another thing to add is that Wilbur did notice the chest Ranboo left for him and consciously decided to ignore it.

"I must admit I've come to you with a bit of a- a bit of a proposition. You're into propositions Phil? Are you a bit of a 'propositions' kinda guy?" "Oh, depends, depends. You- you've had some pretty... let- let's just say, uh- not- not a great track record on propositions that you've had in the past" "Alright... I mean, I'm trying to move past that"

I wonder what exactly Phil is referring to here. Because, like, Wilbur did bad things, don't get me wrong, but what's his track record with "propositions" in particular? Because he isn't talking about "Tommy, let's be the bad guys" here since he doesn't know about that. Is he talking about Wilbur founding L'Manburg? But then again, I don't think Wilbur interpreted it that way. I think that, from Wilbur's reaction, he clearly interpreted it as a jab at him exploding L'Manburg (which is the one thing he's trying to move past) which would be extremely hypocritical from Phil since he did the exact same thing but worse.

Also, I really do think that Wilbur is trying to move forward. He's lonely and he has the lowest possible opinion of himself so it doesn't feel weird that he'd want to move on. He isn't putting the work in it right now and he hasn't really changed, but he does seem to want to (though I think he may not know how).

"He [Quackity] didn't seem afraid of me, which is cool. Not many people- I mean you don't seem afraid of me. You aren't afraid of me, are you Phil?" (little look into Wilbur's mind and his fear of isolation once again. And this is fear of isolation, he's worried that other people are afraid of him and therefore are only waiting for him to step out of line so that all their fears would be confirmed)

"'Cause I'm not afraid of you [Phil]" (bold words for someone who spent who knows how long lying to his dad because of a crippling fear of disappointment...)

"Technoblade spent his entire time taking down the establishments, what he left is, as predicted, a power vacuum for a new establishment to come in" (in case it wasn't obvious, Wilbur is not the biggest fan of anarchy. And he actually got this one criticism spot on, indeed all taking down L'Manburg did was getting 4 new governmental-like structures to sprout in its place)

"Phil, I want to make a burger van" *Phil sighs and walks away* (I'm more sure now that Phil really meant "creating L'Manburg" as Wilbur's bad track record with propositions)

Wilbur repeating 4 times that he has no ulterior motive with the burger van managed to make me think the exact opposite. That said that ulterior motive may just be to create a safe little home for himself and Tommy for all we know honestly. Also, the whole thing with Phil trying to convince his grown-ass kid to go play with the neighbor kid and Wilbur throwing a tantrum in response was hilarious...

"If he's [Ranboo] shit you gotta come help me okay? If he's shit you've gotta come be burger boy with me, okay?" (he still is mistrustful to an extreme and pretty childish admittedly)

"Why is he [Phil] treating me like a kid?! Why is he treating me like a little baby?" (remembering how Wilbur treated Fundy I think it may be a family problem)

Another interesting thing to point out is that Wilbur was openly scared of the spider attacking him here, and fights it off, but he doesn't move away from the explosion later on and he didn't move away from the exploding creepers last stream. Other people already made this connection, but I do think it may be a sort of way to punish himself. Specifically, it's brought up later on that he thinks he got off easy for what he did, so he's using what he hurt others with (explosions) to hurt himself now as a sort of punishment for that. Which is another indication of just how much his stay in Limbo didn't help with his mental health.

"Am I being- is this [Ranboo having both cows and wheat] a setup?" (the paranoia never left)

"Ranboo I'm gonna go out on a limb here: do- do you wanna be friends?" "Su-sure yeah, I don't see why not" (I think that at this point it was still just Wilbur following along with what his dad told him to do and trying to find out more about Ranboo. That does seem to change later down the line)

"And then we decided that it [the 'cookie' outpost] was too much trouble so we kinda just left it" (So we have confirmation that the cookie outpost was abandoned)

"We're not gonna annoy Quackity" "That's good" "We can't annoy- we can't annoy him because we're simply put- we're simply put gonna be making...- I got the real estate! He's giving me the area and we're gonna be making a competing business"

Wilbur says this as if he wasn't perfectly aware that this would annoy the sh*t out of Quackity. As if the point of it wasn't exactly to annoy Quackity. Or well, annoying him isn't the end goal, it's just the means to an end. We don't know the actual end goal (though I think Wilbur still wants to either be let into Las Nevadas or actually instate a rivalry between them as he said, one of the two).

"We [he and Quackity] were a part of the same cabinet during New L'Manburg or whatever" "Cabinet?" "Yeah a cabinet is like-" "Was this- was this with Tubbo?" "Yeah yeah" (...) "So you were part of the old L'Manburg? I didn't know that actually, I thought you were a bit of an independent"

Once again: Wilbur is missing A LOT of knowledge. He wasn't aware that New L'Manburg had a cabinet and he wasn't aware that Ranboo was ever part of the country either. He has a lot of misconceptions about what happened during the time he was dead so it really shouldn't be a surprise to anyone that his views on a lot of things are as warped as they are. Wilbur is getting to his conclusions with an incomplete and sometimes wrong set of data.

"Do you dislike anyone Ranboo?" "Not too much I don't think. I mean there are other people I don't, like, agree with what they've done of course, but I think that everyone is just a product of what they've gone through and everything so if you understand that then you understand the person!"

There is nothing inherently wrong with Ranboo's reasoning here. It's true that most people are a result of their environment and, once you understand what they've been through you can understand them better as a person. It's also fine that he personally doesn't want to hold grudges. But that way of thinking isn't applicable to those who have been hurt by others, sure they can reach an understanding, but an understanding of a person doesn't justify shit and doesn't change shit unless that person works towards repairing old broken relationships. It just all sounds like a nice way of thinking about things in theory, but in practice, it just takes away responsibility from those who have wronged others to fix things and moves it to those who have been wronged. (Ranboo isn't advocating for everyone to think that way though, but I know the fandom will).

Either way, they arrive in Las Nevadas and Wilbur talks about how their place doesn't benefit the consumer and puts down 3 signs.

"I've been trying to think of a name for it [his and Tommy's area], I'm thinking about 'Paradise'"

There are two possible reasons for the name that I can think of:

1) It's in reference to Las Nevadas itself and how Las Nevadas is based on Las Vegas, the famous city of sin

2) It could be a reference to Tommy insistently calling Las Nevadas Paradise in the last stream and Wilbur trying to convince him that their place is the true Paradise

Wilbur does decide to make the Burger Van right at the border which really feels like a very obvious provocation. The other thing is that he makes it clear that he wants the van to be red and white which could be a random choice, but really feels like a reference to Tommy (since they are famously his colors) or an imitation of their opposition. Or both considering how much Tommy liked the restaurant of the opposition and the fact that Wilbur is still trying to convince him to stay.

"I'm not very fond of blue" (at this point it's obvious that Wilbur has quite a bit of pent-up animosity against Ghostbur. I wonder if it is because it still feels like people liked the ghost more than him...)

"Like, the Cookie Shop, I don't even know if it was a cookie shop, to begin with, because it was a little... fortified if I'm entirely honest, I realize that now" "Really?" "Yeah did you not see- oh wait- that giant stone structure?" (Ranboo really did fail to realize that the cookie shop was actually a military outpost, huh?)

"See, I like Tubbo. He's strong-headed, he doesn't let people push him around, you know?" (this is both an interesting change in what he thinks of Tubbo if he actually thinks that and further confirmation that Wilbur isn't a fan of people he considers to be 'followers')

"Why do you claim that you're so 'peaceful' and 'neutral' and yet somehow appear in almost every conflict this server's had since I died?" (since I saw people claiming this is manipulation already, just know that it isn't. He's just confused because, admittedly, Ranboo is a confusing guy and Wilbur doesn't really know him at all)

"Ranboo, why did you come to help me?" (...) "And then also I just think, you know... you can, you know- I think- I think you're an alright person, you know? So I wanna- I did kinda wanna get off on a better foot with you then what happened-" "Why?" "Just because I don't really like having the thought that people don't really like me" "Nonononono not the bit about the right foot, the 'why don't you think I'm a bad person'" "Well I mean, I think that you did bad things, but like, I think that you also went through things that made you that way and then I also think that you've changed now (...) but I think that now you've- apparently you've been away long enough that I think that if anyone goes away for that long eventually they'll have a thought about their morality and everything and maybe become a better person because of it"

I know this quote was absurdly long, but it is one of the most interesting conversations of the whole stream and it is really important and it tells us quite a bit as well. For one thing Wilbur was left quite emotional from someone simply admitting that he's an "alright person" and that they think he's capable of changing and this does bring him to open up to Ranboo right after. What Ranboo says to be exact is that anyone would have changed after going through what Wilbur went through and that change could be positive and while I completely disagree with it, it's clearly something that Wilbur needed to hear.

