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denimbex1986 · 4 months

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'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”

...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.

“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”

“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?

It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.

Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.

That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.

In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.

It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?

It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.

Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?

Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.

Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?

They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.

Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?

It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]

Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?

I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.

There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?

There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.

Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?

Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.

To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.

Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.

Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.

I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?

I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.

Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?

Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.

[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]

I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…

I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”

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p1utofairy · 2 months

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PICK A CARD: “when i look into your eyes, i know it's real.”

★ which romantic tropes will you and your fp embody?

DISCLAIMER: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates leave what doesn’t. this was such a cute idea – thanks for requesting this anon. 💞 i hope you all enjoy!

— PILE ONE.

tropes → star-crossed lovers, forbidden love & opposites attract.

there’s a distinct polarity in you and your fp’s personalities & backgrounds, pile 1. you’re more reserved, cautious and patient and they’re more free-spirited and spontaneous. they say whatever they want and deal with the consequences later; this isn’t in a bad way either, i’m more so picking up that they like to stand up and fight for what’s right. they could be an activist of some sort. they’re confident and brave, and you’re really going to admire that. as far as finances go, this person has MONEY, like big money! they either come from money or they are in a profession that pays extremely well and that’s where i see the forbidden love trope coming in to play.

remember how allie in ‘the notebook’ comes from a wealthy, privileged background, while noah is portrayed as more working-class? the contrast in their backgrounds and personalities added depth to their relationship and created a lot of tension and conflict, but ultimately it made their love story more compelling and dynamic – that’s what i see here with you and your fp. you’re tired of over-working yourself for low pay and working jobs that don’t fulfill you financially, mentally and emotionally. you feel stuck…wondering when things are going to change. i see someone looking out of a window in a house, there’s a strong sense of longing and their eyes look sad. they’re waiting for someone or something to arrive, but when? you’ve been telling yourself to keep going and keep pushing through, and then you will see progress and reward in the long run – very saturn/saturnian energy.

it’s interesting because you’re looking for a way out of your situation and your person is looking for an adventure. your fp is very comfortable financially, but they’re lacking in their love life. right now they’re very much single and they’re fine with that, but that fiery energy that burns inside them can’t be dimmed for long. when they cross paths with you they’re gonna be awestruck like “whoa! who is that?” lol. your fp might have some sagittarius/fire sign placements, or they just carry themselves very pompous and matter-of-fact, which might throw you off at first. that’s why i was also picking up on that opposites attract trope because princess belle & the beast from ‘beauty and the beast’ immediately came to mind. belle loved her books and independence, which was a stark contrast with the beast’s initial gruff and hot-tempered nature. you might think they’re a bit arrogant at first, but once you get to know them you’ll understand that there’s layers to them.

their family plays a big part in their life, which ties into the forbidden love trope because i’m ngl their family lowkey can be a lot to handle. as i said before, some of your fps come from money so some of their families might be a little snooty and strict like allie’s mom from ‘the notebook’ but i think with patience and time – you and your fp will learn to not give a f*ck what their family or anybody else thinks. this relationship is destined and you’re meant to show each other the different aspects/complexities of life and love. the energy is very reminiscent of mr. darcy and elizabeth from ‘pride and prejudice’ like remember how much longing and yearning it took for them to finally be together?! it was sooooooo worth it.

additional messages → wealthy, 2 years from now, ego, aries, very lowkey, the blackest day by lana del rey & cultural differences.

— PILE TWO.

tropes → second chance & age gap.

your fp is dominant af, pile 2. they possess everything within reach, and they’re admired by many. you may establish boundaries with them from the very beginning and they will respect that, they value you and wouldn’t dare do anything to hurt you. however, despite the love, passion, and devotion that will be present in this relationship, there will also be a need for compromise. it seems that this relationship will fulfill your hopes and dreams, but it will also come with its share of responsibilities. in the early stages, both you and your fp will feel a strong urge to make your relationship official and commit to each other. whatever you need or want – they will provide for you. you may not have expected to fall for them, but you couldn’t fight the obvious chemistry between you two. i picked up on the age gap trope mainly because they have provider energy. for some of you, they might already have a kid/kids? your energy feels a little bit more flighty and young. you like to be in your own personal space most of the time, and not everyone understands that, but your fp will.

actually, i think the idea of compromise i was picking up on earlier has to do with your personal space. you might be a bit of an introvert and the idea of constantly entertaining someone 24/7 and not having a moment for yourself is a bit jarring to you. now i’m not saying this person is taking your autonomy away, what i’m saying is that there has to be some sort of balance with the give and take in this connection. it’s reminding me of olivia pope and fitz from ‘scandal’ like one minute he’s showing her the house he had built for them in vermont and then the next scene she’s crying that she needs space and they can’t be together – like OLIVIA what’s it gonna be?! it’s like your heart is saying yes but your mind is saying no.

you’re gonna have to use your discernment and figure out if this is what you want – true commitment. it’s gonna take trust and dedication to make this work, pile 2. it might get to a point where y’all take a break and you choose to see someone else, and then you realize how much of a greater difference your fp makes in your life. they’re your home. that's the second chance trope coming into play. wow, pile 2. this is a very dynamic and complex relationship, but that’s what keeps you two going and loving each other through thick and thin.

additional messages → infrunami by steve lacy, you will meet through friends, extremely dedicated, workaholic, ass kisser, there’s someone in your inner circle you need to cut off, moving abroad, younger sibling & love drought by beyoncé.

— PILE THREE.

tropes → high school sweethearts & enemies to lovers.

your fp is the life of the party, pile 3…sometimes to a fault lol. they’re capable of being responsible and making good decisions, but sometimes they just say f*ck it and wild out. they can be impulsive and unpredictable at times which is quite the opposite from you. i’m picturing haley and nathan from ‘one tree hill’ and kat and patrick from ‘10 things i hate about you’ AND no by meghan trainer just randomly started playing in my head. i’m honestly so amused by this energy cause you’re like “nope! you’re not gonna fuck my life up.” being all dramatic 🤭 and they’re like “what?! me? i would never!” lol there’s gonna be a lot of witty banter between you both. your friends are gonna encourage you to just give them a chance, cause it’s obvious that you do like them — you just can’t stand how “friendly” they are.

your fp is extroverted as hell and loves a good social outing, whereas you on the other hand, rather curl up in bed with a good book or binge-watch your favorite shows/movies in the comfort of your own home. there’s this energy of “been there, done that.” the party scene just isn’t it for you anymore, and you’re content with that. this connection will really help your fp mature and get more in tune with their emotions, instead of masking them behind reckless behavior and nonchalance. that high school sweethearts trope really comes through strongly, not in the sense that y’all are actually in high school, but that nathan & haley vibe – that puppy love! once y’all are together, nobody can tell y’all shit. you and your fp will RIDE for each other.

nathan and haley definitely had their ups and downs, but they always found a way to make it work once they put their egos aside. haley brought out a side of nathan that nobody else got to experience but her. sometimes butting heads is necessary, it helps you confront things within yourself that you don’t always want to acknowledge. you’re so nurturing pile 3, you bring water to their fire. i don’t see you immediately jumping into this relationship, but that’s the beauty of it. that’s where the enemies to lovers trope kicks in, you’ll have to warm up to them first before you truly understand who they are at the core. your fp is used to fast-pace, hot n’ heavy, fleeting relationships but this is stable. this is pure. they’ll realize you can’t rush true love like this, it’s the journey and build-up that makes it so magical.

additional messages → 1st house placements, sagittarius, very soon, get out of your head, nice and slow by usher & family feud.

