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#and then dead apple came out
videogamelover99 · 2 years
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Can I forget just who I think I am? Can I remember when I forced the wind? Can you believe I let my soul retire?
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sad-emo-dip-dye · 11 months
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Currently thinking abt how I started bsd in 2019 which means I have never seen skk interact with each other in real time
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spideygal · 4 months
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Thinking about the disturbing implications of Cain's story and destiny from the Bible rn
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#cw religion#no because like. cain didn't come out of the womb throwing rocks; how did he even think that it was healthy to stone his brother? it leads#me to believe that potentially; he either saw the angel war going on in the sky and thought that those who stayed in heaven and were treated#well; even with the violence that happened (from what he had seen and potentially heard); were. well how to say it. their actions were#normal. god created everything; and can think anything as normal. or he saw his parents fighting. i refuse to believe that adam and eve were#one of those healthy couples; even after the biting of the apple and getting kicked out of the garden of eden. i fear that cain and abel saw#the two fighting; potentially even going as far as to threaten each other with stones; and when the two excused it; the kids thought of it#as normal. keep in mind: violence is not born out of nowhere unless you're god; violence is taught; seen; heard of. it didn't make it any#better that there seemed to be no other people outside of the family yet that could tell them that that behaviour was wrong. so imagine#cain's shock upon seeing his brother not breathing. the shock that he murdered him. the shock that the threats that his parents did to each#other or that the angel war happening; were not normal. his brother was dead now. of course he had to lie when god came by. he quite surely#felt panicked to the point that he accidentally made a comeback to god. how could he not? he was a kid. they both were. and he felt regret.#he felt remorse. he felt anger to himself. and yet; god punished him. cain thought it was fair; because he killed his brother. but after a#while; it didn't seem fair. as he grew up; he thought that god telling him that he would be cursed to spend eternity roaming around the#earth would only last for until he was in his 30s. mortality rates were quite surely high back then; so he naturally thought that what god#said was metaphorical. because caine felt that way. that his remorse and anger and pain would roam eternally on earth. but after his#partner; and his children; and his grandchildren; and his great-grandchildren died; it didn't seem to be fair anymore. he wanted to die. he#had witnessed and felt everything: the flood; the crossing of the sea; the plagues; the goddamned everything. he still felt pain. he knew#why he was cursed; but he felt like what god did; was just plain cruel. he felt as though purgatory and getting juried out to see if you#were getting sent to hell or to heaven; was much more simplier; and had less pain; than dealing with the fact that you were now just a#walking body. something that used to be a person. something that should've been dead a long time ago. and yet. he was still alive. he just#wanted it to end. he knew what he did was wrong. but he just wanted to go back home. he wanted to start from scratch and be protective of#his brother and run away from god's view. but he couldn't now. he was cursed. he is now just a legend. a myth. a terror tale amongst the#folks in several towns that swear that they had seen him amongst the shadow. he must've been. after all; he looked ghastly enough to have a#tale or two written about him. ...would cain go near jesus? to ask him to please grant him mercy from this thing that he had now become?#or would he frightened? fearing that jesus would be as cruel as his god? obviously caine would be worried. jesus is supposed to be god's#child after all... i don't know it's just he reminds me of twilight sparkle and i just had to write this down-#cw corpse#spideygal#spideygal oc
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kyouka-supremacy · 2 years
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Thinking about that fic that featured Atsushi (18) pitying himself for being unable to drive when Kyouka (14) could... Might be the most simultaneously in character and relatable thing I've ever read
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catsxratsxbats · 2 months
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I've been in the bsd fandom for uuuuuh *checks notes* 8 years. Hello mentally ill lgbt community
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moongothic · 7 months
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Finished TOTK yesterday, I have a mouth, so I must scream
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Be warned, the be spoilies, but TL:DR; Good Game
I don't even know where to start, maybe the boring stuff? The gameplay changes from BOTW?
I dunno, I feel like generally speaking TOTK improved upon BOTW's gameplay mechanics in every way, or simply changed neither for better or worse
Like. The Sage Powers are fine, they're fun. But I did prefer the original Champion Abilities from BOTW. I do understand why they changed the abilities the way they did, the BOTW ones were kind of... basic. Like they were game mechanics any game could have, and some of them (Revali's Gale ESPECIALLY) could have literally broken the game and/or made much of the other new abilities completely pointless. They NEEDED to change for TOTK. And so we get the Sage Powers, which were much more situational. But they also helped add challenge to the game because they weren't these get-out-of-jail cards you could pull out of your pocket to cheese through any situation. Like no Mipha's Prayer means either you make sure you have fairies in your pocket, or you heal yourself every chance you get, or you simply die. Mipha ain't got your back. Nor Daruk. Nor Urbosa. Nor Revali. It's just you and the Sages if/when their powers happen to be useful.
That said. I did miss Revali's Gale the entire time I was playing and would have exchanged literally every single other ability in the game for the Gale. It was just so convenient man
If there's one thing I WISH TOTK hadn't changed and/or kept the same, it would be the Memories. Like. I didn't dislike the system they had going with the memories, but they way they changed it WHILE keeping it the same made TOTK's Dragon Tears a worse experience than BOTW's Memories (for me at least)
You see. Based on all the dialogue through out the game, it's kind of obvious in hindsight that you were arguably meant to do the Geoglyph Quest AFTER finding AT LEAST the first four sages, maybe even after finding Mineru and/or saving the Deku Tree. And that would be fine, but the thing is.
Like. In BOTW the Memories you really had to go out of your way to find, they were sometimes pretty well hidden and hard to find after all, but in BOTW even if you did find the Memories out of order or before doing any other sidequests, they didn't really affect the story at all, right
In TOTK, they attached the Memories to GIGANTIC LANDMARKS YOU CAN SEE FROM MILES AWAY. You don't have to go looking for jack shit, the Geoglyphs will fucking find YOU instead
NOT TO MENTION, in BOTW there was a True Ending you could only unlock if you got all the Memories, right. Knowing that OF COURSE most players would go out of their way to just fucking RUSH to each Geoglyph as fast as they could, because OF COURSE we want to know what happened to Zelda and the Master Sword
And. Like I know My Experience is not universal.
But, being the massive Fi Simp that I am, immidiately after I finished the Wind Temple I headed for the Korok Forest and the Master Sword geoglyph, because I wanted to know where Fi My Beloved is and if she's fucking okay
So The Master Sword Geoglyph was literally the third memory I watched.
The one where Zelda states she's going to become an immortal dragon to reach the future.
The third memory I watched. That fucking one.
Like. I'm not saying getting spoiled on Zelda becoming the Light Dragon so early on RUINED my precious experience, I still enjoyed the game deeply despite that. But I do, really really wish, that I hadn't seen that memory until much later. Not just because it was frustrating to listen to every character be like "oh jeez I wonder where Zelda is" when I know exactly where the fuck she is, but also because it did affect my enjoyment of the rest of the memories. Like, there's a great story TOTK is telling, but I've already seen the most important part, the part I was the most invested in, the end of it. So the rest, the way we get there... kind of doesn't matter.
I feel like had they either NOT given the players advice on how to interact with the Geoglyphs so early in the game (meaning you probably wouldn't know how to see the memories until later unless you figured out how to brute force them yourself), OR had they just kept the Memories more hidden like in BOTW... IDK, I think either method would have worked better than the way TOTK ended up doing it
All that aside, I gotta say. It's not often that a story leaves me feeling as mortified, empty and sad as TOTK did. Nor as inspired and full of hope as TOTK did. Like. Normally I'm very numb and don't get invested in storie, I rarely get emotional over a story. I rarely get invested. And TOTK just managed to wack me over the head, it's genuinely impressive
Like I don't know what to say, that was so fucking good man
Like. Of course, the best parts of the story where when all the sages united together and I just WISH Nintendo would have allowed there to be more moments like that, I could not get enough and simply yearned for more. I don't even mean during gameplay, just give me a few more cutscenes man 😭
I don't even know what to say anymore. It was a good game. I don't know what to do with my life anymore now that I beat it lmao
#Moon posting#LOZ#Shout out to me when I first went to the Korok Forest#Spent like two hours trying to figure out how to get in until I realized the Depth's map matches the Surface map#And that the entrance to the forest would be in the same place#Of course. I did not remember that there was a chasm near to the entrance at all#I just knew there was a Big Chasm near Typhlo for Dinraal to use#So I just had to haul ass from all the way there#And when I finally got to the Forest Area#There's fucking GLOOM HANDS#AT THIS FUCKING POINT. I HAD ENCOUNTERED THE HANDS. ONCE. JUST FUCKING ONCE BEFORE#I did a Shrine in Central Hyrule. Came out. Walked to some trees to pick some apples. Saw something on the other side of the trees.#Before I even knew what was happening I was fucking dead#Jump scared by the god damn Gloom Hands#My only encounter#And mind you I had just barely finished the first temple. I was in no fucking way prepared to fight these fucks#But at this point I had spent so much fucking time trying to get to the Forest I didn't want to give up#So after Many Attempts (and abusing saves) I managed to somehow run past the hands and get to the actual Korok Forest#Shit it ain't good. Of course#So I go check what's wrong with the Deku Tree and. Oh. MORE GLOOM HANDS#So for like the first third of my playthrough my only goal was to get strong enough to beat the Gloom Hands and save the Deku Tree#That was the only thing I cared about. The only thing I worked towards. Must save tree and find Fi#ALSO. I DID NOT KNOW HESTU WAS AT LOOKOUT LANDING#Don't think I even went to the Landing after leaving it. So as far as I knew when Hestu left Tabantha it meant he was on his way to home#And just wouldn't appear at the Korok Forest until the Deku Tree was saved#So I played with no extra inventory slots for a GOOD LONG WHILE#WHICH DID NOT HELP WITH THE GLOOM HANDS#This game was so scary like. It did not have to go so hard on being scary and yet it did
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deadghosy · 2 months
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Do you know about the Welcome Home fandom? So what about Wally Darling!Reader?
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HAZBIN HOTEL X WALLY DARLING! READER
prompt: you are a greeter of the hazbin hotel! Who knew a muppet looking demon could be so colorful.
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You are so soft spoken! Like that soft voice you have can hypnotize anyone into doing anything.
“hello, welcome to the hazbin hotel. i’m your greeter.” You say with a “:D” face
You’re so colorful and you’re definitely shorter than Lucifer…i can see Lucifer picking you up like a damn doll at times as you just smile with your muppet ass smile.
You’re just TOO DAMN CUTEEE! 🦆💗 literally even husk grumbles and gives you apples by the bar for you to stop giving him those doe eyes you give him when you are needy for apples.
I feel because of your muppet look, it would bring attention to yourself as a muppets looking demon is quite rare around the pentagram city, or even hell itself as Lucifer and Charlie have a muppet or Marionette look. 
Literally you are friends with Lucifer because of it and he finds your muppet look adorable. Even with your 3 ft height. (Yes I looked up his height and damn he short as hell!😭)
You are just chilling after greeting some new sinners in the hotel as you read the news paper, Lucifer comes out of no where. Dead ass reads the newspaper trying to understand your likes and dislikes.
“Lu-Lu?” You said softly as Lucifer awkwardly smiles and does finger guns at you. “Oh what a coincidence? What are you doing here..?” He says awkwardly as he sweatdrops at his attempt to start a conversation with you. “I live here?” You said raising a brow sitting down the newspaper.
“Oh I do too! What a very crazy thing?!” He says pointing his finger at himself as he poofs away in embarrassment as you just sat there…..*cue in pure confusion*
Alastor would not hate you because you are colorful, lemme be realistic. You two would be mutuals. Not like “oh I hate you but you are cool” type shit. I mean you two are the people who wave at each other but never approach each other because you don’t know if they like you fr. 🥲
One time a sinner had shoulder bumped you on purpose thinking you wasn’t gonna do anything…BUT NAH! YOU GRABBED THAT MF BY HIS NECK AS A SHADOW COVERS YOUR FACE, only leaving your eyes showing as you kick they ass out. You ain’t dealin' with no bullshit at this establishment. And for your friend’s sake.
Angel likes to play with makeup with your face since it’s calling out for his makeup kit. Literally he does blue eyeshadow on you.
I headcannon you wear blue eyeshadow just like how Wally’s eyelid is blue up there. Dead ass it would be cute if it was just blue eye shadow and you had a natural blush on your cheeks. You are quite beautiful reader💗😘
Since Angel is a drag queen, he would also try to make you wear drag queen makeup only for you to sneeze at how much product he used…yeah he never used it on your face.
You’re beautiful natural anyway…just don’t sneeze in his face. Ever again.
You definitely look like you listen to 1970-80’s jazz music as you dance in the lobby with Alastor nodding along happy. Just two jazz buddies liking jazz.
I can imagine Charlie trying to hold you back from eating the fruit gift basket for the guests…you’re only aiming for the damn apples as your mouth was drooling for it.
Imagine Vox has you on his channel because he brided you with apples. He stalked you through your tv you had that has rainbows and apples on it-
Well anyways Alastor “recused” you because you just sat there “begging” to be saved is what he saved when you munched on an apple confused by why Alastor came to take you away from Vox.
If you and Lucifer hung out doing hobbies together, which he suggested. You’re panting a portrait as he makes a duck based off of you….he can’t help but show affection of making you a duck version of yourself.
Niffty and you definitely get along well as hell! As you two have the same fashion taste as you both will dance to the genre of music you guys like.
With you being the greeter, you always have a soft smile and a soft approach to make the guest and residents feel safe in the hotel.
Sir Pentious will absolutely admire you…like a friend crush. He just wants to be your friend but you are too pure to approach as he thinks he won’t be cool enough to be your friend.
Imagine Valentino seeing you shopping and he tried to approach you only for a red smoke to cover you as you blinked confused to see an overprotective Lucifer smiling at you as you had teleported to the hotel. But with Lucifer, you could see his real feelings as you felt confused.
After a few months you and Pentious became friends because of one of his egg boiz named Frank said his “boss” wants to be friends with you. You giggled and nodded as you and sir Pentious do trust exercises together when Charlie host them.
Husk had dilated eyes and purr at you because you scratched under his chin which made him snap out of his cat daze and slap your hand as you giggle with a soft gaze.