Now as to why I disagree with the notion that 13 years of semi-complete isolation could change anyone for the better should be rather obvious. But if it isn't, well, that's torture to put it simply. Psychological torture. Just like abuse it's one of those things that only cause trauma and a worsening mental health state and we see this with Wilbur because he didn't change, he only became more self-deprecating. Hurting someone doesn't make them become a better person all of a sudden, that's really not how it works. Hurting someone makes them become more traumatized.

"I think I scare people" ( as I said, immediately opening up about his insecurities)

"I think that a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to- trying to keep me from hurting them" (for a bit here Wilbur talks about how he feels like everyone else is just waiting for him to step a foot out of line, which does really show that he's still interpreting all his interactions with people through the lens of his paranoia and self-deprecation, because no one is really interacting with him with that objective in mind)

"Dream's had his comeuppance and I've not" (this seems to be the crux of Wilbur's insecurity. This idea that he got off scot-free for his crimes, the idea that the only difference between him and Dream is the punishment that's been bestowed upon them which, of course, is wrong, but he doesn't know this, because he doesn't actually know why Dream's in prison)

"I've been investing into the wrong areas Ranboo, I've been investing into the wrong people" (This is either a reference to Tommy, to Phil, to Quackity, or to all of them)

"We're kindred man, we get each other" (the reason why he thinks that is because he seems to think that Ranboo has a similar type of paranoia to what Wilbur experience himself and he's not entirely wrong. Ranboo is deathly afraid of conflict and of being disliked so much so that he never stands up for anything in fear of angering others)

Little definition of "neuroticism" for you all since Wilbur kept mentioning it: neuroticism, one of the Big 5 personality traits, is typically defined as a tendency toward anxiety, depression, self-doubt, and other negative feelings.

I'd say it's quite fitting for both characters...

"I feel like life dealt us the same cards and the difference is that you built your trust by showing people your cards whilst I- I keep them close to my chest and I feel like that may be the big difference" (I felt like this was interesting. Especially knowing how much Ranboo actually doesn't share and how much he actually also keeps close to his chest)

They talk about tubbo in general for a bit and about what's been going on the server in general. Ranboo also that he's part of both Snowchester and the arctic commune (mostly the latter though).

"This has been chill, this has been good, I'm excited to show Tommy. What's your opinion on Tommy?" "Oh, he's- he's great. Tommy's awesome" "I agree I agree" "Definitely gone through a lot but I think that it's made him a good person" "Well you seem to think that everyone going through something at least gives them some merit you said" "I mean, yeah. I mean if- if no one- the only really bad people are the ones who are just evil because- just because and they don't have any reason why"

Included the whole thing here because if I stopped at Ranboo saying that Tommy going through trauma is what made him a good person it would have sounded really bad. As things are I think that that was just poor wording on his part and that this mostly goes back to the mentality he expressed before about how people sometimes do bad things because of the environment they're in pushing them and this idea he seems to have that actual hardships (like 13 years in Limbo or whatever he knows about what Tommy has been through) can encourage people to be better which is... sort of naive honestly. Again, trauma isn't a catalyst for the betterment of a person, and any improvement Tommy has made came from his self-reflection, not what he's been through.

After they're done with the van Wilbur brings Ranboo to their competing establishment and asks him to smash the windows, which Ranboo does with no hesitation whatsoever. After that Wilbur proceeds to place down one single block of TNT in a corner and Ranboo starts being a little more hesitant.

"You trust me right?" (I feel like that was a trick question considering how their common paranoia is the thing that Wilbur praised in Ranboo before)

Wilbur hands Ranboo the flint and steel to detonate the piece of TNT which Ranboo does, albeit with some hesitation.

"You passed the test, good job man, you go back to the van (...) Ranboo- Ranboo... I'm proud of you man. You've taken a side, you've proven that you can choose a side"

Quite a few people have already pointed out how similar this scene was to the time Wilbur tested Tommy in season 1 to decide if he was fit to be his right-hand man. In both situations, Wilbur gave someone a chance to cause some destruction against someone on the opposite side. Tommy passed the test by refusing to do so and showing that he was willing to uphold his morals and what he believed in. Ranboo passed the test by doing the exact opposite, by showing that, as much as he talks about how he chooses people and not sides, he's not willing to prove that even when all he would need to do to do so is doing nothing.

And it's an interesting scene to analyze as a parallel to that, but it's also interesting to note that Wilbur knows about Ranboo and Tommy griefing George together. He knows that Tommy was the only one to face any consequences for it (not that exile was actually the consequence for the griefing, but this is from Wilbur's point of view). Now putting this in the context of Wilbur seeing himself in Ranboo and thinking that he himself got off scot-free explains this next part perfectly in my opinion.

It explains why he made sure to leave this sign:

To me at least. This is only a theory honestly, we don't have an actual full explanation. But I do think that Wilbur may feel like the both of them never got the comeuppance they deserved, which is why he did something that's sure to get a reaction from one of the most powerful people on the server. Though considering that he also left 2 diamonds as retribution + a chest with all the materials he picked up it could have also been Wilbur's idea of a bonding moment and he could actually really be proud of Ranboo.

#long post #dream smp #wilbur soot #philza #ranboo #c!wilbur #c!ranboo #dream smp analysis #character analysis #stream analysis #tw self-harm #tw self-deprecation #tw torture mention #tw abuse mention #I'm sure there are plenty of things I missed #but this was all for now

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papipopsicle · 3 years

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AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

#fanfic #fanfiction #riverdale #archie andrews #archie x reader #archie andrews x reader #archie #Riverdale imagine #riverdale fluff #riverdale smut #riverdale imagines #archie imagine #fluff #smut

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green-socks · 3 years

Text

Endless Nights

Pairing: Benny Miller x gn!reader (no descriptions or pronouns)

Summary: You and Benny can't seem to get enough of each other's company. Could tonight be the night you find the courage to do something about that crush?

Words: 2,101

Warnings: Nudity but not the sexual kind, food/eating. Almost zero editing and a tired writer.

Notes: I don't always participate in Writer Wednesday, but when I do I take one look at the picture, get an idea and then go completely off the rails. Sorry. So the pic doesn't really have a lot to do with the rest of the fic but I hope that's okay. For this week's @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday, thanks for organizing it every week!

I had the idea for midnight shopping at the supermarket with Benny and then realized I didn't want the night to end there... So it didn't. I actually like this piece, even if it probably suffered a lot from my fast writing and non-existent editing. Reader is mentioned having shorter legs than Benny but other than that I think there are no descriptions or pronouns used of reader, lmk if I'm wrong.

MASTERLIST

You and Benny have been driving around aimlessly for a couple of hours already, taking turns in picking the music, and talking about this and that while sometimes falling into a companionable silence. It still amazes you how easy and comfortable everything is with him. You have never felt like this with a crush before, used to the feeling of always obsessing over what you felt like you could and couldn’t say or do, or spending a lot of time and energy into trying to figure out what the other thought.

No, with Benny you don’t have to pretend anything or force yourself to keep the conversation running in fear of those horrid awkward silences, because both of you know that you can talk for hours on end when the mood strikes. You met through mutual friends only a few weeks ago, but the connection was clearly there. As was the obvious mutual attraction.