— PILE FOUR.

tropes → friends to lovers & forced proximity.

your fp has very high-energy, pile 4. i feel out of breath like i just got done doing 8 different tasks at once lol they might be very athletic or they just like to keep themselves busy. you and your fp are opposites, but the more you get to know each other, you will begin to realize that you have a lot in common – i’m hearing that you two will have a lot to talk about. sometimes you might find yourself holding back from saying things that you want to say in fear of judgement but with this person that anxiety goes out the window. they want to hear your thoughts and ideas, because they truly value your wisdom and knowledge on certain topics that they might not have been aware of. i’m hearing that they want to know your lore lol this is too cute. maybe you’re really into movies? marvel? fashion? idk there’s something very specific that you could go on and on about for hours and hours.

that’s why i picked up on that friends to lovers trope because i feel like they will show immediate interest in you and want to pursue something more, but you’ll be like WOAH hold it there…let’s build on this and see where it can go, no rush. i’m ngl pile 4 they might have a bit of a reputation or vibe of being a player…which will make you hesitant as to whether or not you want to take this seriously. i don’t even think you two normally run in the same circles – this is more like a chance meeting. yup here goes that forced proximity trope, you’ll probably meet them in some sort of unconventional way and be “forced” to spend time together.

you and your fp kind of remind me of holly and eric from ‘life as we know it’ which is a very underrated but amazing rom-com. i don’t think you’ll initially hate them per se, you’ll just be a bit cautious of them and wonder if they’re actually being genuine. however, by spending time with your fp, you will develop a deeper understanding and appreciation for them; which will then lead to you falling for them and establishing a close bond. you two might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot and then after a proper conversation with them you’ll be like: huh…you’re not so bad after all. there’s this flirty energy that comes in the form of sly/sarcastic remarks, and you’ll come to realize that it’s their own way of saying “i really like you.” it’s giving 2000s rom-com lol hot n cold by katy perry just came to mind.

the sexual tension between you two will be palpable, your friends will be like just f*ck already!!! this relationship will have it’s fair share of ups and downs, but that’s what will make it worth fighting for; nothing and no one is perfect and you will learn that in this relationship. no one could ever compare to you in your fp’s eyes – they will always have love for you even in the moments where you two don’t see eye to eye. the difference in you and your fp’s personalities will be what draws you two together even more.

additional messages → jealousy, jealousy by olivia rodrigo, lots of traveling, you manifested this, different lifestyles but we’ll make it work, your angel guides got your back & when one door closes, another one opens.

#pick a card #pac #pick a pile #tarot reading #p1utofairy

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cyborg-franky · 2 months

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Please some Valentine's day dating headcanons for Law, Zoro and Kid 😍💕💘

Law x GN Reader Zoro x GN Reader Kid x GN Reader SFW

Law

He’s doing better at it.

He learned after the first time he handed you a real heart in a cube thinking it would be a sweet gesture until you fainted. Bepo had to explain why people don’t just go handing out human hearts.

Is one of those people who hate the heart shape, and can’t ever buy something for Valentine's without muttering under his breath that wasn’t what real hearts look like.

You are always surprised at how meticulous his skills with a scalpel are when he does make you a card that’s anatomically correct. It’s impressive and scary in equal measure.

Law is sweet in his own way like that. Buys you a vase that looks like a real heart and sets it on your desk with one single rose. It’s very much his brand of romance.

He’ll make the effort to look nice if you go out though, mostly. Imagine a suit covered in his jolly roger.

He gifts you a big polar bear plushie as a gift also, though he’s secretly jealous he didn’t get one for himself.

Zoro

Go easy on the boy, he doesn’t know what year, week, or day it is ever. He just got used to the seasons changing, don’t throw around concepts like dates and times.

As long as you don’t mind poking him and reminding him about Valentine's Day he’s down to do something.

Don’t let him pick the place though, or he’ll never find his way back there again and it’ll just be messy for you both.

Though getting lost on a beach with the stars high above and sand between your toes does sound nice. Maybe you guys go on a little romantic date where he’s nagged Sanji into making you both a picnic basket and you go off to get lost on the small island and have a little adventure and picnic.

He goes to carve your names on the wood of a tree because he’d seen that somewhere and ends up cutting down the entire tree.

It’s sweet enough, it’s very Zoro.

He gets you some flowers off Nami’s blooming orange tree’s and sticks them in a sake bottle filled with water. He’ll die as soon as Nami finds out but you can enjoy it while it lasts.

Kid

Totally the type of guy to rip out the heart of your enemy and present it as a gift on Valentine's Day.

Doesn’t really *get it* but he does his best, Killer helps, thankfully. He has something nice for you both, something that isn’t pasta for a start, and then leaves the rest up to Kid.

He doesn’t do cards but oh lord doesn’t he compliment you.

Can’t tell you enough how hot you are, how great you are.

He plants many messy lipstick marks along your neck and arms, not good at the soft and romantic words so he tries his best to show you in more physical ways.

Tottay makes you a keepsake rose out of metal.

It's a chance to be sweet but also to flex and impress you.

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viviennevermillion · 1 year

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Joining them in the hot springs

notes: this event is feeding my creative brain so much.

contains: character x gn!reader

characters included: leona kingscholar, kalim al-asim, vil schoenheit, lilia vanrouge

warnings: none

dark content creators and consumers do not interact

Leona is happy to get out of the car and into the relaxing hot spring; praying to the stars above that Lilia and Kalim would not make that an experience too. He had turned the radio off immediately and considered punching it for a second after his two guests and classmates had decided to sing along to the music and clap to the rhythm of the song.

“If you’re not quiet on the way back, I’m leavin’ ya here and you can walk back to the hotel”, he shot the two of them an angry glare, “annoy someone else with your singing.” You poked his side and linked your arms. “If you keep looking all grumpy like this, you’re gonna get wrinkles all over your forehead”, you teased him and he gave you a smirk back. “And you’d still love me”, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you to the secluded area only the royal family had access to. “Okay, the changing rooms for guests are over there, please don’t break anything or slip on the floor and die, we need you for the tournament tomorrow”, he sent the others off, “see ya in a couple of minutes.” The last sentence was directed specifically at you and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before parting from you.