I headcannon Velvette to be your girl who makes your outfits in primary colors. Like that or just cute aesthetic kid core fits. 💗‼️
I can see how reader always gives balloons to sinners who had trouble reliving their childhood. So they give balloons out to the sinners who had childhood trauma. You are a greeter, and a hell of a good one. 🦆💗
Imagine how Wally! Reader has those safety pins that say “Welcome!” And it’s so cute because you made them a t hand and Lucifer saw his you had effort in it so he made you more to give out to the guests.
I feel like Valentino will try to get you under his contract so he can use your pretty look since you seem like a femboy….but really you’re just a little guy who likes apples and his friends.
YOU’RE ONLY 12 APPLES TALL! 😨
But the hazbin crew literally cockblock him to the point he just stops doing he was trying to do to you.
I can see Lucifer trying to impress you at times as he never has a friend that had a cute appearance like you so your blank eye stare always catches him off as you just stand there smiling so adorably.
I headcannon waking up to find an apple by your night stand as a note reads “hope you like the apple, my angel!”- Lu-Lu. You just blinked at the apple completely ignoring the note and eating the apple as you smile at the taste.
“…yummy apppleee….” You say until you open your eyes looking at the note. “Wait what.”
You had gave Lucifer back an apple basket with rubber ducks that had painted apples not it for your appreciation of the apples he gave you 
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theostrophywife · 4 months
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the crush theory.
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pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.
song inspiration: london boy by taylor swift.
author’s note: this is just a cute indulgent coffee shop! au with my sweetheart enzo. majorly inspired by all the boyfriend vibes louis has been serving with miss olivia lately. let’s not even talk about the ass grab with his big hands and rings…🫣
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Enzo Berkshire never quite managed to master the language of love. 
Despite being a polyglot and a linguistics major, romance remained a complete mystery to him. It wasn't like he could craft a conjugation chart to help him not make a fool of himself in front of the girl of his dreams. When it came to matters of the heart, Enzo often found himself at a loss for words. Perhaps that was the reason why he never mustered up the courage to speak to you. 
Until that one fateful fall morning. 
The kiss of autumn arrived on campus a few weeks into the semester, freeing the city from the grips of the summer heat and bringing with it the changing of leaves and the distinct scent of cinnamon and apples. Enzo shoved his hands into the pockets of his burnt orange corduroy trousers and savored the sound of the jewel toned leaves crunching underneath his loafers. As the wind picked up, he wrapped his chunky knit cardigan tighter around himself to shield against the chilly breeze. 
The ivy covered brick buildings and cobblestone streets faded into the background as he walked past the quad. Deja Brew, the little hole in the wall cafe that Enzo frequented, greeted him like an old friend. The coffee shop was located on the outskirts of campus and was only a short walk from his dorm, which made it the ideal place to conduct his tutoring sessions. Not only was it convenient, but the cozy and quiet ambience provided the perfect setting for Enzo to teach his fellow struggling students. 
As time went on, the choice of location became less about convenience and more about catching a glimpse of you—the surly barista that worked the morning shift. For the past few months, Enzo developed a rather embarrassing crush on you. There was something about your scowl and no bullshit attitude that drew him to you like a moth to a flame. Though in his case, Enzo was perfectly content to hover a safe distance from the proverbial light of your fancy French cigarette lest he get burned. 
Upon first glance, anyone would have been intimidated by you. With your faded band tees, ripped jeans, and scuffed leather boots, Enzo was well aware that a girl like you would never be interested in a bloke who's wardrobe consisted of sweaters with elbow patches, floral print button downs, and neatly pressed pleated trousers. Needless to say, you were way too cool for him. 
Enzo was resigned to merely admiring you from afar, but fate seemed to have other ideas. The bell above the door tinkled softly as he made his way into Deja Brew only to stop dead in his tracks when he spotted you at the register. Usually, you were behind the bar manning the espresso machine during the early morning rush, but not today.
Today, you were front and center. 
Part of him considered walking out the door, but given the fact that the shop was nearly empty, a hasty exit would definitely not go unnoticed. Enzo had no choice but to suck it up and approach the register with resignation. The minute he opened his mouth, he was sure he’d muck things up. 
Enzo swallowed thickly and pushed his round framed glasses further up the bridge of his nose; a nervous habit he developed when he was younger. The erratic beat of his heart echoed in Enzo’s ears as his gaze flickered up to your face, expecting to be greeted with a frown. To his surprise, your lips curved into a small smile once you spotted him. 
“Lemon balm tea with two pumps of peach syrup and a dollop of honey, right?” 
Enzo blinked at the melodious sound of your voice, nearly missing the fact that you’d recited his exact order, which shouldn’t have been surprising given the fact that you’ve been making it for him for months. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little warm inside as you looked at him expectantly. He stared in stunned silence for a moment. 
You furrowed your brow in doubt. “Did I get that wrong?” 
“No, no, it’s right. It’s great. It’s perfect—“ Enzo cleared his throat, mentally kicking himself for rambling. “I’m just surprised that you remembered it.” 
“Of course I remember it, you’re one of my regulars. I’d be a pretty shit barista if I forgot your order.” You cocked your head, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, do you want your croissant warmed up, Lorenzo?” 
“You know my name?” 
Enzo hadn’t meant to sound so starstruck, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his heart skip a beat.
“And your social security number too,” you deadpanned. Enzo’s eyes widened, which made you chuckle. “I’m just having a laugh. I promise I won’t commit identity theft against you. Unless you piss me off.” 
You accompanied the statement with a cheeky wink, which only made Enzo even more nervous. 
"Don't look so nervous, peach. I swear I don't bite."
“Right. Sure. Of course,” he stammered. “The tea and the croissant sounds good, Y/N.” The realization that you’ve never told him your name came a beat too late. “It’s on your chest. The name tag, I mean. I wasn’t just staring at your chest. Though I’m sure it’s very nice. Bloody hell, I’ll stop talking now.” 
Enzo cringed at himself, but eased when you laughed. “You’re a strange bloke, Lorenzo.” You said as you began making his drink. “But I’ve got to admit, it’s oddly charming.” 
He chuckled, trying to hide the flush coloring his cheeks. “That seems to be my sweet spot.” 
"As sweet as peaches," you retorted as you added two pumps of peach syrup into his tea. "You'll have to excuse the fruit references. Before I knew your name, I referred to you solely as the peach guy."
"Is that good or bad?"
Enzo hiked his backpack over his shoulder and meandered down the end of the counter where you were topping off his tea with a dollop of honey. You swirled it into a heart pattern before sliding the warm cup into a sleeve. 
"Well, I've never met anyone who's preferred drink could constitute as a dessert, so it's certainly something. You're an enigma, Lorenzo," you said thoughtfully. "Though I think I like peach better. You don't really strike me as a Lorenzo."
“You can call me Enzo. I prefer it over my full name. It sounds so stuffy.” 
“We certainly can’t have that,” you said with a smirk. “Enzo. I like it. It’s rather becoming. Not stuffy at all.” He chuckled as you handed him a brown bag. "I might still call you peach from time to time. Force of habit. You understand, right?"
"Of course," Enzo replied. "El loro viejo no aprende a hablar."
"You kiss your mum with that mouth, peach?"
Enzo flushed. "It's Spanish for the old parrot does not learn to talk. Basically their equivalent of you can't teach an old dog new tricks." He shifted his weight onto his other foot. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't mind if you call me peach or Enzo or whatever else you'd like."
"You're giving me way too much freedom, Enzo. I intend on taking full advantage." You winked as you slid his drink over to him. “Enjoy your croissant. I put a little something extra in there for you.” 
Enzo peered into the bag and saw an extra pastry wrapped in black cellophane next to his croissant. The brownie didn’t look like any of the ones behind the counter, which meant that it was probably homemade. Strange, he wouldn’t have pegged you for a baker. 
“Oh, you really don’t have to—” 
“Nonsense,” you countered, waving off his protests. “Really, you’d be doing me a favor. It’s an experimental recipe of mine, which makes you my guinea pig. As payment, I expect a full report on the brownie tomorrow morning. Don’t hold back either, peach. I want a brutally honest review.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Enzo said in reassurance. “In any case, your guinea pig will take ample notes.” 
“That would be much appreciated,” you said with a serious nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Enzo-not-Lorenzo.”
Enzo couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” 
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Enzo rubbed his temples, willing the headache forming behind his eyes to vanish. Unfortunately for him, his last tutoring session with Flint seemed to have left a permanent mark. While Enzo usually enjoyed teaching French, Marcus was proving to be a rather difficult case. Not only was Flint unwilling to do the work, the knobhead also spent the entire session leering at you instead of studying the conjugation chart that Enzo poured his blood, sweat, and tears on. 
“Merlin, I have no idea how you deal with rich, smarmy arseholes all day.” 
Enzo looked up to find you seated across the table, sliding a sandwich, a fruit cup, and a bag of crisps towards him without missing a beat. He hadn’t even realized it was already an hour past lunch until his stomach grumbled at the sight of food.
“One could argue that I’m also a rich, smarmy arsehole,” Enzo countered, picking up a grape and popping it into his mouth with a slight smile. “Yet you seem to have no problems dealing with me.” 
“Yes, well, everyone knows I’m just using you for your body. Specifically, your taste buds.” Enzo shook his head in amusement before taking a bite out of the sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, his favorite. “Besides, how else am I supposed to learn new insults in different languages if I hadn’t met you? Speaking of which, I believe I’m completely justified in saying that Flint is a total gehirnverweigerer.”
“Marcus isn’t so bad. He just needs a bit of a push,” Enzo replied rather unconvincingly. 
“If by a push you mean my boot against his arse, then I wholeheartedly agree.” 
“The French have this saying, petit à petit, l’oiseau fait son nid. In English, it roughly translates to: little by little, the bird builds its nest.” 
“Except Flint isn’t a bird, he’s a twat,” you deadpanned. “The bloke was too busy staring at my arse to even pick up a lick of French. To think, you even made this cute little chart and everything. You have the patience of a saint, Enz.” 
“One of us has to,” Enzo replied as he tore open the bag of wotsits. “Given your proclivity to violence.” 
“Don’t make me take your crisps away, Lorenzo.” 
Shielding his wotsits from your vengeful wrath, Enzo flashed you a saccharine smile. For good measure, he even batted his pretty honey eyes at you. The audacity. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite person in the whole entire world?” 
You rolled your eyes fondly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Berkshire. Now finish your lunch or else I’ll be very cross with you.” 
Enzo smiled to himself, wondering at the fact you were complete strangers until a few weeks ago. Ever since you gifted him with the best brownie he’s ever tasted in his entire life, he became your designated taste tester. Every morning, Enzo would start his day off with his usual lemon tea and whatever new pastry recipe you had chosen to tackle that week. Between the scones and muffins, Enzo learned that you intended on opening your own bakery after uni. Hence, his very important role of reviewing your recipes. 
Granted, Enzo didn’t know how much of a help he actually was given the fact that he thought everything you made was amazing. Still, the novelty of finding a fresh pastry in his bag with a handwritten note from you never failed to brighten his morning. Especially since you signed each one with a crimson kiss print that made him blush every time he laid his eyes upon it. It was safe to say his crush had only gotten worse the more he got to know you. 
As you settled behind the counter to help with the afternoon rush, Enzo attempted to get some work done before classes started for the day. With finals fast approaching, he was caught up on making sure he had everything in order. It wasn’t until Enzo heard a familiar voice when he finally tore his gaze away from his laptop screen. 
Enzo froze as he watched one of his best mates saunter up to the counter. Even from his seat by the window, he could tell that Mattheo was flirting with you. In hindsight, his friend seemed exactly like the type of guy you would go for. The broody bad boy who probably listened to all the obscure bands that you often talked to him about. As Mattheo directed his smoldering gaze at you, Enzo thought he might be violently ill. 
Squinting across the coffee shop, Enzo angrily shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers in an attempt to keep himself from strangling his curly headed friend. 
In a tone that was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, Mattheo drawled a question at you. “What’s good here?” 
You stared at him pointedly before waving a hand towards the menu. “There’s coffee, there’s pastries. It’s really not rocket science.”
The deadpan delivery combined with the utterly unenthused expression on your face nearly made Enzo snort out loud. It might’ve been an arsehole move to rejoice at Mattheo’s fumble, but he found it immensely satisfying that you seemed to be immune to the infamous Riddle charm. 
“A bit feisty today aren’t we, love? I just wanted to see what the pretty lady behind the counter recommends.” 
Enzo watched in amusement as you slipped on your signature scowl, the one that made him fall for you in the first place. “The pretty lady recommends that you stop holding up the line so she can get to the other customers who actually know what they want.” 
Hiding his smirk, Enzo feigned surprise as a dejected Mattheo plopped down across from him. “Merlin, that was brutal. Is the barista always this mean? I complimented her pins and she stared at me like I’d grown an extra head.” 
“Y/N isn’t really a people person,” Enzo supplied. 
“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo tapped his fingers on the counter. “Let’s just get to class before I embarrass myself any further.”
“That’s probably for the best,” replied Enzo. 
Ignoring Mattheo’s glare, Enzo packed up his laptop and put his tray away. He followed his mate through the throng of people, which had thinned out once more. They were a few steps away from the door when you called out his name. With a raised brow, you held out a pink box. Enzo smiled sheepishly in return. He couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten the dessert of the day. 
“One lemon berry scone. Less tart, per your critique last week.” He took the box from your hands, blushing furiously when your fingers brushed against his. “Have a good class, peach.” 
“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll have your full report ready tomorrow.” 
“You better.” Enzo nearly dropped the box when you winked at him. “Later, Berkshire.” 
Smiling to himself, Enzo came face to face with a gaping Mattheo. “For Salazar’s sake, it’s like I don’t even exist.” He muttered before breaking out into a grin. “No wonder my moves had no effect. Mate, she obviously fancies you.” 
Enzo’s cheeks immediately heated as he pushed out into the quad. “What? No. Y/N and I are just really good friends.” 
“Now I understand why you come here so often,” Mattheo remarked. “If the mean hot barista plied me with baked goods and called me peach, I’d be coming here every day.” 
“It's an inside joke about my drink order..." Enzo tried to explain. "The point is, Y/N isn’t mean. She’s actually really nice.” 
“Yeah, because she likes you.” 
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Does too.” Mattheo countered. “Why else would she bake you a scone?” 