Strictly speaking, though, you and Benny are just friends. Nothing has ever really happened to indicate otherwise in any case. But friends don’t usually try this hard to find any excuse just to hang out, nor do you stay up late every night talking to your other friends. And when you hang out in a group you always seem to gravitate towards one another. What’s more, somehow it always seems to be just the two of you left at the end of the night, often not even noticing the others leave.

Your interactions always border on the line of obvious flirting with your touches and already formed inside jokes, but neither of you ever dare do anything that couldn’t be brushed off as innocent behavior between friends. You guess you’re both just kind of scared to take the leap - you have been burned before, and so has he.

It’s not that you doubt your own feelings for Benny, or indeed his feelings for you. Even you have to admit that he does seem pretty interested in you, but you still wave away your friends’ squeals of “he’s totally in love with you!”, mainly not wanting to get your hopes up too much.

Because a small part of you still finds it a little hard to believe; someone so handsome and funny and kind wanting to be with you? What if he likes you, but just not as much as you like him? What if you were just a second choice for someone you really like until something better comes along - again? That scares you, both of you.

Tonight has been like many other nights lately; you had been to the movies with some of your friends, but after the movie ended you had been grasping at straws to come up with a way to continue the night so they (Benny) wouldn’t go home just yet. Benny had helpfully suggested just driving around and seeing if any ideas came to mind.

Santiago in turn had rolled his eyes at you two knowingly (making both you and Benny fluster and try to fake complete nonchalance) before saying good night and leaving with the others, who apparently didn’t feel the compulsive need to continue spending time together.

--------

The sun has gone down already but you two are still enjoying each other’s company too much to go home yet.

You end up in the 24/7 supermarket parking lot, craving a midnight snack. You are reminded of your teenage years, when you used to hang around different parking lots, popping into the store to buy a soda or a candy bar, spending all day outside with friends.

The only other customers doing their midnight shopping are tired people just off their shifts or young people staying up late just for the hell of it, much like you and Benny are, in fact. You wander around the huge store together, pointing out different products you’d like to try and reviewing stuff one of you already has tried.

Before long you realize that you have already spent almost forty minutes idly wandering around the supermarket, collecting new soda or chip flavors to test. Neither of you thought to grab a basket at the entrance, so your arms are starting to get a bit full.

“Benny, do you think this might be enough?” you ask while struggling to maintain your hold on the different bags of chips.

Benny looks back at you from where he is pondering over whether to get some ice cream. “Huh, I guess. I do still wanna get a sandwich, though!” he exclaims and promptly takes off in the direction of the deli counter where they sell sandwiches and salads left over from the day.

You try to keep up with his long strides, certain that you must look a bit comical half-running after a man with your hands full of treats. Oh, well. Benny often complains about how much focus it requires of him to “modify his steps” to fit your much shorter legs, and he always forgets about it when he gets excited.

When you catch up with him, he has already picked a sandwich for himself and one for you. “I got you salmon, that’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah, thanks!” you say a little breathlessly after your speed-walk, taken that he remembers.

As you finally get to the cash register and start loading your stuff in your bag you see Benny sneak one more candy bar among the rest of your purchases. For someone in such good physical shape he sure does like his candy.

“Where to next?” Benny inquires as you get back to the car.

“Hmm, how about this one waterfront type swimming spot? It’s pretty secluded, has a pier, and there’s a nice view to the sea. I sometimes like to sit there on the cliffs to watch the sun go down,” you suggest, and offer him directions to the place.

It’s a short drive and you show Benny where to park his car. Even though it’s somewhere around 1 a.m. and the sun went down hours ago, the night is still light enough that you can easily see where you’re going and it doesn’t feel like you’re just sitting in the dark.

You settle down on the small pier with your sandwiches and sodas and chips and munch away happily.

Benny hands you the candy bar you saw him grab earlier at the cash register “for dessert”. It has a cheesy text on the packaging about giving this to someone special. He grins and shrugs, “I know you love these”.

It’s such a simple gesture but you can’t help feeling really flattered and even more smitten with him than you already were. You don’t read too much into the text on the packaging, but even the fact that he would buy you a candy bar he knows you love - just because - warms your heart.

(What you don’t know is that the candy bars have lots of different texts to choose from, and that Benny specifically picked “give this to someone special” instead of “give this to a friend”. There was also “give this to someone you love”, but Benny worried that might scare you off.)

--------

After you’re both done with snacking you try to think of what to do next, still reluctant to pronounce this night to be over, you get an idea.

“You know what I would really like to do right now?” you ask Benny, looking out over the water that looks so tempting. “Go swim,” you announce, turning to look at him.

“You don’t have a swimsuit with you, do you?” Benny asks, turning to look at you too.

“No… But there’s no one here,” you point out with your eyebrows raised in challenge.

Benny looks at you for a few beats with a blank expression on his face, before shrugging “Alright,” and throwing off his hoodie and t-shirt, jeans following next. “What are you waiting for?” he shouts over his shoulder as he jumps from the pier into the water.

You’re left sitting there with your mouth open, blinking rapidly as you try to catch up with the fast turn of events. Shaking your head, you stand up and shrug off your clothes before quickly running after Benny and getting into the refreshing water.

The night is still warm, and the water feels wonderful. You swim to catch up with Benny.

“You know, it’s pretty dark here but I’ve basically seen you naked now,” he remarks, waggling his eyebrows, and you snort with laughter.

“Benny, you’re not allowed to make me laugh in the water or I’ll drown,” you try to say sternly.

“Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t let you drown,” he answers in a surprisingly serious voice.

Suddenly the energy between you is full of.. something. Something new and buzzing, sort of scary but also exciting. Something you can’t quite explain. You’re swimming around each other, looking at each other intently, but not daring to say anything that would break the moment and burst the bubble.

Someone else does that for you.

A couple of teenage girls, you’d guess around 18 years old, stumble on to the pier and immediately notice you two in the water. The other girl lets out a shriek and tightens her hold on the towel around her, and before you can even try to reassure them that everything is fine, they run off giggling and shrieking some more. Evidently, they had had the same idea for a nighttime swim but found the place already occupied.

“Yeahhhh, maybe we should put some clothes on before someone calls the police,” Benny suggests dryly.

You two climb out of the water giggling and grinning broadly. You don’t have any towels with you since you didn’t exactly plan this impromptu skinny-dipping session, but Benny gives you his hoodie to help keep you warm.

Sitting back down next to Benny you’re even closer together now than earlier, ever so slowly inching closer and closer to each other. Both of you think you could pass it off as huddling for warmth if the other were to question it, but somehow you know that won’t be an issue.

Soon enough you’re snuggling together on the waterfront overlooking the sea. You stay quietly like that for some time, maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more. It’s hard to tell when the world is so still and quiet around you.

Suddenly you think that this is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. In all honesty you sort of enjoy the pining stage of new relationships, but right now you feel like you might burst if you keep these feelings inside you any longer.

You turn and burrow your head into the crook of his neck and decide that you will have to take the leap now. You start pressing gentle kisses on his neck and hear Benny’s breath hitch at the first contact of your lips on his skin. He goes still as a statue, but you can feel more than hear his unsteady breathing at your actions. You’re practically vibrating with nervous excitement as you work your way up to his jaw and towards his lips.

Taking one final deep breath you close your eyes, not daring to look at Benny in the eye right now, as you bring your lips to meet his.

The kiss is sweet and unhurried, and yet your head is swimming and your whole body is buzzing with it as you melt into each other. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, which just proves that everything really is different - better - with Benny. You pull away when you find yourself quickly out of breath just from feeling so much.

You finally dare to open your eyes to find Benny gazing at you with a dazed expression that surely mirrors your own and you slowly beam at each other, not feeling the need for words just now. Maybe you couldn’t even find them if you tried.

You settle back against his chest and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the night, sometimes spending long moments just kissing each other, sometimes talking quietly, sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence.

--------

Around five in the morning, when the sun is already getting up, you finally start to really feel the need for sleep. But this time it doesn’t feel wrong to leave and go home, since you’ll be going home together.

Later that day you wake up to a good morning, sweetheart in Benny’s arms where you fell asleep on his couch, tired but happier than you’ve ever felt in your life.

#benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x reader #benny miller x gn!reader #benny miller x you #triple frontier fanfiction #i still don't know what i'm doing #i accidentally wrote something #writer wednesday #garrett hedlund fanfiction

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (2/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! This is the second half of the request, featuring Rosé and Lisa. If you want to see the first part, with Jisoo and Jennie, click the link below. I hope you enjoy!

Click for Jisoo and Jennie

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Rosé

Park Chaeyoung: The girl who hung with the wrong crowd.

Your problem lied more so with the people she associated with than her herself. You couldn't wrap your head around why such a kind person like her would spend time with the class clowns and bullies, and to make matters worse, she would stick up for them as well.

She spent most of her days in either the art or music room, creating the masterpieces that her brain came up with.

But as soon as school was over, she'd be hanging out with them again and getting into trouble. For instance, because of her talents, they would invite her to go with them and graffiti various hot spots around town. She never vandalized any monuments or landmarks of importance -- she typically stuck to bridges or abandoned buildings -- but after getting caught with them multiple times, it was inevitable for her to be held accountable.

She was given a week's detention to make up for her actions

You, coincidentally, had a teacher that absolutely loathed you for no reason at all. No matter how good of a student you were for him, he didn't care; he had a vendetta against you for some reason, and he patiently waited for the opportunity to ruin your day.

You came in literally 10 seconds after the bell rang, putting the breakfast sandwich you stopped to get on the way into your mouth so you could open the door. He was standing at the front with a smug grin on his face, and you already knew what was coming.

You were also given an ungodly sentence of a week's detention.

Turning Point

"If I see you on your phones, I'm taking them." The monitor informs before sitting at the desk, reclining in the chair and putting his feet up soon after. You sigh and lean back in your seat, attempting to find a way to pass the next two hours without getting in trouble. Your eyes scan across the room, eventually landing on Rosé, where she sits a couple rows away from you. Sunlight is streaming in through the window next to her, its golden rays peeking through the breaks in the clouds above to shine on her. She looks gorgeous as she doodles away in her notebook, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear when it falls in front of her face.

After waiting on the monitor to fall asleep and sending one last glance to double check, you quietly stand from your seat and go sit next to her.

You barely know each other, but she's your only hope of remaining sane and occupied.

"Hi," you greet, looking into her eyes.

"Hi," she copies, a tiny smile forming on her lips when she notices your impressed expression upon gazing down at her paper. You have to hand it to her -- she's really talented.

"You're really good," you compliment, still admiring the artistry. Seeing as how you're looking down, you fail to notice the blush that works its way to her cheeks. Coming from you, the simple remark meant a lot to her.

You spend the rest of the day making small talk and getting used to one another, leaving detention later with the hopes of sitting together again.

----

The Next Day

"Hi again," you whisper, glancing over your shoulder to ensure that the coast is clear. The monitor is out like a light, with his mouth hanging open and an obnoxiously loud snore coming out.

"Hi," she giggles, watching as you dive into the floor for cover when the man shifts in his sleep. You thought he was waking up, and if he finds out you moved seats, he'll definitely have something to say about it.

"The coast is clear, cadet," she nods like a soldier, assuring you that it's okay to move back after a minute.

"That was close," you breathe out in relief, glad to live to see another day.

You share a laugh, though it has to be hidden behind your hands and kept a minimum. It's cute though -- like a little secret between the two of you, only for you to know.

"What're you drawing today?" You ask later, laying your chin in your palm as you gaze down at her work. Her reply comes out stuttered at first when she feels your leg innocently brush against hers under the table.

"D-dalgom. My friend's dog." She manages out, mentally smacking herself for looking like a fool.

You smile, thinking she's adorable. "I bet it'll be great," you encourage. She grins back as her eyes scan over your face, committing the memory of you to heart. She's always had a thing for you, ever since the time you were paired up in Biology last semester, so she's been enjoying detention more than she thought she would. Seeing you makes the time go by faster, though ironically, she wishes it would slow down a bit.

You make her feel appreciated for more than just what she's capable of producing, and the divide between you and her friend group is blaringly obvious. They like her because of the rush she can help them achieve; you like her because of her.

That thought persists in her mind for the rest of detention, and before she knows it, the monitor is releasing you again. She bends down to put her notebook in her bag when a thought pops into her mind: she wants to ask if you want to go to the park with her. When she's done zipping her bag up, she looks back up at you, only to find you on your phone, talking to someone.

"Yeah, mom. I'll stop by on the way home. So milk, cereal, ramen, and paper towels, right?"

She watches as you wait for a reply, tucking the phone into the crook of your neck as you move to write the list down on a spare piece of paper.

"Alright, love you, too. See you later." You hang up before looking back at Rosie. She looks a little down, and you have no idea why.

You pause for a moment, silently psyching yourself up for what you're about to ask. "This is gonna sound really strange, but do you want to come with me to the store?"

Her heart's pace increases at that, happy to know that you want to spend more time with her, just as she does with you.

"Actually, yeah. That sounds like fun."

You grin at her before spinning around and doing a little celebratory dance, which wins you a strange look from the monitor. You stick your tongue out at him before grabbing her hand and rushing out of the room, hearing his disapproval shouted after you.

"Milk?"

"Check."

"Ramen?"

"Check."

"Cereal?"

"Nope."

You nod at her words, now reminded of what you were forgetting. You push the buggy towards the aisle of cereals, gazing around in wonder at the huge selection. Rosé is just the same, eyeing all of the options like a kid in a candy store. After grabbing your mom's favorite kind, you decide on one for yourself and bring it back to the cart. Rosie scoots her leg over, making room for them beside where she sits, reclined in the cart.

You grin when you see her eyeing a box of fruit loops. Huh; fruity. Go figure.

You wordlessly grab the box and hand it to her, feeling your heart melt when she looks up at you like you hold the key to the universe.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"No problem, Rosie." You say, putting your hands on the bar as you begin pushing the buggy again. "Now, I say we see how long it takes to get to the paper towel aisle. My last record was 30 seconds."

She looks at you, clearly impressed, with her eyebrows raised. Without question, she pulls her phone out and gets the stop watch feature ready to go.

"3...2...1... GO!" She shouts, commanding your legs to start pumping as you race down the long strip of store before you. A couple kids dart out of the way just before getting smacked into, quickly turning around and cheering you on as you charge forward.

Her giggles fill the air as you drift around a corner, shouting apologies to the lady you almost bumped into.

"Sorry ma'am!"

A few seconds later, chest heaving and legs sore, you come to a stop in the aisle, dramatically collapsing in a heap next to the buggy. Rosé checks her phone as she reaches down to poke you.

"22.18 seconds, champ," she declares victoriously, smiling when you magically regain enough energy to stand up and celebrate.

"Woohoo! Team Y/S/N (Your Ship Name) for the win!"

She laughs along at that, joining in on your celebration, but she's blushing like crazy on the inside.

-----

The Last Day Of Detention

Ever since your trip to the store, you and Rosé have grown closer and closer. You traded numbers and text occasionally, though nothing beats having her all to yourself for 2 hours straight with no distractions. She feels the same; when she's in class, she can't wait for the bell to ring and signal your reunion. Part of her wants to get in trouble again, just to see you more often.

So, as you'd expect, it's really no surprise that you're sat right in front of her again, telling jokes and asking about her day. You've grown a bit more bold with every step closer you've taken towards her heart, and now you reach down to intertwine your fingers with hers.

She happily accepts, even bringing your hand up to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it. She smiles against your skin after it, making butterflies take flight in your stomach. She's got you wrapped around her finger, and you don't even try to fight it anymore.

The sound of the classroom door opening alerts you, making her lower your hand. She doesn't let go of you, though, and that fact warms your heart for some reason. The squeaky hinges groan out again as the door opens wider, revealing about 4 or 5 people from the friend group that she hangs out with. They motion for her to sneak out with them, but she just shakes her head.

"Come on, Rosé!" They whisper-scream, offering her a way to freedom. Little do they know that she'd take this imprisonment over freedom any day, so long as you're by her side.

"No! Get out before he wakes up!" She whisper-shouts back, eventually convincing them to leave.