When everyone else came out of the changing rooms, Leona was already relaxing in the hot spring. His eyes were closed and he had his hair tied up into a bun. Once you were submerged in the warm water, you marveled at your boyfriend for a while. He looked so peaceful like this. You could see ripples on the surface of the water where his tail was moving.

You smirked and decided to flick your finger on the surface of the water, sending a couple of droplets flying straight into Leona’s face. His eyes opened instantly as he reached for his magical pen at the side of the hot spring. Oh god. The last thing you saw was Leona’s mischievous grin before he sent a whole wave of water at you. “Which one of us is looking like a wet cat now, huh?”, he laughed but you weren’t giving up yet. You took both of your hands, pushing the water into his face. Leona grabbed your waist, pulling you onto his lap before he flicked his wet tail into your face gently. You shoved his tail aside.

“Argh- stop it, herbivore”, Leona growled at the sensation of you blowing cold air into his ear.

With both of you deciding that this was fun while it lasted but also that your time was better spent using the hot spring for its intended purpose, Leona pulled you very close to his chest and held you tightly against him, nuzzling your cheek affectionately. Both of you closed your eyes and Leona wrapped his tail around you. You took a deep breath, melting into Leona’s embrace as he gently ran his fingers up and down the skin of your back.

“Never thought I’d see you so affectionate and gentle with anyone”, Vil commented with a teasing smirk and Leona opened one eye to glare at him. “I can drown you in the pool and the guards will make it look like an accident”, Leona replied dryly but it was evident he wasn’t serious.

Leona indulged you as you pulled him into a loving kiss; his lips still tasting like the baobab candy he had eaten before.

He eventually fell asleep resting his chin on your shoulder or your head, mumbling a quiet “love ya, herbivore” in his sleep.

Kalim is the polar opposite of Leona when it comes to spending time in the hot springs.

He brought a floatie and pool noodles and a small radio that cost more than what you had in your bank account. “If ya play happy music here, I’m kickin' ya out”, Leona warned and Kalim put away the radio with a sad expression.

Kalim was so used to Jamil taking care of everything for him that he had a lot of trouble filling the floatie and the beach ball he had with air. “Here, let me help you with that”, you sighed and grabbed the pump, showing him how to do it. “Thank you so much, you’re the best!”, Kalim hugged you and looked at you with a bright smile before climbing back into the hot spring.

The two of you eventually ended up in a pool noodle fight together, hitting each other on the head with the foam sticks, much to everyone else’s annoyance. Kalim was laughing and eventually decided to surrender. “You’re so precious to me, I just have to let you win!”, he explained and pressed a kiss to your cheek, “I love you so much!” Kalim pulled you into another hug. “I love you more”, you insisted and gave his lips a sweet kiss. “No, I definitely love you the most-” “Would you two shut the fuck up?”, Leona groaned and held his head.

Things got even worse when Kalim decided to bring the beach ball. You had a blast for a while as you were throwing it back and forth in between you but the fun was over when Kalim aimed wrong and hit Vil in the head, knocking the cucumber slices off his eyes and smudging the beauty mask he had put on in the process.

Vil scolded Kalim and you for 2 minutes straight.

“We’re so sorry, Vil”, Kalim looked sad and you hugged him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

His mood seemed to lighten up as you pulled him close to cuddle; deciding that relaxing was also nice if you two could snuggle in the meantime.

Kalim sat down on your lap in the hot springs and just snuggled you for the rest of the stay. He talked about how this was very different from the bathhouse they had at home and everyone stared at him in bewilderment as he described the place; unaware of how he once again shocked everyone with the Asim family's amount of wealth.

"If peasantry is an emotion, I'm feeling it right now", Grim sat outside of the hot springs, "and to spend that amount of madol on a bathhouse of all things. Just imagine how many cans of tuna I could buy from this."

"I'm pretty sure for most people the intergenerational supply of tuna would be the weirder purchase...", you mused and gently massaged the back of Kalim's head with your fingertips.

"Wow, you guys were right, I'm feeling totally refreshed right now!", Kalim commented with a smile as you exited the hot springs and he picked up his stuff. He attempted to play the radio in Leona's car on the way back. This did not work out.

For Vil, this was obviously the highlight of the entire trip. The whole reason Leona had even been able to bribe him to join the 'Catch the Tail' team. He was even more delighted to spend this day with you.

Your presence made him look past even the most bothersome inconveniences, namely Kalim and Lilia improvising a punk rock version of "Absolutely Beautiful" in the car. "Let's just hope they'll be more quiet in the hot springs", the Pomefiore dorm leader sighed and you passed the water bottle you had in your backpack to him, which made Vil smile, "how is it you always seem to know exactly what I need? It even is my favorite brand of water."

"You have a favorite brand of water?", Leona raised an eyebrow and then shook his head, "...talk about unnecessary things to think about..."

Vil ignored the grumpy lion beastman.

He was by far the one who took the longest in the changing rooms. He brought a bunch of products he had bought before at Elephant Legacy and was looking forward to trying them out.

He would let you use them as well if you wanted to.

He put on a beauty mask. Vil let you massage his shoulders with some new massage oil he bought and took care of the tension in your muscles as well. "Are you enjoying yourself, my love?", he asked and you could hear the affection in his voice as his fingers massaged the skin between your shoulder blades. "Hmm", you hummed and he gave you a sweet kiss to your cheek, leaving a slight lipstick mark on your face. He'd make sure to notify you of that before leaving the hot spring.

Vil would eventually end up resting against your chest. You had your arms wrapped around him from behind and he leaned the back of his head on your shoulder. Relaxing with you was worth compromising his posture for an hour.

Lilia is thrilled and also quite curious about going to Elephant Legacy and spending time at the hot springs just to relax.

He comes out of the changing rooms wearing the vacation shirt Malleus got him from Scalding Sands, a beach hat and a pair of star-shaped sunglasses. Vil has to really bite his tongue to not comment on how Lilia's choice of outfit has hurt him in his soul. His swimming trunks are in a shade of pink that does not work at all with the orange shirt and there's a bat pattern on it.

You don't know how he did it but he enters the secluded hot spring that only members of the royal family have access to with a tray of mocktails on it. He insists that he prepared them himself and that he's "quite good at making them". Knowing his cooking skills, you're not taking any chances. The others how ever? You'll never forget the face Kalim made when he took a sip from Lilia's homemade fruity drink. "Lilia...haha...what exactly did you put in this?", Kalim asks with a forced smile. "I made them to match your personalities", Lilia claps his hands with a joyful expression, "yours, Kalim, has orange, mango, chocolate and mashed chicken nuggets in it." Kalim sighs. "Hmm, I think the chicken nuggets were a bit much..."