“She wants to own a bakery someday. Obviously, that means she needs someone to test her recipes out on,” Enzo explained. “It’s how we became friends.” 
“Right,” Mattheo said with a shit eating grin. “Friends.” 
Enzo rolled his eyes. “Can we just please get to class?” 
“Whatever you say, peach.” 
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“I have a theory,” Mattheo announced. 
Enzo sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Not this again, mate.” 
The rest of their friends perked up, abandoning their laptop screens and textbooks in favor of the newest piece of gossip. The little corner of the library that their group had claimed was fairly quiet, which was supposed to be optimal for revising, but Mattheo couldn’t seem to let his conspiracy theory go. He'd been badgering Enzo about it for a week.
“Berkshire here refuses to believe me, but I have it on good authority that Y/N has a crush on him. 
“Y/N,” Theo started, “You mean his mean barista friend? She’s proper fit.” 
“Don’t call her fit,” Enzo replied rather defensively. 
“A little touchy there, Berkshire.” Regulus said with a chuckle. “Is that jealousy I sense?” 
“For the millionth time, Y/N and I are just friends.” 
“Is that the same friend that makes all those tasty pastries for you?” Draco asked with a raised brow. “I’ve seen the cute little notes she leaves for you posted all around your dorm. With the adorable kiss prints and hearts. Seems to me like Mattheo’s right. Y/N’s sweet on you, cousin.” 
“Do me a favour and stop being a snooping twat, cousin.” Enzo retorted with a frown. “Y/N’s just being nice. It’s what friends do.”
“None of my mates have ever gone out of their way to bake me a bloody thing,” Blaise declared in feigned offense as he wrapped an arm around Pansy. 
“Yes, well, none of your mates even know where the oven is located, let alone how to operate it,” replied his girlfriend. Pansy smiled at Enzo. “Besides, I think their friendship is sweet.” 
“Thanks, Pans.” 
“So you don’t fancy Y/N?” Theo asked. Enzo opened his mouth then closed it. He was well aware that his friend was baiting him, but he refused to fall into Theo’s trap. 
“Like I said, we’re friends.” 
“In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I asked for her number, right?” 
As a matter of fact, Enzo did fucking mind. He minded very much. Too much, probably. But he couldn’t very well say that out loud. Instead, he masked his scowl and returned his attention to revising. 
“Knock yourself out, mate.” 
Theo smirked. “Alright then, let’s go.” 
“Go where?” Enzo asked disinterestedly, flipping through his study sheet for Latin. 
“To Deja Brew,” Theo replied smugly. “We all need a study break, anyways.” 
“You want to go there? Right now?” With each question, Enzo’s death grip tightened on his notes. “To ask for Y/N’s number?” 
“That shouldn’t be a problem, right? In fact, maybe you could introduce us.” 
Enzo would rather walk on hot coals. “I think I'll pass. I've already seen her turn Mattheo down and that was brutal enough as it is. I don’t need an encore.”
“Riddle’s probably not her type.” 
Mattheo frowned, crossing his arms. “I’m everyone’s type.” 
Theo chuckled. “Apparently not hers. Perhaps she’d prefer a handsome Italian, no?” 
Mattheo rolled his eyes. “In your dreams, Nott.” 
“Now I’m intrigued,” exclaimed Blaise. “I’d never miss an opportunity to witness Theodore get humbled. Are you sure you’re ready for a woman like Y/N, Nott?” 
“Please,” Theo scoffed. “I was born ready.” 
Against his will, Enzo found himself at Deja Brew ten minutes later. In his usual corner by the window, he brooded like a petulant child. This was a horrible, terrible, and idiotic idea. All he wanted to do was revise and now his study session had been hijacked just so he could watch Theo flirt with the girl he fancied. 
“You know, you can put a stop to this any time you’d like,” Mattheo said in a sing-songy voice. “Just admit that my theory is right. Y/N has a crush on you and I’m willing to bet that the feeling is mutual. Isn’t it, Berkshire?” 
Enzo crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. Instead of giving into Mattheo’s childish pursuits, he opened his laptop and pretended to be immersed with Russian translations. 
“Have it your way, Enzo.” Regulus declared, nodding towards the register. “Nott’s about to give us a show.” 
As irritated as he was with his friends, Enzo couldn’t tear his gaze away. Theo marched up to the counter with swagger and confidence, slipping on his signature smirk. You looked up from your phone screen, giving the tall and lanky boy a sweeping gaze. The unenthused expression on your face screamed that you weren’t at all impressed.
“Y/N, is it?” Theo drawled, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron. “A pretty name for a pretty lady.” 
“Thanks,” you deadpanned. “My parents gave it to me. Now what can I get started for you?” 
“Aren’t you going to ask me for my name?” 
“I know who you are,” you replied dismissively. “One of Enzo’s friends, right? I heard about your little stunt in the fountain. You know, December’s not really a smart time to go skinny dipping.” Theo flushed as your eyes trailed down to his crotch. “Certain parts shrivel in the cold, Nott.” 
“I assure you, my parts were perfectly intact.” 
“That’s not what Katie Bell said,” you countered, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “I believe I heard something about shrinkage.” Theo opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “I’ll tell you what, Theodore. Why don’t I fix you up a cappuccino? It’ll help keep you and your parts warm and cozy.” 
Enzo bit his lip to keep himself from bursting into laughter. The rest of his friends snickered as they watched a dejected Theo return to the table. 
Regulus snorted as he sat back down in defeat. “Merlin, that was hard to watch. Absolutely brutal, really.” 
Theo glared at Regulus in response. “I’d like to see you do better, Black.” 
Regulus winked. “Watch and learn, boys.” 
The older boy had about as much luck as Theo. Though the attempts had put him in a foul mood at first, Enzo was absolutely elated as he watched you turn down his friends. Regulus received an eye roll while Draco reeled from the head to toe once-over that humbled the absolute hell out of him. 
“It’s useless,” his cousin mumbled. “She hates everyone.” 
“Or maybe Y/N just doesn’t appreciate random blokes chatting her up while she’s trying to do her job,” Pansy said with an eye roll. 
“Oh bloody hell, here she comes.” Regulus muttered under his breath. “I don’t think my ego can take another hit.” 
The boys cowered as you came closer, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, you set a fresh mug of tea and a lemon scone down in front of Enzo. 
“Last one, I promise. It’s finally perfect this time.” 
“You said that the last three times,” Enzo said with a chuckle. “They were all brilliant, by the way. Not that you listen to my well crafted reviews.” 
“You say that about everything I make, Enz. Honestly, a girl bakes you a couple of treats and suddenly I’m the best thing since sliced bread.” 
“I’m just being honest,” he replied with a shrug. “You couldn’t bake a single bad pastry if you tried.” 
“I’d like to try a pastry,” Mattheo interjected. 
You tore your attention away from Enzo. The smile that you reserved for him transformed into a scowl, your entire body language turning stern. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?” 
“Riddle,” Mattheo supplied. “Mattheo Riddle.” 
“Right,” you said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “My pastries aren’t for sale. You’re more than welcome to try the day-old brownie behind the counter though. If you can manage to chew through it.” 
Mattheo sputtered, but you paid no mind to his aghast expression. Enzo fought the urge to kiss you right then and there. 
“Closing again tonight?” he asked, ignoring the blatant stares from the rest of his friends. 
“Unfortunately. Diggory bailed again. Probably too busy snogging Cho to come in for his shift,” you said with an eye roll. 
“Leave those lovebirds alone,” Enzo quipped back. “They’re in their honeymoon phase.” 
“I can’t for the life of me understand how they aren’t sick of each other by now.” 
“That’s because you’re a mean old grump.” You glared at him, which only made Enzo smile. “Luckily for you, that doesn’t deter me. I’ll come keep you company if you want. I promise to be way more entertaining than Cedric.” 
“It’s not a hard task to accomplish, but I’ll take you up on it nonetheless.” 
“I thought you might say that,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll meet you back here after my last class. Pad Thai tonight?” 
You nodded and grinned back. “This is why you’re my favorite, peach.” 
The boys gaped as you ruffled his hair in parting. They waited until you were out of earshot before launching into a tirade. 
“What the bloody hell was that?”
“Just friends my arse.”
“I can’t believe she actually smiled at you!” 
“It’s strange how treating Y/N like an actual human being instead of pestering her while she’s trying to work yields such positive results,” Pansy retorted. “I think you all need to start following Enzo’s example. Clearly he’s had more success than you lot.” 
Blaise patted Enzo on the back. “Mate, you might be the most oblivious bloke in all of Britain, but you’d have to be an absolute knobhead not to see what’s right in front of you.” 
He hummed in response, glancing up at the exact same time that your gaze met his from across the room. You winked, making him blush furiously. Merlin, you were pretty. It was honestly unfair. Maybe Zabini was onto something.
When it came to you, even Enzo had to agree that he was a total and absolute knobhead.
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Later that night, Enzo helped you clear the plates and mugs as the last customers trickled out of Deja Brew. The soft sounds of your perfectly curated playlist trickled over the speakers as you flipped the sign to closed. He watched with a small smile as you hopped up onto the counter and beckoned him over. The fairy lights twinkled above the ceiling, illuminating your smile as Enzo took his place next to you. 
The sight of you grinning up at him tugged at his heartstrings. There were coffee stains on your jeans and apron, your thick hair was falling out of its braid, and a cold bowl of Pad Thai awaited in your lap and yet he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. 
“Aren’t you glad Cedric bailed?” Enzo teased, knocking his shoulder with yours. “Now you get to enjoy cold noodles with your favorite person.” 
You chuckled, nudging him back. “I suppose this is nicer than listening to Diggory ramble on about Quidditch. It’s always bludger this, bludger that. I honestly considered bludgeoning him myself.” 
“To be fair, the man could merely breathe and you’d still find a way to be annoyed by it.” 
“No one needs to inhale that much oxygen.”
“I rest my case, you mean old grump.” 
You rolled your eyes affectionately. “You know, if anyone else called me that I’d poke their eye out with a fork.” Enzo chuckled as you stabbed into your bowl of noodles. “Besides, I have every right to be grumpy. It’s been a long day. Thanks to your incessant little friends.” 
“I’m sorry about the guys,” he said earnestly. “I tried to talk them out of flirting with you, but they’ve got this crazy theory.” 
“Oh?” You asked, raising a brow. “What’s the theory, then?” 
Enzo flushed, avoiding your gaze. “They uh…” He cleared his throat and stared at his shoes. “They think you fancy me.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe they’re not idiots after all. Your friends are right. I do fancy you.” 
White noise rushed through his ears. Enzo’s mouth fell open as he met your gaze. Surely, he hadn’t heard you correctly. 
“You alright there, peach?” 
“You…” Enzo trailed off, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You like me?” 
You chuckled. “I have for a bit. Thanks for finally noticing.” 
“How?” Enzo muttered. “What?” He cocked his head, trying to search for the proper words. “Why?” 
At the moment, it appeared that one syllable words were the full extent of his vocabulary. All those languages in his head and yet he couldn’t form a single coherent sentence. 
“Enz, I know your drink order by heart,” you explained softly. “I make you cupcakes and muffins. I write you notes every day. I thought I made myself pretty obvious.” 
“Gods,” he breathed, silently reprimanding himself. “I really am the most oblivious bloke in Britain.” Enzo licked his lips, turning over to look at you. “I just thought you were being nice.” 
“Lorenzo, when have I ever been nice to anyone?” 
“I am a bloody idiot.” 
“You never made a move, so I just thought you didn’t see me that way. Which is fine, by the way. I don’t mind being friends.” 
Enzo turned so fast he nearly smacked into the register. “Are you kidding? I’ve had a crush on you for months. You’re the best part of my day. Waking up and knowing that I get to see you every morning is the only thing that gets me out of bed.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“Because,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’re out of my league. You’re smart and funny and not to mention way too cool. Honestly, I thought you’d go for someone like Mattheo or Theo or literally anyone else but me. Someone a little more…” he trailed off, waving a hand over you. 
“Scary?” 
“No! Well, yes. Someone more confident and intimidating.” 
“Bad boys aren’t really my type.”
He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “They’re not?” 
“No,” you said, setting down your food and turning over to face him. “My type is a nerdy linguistics major who teaches me how to curse in six different languages and who makes cute little conjugation charts and orders drinks that should quite frankly classify as a dessert.” 
Enzo’s smile grew wider. "I like you too, you know. A lot. Like, embarrassingly so. With your grumpy little scowl and all black wardrobe and dry humor. I like all of it."
You beamed as Enzo leaned closer, tracing your lips like he was trying to commit the curves of your smile to his memory. His heart pounded in his chest as your eyes flickered up to meet his.
"Then kiss me like you mean it, Enzo."
Despite your confidence, the air left your lungs as soon as Enzo cradled your face in his hands. The twinkling lights made his brown eyes shimmer like pools of honey in the dark. The tension stretched between you as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours ever so gently. They briefly closed around yours—tasting, testing, taunting. Then the dam broke free.
Enzo pressed you closer and kissed you like his life depended on it. You smiled against his lips, melting into his touch as he tilted your head back for more. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Enzo sighed into your mouth, his lips molding perfectly against yours. The once shy and experimental kisses turned needy and passionate, making you feel slightly lightheaded. Enzo savored your soft sighs, kissing you over and over again to elicit more.
It wasn't until you felt like the air had been depleted from your lungs when he finally relented. He pressed his forehead against yours, noses brushing as you both grinned at each other. It felt right to be this close. It felt like you were made to do this all along. Enzo brushed his thumb over your cheek, looking dazed as he pulled back to look at you. 
“It’s about time, Berkshire.” 
“Hey,” Enzo grumbled, pecking at your lips. “You can’t blame me. I couldn’t even look at you without blushing and making a fool of myself. You’re so intimidating.” 
“Not so scary now, am I?” 
“Oh no, I’m still terrified of you. But I’ve also seen you cry during the Notebook, so I know that deep down inside, you’re just a big softie.” 
You started to protest, but Enzo just leaned in and kissed you again. With his lips pressed against yours, you couldn’t even remember what you were about to say. As he pulled you into his lap, you heard cheers coming from outside. Behind the glass window, his friends were cheering and wolf-whistling rather obnoxiously on the street. 