"Why didn't you go?" You ask once they're gone, toying with her fingers as your hands rest on the desk.

"Because I like spending time with you." She admits, letting her defenses down.

"I was hoping you'd say that," you smile, letting her know that you feel the same.

The Fallout

After detention, the two of you walked out of the school, hand in hand

"Would you maybe, I don't know... wanna go to the park with me?" She asks nervously, glancing up at you.

"You read my mind, Rosie." You smile at each other and head towards the parking lot.

You started hanging out more, and she distanced herself from her old crowd

You encouraged her to enroll in your school's art program and show her work that way

"You're really talented; it deserves to be seen."

Your support meant the world to her, and she never failed to let you know

"Thank you, Y/N. Having you behind me means the world to me."

At one of her art shows, where she was tasked with unveiling a new piece that she'd been working on for months, you got the biggest surprise of your life.

She created a mural of you, all decked out with every color of the rainbow, utterly gorgeous

She lit up when she saw your reaction

"This piece is titled 'Mine', which I hope the girl in it will soon be." She says into the microphone, looking at you with hope shining in her eyes.

You nod your head with a smile and walk up to her, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that was long-overdue. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in closer with her sweater-padded hands and kissing you again and again.

The crowd claps for you, happy to see such an ending.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lisa

I couldn't choose between these two gifs so enjoy both for the price of one ^^^

Lisa Manoban: Cocky, smug, and self-assured. The dancer knew she was hot shit, and she wasn't afraid to show off.

You're all for people being confident and happy with themselves, especially when they're talented, but something about Lisa always seemed to rub you the wrong way.

Whether it be her lack of a filter or the arrogant swagger that she naturally exuded, you weren't sure. People wanted to either be her or be with her, but you fell into neither of those categories.

She always left you frustrated in one way or another, whether it be from her teasing or her witty comebacks

The teachers loved her, as did the students. She was the class clown, so her position was pretty sacred in the grand scheme of things

You, on the other hand, irritated her for other reasons. You were the only person she couldn't get to crack; you never gave into her charms, and it infuriated her to no end. She wasn't used to not getting what she wanted (as childish as that may seem) and having you, one of the most attractive girls at school, turn her down? Well that was a massive blow to her ego.

You weren't afraid to say your piece, and that both pleasantly surprised and upset her.

She constantly tried to flirt with you in class, but you knew it was all for the attention. She just wanted to make her friends laugh, which they always did.

"Y/N, come here babe. There's an empty seat next to me," she coos, batting her eyelashes as you walk in the door. It's a free day, so everyone is sitting with their friends, wherever they like.

"I'm good," you decline, deciding to sit against the wall beneath the large window of the classroom.

"Oooo, denied," Lisa's friends laugh at her this time, chuckling harder when she sticks her middle finger up at them.

"Yah, shut up," she says, nursing her bruised ego as she turns around and opens her phone.

You smile as you continue working on the homework you cracked open, scribbling an answer down onto the notebook paper in front of you. Your fingers glide over your textbook in search of the definition of the term you're on, and Lisa secretly watches from afar. Without realizing it, she grins when you light up upon spotting the answer.

Sometimes her flirting does work, though, and you turn into a blushing mess

*whistle* "Damn, Y/N. You're looking fine today," she exclaims, fanning herself. You worry that she doesn't really mean it, but when her eyes remain on you a second too long to just be friendly, you blush. She's taking in all of you, looking impressed all the while.

"Right back at you, Manoban." You wink, sitting down in your seat across the room. She lightly blushes back, though she does a good job of concealing it.

Considering you share a couple classes and the class sizes are relatively small, it was pretty likely that you'd end up paired together eventually

You weren't happy about it, especially not after the way she had acted that week. Her cockiness had been at an all time high as of late, leaving you frustrated and upset. She was so full of herself; all you wanted to do was wipe that stupid smirk off her face.

"Y/N, you'll be paired with Lisa," your photography teacher informs, pushing her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose.

"But Mrs. Ta--"

"Pairings are final," she cocks her head at you, persuading you to give in. With a sigh, you respond, "Yes ma'am," and attempt to ignore the sound of Lisa's friends high fiving each other in celebration.

The Turning Point

"My parents are gone for the rest of the week..." she says, holding the door open for you as you carry in your equipment. A hint of suggestiveness lies in it; she's alluding to exactly what you think she is, and you push her shoulder upon realizing it.

"Knock it off, Manoban."

"Okay, okay," she chuckles, listening to you for once. The surprise is clear on your face.

She leads you towards the backyard, where you set up one of your highest power cameras and turn it on. You have to create a gallery of different photos, all under the same theme. You both agreed to do a time-lapse of the sunset, and take pictures of the stars after.

Once she makes sure that the timer is set correctly and that the auto shut-off feature is enabled, she motions for you to follow her back into the house. You do, and she leads you into the kitchen.

"Do you want a snack?"

"Sure, do you have any ramen?"

She nods, quickly busying herself by bending down and searching through the cabinets. After she finds it, exclaiming a pleased, "Aha!", she tells you to go get comfortable in the living room.

Three minutes later, from your place on the couch, you begin to smell something burning. You scramble up and rush to the kitchen, only to find Lisa running around like a headless chicken, attempting to put out the small fire she started.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU MANAGE TO BURN RAMEN?" You shout, though your tone isn't angry. You're just very shocked, and loud about it. You push her away from the pot, albeit gently, and get the flames to go down relatively quickly. You turn the burners off and put the pot in the sink, leaning against the counter to recover from the adrenaline rush.

"Oops?" She asks more so that says, with a growing smile evident in her voice.

You shake your head and chuckle despite yourself, turning around to face her. "You can order a pizza now to make up for that." You point a finger at her, grinning stupidly when she presses the tip of hers to it.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

Thankfully you're already walking away as she says that, so she doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing you blush.

---

"Lisa, I can't keep going." You groan out, sweat dripping down your face. The pizza you ate earlier is giving you a stomache ache, paired with the physical activity you're doing.

"Y/N, just a little longer, we're almost there," she huffs out, keeping her movements steady somehow. You're a mess by now, so you don't understand how she's still going.

A couple minutes later, the TV in front of you lights up, saying, "Awesome moves! You win!" as you collapse to the ground in a heap.

Why you agreed to play Just Dance with her after eating is beyond you.

"Good job," she compliments, grabbing your hand to high five herself with it.

"Yeah, yeah," you roll over, catching your breath.

She lays down beside you as you recover, telling jokes to hear that laugh that she loves so much. She prefers yours over anyone elses, so it's always such a reward when she gets you to crack up.

"We should probably head up now," she notes, realizing that the stars will be coming out soon. You agree, and she carefully helps you up.

"Here, I'll carry you," she turns, bending down so you can get on her back.

"Lisa, you can't carry me," you brush off, feeling insecurity bubble up again like it always does when you're offered a piggyback ride.

"Y/N, I promise that I can. Trust me," she reassures, looking into your eyes sincerely.

"Alright," you sigh, standing onto the couch to get on easier.

"See?" She asks, sliding her warm hands up your thighs to keep you secured against her. "I've got you, babe."

You tuck your head into the space between her shoulder and neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.

"I'm gonna punch you if you drop me," you whisper, feeling her laugh against you.

"Fair enough."

-----

Later, On The Rooftop

"Careful," she instructs, outstretching a hand to help you climb out the window. Her camera hangs around her neck, and she takes the cap off of the lense once you're both safely sitting on the roof.

"Wow," you sigh, gazing up at the sky in wonder. Her house is far enough away from the city that you're rewarded with a gorgeous view of the stars, unburdened by the industrial fog that hangs over the cosmopolis.

"It's beautiful out here," you say, looking back at her. You tense up a bit, not expecting her to already be looking at you.

"Sorry," she laughs at herself, looking away once she gets caught admiring you.

"It's okay," you reach down and gently squeeze her hand, making her blush lightly.

"Let's get started," you conclude, pointing at the camera. She nods, knowing that she'd never get the assignment done if you didn't step in to tell her to (considering she'd rather admire you), and she points the device to the sky.