"The fuck's in mine?", Leona asks, not having drank even a sip from his, "it looks awfully see-through." Lilia smirked. "Water, chili powder, a lot of salt and four shots of whiskey", he explains. Leona pushes the "drink" far far away from him.

Lilia joins you in the hot springs not soon after and wraps an arm around your shoulder, letting you rest against his chest.

He starts recalling times of war when he went to the hot springs to try and rest his bones as well as clean his wounds. He gives a very detailed description of the incident and Kalim starts crying.

Lilia would give you a massage and also let you massage his shoulders. He'd spend his time with you talking about everything you've seen on your trip so far now that you have some quiet time without a new experience waiting just around the corner. It's the perfect time for him to aquire how you liked your trip so far, what were the best parts for you and tell you some stories about his travels in the past. Lilia enjoys the peaceful atmosphere the hot springs create. "It's one of the best places to talk about one's worries or simply relax", he says with a smile on his face.

Lets you wash his hair while he leans back against you with a satisfied expression. Loves the feeling of your fingers against his scalp.

"This was a truly relaxing experience", he rejoices after exiting the hot spring, holding your hand in his, "I'll remember this for a long time, my love." He gives you a kiss to the cheek.

#twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #vil schoenheit x you #vil schoenheit x reader #kalim al asim x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #leona x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #lilia x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar headcanons #leona kingscholar x you #kalim al asim #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #lilia vanrouge

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lizardlicks · 4 months

Text

Momo surprise

“I’m a little worried about Momo,” Aang said to his friends as they gathered around the morning campfire and started preparing for their day. “He’s been acting kind of off lately.”

The lemur in question was fussily nosing around Aang's abandoned bedroll in tight circles. As the group of teens watched, he laid down in a curl, chirped unhappily then got up and resumed tugging and scratching at the bedding. “How can you tell?” Sokka asked. He was by no means a lemur behavior expert. To him all of Momo’s actions were strange. It was possible that Aang's Avatar-ness gave him some kind of spirit connection to flying lemurs. Unlikely, but still possible.

“He doesn’t have as much energy, even though he’s sleeping more.” Aang explained, frowning. “You don’t think he’s sick, do you?”

“Maybe it’s the climate?” Katara offered helpfully. She wasn’t a lemur expert either, but she and Sokka had struggled the first few weeks with adjusting to the Earth Kingdom’s warmer weather. As far as she or anybody else knew, Momo has lived his entire life in the towering, windswept peaks around the Southern Air Temple, so maybe the sudden change had affected him too, she reasoned.

“It’s because you’ve been giving him too many treats,” Sokka told Aang matter-of-factly. Lemurs were outside of his wheelhouse, but he'd helped the older boys with conditioning the polar dogs for sled pulling every fall. Spoiled pups turned lazy and fat, a hard lesson to learn for the littler children who only wanted to express their love.

“You think so?” Aang looked contrite.

“Yup,” Sokka said as he reached to snag a piece of star berry off the board Katara was using to prepare their breakfast. He snatched his hand back with a squawk when she smacked him.

“He is looking a little pudgy, Aang,” Katara said without taking her eyes off the food. Poaching brothers were too wily to be given that kind of an opening.

“Monkey feathers. I just can’t resist him when he gives me The Eyes.”

“I know,” Katara agreed. “He’s weaponized his cuteness.” “You’re going to have to.” Sokka nimbly dodged a sister elbow, but he still didn’t quite manage to snag any tidbits from Katara’s pile of fruit. “It’s for his own good.”

Momo, apparently noticing he was being talked about, finally abandoned the bedding to perch on Katara’s knee. “No, bad lemur!” She snatched her cutting board up and held it over her head. “No more extras for you!”

Sokka whooped in victory as he snagged a slice of moon peach and popped it into his mouth before Katara could adjust her defenses. “You’re on a diet, mister,” he informed the lemur as he sucked the juice from his fingers.

Momo chittered and pinned his ears back.

“Sorry, buddy,” Aang said regretfully as he scooped Momo up and tucked him into the crook of his elbow. “I already gave you a big handful of lychee nuts when you woke me up, you’re gonna have to wait until lunch time for more food.”

Aang could never quite tell just how much human speech Momo understood, but the lemur appeared to grasp something about the situation. He curled his tail around and grasped it anxiously, cooing at Aang with all the force of The Eyes that one tiny flying mammal could muster.

Aang held strong. For all of three seconds. “Okay... well. Maybe a couple berries wouldn’t hurt?”

--------

“AAAAAANG!”

The young monk bolted upright in his bedroll at the sound of his name, startled out of a sound sleep. Sokka was loud. Loud and very upset.

“What!? What is it?” He blinked several times, then rubbed at his face, trying to get his eyes to focus on anything distinct before he realized the reason he couldn't see anything was because dawn was still hours away. The moon hung in the sky, a crescent barely thicker than a thumbnail, with no light to offer. Hedgegoosebumps broke out across his arms. Aang hugged himself as the night pressed in, suddenly no longer a sheltering veil, but full of hidden threat from enemies he couldn’t see.

The sleeping lump to his right rustled and shifted as Katara sat up in her bed roll. “Sokka-haaah,” her voice stuttered, breaking off with a yawn. “What's wrong?”

“What's wrong? What’s wrong!?” Sokka was rapidly climbing in pitch with each repetition. “Why don’t you look at this situation and tell me, huh?”

“Uhh.” Aang squinted into the dark and tried to make sense of their camp. Appa was still peacefully snoring several yards away, completely oblivious to the sudden chaos. Katara was wiggling and shuffling her way out of her sleeping bag, growling unflattering things at Sokka under her breath, and Sokka. Sokka was standing in the middle of their sleeping circle. He looked like he was holding something, but Aang could not for the life of him see what it was.

“We can't see anything without light, Sokka,” Katara groused. She finally won her struggle with her sleeping roll and started patting around for her bag. “You couldn't have lit a fire before you started yelling loud enough to alert the Fire Lord himself?”

“Oh, gee, why didn't I think of that! Could it possibly be because I'm dealing with Aang's mess over here!?”

Aang didn't remember leaving a mess. In fact he'd been careful to pack up everything before turning in for the night just in case they had to make a quick getaway. A few too many lost supplies had trained him quickly.

“What are you talking about?” He asked while stretching, less alarmed now that he knew Sokka was just. Well, being Sokka. They weren't being attacked, there was no life or death situation he had to fight through in the pitch dark.

Katara, having retrieved some kindling from her pack, scooted over to their banked campfire and began to poke the coals awake. She had apparently given up any hope of going back to sleep until her brother was sorted out. Even Appa was starting to rumble awake with the commotion.