Enzo responded by flicking them off and kissing you even harder, pressing your bodies together as you giggled. He hauled you to your feet, his arms circling around your waist as he dipped you for a better angle. Your back hit the counter as you raised to your tiptoes, winding your arms around his neck and mussing up his hair as you arched for more. The hollering only grew more incessant when Enzo grabbed your ass and squeezed. The groan that escaped from his mouth made you dizzy with desire.
If one kiss could elicit such a response out of you, it was almost scary to think what else Enzo had in his arsenal. A cheeky little smile curved against his lips as though he knew exactly what you were thinking. You basked under the warmth of his gaze, feeling flushed and flustered. That pretty face had you entirely fooled. Enzo was far from innocent.
“Gods, I really fucking fancy you.”
With a smile, you kissed the tip of his nose. “I really fucking fancy you too, peach.” 
Despite the many languages in Enzo's arsenal, no phrase or saying could convey how he felt better than his lips against yours. Maybe he hadn't quite mastered the language of love, but he had a feeling that you'd be more than willing to teach him.
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idkfitememate · 5 months
Text
Pt. 1(You are here!), Pt. 2, Pt. 3
So, SAGAU right? Imposter ver specifically, right? Alllll of Teyvat has been ruled by some asshole who claims to be the creator, right?
Welp.
It’s time for you to get your ass isekai’d!
One problem though….
Instead of getting your phone, or having all the elements under your belt, or anything else…
You’re a boar.
Not like a “BiG tUsK sPeCiAl PaTtErN” boar.
Just a boar you can find in the starting areas of Mondstadt that just so happens to have golden blood.
Fun.
Hell, when you first woke up, you were confused on why you were short. And why you were in fours. And hairy. And why your mouth felt so damn heavy. And dragging yourself to a small pound, you figured out why.
Shaggy brown hair and small beady black eyes staring back at you. Large, off white tusks block your forward vision so you move to the side in order to see yourself better. Designs in a darker brown line your fur, a small tail flailing in the wind.
And that is how you spent your first few months in Genshin Impact.
A simple boar trying their damnest to not die.
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
Apparently spending time by yourself makes the human mind bored (pun intended).
So.
You decided to build a boar friendly base in the trees.
You noted that all mobs weren’t hostile to you, most likely due to your god status. That and Teyvat was willing to literally bend itself backwards in order to ensure your survival. Making sure only the freshest of fruits fell to your feet, ensuring that the waters were calm when you wanted to swim, and that the winds would gently blow you off, making your fur all fluffy, so on and so forth.
It was especially nice when a hunter had their sights set on you, only for a pack of hilichurl to appear and slaughter the man, the ground swallowing him up.
Now, the first few times it was fucking horrifying, but then you kinda realized you they didn’t do that, you’d be super dead right now, so you pushed an apple over in thanks and took all the headpats you could get from the group.
Anyway, back to the main topic.
You got bored (pun intended again) of living on the ground where anyone could find you and kill you, and that was no fun! So you found a nice mountain side (since you didn’t have a map, you couldn’t say right off the top of your head where you were but you knew full well it was by Dragonspine. Gods you were so cold… but I’d be worth it!-) with a nice forest next to it, and began building.
With the help of nearby mita and lawachurls and - of course - Teyvat itself, you carved into the side of the mountain, creating a cave system that only a being as short as you could traverse. Then, you connected them to a large treehouse system and continued to work on said treehouse system. Someone would have to be focusing damn hard and not fighting the actual army of churls and slimes and other beasts that made their way to stay beneath your home to actually see… well your home.
And up you went.
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
More months had passed, and confirmed many things for you.
A. The true “Imposter” had came here long before you.
B. They very weren’t a boar.
C. You did have a human form, but your “Creator” form had a boar as a symbolic animal.
Which, while initially was a little insulting, you came to (reluctantly) agree that, yeah. That was unfortunately pretty accurate.
You could be a bit sloppy at times, keeping a good appearance wasn’t at the absolute top of your list, as well as eating well… or drinking, but still!
You continued your now lavish boar life in the trees and caves, no longer bored (I’m not sorry for reusing this pun.).
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
You had been in Teyvat for… a year now? No one suspected a boar of being the true creator, everyone was still being treated like shit by the “creator” and you were still tucked away in your little forest/cave structure home.
You got a little curious, and well?
You found that you could - in fact - do something cool!
You could control the elements! Outside of Teyvat just doing things that were in your best interests. You could grow vines! And spit fire! And burp lightning and squeal hard and loud enough that it created a whirlwind!
You could part the seas like Moses!
Anyway-
You may have gotten a bit carried away, feeling secure in where you were. So you let the churls braid some parts of your fur, and paint it… and they gave you a mask.
And you’d chase seelies. And rest with slimes.
And just do a lot of shit that most boars definitely couldn’t, wouldn’t and didn’t do.
And unfortunately, one night when you were doing a fire dance with one of your favorite hilichurl camps. (They were the ones to kill that first hunter. They also gave you your first mask and paint job).
Completely enveloped in the current happenstance, while you breathed large balls of fire into the night that somehow didn’t injure a single being nor set a single tree alight…
You missed the boy who believed he was a wolf watching from the shadows.
…Oops?
I’m shocked people actually like this thingy lol. Part 2 is on the way! As a treat, I fixed up some typos and fixed some grammar mistakes!
Have a good day/night dears! <3 ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა
P. S. Now I made a tag as well!
2K notes · View notes
midascrow · 2 months
Text
Lucifer x GN!Reader
A Fan of the Devil?
———————//————
synopsis: Charlie’s father is introduced to the hotels “Gardener”, and comes to find out that they’re a fallen soul from above. He’s also surprised to learn that they’re a fan of his.
warnings: religious pressure(?)
an: Part 1? If this is well received ofc. This is told from Lucifer’s perspective and therefore his view and inner thoughts regarding what’s going on around him. I also threw in the idea that he’s bad with names cuz that feels very accurate to me lol
—————————————————————-
He hadn’t expected his daughter’s friends to be so….eccentric, upon meeting them. Of course he knew Charlie’s heart bled gold for any sinner around, but he thought-, more so he hoped that she would keep somewhat better company.
Especially in the revelation of this “RaDiO DEmOn”.
Baggie- Mag- Vaggie, was alright he supposed. She loves his daughter, perhaps just as much as he does,that much he was sure. And while he was a bit disheartened by having not known of their relationship prior, he was still content and moved by the way the two leaned towards each others embrace as they spoke.
His heart ached. Just a bit.
“Are they up in their room again?”
“I think they’re in the Garden again, hon.”
Garden? The hotel had a garden?
“Oh! Oh maybe we could-“
“I don’t know…you know how they can be about us going in there..”
“Pshhhh! I’m sure it’ll be fine Vaggie! Plus remember how they always talked about meeting him??”
Meeting who? Who’s meeting who??
Was there some kind of owl in here?
“Dad!”
“Ah!”
Charlie blinked down at her father in an awkward beam, watching his red eyes dart around nervously, for a moment or two. “Who?!-“ His throat dried and swelled in embarrassment, cracking his voice as he fixed his pride with a dust off his hat. “Uhm…Yes? Char?” Nailed it. Totally. Very cool and suave of you big boss.
His daughter smiled, a crease in her brow before she clasped his arm and tugged him forward, away from the peering eyes of the others and down a long corridor. “There’s someone- Well-there’s someone who’s been dying to meet you! Yknow ever since they arrived here it’s just be non stop-“
Someone wanted to meet him? Why??
Surely they were a weirdo.
His grimace must’ve given him away, because Vaggie, who he hadnt noticed following them till the moment of, gave a small hum, to cut through her girlfriends words.
“They were a bit of a fanatic on earth apparently.”
He dead panned.
“A cultist.”
“No.”
“A satanist?”
“That’s not even what satanists do!”
“…..”
“….A banker-“
“Just-!….Wait and you’ll see.”
He fell silent at that, a frown pulled onto his pale lips as his feet dragged him towards wherever they were headed.
He was a bit stumped when they came upon two large doors, both decorated in shimmering glass mozaics, depicting two dividing scenes. An Angel; hands carefully cupped around a beautifully red apple, kneeled down towards the other mural, was depicted on the right. And on the Left, in the same position, with the same red apple, a demon.
He shifted uncomfortably.
“Wow Honey! I uh- Didn’t know this door even existed! It’s very cool, yes yes very cool- now let’s head back to the-!” He called nervously, a half witted laugh leaving his sharp tooth smile as Charlie nodded vigorously, shiney eyes aglow as she took hold of the golden handles of the ornate doors, pulling them open with a mighty huff as a golden light spilled from inside.
It was startling to say the least, fact proven by how Lucifer felt his wings practically shoot from his back in defense, feathers cascading down in time with the petals and leaves that followed an imaginary breeze through the threshold.
His ears strained to hear the quiet sound of rushing water and leaves shaking, birds chirping and insects buzzing quietly somewhere in the back.
His skin warmed. Not in the way it naturally did from hells weather, but as if the sun was beaming down on his skin for the first time in eons. Of course, he knew it was fake. But it was so close.
“Oh- shit! Charlie!” A voice barked beyond the golden glow of the garden, a figure stepping out from the shadows of a large bush, covered in leaves and flowers as they stumbled clumsily through, racing towards the door and slamming it shut, completely ignorant to the king beside their hip, who’s gaze pierced them in silent wonder.
He hadn’t felt that in a while.
“What did I tell you about coming in unannounced! You could throw off the entire ecosystem! The slightest temperature shift might make one of the flowers wilt or one of the fruits shrivel! At least warn me before-“
“Ahem.”
The sinner paused, shoulders jumping stiffly as they froze, finger pointed towards Charlie rudely from their rant before their gaze shifted to the side.
He heard the way their breath hitched, and his chest puffed slightly in pride, wings fluttering just slightly.
“Hello there.” He was being cheeky, he knew that, though his smile felt a tad too genuine, caused by the sheer awe that glimmered across the sinners face at the sight of him. “Lucifer Morningstar, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet.”
He couldn’t find it in himself to dislike that look. He was the avatar of pride after all.
And a small part of him took a rather large enjoyment in the stuttering and stumbling of the sinner before him.
“Y-Your highness! Oh my gosh-“ He grinned “I wasn’t expecting your company- I would’ve dressed more- well I-“ Vaggie coughed from the side, redirecting their attention as they picked the stray foliage form their hair and clothes in a frenzy, towards the garden around them.
With a startled gasp they quickly stepped to the side, nearly tumbling in their haste as they held their arm out, presenting the garden to the king. “It’s..it’s an honor to meet you Sir.” Your voice was steadier, but still thick with anxiety that stuck like molasses to your tongue.
He watched your hand tremble, just slightly. Like his.
His wings fluttered again. A warm feeling bursting through his chest and into his eyes, giving them that shine that reflected the faux golden glow of the sun in the large green room. “The pleasures all mine, My dear. Do you mind explaining what it is you have-.…here”
His smile faltered, gaze stuck on the tree that stood tall and proud in the center of the spacious garden. Its leaves and branches stretched far, each adorned by beautiful red..apples, that hung and shimmered in the light. He expected the familiar ache of guilt to swarm his heart, but was surprised when he found himself breathless instead.
“I hope it’s..somewhat accurate. I’ve only seen recreations of course, never the real thing..” Your voice was a bit muffled in his mind.
He felt you step cautiously beside him, as he continued to gaze reverently at the scene before him. Shadows and memories danced past his eyes and through the patches of sun that decorated the floor. He swore he could hear quiet calls and whispers mix with the rustling leaves.
“You made this?” It wasn’t really a question.
Plants weren’t common in hell. Especially none such as this. They simply couldn’t grow in the rotted soil that spread across his kingdom. And there was simply no pure water to be found that could sustain them. So how-
“I might’ve take a few things before I fell.” You laughed shyly, cheeks warmed under the sun and the intense gaze of the King that snapped towards you.
Lucifer finally got a proper look at you. At your eyes and your features. Your afflictions. There was no denying you were a human soul. It was clear as day and still beat deep in your being. But..
“You were in heaven?” He gasped, eyes wide, mouth agape as he turned fully towards you, the grip on his cane tight as he scanned over the few demonic markings that lined your body, and the big golden X that flashed across your entire being. For only his eyes to see.
A virtuous soul cast out? Was that even possible? To turn away a true, virtuous soul, one of the few who had made it into heavens gate from their life on earth-
“It’s safe to say I didn’t truly agree with heavens teachings. It was too…polished.” There was an easy going smile that matched your tone, as you let your eyes wander towards the tree that wisely outshined every other plant in the garden. You continued.
“Heaven wasn’t my first choice. Frankly I didnt believe in it to begin with. But my folks were..somewhat of zealots. They wanted the best for me, I know that. But I missed…” You paused, seemingly thoughtful as Lucifer watched you with rapt attention, you both becoming ignorant to the two lovers that slipped out.
Charlie smiled softly to herself. Her dad needed this.
“I missed the free will that their religion took away from me.” Your gaze was knowing, almost wise like the tree when it peered back into his own, and Lucifer swore he felt something crack. Something lift from his shoulders and pulled his wings away, letting them spread proudly, in a way he hadn’t felt or experienced in years. Possibly ever.
“You know….I always enjoyed the story of you they told on earth.” Lucifer grimaced again, the vision of you dimming for a moment as he glanced away.
“Is that so? I’m sure they’re singing my praises.” It was a dry laugh, his hands gesturing in a faux confidence, but his lips quirked when he heard your muffled one.
“No, many aren’t. Most seem to align themselves with Heavens view…” You hummed thoughtfully and stepped forwards into the soft grass that peaked through the cracks of brimstone. Lucifer followed, instinctively. He felt leashed by your presence, though not necessarily in a bad way.
“Though there are plenty, who think a little more like me. There’s many versions of your story. I always knew that the original couldn’t be the full story. Too..one sided. Time on earth taught me that there was always a second side. Someone’s else thoughts-, perspective. Falling only confirmed that.”
You words tangled with your fingers that fluttered across the branches of a close bush, caressing a small flower that curled into your touch. “The first thing I did was look for the story. Of the garden. I wanted to replicate it, though admittedly there was never much detail to go off!”
You laughed again and the sound was quickly becoming a favorite of his. It was gentle..understanding. It almost hurt.
“And when I read the story..it was different. More romantic for sure.” You flushed softly, cheeks warm again as you recalled the way the story of Lucifer and Lilith warmed your soul. “But..more honest. Heart breaking even. I couldn’t believe how horrible it was must’ve been…and never knowing how amazing your gift was..” you turned to him again, your gaze so earnest and true that it made him step back.