After snapping a few pictures, she lays back in order to get a better vantage point of one of the star systems. She hands it to you after she's satisfied with her work, and you take your turn with it.

She notices that you keep brushing your hair out of the way when it falls in your face, so she decides to help you.

"Here," she says, saddling up behind you. She gathers your hair up, running her fingers through it to neatly pull it up for you. Thankfully she always keeps a spare tie on her wrist.

"Thanks," you smile, snapping another picture. The simple act warms your heart; she's being selfless for once, and helping you without even being asked. It's a refreshing change of pace.

"You're welcome." She chirps, sitting back down beside you.

-----

Later, In Her Bedroom

"Oh, I really like that one!" She says excitedly, pointing at the TV. Her phone, which is connected via Bluetooth and automatically receives pictures of her choosing from the camera, is displaying some of your best shots.

"Yeah, you did really well with that. I think we might beat everyone else if we use that as our cover piece."

Your compliment makes her momentarily shy, and she quickly realizes how much she loves your praise.

The two of you continue like that, reviewing the different pictures and choosing your favorites. She always finds ways to compliment yours, noting your technique or the filter you used, and it always makes you smile. She's different than you're used to, and it's throwing you for a loop, pleasantly surprising.

---

Lisa steps out of the room to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, leaving her phone connected to the TV. A ding sounds out across the space, pulling your attention away from the stack of notes laid out before you. Your eyes dart up to the screen, reading the text message that appeared at the top of it.

Austin ⛓: "Dude, did you get into her pants yet? We're literally betting over here 😂"

You blink a few times as their words sink in, making your chest hurt. You were really beginning to believe that you had been wrong about Lisa; clearly, though, your instincts were right.

Feeling betrayed, you shove your folders back into your bag and stand from the chair, willing yourself not to cry. The sound of the sink turning on lets you know that she's almost done, so you hurry your movements and make your way towards the door. She steps out into the hall just as you exit her room, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Woah, woah, woah, what's going on?" She asks with furrowed brows, approaching you. One of her hands lands on your arm, and you shrug it off as you brush past her without another word.

"Y/N, did I do something wrong?" She asks from the top of her staircase, watching as you walk towards her foyer.

"Why don't you ask Austin?" You bitterly call over your shoulder as you turn the knob, slipping out the front door. She hangs her head upon registering your words, realizing what must've happened. She makes a mental note to give him hell when she sees him again.

Tears sting your eyes as you exit the house, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself. You should've known something like this would happen. The chilly night air bites at your skin, stealing more of its warmth away with every step you take. The temperature doesn't change your mind, though; you're upset, and you'd rather freeze out here than be face to face with her right now.

"Y/N, wait!" She calls after you, blasting out the front foor. Her footfalls sound off behind you, announcing her rapid approach, but you don't turn around. Realizing this, she darts in front of you, keeping you from walking any further.

"Please, don't go. He's an idiot, Y/N."

"He might he an idiot, but that doesn't take away what he said," you scowl, clenching your jaw. "Betting? Really, Lisa?" You ask quietly, hurt evident in your voice.

"It was a stupid thing they tried to convince me to do. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop them from talking once you and I were paired up. That's not what I want, though. I'm not just in it for that."

"How am I supposed to believe that? This is your M.O., Lisa."

"It's different with you, I don't know why." That's a lie; she knows exactly why you're different than anyone else she's flirted with in the past.

You stand there before her, silently weighing your options. After seeing the pleading look in her eye, her dark orbs full of sincerity, you relent. "Just take me home. We'll work on it another day," you compromise, allowing her in just enough to take you home, but not enough to stay at her place any longer. You're still weary after a text like that, and you will be for a while.

"Thank you," she breaths a sigh of relief, clasping her hands behind herself as you begin walking back to her house. She notices you shiver on the way, and she slips her jacket off without hesitation to cover you. Neither of you have to say anything; one glance from you is enough for her, and she's content knowing you're warm.

The Fallout

From there on out she was always honest with you and actually spoke out when her friends tried to do something stupid

She still remained the charming class clown that she naturally is, just getting rid of the not-so-nice parts of herself

You slowly let her regain your trust, little by little

She did nice things for you on the daily, whether it be holding the door, carrying your books, or offering to buy you some lunch

"Morning, Y/N. Wanna grab some breakfast?" She asks, moving her head to the side towards the café at the center of campus.

"Sure," you smile, laughing when she celebrates.

She invites you to her dance perfomances

When she goes to championships, you're always first on her list of invites

"I want you there." She declares, handing you the flyer.

"You've got it," you decide, knowing there's no where you'd rather be. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

At said championship, she won the highest title and claimed victory for your school

You joined the rest of the team on the stage to celebrate, congratulating the solo dancer on her achievement.

"I'm so proud of you, Lis--"

She suddenly kisses you, clearly high off her win. She pulls back when she realizes what she just did, a worried look on her face.

"Shit, I'm sorry." She looks between your eyes, attempting to gauge your reaction.

"Get your ass back here," you order, feeling butterflies take flight when she eagerly presses her lips to yours again, wrapping her arms around you to spin you.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" She mumbles against your lips.

You squint, pretending to think about it. "Maybe... or maybe not."

Her subsequent gasp is quickly muffled by your kiss, which she can't seem to get enough of.

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fancysimpinghere · 3 years

Text

Euphories pt.4 (Sykkuno x reader)

Well, hello everyone! I want to deeply apologize for such a long break in posting there. We all know how hard life can sometimes be. But I arrived with a finish of this story and I hope you will like it! Enjoy!

summary: all good things eventually come to the end and insecurities aren't helping. Adult life is hard, so are decisions. Even if mistakes happen, there would be something to do to fix your frienship. And who knows, maybe things would evolve into something deeper and more advanced than simple relation between friends?

It has been two months since your first encounter with this pretty boy. Luckily, your schedule wasn’t that busy in summer months, so you could visit Thomas in his grandfather’s shop at least twice a week. Your friendship was blossoming, you both surprisingly had a very good contact. When you visited the shop, Thomas usually was waiting for you with one of the magic cassettes, but sometimes he was just showing you around. Actually, you found yourself almost working with him, because you were helping him with unpacking new items, organizing things and cleaning. It was very fun for both of you - you could spend more time together and get to know each other. But you had your own job as well, and summer time was slowly ending. You knew that if you want to keep seeing Thomas, you have to bring your friendship to another level and start to meet up outside. Little did you know that he rarely left shop or house. These places were his comfort zone and You didn't want to push him to do something really demanding. You decided to give him some time to get accustomed to your presence in his life and let Sykkuno make this important step. All you could do then was wait and do your best to gain his trust even more than you had already. When holidays ended, you were sad, because that means less free time - and less time spent with Thomas. But you still came to his shop, even if you were tired or had to sacrifice your sleep time. Sometimes you helped his grandfather with some simple chores, made some cookies for them both or just kept him company - you knew that older people seek attention from others and you couldn't say no to him. But to be honest, it was difficult to bring together your new lifestyle with your old one. Of course you liked Sykkuno, and you felt about him a little different than an ordinary friend - you liked him more and this was also not easy. You were afraid that if he found out about your little secret, it would scare him away and you would lose him as a result. Day by day you were trying to shove your feelings away and focus on helping him, but every moment spent with Thomas started to feel like too much for you. You were worried if he noticed small changes in your behaviour, but he seemed fine. Because of that, you started to lose yourself in work - your amount of free time dropped almost to the bare minimum because of afterhours, and even if you had a free day, you were too tired to visit your friend.

On the other hand, Thomas was internally freaking out. In the end of holidays he started to catch feelings for you, but was too afraid to admit it even to himself. He enjoyed your company a little bit too much, and you started to look better than before in his eyes. But he was sure that you are too good to him and you deserve better than a shy boy with nothing to offer. So he was amazed that you still visited him after your work started and spent your precious time with him. He was absolutely affected by your kindness and willingness to help.