“You said Momo was a boy!” Sokka hissed.

Aang. Blinked. “Yeah?” he said, uncertainty clouding his mind. He must still be dreaming, why would Sokka wake up the whole camp to debate their pet’s gender?

“Then explain this!” Sokka shoved his cupped hands out, away from the protective shield of his body, just as the fire flared with a pop and Katara's satisfied grunt.

Cradled in between his palms, fur still sodden and sticking, was the teeniest, tiniest lemur Aang had ever seen.

#sokka #aang #katara #momo #the gaang #minific #atla fanfic #atla #avatar the last airbender #lizard writes stupid things

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ancientgoddessofegypt · 1 year

Text

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS - FIRST HOUSERS!

Sun first house - Big large auras !!!! They shine the light on the darkness around them so they can be a bit polarizing with this placement. They don’t mean to however they have no choice but to allow their auras to show what is underneath the surface. With this placement, it’s hard for them to truly hide themselves because their energy is vibrant and they can also be very transparent here. First house sun holders can be popular and can attract people like bees are attracted to honey. Their warmth is noticed and this what Allures people to them. It’s hard to truly ignore them or even dislike them because who they are is attractive and charismatic. Influencers can have this placement. You can stop people in their tracks and make them pay attention to you. A lotta love for this placement !

Pluto 1st house individuals will have people critic their appearances due to their alluring auras intimating people. So the only way to attack them is to make them believe they are ugly or undesirable but truly it’s never the case. Oddly triggering, however it’s for the greater good of who they come in close contact with, wether they like it or not.

Mars 1st House individuals could have aggressive encounters with people due to their energy having this strong star effect to them. Like the best way to explain their appearance is like that of a bold shining star. On top of that their mannerisms are very striking. So it can throw somebody off just by looking at them, triggering people as they move authentically.

Neptune 1st housers mimic the energy/frequency around them so they are always shapeshifting. Cosmos star children can look like anything they want.. creative personalities, their imagination can make them look like an art fixture. Can create their own look and be a muse for other people to mimic. Funny how they can absorb the frequency around them, allowing others to feed off of this n turn them into a powerful muse.

Moon 1st housers are very calming, naturally approachable, n draw you in with their lovable vibration. They have the ability to discern you, most likely won’t use it because they see the good in people. Being picky with who they let in is something their good at, because anything else leads to burn out. Evolved moon first housers can radiate a powerful energy coming from their auras like they’re the moon themselves. Attracting the bees as if their honey, they can also attract flies. Their nurturing allure keeps others wanting more, however they should give it to a lucky person. This is so they can achieve balance, give&take is vital for them and must be mutual.

Venus 1st house love to be loved. I mean, doesn’t anyone ? However, these individuals need it, crave it, it’s for their life & souls purpose. The value of being loved n connected to all is something their hearts truly desire more than anyone & anything else. Connected to the mother & love frequency a lot more than others so their magnetism is relatively stronger than most, popular with others due to their auras drawing you in closer, so you can be more connected to the god/goddess frequency of love.

Jupiter First housers have this larger than life persona that you cannot easily escape from. Their energy will consume the entire room due to their magnetism expanding over time. It never inflattens, just gets bigger the more they live authentically. Can attract their desires the more they continue to live with faith and optimism. Easy to like These individuals no matter who they are and what they do, and this can be a problem if they are ‘bad’ people and use others. Likeable auras who are popular with the collective and their community. Can become the leader of organizations or simply be a beacon for those who need it thus being inspirational to all who come in contact with them.

Uranus First Housers erratic, striking personalities but light years away from the world and what is currently going on around them. Don’t fret, your about 20 years smarter and more aware than the people you come across and are constantly leading the way as i type this. Your strange but in the best way, you know that the social beliefs and personas around everyone is a mask and the only mask you where is the one you created as a cool look to walk around in. The people around you adore you but are actually pretty intimated by you. Aliens from another galaxy, you’re here to lead us the way.

Saturn First Housers are interesting and learn a lot as they grow. Teachers before anyone could teach them, the lessons they over come gives them wisdom that goes beyond their years. Great listeners and are very charming. No one truly sees their authentic selves because it’s been postered with other peoples perceptions of who they THINK they are or CAN be when truly they are so much more than the surface level thinking that they come across. Can read you like a book, while gracefully accepting that we are all flawed but how we make of it is what matters. That’s the lesson. Mature levels can be profound with them, as they kinda don’t have a choice in this matter, it struck them before they could even say their first word.

Mercury 1st Housers are charismatic to the core and read the room insanely well. Comedians, alluring and masked magicians, their personalities are complex and this keeps the crowd wondering who they truly are from the core. You could say their mysteriously but that doesn’t quite explain them as they pull out all the tricks out of their wonderful top hat and continue to play with the hearts and emotions of people just because their charisma is great at this. Gift of gab, highly influencing and can persuade you to do just about anything with their words as theirs a certain majesty to their wordplay. Very odd creatures with their whimsical nature :)

#astrology #Pluto 1st house #astrology theories #astrology observations #first house

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kekaki-cupcakes · 6 months

Note

hello, are you still doing requests?

if so, could i have some sibling headcanons of nico with a hades kiddo that's really peppy and into colorful things and people find it hard to believe they're siblings at first because their personalities are polar opposites of each other?

thankyou!

Heya, I'm still doing requests but I have so many so it might take a while to get an answer, feel free to request something else though! This kind of went off track but oh well <3

Don't take it to heart---Nico/opposite aesthetics sibling!reader

»»————-　★　————-««

-The minute you skipped up to the porch of the Hades Cabin with your stripey rainbow leg warmers and a tote bag with a stupid pun about a show with something called ‘carebears’, Nico winced.

-He’d need sunglasses if he had to keep looking at you, but he didn’t really want to borrow the big yellow star ones on the end of your nose, so maybe that was a bad idea. Your first interaction went a bit like this:

You: “Heya, you're the emo kid, right? I’m new! So, where’s our cabin?”

Nico: “Uh… you're supposed to go that way.”

You: “No, that’s the Iris cabin, at least that’s what Chiron said. I’m your new sibling, by the way. Chiron said we have one in Rome too!

Nico: I- well, yes, I- we do.

You: Are they as grumpy looking as you?

-Needless to say you got off to a great start. Nico proceeded to dump your bags on one of the beds, which has a zebra print doona matching one of your headbands, and then left immediately. You shrugged it off, obviously, and started stacking your things on the coffin shaped bookshelves. You ignored the candle that was supposed to smell like ‘the souls of the damned’, and put your own flowery one next to it.