Lucifer couldn’t deny the warmth in his own cheeks. You were pretty..pretty? That felt mundane. You practically glowed in the garden. And while it wasn’t a perfect representation of what Eden had been, it was better.
Eden had always been..one dimensional. It lacked the depth and feeling that Lucifer had hoped to give humanity. It was gorgeous, there was no denying that. But it wasn’t real.
This…This, is what he had hoped for the garden to be. Alive. Truly alive.
And…you brought it life…because of him? It didn’t feel right in a way. Having spent so many years locked away by himself and mourning the sin and ruin he had created from his own selfish wish.
Selfish? Had it been selfish? At the time, when he had done it, it didn’t feel selfish. He wanted humanity to live. To be alive! Truly, and honestly alive.
And you were so Alive. You were dead here in hell and yet you were breathing life into this gorgeous scene because you chose to. You chose to fall too. You chose to be in hell.
Because of him? Because of his…gift?
It was ironic almost. Laughable even.
Your lips pursed, a worried sweat on your brow as you lost that roaring confidence that bled into your words prior. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to preach or anything-“ He stopped you.
“So-.…you’re a fan?” His lips screwed into a wobbly smile, embarrassment creeping up his neck at his less then poetic comment, though the laugh you graced him with almost made the shame worth it.
“You could say that. I personally think I hold the title of number one fan, but you know beggars can’t be choosers I suppose.” You gestured animatedly, a small smirk on your lips as you professed your..favor towards the king, and he gleamed.
“Well!” His hands flew to his suit, straightening it out and letting his chest puff out from its slumped frame. “May I know the name of my, alleged, number one fan?” His words were coy, smug as he gestured to you with a flourish that he had shown to the other residents. (Of course till you had so rudely stunned him to silence)
The smile you gifted him was holy.
“(Y/N)…Your highness.” Your bow was playful, a little awkward and strained, but it made him laugh.
“(Y/n), hm? I’ll be sure to remember that.” His throat cleared briefly, “I…hope you wouldn’t mind me stopping by sometime again soon..I’d like to hear a bit more about your garden.” He liked the way you looked at him in this moment. Disbelieving but so hopeful. Like he was something, someone to gaze at in such a way.
“I’d be honored.”
Maybe you had a fan of your own now, as well.
———————☆
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futureplayboibunnie · 7 months
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Heartless Pt.2
Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader
You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.
I heart slowburn x
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You idled on where you could go for your honeymoon. At least Miguel gave you the twisted liberty of choosing where you could go, you didn't even care enough to want to go to nice places anymore. Why was he trying to drag this out with a honeymoon? Neither of you wanted it, yet Miguel always valued whatever his Consigliere had to say, you weren't going to take one of your few chances to argue with him over something so minuscule, you were saving your rage and confusion for the things that would matter in the future. Maybe somewhere warm, maybe Italy or France or something. You wondered what Mexico would be like since Miguel is half Mexican, you wondered if a part of his family were settled there too- you had to admit, you were curious if the apple fell far from the tree. You immediately dismissed this misplaced curiosity, you didn"t know Miguel well enough yet and he would probably have your head on a spike if you even mentioned it. Miguel's brother Gabriel came into the penthouse to pick up a few things and you told him that you wanted to go to Italy, Gabriel said he'd pass that along to Miguel's pilot.
It was getting dark out and Miguel said you'd fly out tonight but he still wasn't back. You hadn't seen Miguel since breakfast, you probably ruffled his feathers just by challenging him minutely. All you did today was get ready, did up your hair, splashed on some makeup, wear one of the dresses he gave you, and sat around. You were bored out of your mind, if this was what married life would be like, you would be very irritable and uncooperative indeed. You couldn't back out now, being bored was better than being dead.
You took this eventless time to wander around this penthouse, one of his capos told you he owned many but this was one of the nicer ones, it was quiet, serene. You spent this day with one of Miguel's lackeys stationed outside of the door and Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes, AKA the maid, but you actively avoided her.
It was a nice place to live in, expensive and clean, but it felt...empty, even with people in and outs mavbe it was just the lack of Miguel that was making you feel this way. Your heels clicked around and your eyes squinted towards Miguels study.
Should you...? You'd probably get a shot to the kneecap at least for meddling with Miguel's private affairs. Your fingers wandered to the handle tentatively, your curiosity outweighed your fear. It would be a stupid mistake, yes, but if Miguel wasn't going to be here now, he definitely wouldn't be around later, so you had time to snoop and pretend you weren't there.You opened the door and your eyes shot around, he was such a neat freak, but there were bits of paper strewn on his desk. His desk was dark oak, it was almost black, his desk chair was real black leather too, and the warm ambient lights offered some sort of atmosphere where he could work. You strolled softly behind his desk to look at the loose papers. The first one was marriage papers, the official documents to your betrothal, the other one was the NDA you signed and the last one was...an entire background check on you. You sifted through the paper and there were pictures of you walking around on the streets of New York, you clutched onto it, your eyes narrowing at the words you were reading on the page.
It had your bank details.
Your clothing measurements.
Your GPA.
The earnings of your parent's company.
Every ex-boyfriend you've ever had
The shops you go to.
Your favourite food.
Quite literally everything about you.
He ran a background check on you and had someone follow you around before you got engaged. You frowned at the paper. You set it down and sighed, taking a minute to consolidate what you had just read. Raking a hand through your hair, you walked around his desk and stole a glance at the walls- you couldnt believe you missed what he hung up on the walls. You inched forward to inspect the Renaissance paintings that covered the room, he even had a real Caravaggio, Lord knows how much it cost. Then you shifted towards a picture that wasn't a painting. It was of Miguel and his brother when they were about teenagers, embracing each other for the camera after a presumably long day of playing sports or something like that- but what really stunted you was that he was smiling. You don't think you've ever seen Miguel smile at all.
What you didn’t realise was that Miguel was at home, trying to find you in the penthouse.
He knew he was an hour late but he was held up by some important consultations. His brow raised when out of the corner of his eye, he found the door to his study open which was very odd- it was always left closed, he should probably invest in a lock. His fingers opened it up sottly and there he found you, snooping around his study like a second-rate degenerate criminal, but when he found you, you were gawking at the art on his walls. You were absorbed in the paintings, in a trance akin to that of a dream, he almost didn't want to disturb you, You were wearing a slinky black strapless dress that hugged you just right, it stopped just below the knee, your skin was glowing in the ambient light, the heels on your feet making you look taller, but not as tall as him. He liked that he had the choice to power over you.
He had the sentiment he always had when he looked at you: you looked nice.
“Enjoying your prying?” A low irritated voice husked behind you, you turned around and yelped in surprise, your chest heaved at the shock of seeing him right here, in a place you had no business being in. You were dead already. You winced when your eyes met his, he seemed amused and annoyed all at once as you gaped at him at the doorway. He was so….so…clean and smart but his sleeves were rolled up and a few buttons were undone, he ditched his tie as you saw it in his hand. You swallowed thickly.
“I'm fine.”You seemed to muster up, unsure of what else to say, You had to admit, you were a little afraid but you would rather die than show that. You weren't sure what was going to fall out of his mouth, probably a verbal tongue-lashing. “Caravaggio? His paintings are rather dark.” You couldn't help but comment on it, of course, he would have refined taste, not just in anything business-related but also something as cultural as art.
“Isn't that what's fascinating about it?” Miguel grumbled, hoping you wouldn't hear him. It was a bright, keen and astute observation. You pursed your lips and stayed silent whilst crossing your arms. “I don't want you in here.” He clipped coldly as he finally made his way to approach you, he stole a look towards his desk and found that a few papers had been messed with. So you know about it now.
“I don't want you having your capos stalk me.” You bit back shrewdly with challenging eyes and Miguel raised an eyebrow a little, just enough for you to notice from the corner of your eye. Touche, dick.
“I have to know how I'm working with.” He said so emotionless, so flatly. Like everything was about business, like neither of you was actual people with feelings.
“Well, I don't know who I'm working with, so you're not fighting fair.” You inched forward to him as you let out with a strained breath. Unfortunately for him, your statement made him think.
“You won't have to and you're right, I don't fight fair.”
“I told Gabriel I want to go to Italy, by the way.” You pivoted the subject around and Miguel was internally pleased that you did.
“Portofino is nice this time of year.” He commented briskly, again, reverting back as if you were mere acquaintances discussing destination spots and the fucking weather. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth.
-
You packed quickly and Miguel's driver took all your bags as you were about to head out of the front door. You weren't really paying attention as Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes was all over Miguel again, talking to him about what needed to be done the time both of you came back. You didn't know why you didn't like her, it was probably because she was so obvious about it, she was practically drooling over your husband as if you weren't here.
He was your husband. Whether you liked it or not. When she glanced over at you, you raked a tuft of hair behind your ear, your wedding ring on full display as you did so, she definitely noticed it with the way her face settled into a scowl.
It didn't take long until you were both in the back seat of Miguel's lamp-black Porsche, completely silent to the drive to the airstrip that Miguel owned. You blinked out the window, watching the bright city lights blur into colors against the dark of night, well-mannered in your straight posture and crossed legs. Miguel took a second to contemplate your presence, he almost hated how well-behaved you were. A small fraction of him wanted to see you get messy, preferably under him. He shook the defiant out of his head with a scowl, staring out of his own window in response. There was this thick tension between you, this sustaining of a non-existent friendship, trying to keep the conversation simple and polite between you and the man you barely knew anything about.
He did his research but your parents did their own- they didn't let you get involved even though you were the one they were marrying off.
It felt like forever in the car, Miguel escorted you out like a...gentleman. Watching you sway so confidently up the stairs to his private jet. He had a full view of your ass in that dress he liked, he didn't know how to feel about it so he just breathed deeply instead. Miguel followed you up, stepping into the cool, crystalized plush leather of the plane. Jesus, the amount of money he spent on this is probably uncountable, just thinking about it made your head ache. Miguel watched as you were awed at the interior, he had a slight feeling of contempt at your reaction, like you didn't think your lifestyle would change into this. He makes this kind of money every minute. He was a very wealthy man. He could afford 20 of these if he wanted to. You needed to stop being so surprised and get used to shit like this.
You thought that Miguel would probably want to sit the furthest away from you, he was distant like that but a flash of confusion covered your face when you found him sitting next to you as he did up his seatbelt.
So close.
The proximity was...different. So different.
“Good evening, Mr. O'hara.” Before you knew it a soft sensual voice in front of you pierced through your absent-minded thoughts. Oh, of course. Another insanely beautiful woman worked for him. She took out a single glass and pulled out a 100-year-old Merlot. Her perfectly tailored uniform clung to her so tightly it was like glue. Of course, he had a gorgeous flight attendant. Of course. It shouldn't bother you, but for some reason it did. “How was your night...with your friend here?” She glanced to the side at you, finally realizing that it wasn't just her and Miguel in the plane, so they couldn't exactly fuck like dogs. Her face scrunched into a condescending smile, looking you up and down. It was obvious she was defeated but she concealed it behind bright eyes. Why did every single woman who worked for him want to fuck him? It was honestly galling.
“She's my wife.” Miguel said thickly, his voice held a certain gravitas, and his tone was clipped, almost like he was annoyed. The revelation seemed to get to Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes Number 2, her face dropped and it honestly made you feel better. “And yes, we had a good night, thank you. Please get another glass for us please.” It was almost like he was politely laying into her.
“Of course, Mr O'Hara.” She smiled softly as she whisked away to get another glass.
Miguel wanted to roll his eyes. Yeah, yeah baby, keep dreaming he wanted to say. He really didn't like it when people gawked at him, especially the women who worked for him. It wasn't him who employed all these objectively beautiful women, it was Gabriel and he was extremely biased. He doesn't fuck his staff. Well, he can't because he's a married man. Married to you. A beautiful woman who he just can't figure out. Even though, he had all the info he could get about you...the way you talked to him, and the way you acted around him was confusing. You were so puzzling and he wanted to uncover the secrets that you held, how messy you could actually get behind this complacent good girl agenda.
His eyes flickered to you and it was obvious you were lost in your own little world. He looked at your lap and noticed that you weren't wearing your seatbelt, before his mind could even check it, his hands reached out for your seatbelt.
You almost jumped into your seat when you realized where his hands were, he was leaning towards you, close enough where you could fully smell his deep and rich cologne. He did your seatbelt and without hesitation, tightened it harshly with one tug, you gasped softly at the unexpected action. Woah. His hands were...big.
“Make sure you don't die a day after your wedding day.” He muttered just above a whisper. You let out a gentle cough and resumed your 'respectable' position, pretending like it didn't affect you whatsoever.
Miguel wanted you to be affected by him, maybe so he could intimidate you. But after just a short few days together and many moments of where you should be intimidated by him- you weren't. It was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He could have you affected by him in another way…maybe sexual tension would do the trick in breaking this facade you had up... He contemplated the idea but then ultimately rejected it as quickly as it came.
He can't fraternize with you.
This was merely a business transaction.
He wanted this as clean as possible.
No feelings. No fucking up.
He would never get involved. He won't do it.
He’s done too much to stop now.
-
taglist (giggles): @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann
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barefoot-joker · 2 months
Text
Snake in the Garden Pt 3~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader
Hello guys, and welcome to the third installment of Snake in the Garden! This chapter is a bit longer than the first two, so I hope you enjoy the extra words. I'm excited to bring in the next chapter for you all and I bet Lucifer will be happy to see you too! The taglist is still open, so if you're interested in joining comment down below! As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!
Words: 3048
Warnings: Non-Con Kissing, Mental Breakdown, Forced Marriage, Swearing
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
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I shook as I locked the bathroom door behind me. I had left Lucifer in his workshop while I claimed I needed to do my business. Even with him so far away I was still so nervous. After I made sure nobody was around, I started emptying the pockets of my pants. I was keeping different colored pieces of fabric on my person and taking them out felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. Setting them on the counter, I went into the cabinet below the sink and pulled out my secret. In the privacy of the bathroom I was building a rope. Over the past few weeks I had been collecting different fabric from all around the palace. Napkins, towels, shirts, nothing was free from my building process. Sitting on the toilet, I grabbed my newly acquired material and tied it to the end of the rope. The rope itself was quite long and only a few more pieces would need to be added in order for it to reach the full height out of the window. Satisfied with my work, I put it back in the cabinet and went on my way back to the workshop. 