He knew that if he wants to keep you even as a friend, he has to do something. You were his only friend and after these months spent together, he couldn't imagine his life without you. So when you started to visit his shop less often, he felt hopeless. Sykkuno was sure that he bored you out of his life because of his strange addiction to video games and antisocial lifestyle. He didn’t know what to do. His low self-esteem was not helping him with putting his thoughts together. After the first two weeks without your visit to his home or shop, he was devastated. Nothing from his special collection of games and films could make him completely happy anymore, because his thoughts were occupied by you. But one day, when he was organizing his special cassettes, a movie caught his eye. When he read the title, an idea sprung to his mind and he was that desperate for your presence, he almost instantly made a decision.

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

You started to feel a bit nostalgic when you were looking through the window at falling snowflakes. It was the first snow of the year, so you were also a little bit excited. But when you were sitting in a small cafe in your town, a cup of hot chocolate in front of you, memories slowly creeping from the back of your head. Memories of sad past months, but also of warm and joyful summer. But the most important thought in your mind was the reason for your presence in the cafe. Your fingers unconsciously wandered on the screen of your phone to once again open a message from your friend Thomas. You had strong remorse for leaving him alone and don't contacting him in almost a month. You didn't know what to expect from today's meeting with him, but you were shocked that he invited you to a public place, where there could be a lot of people. Your line of thinking was cut, when small bells over the door frame rang and someone entered the cafe. You guessed it was your company for today - hood covered his head and his face was covered by black mask, but you were sure that this is your friend, whom you haven't seen for almost 2 long months. You noticed his lack of gloves - his hands were red from the cold temperature outside. He still got snowflakes on his massive hoodie, but they were melting away. Even if you felt a little bit awkward, you felt a strange warmth in your chest at the sight of him. You longed to hear his soft voice and laugh, and your heart squeezed just at the thought of it.

He paused for a while to look for you among other people present at the cafe and his gaze finally met yours. He shyly headed towards you and slowly pulled off his hood and mask, so you could recognize him as you haven't done it already. Even from a distance you could say that he was nervous, his hands were making some awkward movements and his eyes shifted from one person to another, like he was expecting somebody to attack him. Finally he was standing right in front of your table and you felt terribly for leaving him with poor excuses about work. He looked bad, just as you - sleepless nights put their marks on your face and you recognized them on his face too. Before he could say anything, you stood up immediately, and reduced the distance between you two. You looked him deep in the eye and hugged him carefully to not scare him. You didn’t care about other people, because you especially chose a more private area of the cafe, in the corner and a massive part of it was covered by plants. You felt Thomas tensing up after you embraced him, but after a few seconds he relaxed and hugged you back.

- "I'm so sorry, Sykkuno." - whisper left your mouth before you could think about forming a more developed sentence, but these words were only one in your mind right now. - "I missed you so much."

At these words he hugged you tighter and you could swear that he smiled like he always did when he was embarrassed.

- "I missed you too." - he whispered back, straight to your ear. You felt butterflies waking up in your stomach at his closeness and blushed a little.

- "It’s nice to- nice to see you, hm." - he stuttered a little and moved his arms away from you, so you did the same. You both sat down and you looked at his face again. Small blush creeped his cheeks, but it could be from the temperature change. - "I was afraid that you wouldn't have time for… For me."

He looked at you like a lost puppy and you felt awful. But before you could say something, he gave you a very warm and wide smile.

-"But you had and I'm happy about it." - he said and started to look for something in his pockets. - "I know that you are a very hard working person and I wanted to thank you for helping me and my grandfather despite this." - it was the longest sentence you ever heard from him, so you were a little bit speechless, but he looked like he wanted to say something more. However, you felt guilty and you had to apologize to him properly.

- "Thomas, I’m sorry. "- you interrupted before he could continue. - "I'm sorry for non contacting you in days and I know it was wrong. I… I can explain why I did this."

- "You don't have to. "- He answered and his search finished with success, because he placed down something rectangular on the table. - "I asked you for a meeting, because I realized something during the past months. And I can't keep this a secret any more."

He was looking even more nervous now. He hid his hands in the sleeves of his hoodie, because they were trembling a little. You also noticed that his face is clearly and non deniable red almost like a tomato, and he was a little bit hesitant when speaking. You decided to not interrupt him this time, and you also felt nervous. He looked at the window to search for the right words or find the courage, you assumed. But then he suddenly returned his gaze to you.

- "What is it, Thomas?" - you asked softly to encourage him to share his thoughts with you. You decided to use his real name to show you are taking him seriously. Deep in your heart you felt a little spark of hope, but you didn't want to make expectations and then be dissapointed. You watched his movements carefully, your eyes dropping to the item lying before him, and you finally recognized the thing. It was a cassette thanks to which you could know him. Your mouth opened in surprise and when he noticed that, he smiled coyly, but stress was still recognizable on his face.

- "I wanted to tell you for a long time, but… I… I couldn’t find the courage. But now, I decided that I have to do this." - words left his mouth faster than usual, and his eyes nervously watched your reaction. He sighed and blinked a few times. -" You are my best friend, my only friend, but I realized I like you a lot more than that."

You were completely speechless. You didn't even imagine this scenario - it was too perfect to be real, but there you are. Your mind exploded with a sudden wave of joy and happiness, because the dearest person you know just admitted to liking you back. You smiled sincerely to him and he had to notice a spark of joy in your gaze, because he stopped talking and just watched you with his big eyes.

- "Thomas, I like you too. "- you said in answer, honestly looking into his eyes. -" I didn’t know how to tell you, so I distanced myself fro you, because I didn’t want to scare you or… "- you didn’t finish and all of sudden felt embarrassed for your lack of initiative.

- "I thought it would be nice to talk about it in the place where our friendship started. "- he said slowly and carefully moved the cassette on the table towards you. He looked down for a second, then returned your gaze. He looked more determined than before and smiled at you once again. You could look at his smile forever - there was nothing more cuter than his expressions.

- "So…Would you like to accompany me on this journey?" - he asked softly and pulled out his hand to you from the sleeve. He watched your reaction carefully.

- "Yes, I definitely would." - You giggled and blushed a little, but gently grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers with his.

He tightened his grip on your hand and you both touched the cassette with your other hands. The world started to spin, and even when you started falling down, all you could feel in this moment was falling in love with this cute, lovely boy, soon to be your boyfriend, who held your hand like his life depended on it and laughed at the strange sensation. You couldn't help and joined him, looking forward to experiencing the best adventure - and you were certain that it would be the best, because you had the greatest companion in the whole world.

~fin~

#sykkuno x y/n #sykkuno #sykkuno x reader #sykkuno imagines #y/n imagine #imagines #fanfiction #x reader #reader #y/n #euphories #games #videoclub #y/n x character #y/n imagines #y/n insert #corpse husband

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futurewriter2000 · 3 years

Text

Back Home

A/N: The fact that I spent 15 minutes looking for a gif and still didn't find the one that would be perfect, I gave up and just put a photo on. I love this fic however, one of my favorites and I hope you will too.

REQUEST:hiiiii! i hope you’re having a wonderful day, filled with sunshine & rainbows !! 💫✨ may i please request sirius x daughter! reader imagine where the reader is staying with sirius for the first time since he went to azkaban and when she goes to bed he tries to tuck her in but struggles because the last time he’d have done it, he probably would’ve read her a story but she’s presumably grown out of that by now and so he’s not really sure what to do ? 🥺🍄

All those easy days finally led to now- today. He had prepared thousands of different speeches, conversations, scenes inside his head but when it came to those last moments of seeing you for the first time since he had been taken away from you, nothing could make his heart beat faster than the simple thought of that. His hands were clamming up, his fingers were snapping due to all the anxiety, his knuckles cracking, his golden family ring twisting on his middle finger...

Nothing could have prepared him for today. Not thousands of different speeches or comforting words of his best friend, who had been taking care of you for the last few years. Maybe that was a bit comforting; for Remus to keep his promise to him, even though he thought he was a murderer, he still took you in. Remus with his good wolf-like heart, despite all the things he believed.

He told Sirius you wouldn't care how he was dressed but Sirius had changed about seven times already. Tie or no tie? Bow or no bow? A jacket or a blazer? Jeans or pants? Hair combed or natural? Shaved or not shaved?