-You found out you loved arts and crafts, where you made friendship bracelets with Lacy, as well as pegasi riding. You saw Nico once, and he waved awkwardly, but went back to the small child he was glaring at quickly. You quickly became attached to a creamy coloured mare called macaroni as well, but Butch wouldn’t let her sleep in your cabin. He did take a friendship bracelet, though. And he let you weave daisy chains into macaroni’s mane and tail, so you liked him.

-You had brought a musty old record player with you after finding out that there was no wifi, but you had to pause ‘Washing Machine Heart’ [by Mitski, of course] when Nico came trudging into the now bright cabin. You’d opened all the curtains and taken the spiders that fell from them outside, dumping them in the bushes behind the Athena cabin.

-Nico stared at the squishmellows on your bed and then the dreamcatcher by one of the windows, and the row of brightly coloured converse with striped laces lined up by his three different pairs of black Doc Martens.

-He shrugged his jacket off and went straight into the bathroom, leaving a little trail of muddy footsteps along the heart shaped rug you’d put down.

-He was just adjusting to a roommate, you told yourself. It wasn’t anything to do with you personally. You hadn’t done anything wrong, maybe you should just give him a bit of space. That was a good idea. Leave him alone for a bit until he was used to you, and don’t take it to heart.

»»————-　★　————-««

-You took it to heart.

»»————-　★　————-««

-Months had passed, and you were thankful for the Ipad Piper [she was so nice, and she let you borrow her Olivia Rodrigo records] lent you so you could facetime the family and friends you had left behind occasionally. They had seemed to adjust to you not being there anymore, now that you knew you were a child of Hades, the outside world was too dangerous to risk. You tried not to take that to heart either.

-Macaroni was getting used to the beaded bridle you’d made her, but you were still training her to get used to flying around while you used your new weapons.

-Nyssa had helped you make them, able to actually craft a design after glancing at you scribbled drawing with glitter gel pens that you really had worked hard on. Now you had a sparkly belt with three attachments, that you could click in your spray cans too. The cans were filled with different coloured paint, only the base liquid was melted down celestial bronze flakes, so when you fought a monster, which you were still learning to do, it would seep into their eyes and turn them blind, or crack through their skin and dissolve them. You loved the spray cans.

-Drew had warmed up to you as well, and you were even invited to Barbie premier night in Cabin ten. You got to wear your sparkly leg warmers and the cropped leather jacket in a light shade of pink.

-You were making your way to the arts and crafts center with a box of clay and little paint brushes in your arms to run the pottery class [you’d been elected as head of arts and crafts pretty quickly, shared with Elsa, one of the Athena kids who specialize in weaving and sewed the cutest pajama pants] when you bumped into Nico.

-Literally.

-The box may have been a few heads taller than you, so it wasn’t really your fault, but Nico still snapped at you.

-You gathered up the little tubs of paint from the grass and apologized quickly, your chest tight with anxiety. You hurried away after that, ignoring your brother as he tried to explain he hadn’t realized it was you when he hissed curse words Drew had started teaching Harley and Lacy.

-The class went well, the scrunchies Elsa was making her girlfriend for her birthday went along well, and a few more kids than usual showed up, taking lumps of clay from the tray and working it into figures on their tables. You were making beads that you’d string onto a bracelet for Nyssa, because she always broke the plastic ones with hammers and drills accidentally.

-You thought back to your interaction with Nico and regretted it dearly. Maybe if you’d just heard him out or even apologized and blamed yourself, he might’ve come to your class to see your works, or sat with you at dinner, or even just waved from across the infirmary when you went to get panadol for your headaches.

-You knew you got them from straining your eyes to read and draw in the dim cabin, but whenever you opened the curtains or switched on your blue lamp with a cloudy pattern that you hadn’t got to use yet, Nico cleared out completely.

-It wasn’t your fault, you reminded yourself, you were just… too different.

-People started filing out after putting their creations to the side, you complimented each of their idea’s even though you felt like getting some Ben and Jerry’s from the camp shop and curling up in bed to watch ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ again.

-The beads for Nyssa were nearly done, so you went to find a container to pop them in.

-When you got back, they had been ground into the bench until the delicate tracing of different things Nyssa likes were just shapeless brown blobs. An Ares kid, Grey, was standing with their arms crossed and a smirk on their face, which was mostly obscured by a nose that had been broken too many times.

-You stared down at the squashed clay and felt your eyes prickle with tears.

-Grey jeered at you, calling you things you’d rather not hear again, because they only made the tears fall. You rubbed your nose and smoothed the front of your tye-dyed camp shirt flat. Grey called after you, something about being a ‘rainbow prissy’. You stumbled out of the center.

-Nico wasn’t in your cabin when you slammed the door behind you, thankfully, and you hopped into bed, kicking your yellow converse off and pulling the doona over your head so you didn’t have to look at the skull filled walls around you.

-It was so dark, it was so dark and shadowy and there were bones you were too scared to ask about their origins lining the mirror in the bathroom you kept seeing things behind you in. Your crocheted blanket that used to sit across the black doona cover had been folded up a while ago and placed back in your suitcase, along with a few of the more multicolored posters and the fruity scented candles that seemed to annoy your half brother.

-You rubbed your eyes with your sleeves and held your hand over your mouth so Nico wouldn’t hear crying when he would eventually come back a few hours later, late enough that you could pretend to be asleep.

»»————-　★　————-««

-The infirmary was busy with bleeding and laughing demigods when you wandered in looking for some panadol. Your headache was making it hard to think straight, but whenever you cried too much you got one, so you knew what to do by now.

-Will waved from over from where he was pulling a ruler, a stapler, and a glue stick out of the stomach of an Iris kid who was giggling the entire time, coughing up glitter. He grimaced when a chunk of glue hit his face. You waved back and turned the corner, heading to the rooms at the back where Austin would be. He usually had the panadol.

-Someone groaned in the corner, and you spotted Grey.

-They looked like a soggy bag of a human, their mauled nose the only definable shape. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from the grotesque demigod blob.

-Austin shuffled up behind you with a grimace, passing over a few pills and a glass of water without looking away. You gulped them down quickly as Grey let out another moan and rolled a bit on their hospital bed. Austin told you that he’d been spotted on the floor of the Arts and crafts center.

-Apparently, every few minutes one of his bones would disappear.

-It was only a few fingers at the start, then most of his ribs couldn’t be found and there was something wrong with his mouth, which Austin found out meant his jaw had decided to not be there.

-A screechy sound came from the front of the infirmary, and you both looked to the door, which Clarrise was dragging Nico through, holding him up by the back of his jacket. He pummeled at the chunky daughter of Ares, but couldn’t get out of her grip. Clarrise glared around at the staring demigods and snarled, “why is this little shit de-boning Grey?”

-You didn’t know who yelled ‘that’s what she said’ from across the room.

-”Because they deserve it.” Nico hissed a bit like a cat, glaring up at Clarisse with narrowed brown eyes underneath his floppy hair.