My days passed by slowly and I was counting down to when I could finally escape. Lucifer was getting touchy feely more than ever. It was so bad I couldn’t go a minute without his hands on me. I tried to tell him to stop but that just made his body get closer to mine and his grip to get a bit tighter. I absolutely hated it. His courting was getting worse too. Every day I’d wake up to a new rubber duck or bouquet of flowers being thrusted at my face, a wide smile on his face and a blush spreading from cheek to cheek. The only time I could find for myself was using the bathroom either for bathing purposes or other forms of business. 
One day I found myself in the dining room eating breakfast. Lucifer sat across from me reading his newspaper. However he seemed very fidgety as his leg kept bouncing underneath the table and his claws were tapping the paper in his hands. I was a bit nervous as I had never seen him act like this before and I wasn’t sure what was to come from it. After our plates were cleared, Lucifer came to my side and took me by the hand. He gave it a quick kiss before leading me through the glass doors to outside. We walked to a spot on the property I haven’t been to yet. We stopped by a small gazebo and inky black arms wrapped around my waist. “Ta da!”
One of his arms gestured to the dead grass in front of us. I was confused until I saw it change to a healthy green color. Amazed, I watched as bushes of flowers popped up from the ground and a tree with some apples grew before my very eyes. Rows upon rows of vegetables magically appeared as well. I gasped at how beautiful the scenery was before me. “I’d like to present to you your very own garden. I’ve been thinking of gifting this to you for a while but I couldn’t find the right moment. What do you think?”
I was speechless. All of this was for me? I understood this was part of his courting but the gesture was super nice.
“It’s…it’s beautiful, Lucifer. Thank you.”
He gasped and turned to me. His eyes lit up and a huge smile went from one red cheek to the other. “Was that a thank you I heard? Please hold the applause! Can we hear that one more time?”
I giggled. “Thank you.”
He leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You’re welcome, darling. How about you take a look around while I grab some paperwork.”
He kissed my forehead and then poofed away in a cloud of red smoke. I coughed a bit as the smoke cleared and waved my hand to try and move it away faster. From where I stood, I could see the hole in the fence and as much as it called to me, I stayed put. I just needed some more time and then I’d be free. While Lucifer was away I walked around my newly acquired garden and smiled. It was actually quite the spectacle, but who could expect less from the Sin of Pride? 
Suddenly in a flash, Lucifer returned with a butt load of papers in his hand. “Did you have a chance to look around, my dear?”
“I did.”
“Is it to your liking? I can always add in more shrubbery or substitute the flowers for something else.”
“No, it’s quite lovely. Thank you.”
He puffed out his chest and smiled. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that. Now before I begin my boring paperwork, is there anything I can get you?”
“Perhaps a trowel and a bucket?”
“Of course.”
He snapped his fingers and next to me on the grass appeared those two items. “I’ll just be over at this table so if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask, sweetie.”
“Will do.”
“Good girl. Have fun!”
True to his word, Lucifer sat at a small, white, metal table and began working on his stack of paperwork. I was curious to know what kind of contracts and other tasks the King of Hell had to accomplish, but I just ignored that wish. Turning to the apple tree I noticed some weeds, so I headed over. Kneeling down, I took the trowel and began to dig out the vermin and put them in the bucket. Everytime I dug out a weed it seemed like another one appeared. I growled and kept going, but the process was soon becoming tedious. Just as I was about to give up, I heard chuckling coming from the table. I looked over to see Lucifer hiding his laughter behind one of his papers. “So you’re the reason I can’t get through this task. Get back to work, mister!”
I playfully shook my trowel at him and he gave a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
I laughed and went back to shoveling. Without Lucifer’s magic making more appear, weeding the apple tree went fairly quickly. After that was done, I moved onto the other bushes and rows of vegetables. It took me several hours but I was finally done weeding. I wiped the sweat off of my brow and let out a breath. It had been a while since I was able to do something I enjoyed in this hellhole. Walking over to the table, I sat down across from His Majesty. I set the bucket with the trowel and weeds inside on the grass. “Whatcha reading?”
“Monthly business reports from the different Sins. I doubt you’d find it entertaining. I certainly don’t.”
I had to chuckle. It was kind of funny to see this side of him. Wait a minute, what am I thinking?! Are you stupid?! He kidnapped you and is trying to court you! Get a grip, woman!
I shook my head and fiddled with my fingers. “Say, how about I take you out for dinner tonight. You’ve been so lovely here at home and I think we both deserve a treat.”
Oh you have no idea how wrong you are.
“Sounds nice. Anything you want me to wear?”
A smirk grew on his lips and he ran his claws up and down my arm. Goosebumps appeared on my skin and I had to suppress a shudder. “That red dress we got you would be a nice statement piece. Really sell the whole ‘you’re mine’ ideology.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I know you’ll do the right thing.”
Yeah right. 
I pulled my arm away so he’d stop touching it. “I was maybe going to go read in the library if that’s alright with you.”
“Of course, my dear. I’m almost done here so I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
I nodded and began to walk away. I heard him hum so I turned to look at him. He seemed so happy as he signed something. I almost felt bad for leaving him shortly but then I reminded myself of all the things he had done to me. Keep your focus, Y/n. Don’t lose sight.
I grunted and made my way inside to the library on the second floor. When I got there I walked over to one of the various bookcases. There were ten in total and each one reached the high vaulted ceiling. I scanned the titles of some of the books and landed on a fantasy novel, The Last Human. Quite the odd book to have.
I peeled it from its brothers and sat down in one of the plush leather, burgundy armchairs. I opened it and began to read. A few hours passed as I read, Lucifer coming in to join me at some point. He chose the chair next to mine and I felt his fingers playing with my thigh. I tried to not pay much attention to it and concentrate on my book. The novel itself was quite interesting, a spin on The Last Unicorn if you will. 
When night had fallen, the two of us changed. I donned the red, floor length garment that he wanted me to wear while Lucifer put on a black tuxedo. A servant drove us to the inner sanctum of the city and when we stopped His Majesty helped me out of the car. I thanked him and took the arm he held out. We walked into the posh looking restaurant and the cat hostess seemed surprised to see us. “Your Highness, welcome.”
“Hello. I placed a reservation for two earlier today.”
“Let me check the list.”
Her finger scanned down a piece of paper and then tapped a specific spot. “Here we are. Follow me please.”
She led us past several tables before we reached a table in the middle of the room. The table had a white tablecloth and vase with a rose in it. A candle in a glass bubble sat next to the vase in the center. Lucifer acted like a gentleman and pulled my chair out for me. He scooted it close before taking his seat. “Somebody will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you.”
The hostess left us and not even a minute later an imp waitress appeared. “Hello, my name is Jenny and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get started for you two?”
“A bottle of your finest champagne, please.”
“Right away, Your Highness.”
She bowed and ran off. “Champagne? What’s the special occasion?” “What? A man can’t enjoy some fancy liquor with the woman he loves?”
He reached across the table and squoze my hand. I felt some heat rise to my cheeks and I looked away. The restaurant was quite packed. All the tables had some form of couple sitting at it. Our waitress returned with two tall glasses and a green bottle that read Beelzebub’s Special Brew. She popped the cork and poured some champagne into each of our glasses. “Now could I get you two something to eat?”
“Yes, just some pasta for both of us.”
“Of course, Sire. I’ll be out with that shortly.”
I watched as she ran off again. “I hope that was okay. I know you tend to favor pasta when Belfazaar serves it at home.”
“It’s fine.”
I grabbed my glass and took a sip. It was quite good, a bit on the sweeter side. “How is it?”
“Good. I’ll admit I haven’t had champagne since the last wedding I attended.”
At the mention of Earth, I could feel my aura dampen. While my “lover” tried to make my stay as homey as possible, I still longed for the green and blue planet. Lucifer must have noticed the mood change because the hand on top of mine caressed it lightly. “Still missing Earth, huh?”
I nodded. He sighed. “I thought I was making your stay in Hell quite cozy.”
“You have made it as comfortable as you can, Lucifer. Truly. I just miss my home is all.”
“Then perhaps I need to step up.”
Suddenly he stood and pulled out a black box. “Lucifer, what are you-”
I stopped when I saw him kneel. My eyes widened and my breath hitched. No, he couldn’t possibly be…
He opened the box and amongst the plush red velvet lay a golden ring made to look like a snake. Everyone in the restaurant started to gasp and I could see demons pull out their phones to record what was happening. “Please, don’t do this.”
The attention just made Lucifer more happy. “Y/n, I know you’ve been struggling with Hell lately. Trust me, I was there too once. However, I want to be by your side and make you comfortable, happy. More than anything I want to shelter and adore you. I think it’s time we made this official. Will you, Y/n L/n, marry me?”
My body stilled and my mind went blank. Everyone’s attention was on the two of us and the stares made my body flare up. I gulped. What should I do? What should I do?! WHAT SHOULD I DO?! If I accept, will I ever be able to go home? If I don’t, what will he do? He’s capable of so many things, what will he choose to do to me?
I could feel my breath getting stuck in my chest and my eyes started to water. Was it always this hot in here?
“I, I, I-”
“Please, Y/n. Make me the happiest man in all of Hell.”
He lifted the box a bit higher and the ring seemed to sparkle in the light. I looked into his eyes and could only find adoration there, them sparkling just like the ring. Everyone’s staring, just say something. JUST SAY SOMETHING, DAMMIT!
“Y-YES!”
I slapped my hands over my mouth quickly but it was too late. Lucifer plucked the piece of jewelry out of the box and put it on my ring finger. He stood up and for the first time kissed my lips. My eyes widened and I went to push him away, but he grabbed my hands in a tight hold. Everyone around us was applauding and cheering us on and I just wanted to die inside. He pulled away and caressed my cheek lightly. “I love you, my dear.” 
He sat himself back in his chair and smiled at me from across the table. I held my hand and looked at the piece of jewelry now adorning it. It was quite intricate for an engagement ring. Each one of the snake’s scales was engraved into the gold and a little diamond made up the eye. “Quite lovely, isn’t it? I’ve had that made since we first met. It feels nice to finally gift it to you.”
I was sick of looking at it, so I slid my hand under the tablecloth. So that’s why the courting had been ramped up recently. Because he was going to ask me to marry him.
“I thought it would be special to make it in the form we met in. That way it would be more meaningful to our relationship. I hope you like it, darling.”
I just nodded. I couldn’t force myself to say anything in case I said something rash and ruined my plan. Jenny came back to our table with two bowls and set them down. “Here we are. And congratulations on the engagement! I’m looking forward to the wedding.”
“Looks delicious, thanks!”
The two of us picked up our forks and began to eat. I slowly picked at mine and ate little bites while Lucifer talked. “So when do you want to have the wedding, darling? I was thinking a couple months from now when the Pentagram moon will be out. It’ll make the day even more special! Oh, we’ll have to get planning right away! I have so many ideas in mind, how about you?”
“I guess.”
“Are you alright, my little apple?”
“I’m feeling a bit sick actually. Could we maybe go home?”
“Of course, my dear. Let me just pay the check.”
Lucifer flagged down our waitress, paid the bill and then led me out to the car. Customers kept shouting at us congratulations as we left and I remained silent the whole ride home. When we arrived inside, I immediately headed for the bedroom. If I was going to escape, it better be tonight. “I think I’ll take a bath and then head to bed, Lucifer.”
“Alright. I’ll be in my office for a bit. I hope you feel better soon, dear.”
He gave me a light peck on the forehead and then left. Now to put my plan into action.
I headed to the wardrobe and pulled out a light blue nightgown. I grabbed it and went into the bathroom. Locking the door, I pulled off the red dress and put on the nightgown. Opening the cabinet, I pulled out my rope. Grabbing the red dress, I attached it to the end and tied the rope to the foot of the bathtub. Tugging on it to make sure it was secure, I unlatched the window and threw it out. I looked back at the door to make sure nobody was there and then began climbing down. My stomach twisted as I was quite high up and my foot had slipped a couple of times, but I finally made it to the ground. Peering around the corner of the palace, I saw David and Goliath sleeping in the front yard. Good to go.
I bolted as fast as I could to the hole in the fence. I moved aside the bushes and quickly squoze through. I hissed as the fence had caused a couple of gashes on my arm and tore a bit of my nightgown from the sharp edges. Looking around for some kind of direction, I saw in the distance the sparkling marquee that read Hazbin Hotel. I grinned and ran like my life depended on it.
~~~
TAGLIST
@ladymothbeth @cosmic-spider @l0vedoe @stormz369 @strawberry-gothic @repostingmyfavs @purplechan9 @caniseethefourthsword @rl800 @froggybich @txpchhhhhhh @stayinguplate @theonlykawaiigod-blog
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By: Chloe Cole
Published: July 28, 2023
On Thursday, her 19th birthday, Chloe Cole testified to Congress with a “final warning” that medical treatments to change the gender of confused children is horrific. Cole, who was given surgery as a teenager to become male and soon regretted it, said what she needed most was therapy, not a scalpel. Here is what she told lawmakers:
My name is Chloe Cole and I am a de-transitioner.
Another way to put that would be: I used to believe that I was born in the wrong body and the adults in my life, whom I trusted, affirmed my belief, and this caused me lifelong, irreversible harm. 
I speak to you today as a victim of one of the biggest medical scandals in the history of the United States of America. 
I speak to you in the hope that you will have the courage to bring the scandal to an end, and ensure that other vulnerable teenagers, children and young adults don’t go through what I went through. 
Deceit & coercion 
At the age of 12, I began to experience what my medical team would later diagnose as gender dysphoria.
I was well into an early puberty, and I was very uncomfortable with the changes that were happening to my body. I was intimidated by male attention. 
And when I told my parents that I felt like a boy, in retrospect, all I meant was that I hated puberty, that I wanted this newfound sexual tension to go away.
I looked up to my brothers a little bit more than I did to my sisters. 
I came out as transgender in a letter I sent on the dining room table.
My parents were immediately concerned.
They felt like they needed to get outside help from medical professionals. 
But this proved to be a mistake.
It immediately set our entire family down a path of ideologically motivated deceit and coercion.
The general specialist I was taken to see told my parents that I needed to be put on puberty-blocking drugs right away. 