It all led him to here; him pacing up and down the living room, twisting his family ring on his finger as another mistake has caught his eye. "This probably should be put away?" he continued to look at the black family vase. "KREACHER!" he shouted and the small elf appeared from thin air.

"Yes, Master-"

"Put this vase away. Hide it, throw it- I don't care. Just get it out of my sight." he spoke nervously and the elf obeyed, cursing under his breath.

He heard the door open and a loud laughter echo through the hall. Your laughter- it wasn't as small and high as he remembered it to be but it was still yours- that he definitely knew.

"Oh this place hasn't changed at all, Moony." you said as you had looked around the hall, a nostalgic rush of memories running through your head. "Grandpa told me he always hated this portrait of him. Said his nose was too large."

Sirius chuckled. That was true. He always did hate the portrait of him in the hall but never said anything because of his wife.

"Never said anything because of my wretched grandmother." you repeated his thoughts.

"Your grandmother was more than just wretched, Paddy." Remus smiled and grabbed your luggage. "I'll take these upstairs. I think you remember where your room was."

"Up, left, three doors down." you finger gunned him and made your way through the hall.

When you entered the living room, you were alone. Nothing but the same old black leather sofa, the magnificent fireplace you used to warm up with your grandfather when you visited- though where is grandpa. You swore his jar was right on the fireplace. A dark ugly vase.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked around if somebody has placed it somewhere else. When you did, your eyes met his.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you felt yourself standing completely still. Something cut you in half, maybe the way he had watched you but when you came out of your shock, you realised it was still the same warm, fuzzy, homely feeling that washed over you.

"Wow." he smiled, looking at you from head to toe. Your hair was long and he was quite surprised because when you were a child, you always hated long hair. Too much brushing- you used to say. Your eyes were welcoming, bright and similar. He used to tell you that they reminded him a bit of his younger brother, Regulus. He used to have that same welcoming and bright look in his eyes when he was a little boy. It wasn't much in the shape or the colour but in they way they saw the world, which scared him and inspired him at the same way.

You were not a little girl anymore. You had grown. You had gotten curves and a womanly-like shape. Of course, jeans and a leather jacket. Reminds him of himself when he was your age. Your face was full of youth and you looked taken care for.

"You're definitely not a little girl anymore." he said as he tried to catch his breath.

"Yeah." you smiled, sitting down and looking a bit around. "Twenty. Even I'm starting hard to believe it." you smiled and patted the seat next to you.

"Twenty." he sighed under his breath. He felt his heart sink and his shoulders slump. He had missed everything. From your childhood, to your first day at Hogwarts, your first date, graduation,...

"You haven't changed much." you said and he looked at you, laughing a bit.

"You think so?"

"Yeah." you shook your head. "Your hair is still long, your eyes a bit tired."

He kept quiet. Yes, he was tired. He was exhausted from hiding all the time, from living in that prison, filled with revenge for that rat. "He calls you Paddy still." Sirius smiled, referring to the nickname Remus had given you. "He used to do that from the moment you were born. Little Padfoot, he called you."

"Oh, he had told me all about the day I was born. You fainting in the middle."

"I just had to lay down for a while, okay. He's over-exaggerating." he started to defend himself.

"Bet." you laughed and he joined you.

"He told me you're training to become an Auror."

"Yeah. Guess, I take after my old man." you smiled brightly at him, melting his heart into a puddle of love and pride. When you saw him melt in front of your eyes, you put your hand on his knee and gave him a comforting look. "I always believed you were innocent. I just could never prove it."

"Oh, darling." he couldn't help himself, pulling you into a hug and letting tears fall down his cheeks at the words you had said. "I don't think you know how much I needed to hear that."

---

The whole experience of being here felt nostalgic. You knew you had been here before, stepped on those same stairs, dug your toes in that same rug, put your watch on that same night stand,... even the sheets felt as light and silky as it did when you were only a child. You didn't mind spending your time here. Your grandmother was strict, more than you heard but your grandfather was soft, nothing like you had heard from Remus or your dad or Regulus... not that you remember your uncle much. You had some faint memories of him but he simply disappeared one day and neither of your grandparents wanted to mention his name ever again. A forbidden name but it was his room, you occupied and whenever you laid here, more connected you felt to him and your roots when your father was away.

You spent weekends here or week days here. Remus was always in search of jobs and some months he couldn't provide for the both of you so you had spent some years here. Your grandfather melted at your sight, he simply adored you and he reminded you so much of your own father. Your grandmother always told you that you had made him go soft but grandchildren tend to do that. You knew she was softer to you as well, more than she was with your father and your uncle. Your grandfather said that she wanted to do right by you, not drive you away like she did with her sons. He knew because he did just the same.

There was a knock on the door that took you far away from the old memories. "Come in." you said gently and a curly-head lad popped his head in.

He gave you the usual smile- just the one that had been filled till your 6th year of life.

"I came in here to wish you good night." he said as he entered the room, keeping something behind his back. "Oh wow." he looked around the room, feeling a little chill run down his spine as the memories of his brother ran through his mind. "It's just as I remember it. You didn't change it much."

"No. I didn't feel the need."

"I wonder where is he." Sirius said in a low whisper, barely audible to you. You decided to let go of this topic.

"I wanted to ask you something."

He turned back to you and sat down at the edge of your bed. "Shoot."

"What happened to grandpa?" you asked, causing Sirius' eyes to furrow. "His ashes? Did you spread them anywhere?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The urn. It used to sit up on the fireplace. It was a large black one. I know this place he used to take me just before he passed away. Only me and him knew about it. He never told grandmother about this place and he made me promise that it will be out little secret. It's a cave somewhere in Ireland. Cliffs of Moher, I believe."

"Wait..." he stopped you a bit. "That big ugly black vase was filled with his ashes?"

"Yes?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh..." he felt his cheeks flush and you could see his eyes bulk out.

"Have you done something to the urn?"

"No, no. Of course not. I just put it in a much safer place." he lied and you could see right through it. He definitely did something to the urn but you let it pass, since the object in his hand pulled more of your attention.

"Alright. What's that in your hand?" you pointed and he quickly looked down.

"Oh, this." he pulled it out and it was a big thick book- a book you had a clear memory of. "It's silly, you probably don't remember it anymore."

You let out a laugh. "You're joking, right?" you sat up gently took the book away from him. "The Tales of Beedle the Bard!" you let out another excited laugh. "How could I not remember this? You used to read it to me every night. I could not fall asleep without it."

Sirius felt his poor heart explode in his chest. God, you still had that little girl inside of you. The one he tucked in every night but always resister with your tiny little legs because it was always too hot.

"I thought you'd have outgrown it.." he said quietly.

"If my friends ask me, yes but between you and me-" you leaned forward and whispered. "This is a little secret."

He let out another laugh. "Would you like me to read it to you again?"

You smiled widely. "I'd love for you to read it but dad-" you said and is eyes snapped to you, wide in surprise as it was the first time you had called him that in so many year. "- wouldn't you rather... get the Urn back first before Kreacher throws it away?"

"Probably a good idea but I'll be back." he stood up and ran out of the room, causing you to laugh at the sight but when he did come back with his father in his arms, he already saw you asleep in your bed.

He gently put his father on the desk and made his way to you. The book was open in the middle, one of yours and his favorite tales. He scooped the book up and placed it beside the vase. Then he remembered just how much his father hated these fairytale based books, so he pushed it far away from him.

"Even when your dust, I can't trust you." he said, narrowing his eyes at the vase before going back to you and observing you for a moment.

If he really thought about it, he didn't really lose you. Maybe time did take a way some of the precious memories he wanted to share with you but you turned out beautiful. You turned out to be this amazing, forgiving and understanding angel that still loved to read fairytales and take care of people when they were already ash.

He grabbed the edge of the covers and pulled it up to your chin, tucking you neatly just as he would when you were a child. Then he could hear something happening at the foot of the bed and see your bare feet poking out. He let out a small laugh.

"Some habits stay the same." he said, pushing away the strands on your forehead and giving you a gentle kiss. He then quietly took the book and his father, smiling that he gets to spend the rest of his life, creating new memories with you.

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