They asked my parents a simple question: Would you rather have a dead daughter or a living transgender son? 
The choice was enough for my parents to let their guard down, and in retrospect, I can’t blame them.
This is the moment that we all became victims of so-called gender-affirming care.
I was fast-tracked onto puberty blockers and then testosterone. 
The resulting menopausal-like hot flashes made focusing on school impossible.
I still get joint pains and weird pops in my back.
But they were far worse when I was on the blockers. 
Forever changed 
A month later, when I was 13, I had my first testosterone injection.
It has caused permanent changes in my body: My voice will forever be deeper, my jawline sharper, my nose longer, my bone structure permanently masculinized, my Adam’s apple more prominent, my fertility unknown. 
I look in the mirror sometimes, and I feel like a monster.
I had a double mastectomy at 15.
They tested my amputated breasts for cancer.
That was cancer-free, of course; I was perfectly healthy.
There is nothing wrong with my still-developing body, or my breasts other than that, as an insecure teenage girl, I felt awkward about it.
After my breasts were taken away from me, the tissue was incinerated — before I was able to legally drive. 
I had a huge part of my future womanhood taken from me.
I will never be able to breastfeed.
I struggle to look at myself in the mirror at times.
I still struggle to this day with sexual dysfunction.
And I have massive scars across my chest and the skin grafts that they used, that they took of my nipples, are weeping fluid today, and they’re grafted into a more masculine positioning, they said. 
After surgery, my grades in school plummeted.
Everything that I went through did nothing to address the underlying mental health issues that I had.
And my doctors with their theories on gender that all my problems would go away as soon as I was surgically transformed into something that vaguely resembled a boy — their theories were wrong.
The drugs and surgeries changed my body, but they did not and could not change the basic reality that I am, and forever will be, a female. 
Depths of despair 
When my specialists first told my parents they could have a dead daughter or a live transgender son, I wasn’t suicidal.
I was a happy child who struggled because she was different. 
However at 16, after my surgery, I did become suicidal.
I’m doing better now, but my parents almost got the dead daughter promised to them by my doctors.
My doctor had almost created the very nightmare they said they were trying to avoid. 
So what message do I want to bring to American teenagers and their families?
I didn’t need to be lied to.
I needed compassion.
I needed to be loved. 
I needed to be given therapy that helped me work through my issues, not affirmed my delusion that by transforming into a boy, it would solve all my problems. 
We need to stop telling 12-year-olds that they were born wrong, that they are right to reject their own bodies and feel uncomfortable with their own skin. 
We need to stop telling children that puberty is an option, that they can choose what kind of puberty they will go through, just like they can choose what clothes to wear or what music to listen to. 
Pseudoscience 
Puberty is a rite of passage to adulthood, not a disease to be mitigated.
Today, I should be at home with my family celebrating my 19th birthday.
Instead, I’m making a desperate plea to my elected representatives.
Learn the lessons from other medical scandals, like the opioid crisis. 
Recognize that doctors are human, too, and sometimes they are wrong. 
My childhood was ruined along with thousands of de-transitioners that I know through our networks.
This needs to stop. You alone can stop it. 
Enough children have already been victimized by this barbaric pseudoscience.
Please let me be your final warning. 
Thank you.
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Might as well call her a murtad and kufr.
"The medical industry mutilated me, maybe don't mutilate other kids," shouldn't require bravery or renouncing an ideology.
Reminder: A minor under the age of 18 is too young to agree to a cellphone contract. 🤦‍♀️
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kyouka-supremacy · 2 years
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Thinking about... The utter ooc-ness of Akutagawa in chapter 9. Highly missing the Akutagawa who would have obliterated Dazai on sight 😔😔😔
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#ryūnosuke akutagawa#Like I really don't get what was going through Asagiri's mind but it does feel like a big narrative inconsistency#Like. I'm not saying that such reaction is odd or ooc for Akutagawa per sé.#But it *is* out of place / ooc if then you have Aktgw back to openly asking for Dazai's approval like five chapters later?#In chapter 9 it looked like he was on his way to getting over Dazai but then as of the Guild arc he's back–#not only wishing for Dazai's approval - which arguably is something he always carried with him - but actually‚ factually ASKING for it–#and overall back to humiliating himself and making himself miserable for Dazai all over again#Which is something chapter 9 Aktgw would have never done lmao he LITERALLY PUNCHED DAZAI IN THE FACE WITH ALL HIS STRENGTH#I miss it so much but also realistically canon!Akutagawa would have never done that???#Not the Akutagawa of the remaining 79 chapters anyway#And I understand that getting over an abusive relationship is a long process with its highs and lows#But the fact that post-chapter 9 Aktgw has never again spoken up against Dazai and was consistently back to being Dazai-obsessed ever since#Makes it feel like chapter 9 was really Asagiri just not having figured out where they wanted to go with Akutagawa's character yet#Anyways. I adore chapter 9 Akutagawa I really wish canon Akutagawa would get over Dazai and obliterate him once again 💕💕#mine#q.#Edit: It just came to my attention that Akutagawa was back to wanting to kill Dazai in Dead Apple too#Tbh I don't think he was speaking from heart back then but guy's clearly unstable
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churipu · 3 months
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( OO2 ) ★ dude (romantically) , gojo satoru
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featuring. gojo satoru x reader
warnings. cursing, 2006 highschool era, one sided enemies to lovers (alias u hate him bcs of "reasons", and u think he hates him too), gojo being such a fucking tease i love hate him so much, a lot of cringe and weird pet names from gojo bcs he's kind of a little shit, you being mean to him and you make him sad (but you'll make up dwdw, i don't need angst rn), um...kissing (yhyh u guys kissed, so what >:() // wc: 4.0k
ENTRY ( OO2 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE
"i hate you." "say that again?"
tags: @sad-darksoul, @sweeneyblue1, @idkuluka, @colorful-happy-shit
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there are a lot of moments that you hate in life, but with all due respect, meeting gojo satoru has got to be at the top of your fucking list.
white hair, blue eyes deeper than the ocean. god, why does he have to be so pretty? why couldn't he be born with no hair and no eyes at all? because that, that would make it easier to hate him completely — yes, you're implying that he's physically attractive.
"hey, apple pie," gojo sings out, slinging an arm over your shoulder, "i missed you."
you pushed him away harshly, "don't call me that, gojo. and i don't fucking miss you," a strained whine escaped his throat as he feel the distance in between you both widen at your push.
"come on, sugar bear."
"jesus christ, stop calling me those fucking nicknames." you seethe out at him, standing up to walk away — escaping this hell, escaping gojo satoru and whatever tricks he had up in his sleeve.
"i know you like them," gojo sings out, skipping to catch up with you. shoving both of his hands inside his pockets, "come on, annoyed acrylic nail."
you stopped for a bit, amazed at the nickname. so amazed that you almost actually pulled out a laugh card at him — god, he's insufferable, "what the fuck was that nickname?"
"you kiss your mother with that mouth?" gojo asks, leaning down a bit to put his ugly face up close to yours. frankly, it's frustrating because he's an absolute beauty, what a prick.
"my mother's dead."
gojo widened his eyes a tad bit, "my god — pumpkin, it was just a saying." he sighs, scratching his nape awkwardly, "sorry for your loss."
you rolled your eyes, continuing your aimless walk. the sole point of this walk was to avoid the male, yet here he was, walking alongside you. silently. as you turned corners after corners, he trailed behind you, turning the same corners after corners.
"can you," i look at him, "leave me alone? why the hell are you following me?"
gojo shrugs, "no reason. can't i do that now?" you shook your head, "and why not?"
"this is — stalking. an act of following me around, i feel intimidated. do you want me to file a report, huh? huh?" gojo chuckles at your ramble, finding you quite adorable; in his eyes, you were like this small creature, trying to be intimidating.
"definitely not." he chuckled, "come on, chatterbox. you should let me take you out sometimes, what d'ya' think? sounds good?"
"no. just — don't talk to me, don't look at me, don't even breathe the same air as i am," you muttered out, flipping your middle finger at the male out of annoyance making him guffaw.
his slender fingers grabbed your hand, pushing it down gently, "are you implying that i should die?" his voice came out cheeky and teasing.
"yes."
he rolled his eyes, "you're gonna miss me when i do actually die, bet you'll cry and say y'miss me." the male laid his hand on top of your head — patting it lightly, "come on, bonbon. let me take you out, for food, for smoothies, for desserts. anything you want, i'll give it to you."
you heaved out a sigh, "gojo, no — just, no. and leave me alone."
the male eyes you, "you hang out just fine with suguru. all sunshine and rainbows, why d' you not give me the same treatment, huh?" he questions, almost offended at the thought of both you and suguru laughing and joking in front of him.
"'cause you're not him, obviously."
gojo furrowed his brows, expression filled with frustration, "what does that even mean? what's so different about suguru and i? he's a good guy, but 'm a good guy too. right?" he asks, voice low and meek.
"just — shut up, alright? leave me alone."
this time, the male complied; refusing to trail your figure as you disappeared around the corner. his eyes following you until you were gone, chewing on his lip in annoyance.
he didn't understand you, in his eyes you were like a lost cause. and it perturbed him, his peace, his life. the male is dying to know whatever the hell he'd done wrong to make you hate him so much, whether it being his constant nickname for you or was it because of the fact that he's always there to make fun of you?
gojo wouldn't be this bothered if you were like this to everyone. however — the fact is that you're only like this to him. and why? he didn't know.
and he hates it.
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very helpful google.
the teen boy threw his head back, sighing out loudly — a few hours since that conversation with you and he still hasn't been able to get you out of his mind.
"what'cha doing?" a shadow peered over him, the white haired male fluttered his eyes open slowly; the afternoon sun gracing his face as he tries to make out who the person above him was.
"nothing," he muffled out, looking to the side — geto chuckled, jumping over the male's head before taking a seat next to him, "did you just jump over my head?"
"mhm," geto hums, "so? is it about y/n?"
gojo looks at his friend, "was it that obvious?" geto chuckled, nodding his head mutely, "try to think about it — as far as we've known each other, what the hell have i ever done wrong to them? i'm so lost."
"who knows? maybe they like you."
gojo rolled his eyes, "who in their right mind, would act like that to the person they like? that's just stupid." geto chuckled.
"people like y/n obviously."
the white haired male huffs out in defeat, "is it because of the weird nicknames? in my opinion, they're really cute. i mean — pumpkin, sugar bear, apple pie? you'd like to call your partner that too, right?" he babbles out, still in trance, wondering what he ever did wrong to you.
geto spared a glance at his friend, "no, that's stupid. it's pretty cringe," he honestly informed.
gojo's jaw tightened in response as he stared at his friend in betrayal, his lips parted as he wanted to deliver something — but the blue eyed male slowly shuts his mouth, pondering for a bit before delivering his comment, "okay, you're partly right. but i enjoy calling them that. they're cute, and my nicknames are cute." he pouted, his glasses slipping down a bit.
"annoyed acrylic nail? really? you can do better than that, satoru."
gojo's head snapped towards geto, "how'd you know about that one?" he narrowed his eyes.
"y/n, who else?"
"traitor. and mind you, i got that from a quiz i was playing on the internet."
geto tittered out in pure amusement, "they were just telling me about what happened," he explained, "and boy, was it interesting to say the least."
"what'd they say about me?" gojo asks, his voice soft. almost scared to question his friend, scared to hear about how you'd describe him — despite being this, "calm", "coolheaded" man he portrays, when it comes to you, it felt like judgement day.
"oh, nothing much," geto uttered out calmly, "how they can't stand you sometimes and how you maunder out the oddest nicknames on earth — oh, and how they find you physically attractive." geto finds himself whispering the last part.
geto was one to say the truth about these kind of things. except, he's now being a little cupid, alias . . . you never told geto that gojo is physically attractive. but the first two comments were the absolute truth.
"they did?" how cute.
geto nods his head mutely, "maybe you should go meet them, they were pretty intent on describing you as quote unquote, the most attractive boy they have ever met," the lie rolled over his tongue smoothly that gojo couldn't help but to grin widely.
"tell me about it, suguru. please, please?"
geto was most delighted to do so. the male enjoying this banter more than anything — if he wanted one result, it was to get you and gojo together. frankly, he finds it quite the mediocrity that you and gojo aren't in an established relationship as of now.
"they were saying how you have these pretty blue eyes that they'd love to look at every hour," geto started, "and how they actually don't mind some of your nicknames — like, sugar bear. they find it endearing."
little bastard. gojo was smiling like a fool right now, his long legs crossed happily as he sighed out in content, "i fucking knew it."
"well, what're you waiting for?"
gojo hops up, peering down at geto who was still seated, "i owe you one, suguru," geto chuckled, shaking his head.
oh, he owed me more than one. geto thinks to himself, waving his friend goodbye.
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"hey, sugar bear." gojo confidently approached you, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk on his face, "i missed you."
groaning out in response, you covered your ears with the palm of your hands; not wanting to engage in the conversation right as it started. gojo chuckles softly, circling his fingers around your wrists, pulling them away from your ears, "come on, why're you always so mean to me?"
"you get on my fucking nerves. asswipe." you muttered out, pulling your wrists away, "and don't touch me."
gojo winced, "ouch. so, heard from someone that you called me attractive, huh?" his eyebrows danced up and down in delight, as if he was mocking you.
you arched your brow in confusion, because for all you know. one, you never said that to anyone. two, even if you did find him attractive, you didn't remember ever telling that to just anyone — hell, you don't remember telling anyone about it either.
"excuse you?" gojo gave you a lop-sided grin.
"so? why're you keeping up with the attitude?" he whispers out, shaking his head.
"gojo, what the fuck? who did you hear that from?" you interrogated the male, one of your hand resting on your hips, "whoever the fuck gave you that information is making shit up — no, i don't find you attractive."
the male rolled his eyes at your stubborn demeanor. well, you weren't particularly stubborn; you were partly framed at this point since you don't remember ever saying that to anyone.
"come on, why'd you have to lie to me? it's not like 'm gonna be angry or anything," you sent a sharp glare at him, because he is wrong for saying that — you made it clear you never expressed that forbidden thought to anyone. so why was he saying this to you?
"gojo—"
"why do you call suguru by his first name but me by my surname?" gojo cuts you off.
"gojo, listen—"
before you could say anything else, the male confidently hushes you down, yet again cutting your words off. and if there's anything else you hated more than gojo satoru, it's being interrupted while you were talking.
"gojo, respectfully, shut the fuck up." you scowled at him, and that indeed managed to shut him up almost immediately — the glare you had in your eyes signifying that you were actually serious. gojo can't help but to swallow the non-existent lump in his throat at the sight.
"i never said anything about you being attractive, and whoever the fuck said that to you is a pathological liar. this is getting tiring," you slowly, and calmly tell him. way too calmly for his liking, "you're bothering me. so with all due respect, can you like . . . maybe, leave me the fuck alone and never talk to me unless it's mission related. it's fucking annoying."
gojo was silent. he was clueless of how to react, a part of him wanted to get angry, he has so much questions to ask you. but another part of him just wanted to lay down low and walk away. and gojo went after the latter.
his stomach churned as he processed your words silently, his smile dropping, and his gaze softened. the male inhaled sharply before nodding his head, "okay, sorry."
and he turned his heels, slowly walking away out of your sight — you stared at his back, watching him walk further and further.
letting a string of curses escape your lips, you felt the urge to reach out to the male. call out to his name. say you were sorry and how you didn't mean that — god, sometimes you think it was you that should respectfully shut the fuck up.
" . . . goj—" you shook your head, deciding to just stay silent for now. for now.
this wasn't the first time you've told him off; and he always comes back the next day, so gojo would probably be the same old him tomorrow, right?
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wrong.
gojo was dead set on what he was doing, avoiding you. and damn, he was pretty good at it — that it pisses you off. because why isn't he calling you those weird nicknames? why isn't he trailing after you anymore? why isn't he talking to you? why isn't he batting an eyelash at you? one week and still going strong.
"heartbreak problems?" geto appears beside you, taking a seat next to you, whistling out loudly, "over satoru? that's a first."
you wanted to retort back to the male, but honestly, there isn't any point to it. so you actually bobbed your head, "guess so," you muttered out lowly, balling your fists.
"what happened?"
his question made you side eye him, you were pretty sure gojo would've told him by now — after all, they're quite the pair at school. so this was an honest surprise, "shit happened. i said things that i obviously didn't mean, and now i'm suffering the consequences of my own actions, fairly enough, it fucking sucks."
"so, you're openly admitting to me that you do like him?" geto questioned softly, his eyes traveling to the ceiling of the classroom, "satoru? the one you shit-talk about every single day?"
you grunted, "jus' because i shit-talk him. doesn't mean i hate him," geto blinked feverishly before laughing out, "the hell are you laughing at, asswipe?"
"i told him you found him attractive. but i guess things didn't go as i expected," geto spouts out the truth, his laugh dying down slowly into a small smile, "what did'ya say to him?"
"thought you'd know by now, and that was you? fuck." you murmur out, "i told him to leave me alone and never talk to me unless it's mission related. i said it was annoying— that he was annoying."
geto hums out, "why're you always so angry towards him anyways?"
good question. why?
"that's . . . none of your concern, suguru." you ended up shutting down his question, chewing your lips in pure annoyance.
the male raises his hands up, "right. it's not mine — but it is satoru's, you should talk to him," he advices, "he's been miserable, trust me."
"he looks like he's doing fine, and doesn't he like . . . hate me?" geto raises a brow in disbelief, wondering if you were just plain dumb or too oblivious — or both. the male shakes his head, "oh. i thought he would by now."
"y'think he would do all that thing to you when he hates you?"
"well, it's him so it wouldn't be surprising. really." you chuckled out hoarsely, "and are you really giving me advice right now? because i can't fucking believe i'm actually getting an advice from you out of all people."
"that offended me." he smiled.
"well, sorry. i've never taken you for the advice giver type of person, so? is it really my fault?" you questioned, making the male roll his eyes in response.
"you have a man to chase, why are you still talking to me?"
right. you did, "bye suguru, i owe you one."
geto sighs out, remembering the same words that gojo had said to him a week before — and how the tables have turned. he was thoroughly enjoying this all.
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"gojo."
the male stopped when heard your voice. your sweet, loving voice. oh how he missed it — your voice, your glare, you. finally sparing his first glance at you after a week.
it was hard. he's miserable. he wanted to approach you, he wanted to call you the nicknames he'd searched on google before morning comes, he wanted to talk to you even if it ended up on you scolding him with very nice words, he wanted to see you. gojo just wanted to see you.
the white haired male has never felt so miserable in his life. this was the farthest he has ever been from you, and it was honestly killing him inside.
"what?" he asks, wondering if he had done yet again, something to make you approach him first like such. because one thing he was confident in is that, you, y/n l/n, would never approach him for anything besides missions or . . . anger, "what did i do wrong this time? i didn't talk to you like you told me to. so?"
"you're fucking unbearable." you muttered out, fists balling tightly — very much angry at him, and at yourself.
gojo raises a brow, "i'm unbearable? what makes you think you can come up to me and tell me that?" he asks you, his voice soft, and a ghast of his blue eyes reflecting behind the dark lenses of his glasses.
"god, i hate you so much."
no, no, no. it wasn't supposed to go this way, you weren't supposed to say that you hated him — and the way gojo furrowed his brows at your statement made your heart drop. why couldn't you just mutter out the word "sorry" and everything would be back to normal.
when people tell you that, "sorry", "thank you", and "please" are the hardest words to say. you didn't take it literally — but now that you were in a position to say one of them, you could finally agree on it. why was it so hard to mutter out a five letter word?
"okay, you made it clear last week. what else do y'want me to say?" he muffled out lightly.
"i hate you." you repeated, "so fucking much."
gojo shakes his head, prompting to ignore you. he turned his heels and began to step away from you. he didn't need anymore hurtful words from you; from someone he deeply has feelings for, "don't fucking walk away," he heard you speak.
"don't . . . walk away." your voice dropped down a tone, "please."
the male hesitated, but he stopped walking in the end. gojo had only stepped away a few times and he couldn't fucking stand it, the way you called out to him — lord, if this hasn't been so serious. he swore he would be running to you right now, how he wanted to have you in his arms right now, even if it ended up with you pushing him away. he would take the chance.
it was better than having to ignore you like this.
"what?" he breathes out again, this time a little curious to what you had to say.
you blinked, parting your lips to say something, but nothing would come out. a few seconds passed, and your lips are still parted. and you were starting to grow desperate, desperate to say something — anything at this point. anything to make the male stay, to stop him from walking away.
"y/n . . . i don't have time for this." he mutters out, trying to keep his act up, even if he was fighting back the urge to just drop everything and run to you.
"no, wait. gojo— satoru." it took one specific word to roll over your tongue, and his heart was racing rapidly. his cerulean eyes intently looking at you from behind the dark lenses, "please, i . . . i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, so please don't walk away from me. don't do that again."
gojo felt his heart began to pound. the male stood there, his breathing growing rapid, "i didn't mean what i said to you — it was my fault. i'm fucking miserable, satoru. i don't know what to do," you tell him, voice lacing in desperateness, "i fucking hate you for this. i swear to god, it's disgusting . . . the feelings. i've never felt like this before and i hate it. i think about you all damn time, i hate you because why the fuck am i feeling like this? i can't stop, satoru."
the male parted his lips to respond, but you cut him off, continuing your words. groggily fiddling with your uniform, brows furrowed, eyes glassy, you continued, "so don't fucking walk away from me. don't fucking ignore me, please."
it took gojo no time to stride over to you, "fuck. do you know how fucking miserable i was for one. whole. week? do you think i wanted to ignore you? to not look at you?" his large hands cupped both side of your face, "i was fucking miserable, y/n. i just wanted you to know how much i fucking missed you. one day," he raises up a finger, "one day felt like a whole year, i can't stand it much longer. so, please — don't push me away anymore."
you look up at him, lips slightly parted, "i hate you."
gojo tilted your face up to him, "say that again?"
his fingers traveled down, brushing the skin of your neck vividly. even with his glasses on, you could see his eyes perfectly — and how they gleamed brightly. gojo smiles lightly, using his other hand to grab your right hand, placing your palm on top of his chest. where his heart was. the constant rapid thuds that you could feel against his chest made your heart flutter.
"god, i fucking love you," he breathes out, drawing your face towards his, his lips inclining towards yours — and your mouths fell together, a few seconds passed and gojo pulled back slightly, his lips parted, "i fucking love you, y/n," he whispers softly, capturing your lips into another kiss.
the hand you had on his chest lightly crumpled against his uniform, holding the male in place as you yearned more of the taste of his lips. it was vague, but you could taste strawberries — and . . . cream cheese. pulling away, you stared at him, "dude."
gojo arches a brow, etching your fingers off of his uniform. lacing them together with his — like a perfect puzzle piece, it was like his hand was meant for yours, and yours for his, "what did you say?"
clearing your throat, you said, "dude, but romantically."
the male chuckles, "you ruined our kiss and our moment, for that?" he pressed a kiss onto the tip of your nose, maintaining eye contact, "d'you know how long i've been wanting to do that? to kiss you?"
you shook your head, "no, but did you eat something with strawberries? and cream cheese? i could taste it."
gojo blinks, "oh, yeah. i had some daifuku," he replies, scratching his nape sheepishly, "why did you have to bring that up now, couldn't it wait until later?"
"dude." he looks at you in disbelief.
"but romantically, again." you added, and gojo smiles, "i can't help it — i don't know what to say."
"i do," he pressed a kiss into the hollow of your forehead, "date me. i promise i'll treat you well. i won't call you those nicknames anymore, just — i just need you to be close to me."
"what if i said no?"
"after that kiss?" he pulls away from you.
"kidding, dude."
the male whines, "stop calling me dude," he said, "can't you call me something else? baby? honey? darling? cutie? handsome? none of that?" he asks out.
"dude is pretty romantic." you rolled your eyes, "do you ever hear me calling anyone else with dude?"
he shook his head, "you never call anyone with a nickname anyways." gojo grumbled under his breath, looking away, "fine, what do you prefer? i don't do well with — nicknames."
"i like the sound of baby, or handsome. i am handsome, right? right?" you rolled your eyes, but gave out a subtle nod, "i knew it, you did find me attractive after all."
"shut up or i'm sticking with dude."
"no," he brushes his lips against your cheek, "i'm baby now. and you — you're sugar bear, pumpkin, apple pie, annoyed acrylic nail, and more to come."
"didn't you say you won't call me those nicknames anymore?" you questioned him with a light smile.
"uh . . . no, you heard wrong."
"okay, dude." you chuckled.
"y/n!" he whines.
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tanadrin · 3 months
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I liked this video from Jamelle Bouie a lot, and I liked it even more because he delivered it as a floating eyes and mouth over an apple.
I'm going to respond to this comment as an apple because I kind of like doing it. It's fun. And I'm gonna respond to this comment by way of a story.
So, all Americans know about the anti-slavery movement, the abolitionist movement. And the way we're taught about the abolitionist movement or the anti-slavery movement, whatever you want to call it, is kind of that this was inevitable--that obviously slavery is terrible and obviously there are people against it and it was gonna end. We teach it as a thing that was bound to happen. So the Civil War comes and slavery is ended, and it's sort of a very neat story.
But I'm gonna ask you to put yourself in the perspective of an abolitionist or an anti-slavery politician in, say, 1840 or 1848; and if you are one of these people, you have a deep-seated opposition to slavery. If you're an abolitionist, you may have spent the previous 10 or 20 years traveling the country, giving speeches, rallying people, doing everything you can to stir up moral outrage at slavery. If you're a politician, you have been working, doing a grind of politics--somewhat dangerous, because people may not like slavery, but they're not super thrilled about black people either--but you are in legislatures, you are filing petitions, you are building coalitions, you are trying to make whatever headway you can to, if not challenge slavery, then at least challenge some of the racist and anti-black laws that are on the books. Both--whether you're an anti-slavery politician or ablitionist--you do not think in 1848 that slavery is gonna be over in your lifetime. You hope that it might be; but you have no particular expectation that it will be. You are not optimistic about the end of slavery. You may not even be optimistic about the world as it exists, because you look around and you see human bondage and horrible brutality that's been there for hundreds of years, and for all you know will be there when you're long dead.
So the question to ask is, why do these things? Why did these people bother? Why did they continue struggling against slavery, despite not really having any optimism about the end of the institution? And the answer--beyond a deep-seated sense of moral commitment--is that these people didn't need to be optimistic in the ultimate outcome, they just needed to be optimistic in the ability of humans, of people to make change; they needed to be hopeful about human agency. That's what they needed, and that's what they had. And so they did not know how far they would be able to take the baton, but they worked and hoped that when the end of their lives came, they'd be able to hand it off to people who could take it even further than they could.
The abolitionists and the anti-slavery politicians were essentially living out what Antonio Gramsci called the pessimism of the intellect and the optimism of the will. I think the exact quote is, "I'm a pessimist because of my intelligence, but I am an optimist because of my will." What this is is recognizing the reality of the world around you, not looking at the world as if it's any better--or any worse--but any better than it is; but not pinning your hopes for a better world on some sort of linear change, linear move towards something better; but pinning your hopes on one of the true constants of human society, which is the ability of human beings to work their will on the world, and the ability of humans to push and persevere.
So, this is all to say that I am not asking anyone to be optimistic about the world. That's very silly; the world's a very terrible place right now--not the worst it could be, but pretty bad--and I do not contest that. But I do think that people should have a bit of this optimism of the will, and this optimism about human agency, and our ability to build a better world. And this is sort of where my very strong distaste for doomerism comes from, because the sense that it is the worst, and nothing can be better, is just fundamentally incompatible with any kind of optimism of the will, any kind of belief in human agency and belief in our ability to change the world around us. And it's also why you will find me on this account often pushing back against the most negative renderings of what is happening in our society, for example. Not because I think everything is great--I do not--but because I do think that the path towards change requires one to have clear eyes about the situation in which you find yourself; and clear eyes both means recognizing the bad, but it also means recognizing those areas where you can make gains, and where you can find success; and where you can win minor victories.
And you may say, well, what's the point of a minor victory? But I think what the anti-slavery struggle demonstrates, what the civil rights struggle demonstrates, what the labor struggle demonstrates in this country, is that minor victories become fuel for modest victories, become fuel for major victories, and major victories can be the things that fundamentally change the entire field of play. So. Pessimism of the intellect, my friend, optimism of the will.
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