-Will ran up to the pair, brushing glitter off his gloved hands onto his scrubs instead. He folded his arms and stared Clarrise down until she finally let go of Nico, who dropped to the ground and then sprung back up, wrinkling his nose at the daughter of Ares, who just stuck her tongue back out at him.

-Will pinched his nose, “Clarisse, more people come in here because of you then Nico, so you don’t get to talk. Nico, just fix them, they’re too annoying to be kept in here.”

-”But people deserved to be punched by me,” Clarrise argued with a scoff.

-”And Grey deserves to lose their bones!” Nico shot back, glaring up at Clarisse and balling his fists, “they stepped on my siblings clay stuff!”

»»————-　★　————-««

-You yawned and stretched your arms out above your head, then blinked up at the roof with bleary eyes. The skulls were gone, now it was just black concrete. You rolled over a moment later and stuffed your head back into your pillow, pulling your crocheted blanket back over your head.

-There was a ‘shing’ sound as curtains were yanked open, and you just sunk further into your comfy bed, ignoring the bright beams of early morning sunshine that streamed in and lit up the dark cabin. It made the rainbow rug in the center of the cabin even brighter, and you groaned loudly in protest. “Whaddaya even doing up so early? Go back to bed you vampire!”

-”It’s only six am?”

-”You’re more of a psychopath then I thought before,” you muttered, but made sure you were loud enough that your brother could hear you as he padded round the cabin getting changed and ready for his much too early start to the day.

-Nico huffed and the bathroom door shut as he completely ignored the hairbrush you’d given him to passive aggressively deal with his scruffy black hair. “Leo forgot the code to the safe in the big house that he changed when he was hiding those icey poles from Piper.”

-”And how are you supposed to help him remember?”

-Nico’s boots were loud on the floorboards as he trotted over. He kissed you on the forehead gently, “oh I’m not, I’m gonna go watch him suffer the consequences with Jason.”

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #heroes of olympus #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #nico di angelo #nico di angelo x sibling reader #nico di angelo reader #child of hades reader #child of hades #hades cabin #Jasico #Jason grace #jasongrace #Will solace #clarrise la rue

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jadedrrose · 9 months

Note

3, but law is proposing to his fem!reader.

But like-- it's so cute. Cause no one would expect LAW of all people, to ask his female s/o into a commitment he knew might endanger her, but still... He wanted the moment to last forever and tie the knot, since, well... He lost his family and his adoptive dad (I head cannon corazon as Law's adoptive dad lol) so he wouldn't want to ask too late or not ask at all right?

“Stay With Me Forever?”

This one’s a lil bit shorter but it’s SO DAMN CUTE. I promise. You’ll love it 👀

Warnings: fem reader, pure fluff

It was one of those nights where time seemed to stand still- peaceful, and overall comforting. The seas were calm, no enemy ships in sight, allowing the Polar Tang to idly float above water as the entire crew got to relax on the deck. The skies were clear, allowing the stars to illuminate the dark sky for you, a galaxy of little twinkling lights shining bright.

While your crewmates and close friends stayed at the front of the ship, drinking and having fun with each other, you and your lover found a quiet place to go; something you knew he’d enjoy much more.

Law’s back was pressed against the yellow walls of the ship’s entryway, his legs spread on the floor so that you could sit between them. One of his hands was wrapped around to gently hold you, his thumb occasionally rubbing comfortingly against the soft skin of your lower abdomen. His right hand was laid out on the wooden deck’s floor, with your hand right on top, fingers halfway interlaced.

You leaned back into him, quietly watching the stars above you as his chin rested on your head, doing the same as you. The moment was too perfect; you and Law relaxing under the stars, spending your evening as two lovers sneaking away from the others to simply cuddle while stargazing. And as you were doing so, something appeared before you that prompted you to turn to Law with delight.

“Did you see that?!” You asked, eyes twinkling as you grinned. “A shooting star, Law!”

“I did,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “why don’t you make a wish?”

“Hmm. Okay, I wish to be your-“

“Shh- Y/n, you know you’re not supposed to say it out loud,” he scolded you, and you laughed at his occasional childish behavior. A side of him you loved to see.

You nodded, relaxing against him once again before laying your head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his lean frame. “I think you knew what I was gonna say anyway,” you giggled, breath warm against his neck.

His breath hitched, and you weren’t sure if it was from your statement or the feeling of your breathing tickling him. Either way, it prompted you to lightly giggle again.

“Y-yeah,” he started to say. But then he paused, and his tone indicated that he was hesitant.

“Yeah what?” You pry, wanting to know what was on your lover’s mind.

“I- I knew what you were gonna say,” he answered, leaning his head into yours. He kept still for a moment, before moving away. As you slipped out of his lap, Law stood up behind you, so you turned to look up at him.

There was a look on his face that meant he wanted to say something, but was unsure about how to go about saying it. You raised an eyebrow, curious about what he was thinking. Law reached downward and held his hands out for you, which you gladly grabbed onto. As he took your hands into his tattooed ones, he raised you up from the ground slowly, like the way a prince would do so for his princess in a fairytale.

He continued to hold onto your hands when you finally stood up against him, smiling at him to try and let him know you wanted to hear more. His eyes couldn’t meet yours, but you knew he was just nervous.

“Y/n, I-“ he hesitated again, swallowing thickly, “will you- uh,” he trailed off, biting his lip.

“Hm? What is it, Law?”

“Stay with me forever?” He finally got the words out, quickly spilling from his lips as he stumbled through them. But he sounded sincere.

“Of course I’ll stay with you forever,” you raised your head to meet his, placing a firm kiss against his lips. “Is that all?”

“N-no, y/n. What I mean is… uh, forever as in, getting married.”

Your eyes then widened, a gasp falling from your lips as you stared at him in shock. “Are you sure? I thought you didn’t-“

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently,” he began to explain, looking directly at you now, “I really want you to be my wife. At first I was afraid because it’d put you in more danger, and I didn’t want to lose you like I lost my family. But I’ve changed my mind. I wanted to ask you now, before it’s too late.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes, and all you could do was press your face into his chest, overcome with so much joy you didn’t know what to do. “Law…”

“You’re the only woman I’ll ever want, there’s so many things I thought I’d never experience or long for until I met you. I just want a life with you, forever.” He finished, his words being slightly muffled as he talked into your hair. “Also, I uh- I don’t have a ring yet,” he added, voice awkward now.

“Yes, Law,” you cried, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. “Fuck, I’ve been waiting so long for you to ask. Please marry me, make me your wife.”

Law smiled into your hair as you continued to cling onto him, and he held you for what felt like hours.

He placed one last kiss onto your head, feeling the most hopeful Law had ever felt in a long time. You were his hope, his bright, shining star that illuminated the dark sky. And soon you’d be his wife.

#trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law x you #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x you #law x you #law x y/n #law x female reader #one piece x reader #one piece x female reader

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stllite · 1 year

Text

3am •°ˎˊ˗

chishiya shuntaro x gn!reader

word count 2.6k

summary 3am brings out the most vulnerable and real version of ourselves. on this particular night, you and chishiya unravel those parts of each other.

warnings mentions of parental issues, angsty, non borderland au

authors note had this idea after listening to my 3am playlist. i cant get chishiya/nijiro out of my mind fr. hope you guys enjoy this fic!

most of the world was asleep. the only light shining outside was from the moon, the stars, and some streets. slight, but there nevertheless.

in your case however, your desk and laptop screen also shining light. an unnatural and annoying light that was beginning to give you a headache.

it was about two-fifty in the morning — close to three. you and chishiya, who you’d consider a good friend in uni, were studying for your upcoming mid-term since the both of you were pre-med students.

it’s safe to say, you were stressed out. the topic you’d been learning looking like a completely different language the more you looked and attempted to learn it.

you huffed frustratingly, beginning to write in your notebook harshly and quickly. chishiya turned his attention from the textbook in front of him to you as you were making a lot of noises suggesting your stress.

“everything alright?”

at this point, chishiya was already prepared and confident for the exam. he stood by you however, because it seemed like you needed the company.

and the help.

you continued your harsh writing. “yeah, I’m fine.”

he shrugged, continuing back to his book and left you to your studying. or stabbing of your poor notebook.

your thoughts were everywhere else except where they really needed to be, going a million hours at once. the stress of this exam, intrusive thoughts of just quitting starting to enter your brain, and a random song in the background, banging in your head at once. you were tired.

maybe this is why i’m not processing all this information, you thought.

at that point, you about had it.

you turned off your desk light while standing up from your chair suddenly and made your way out of your room, chishiya’s eyebrows raising at your actions. he sighed, then followed you out.

when he made it to where you were, he saw you leaning against your kitchen counter with your head down in front of your coffee machine. the sound of it in the midst of pouring your third cup for the night, echoing throughout the silent apartment walls.

he stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do. hell, he didn’t know how to comfort anyone. weirdly, he wanted to comfort you.

you were always so bubbly — shy and introverted but outgoing when he got to know you. you cared a lot. probably too much for chishiya’s liking. you two were polar opposites but he didn’t mind. maybe, the universe put you two together for this sole reason.

“y/n?”

you picked up your head and stood up regularly, turning your body towards him. you didn’t say anything. you just looked at him blankly.

“too much coffee isn’t good for you.” he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall behind him and continued. “you should know that, you’re a med student.”

it sounded much harsher than what he had originally in his mind. but that was chishiya’s way of showing that he…cared?

you huffed. “god, chishiya. i don’t need your input. i just need to pass this goddamn exam and coffee is going to help. you’re already going to pass so i don’t know why you care.”

he just stared at you as you turned back around and poured your coffee into your hello kitty mug, reminding him of the time you FaceTimed him when you got the mug. you were so excited and happy over something that seemed so silly.

but that’s just how you were. though, he always felt like there was a part of you that he had not seen just yet. he read people scarily well and…he would know.

you breezed passed him and back into your room, cranking your music up. the aroma of your scent lingering until he followed you back in.

you were sitting on your window sill filled with all your plushies and other pillows with your textbook on your lap, flipping through the pages and sipping your coffee.

he sat across from you and looked out the view from your window. you didn’t look up from your book once.

one thing he loved about coming over to yours was the view you had. the beautiful sight of the city that the moonlight was shining upon. your music in the background making the view ethereal. it was peaceful. like a pause from the chaotic world.

his thoughts were interrupted by you flipping the page of your textbook harshly. taking yet another sip of your coffee while your eyes scanned the information.

he turned to you and kept his gaze there. despite the frustration written all over your face, you were shining against the moonlight. your soft features illuminating against it, like the moon was focusing on only you in that moment.

examining your face more, he saw tears starting to pool up in your eyes. the facade you were trying so hard to put up, finally fading away.

he paused. his attempt on comforting you earlier had failed miserably. now you were crying?

he shifted in his seat and looked back out the window, pretending not to notice. he felt uncomfortable. he didn’t know what to do. he was used to keeping his emotions inside at all times. he assumed the same for you. but now, it seems those bottled up emotions were pouring out of you and even though you didn’t want it, you let it.

he heard you sniffle, his eyes returning back to your face. you quickly wiped your tears and closed your textbook, throwing it on the ground next to you whilst placing your coffee gently atop of it.

you pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, looking out the window to the view. tears were still spilling out and now you weren’t wiping them away. you were letting your tears fall into the night. but despite your built up emotions spilling out, your face remained still and blank. your tears just grazing on top of it.

“i have a feeling this is more then the mid-term that’s on your mind,” chishiya said, breaking the silence.

you didn’t say anything for a moment, your eyes still on the view of the quiet night. you let his words sit with you because he was right. and you hated how well he could read people — especially you.

you let out a breath before speaking. “it’s not like you would care.”

you knew chishiya wasn’t the type of person to express his feelings. so why would he listen to you express yours? regardless, he surprised you with his next choice of words. “try me.”

those words had you finally looking away from the view and to him, his gaze looking at you intently. inviting you, daring you to give him a chance.

“it’s a lot,” you started, gaze looking back out the window. you let out a soft chuckle. “i’m a mess.”

you felt him scoot closer to you, his eyes burning through you to get something, anything out of you. you felt that this was his way of letting you know that he was here to listen — something you weren’t used to.

finally, you let the words fall out of your mouth.

“i don’t want to be a fucking doctor.”

the words that were engraved in your brain since the minute you started uni was finally out into the night. for only you and chishiya to hear. and now, you felt somewhat free.

you looked back at him, his eyebrows having a slight furrow to them, expressing to continue your thought. “this is not my dream. to be honest, i’m really doing this for my mother.” you spoke your next sentence quieter, practically whispering. “because she wasn’t able to because of me.”

“what do you mean?”

you bit the inside of your cheek before continuing. “she was my age when she met my dad, so close to getting into her dream university because she took a gap year.”

he scanned your face, tears still spilling but your face still remaining blank.

“she was in love with him. and well, long story short, she got pregnant with me and couldn’t follow her dreams of becoming a doctor. so that’s why i’m doing what i’m doing. but it’s not what i want.”

he pursed his lips. “you shouldn’t let her be the reason to not enjoy your life.”

“but i love her. she’s been through hell for me. and i feel like it’s my fault she never got to follow her dream.”

“it’s not though.”

“but it’s the least i could do.”

he took his eyes off of you, returning his eyes to the window. he remained quiet for a moment which only built your nerves more. maybe, you shouldn’t have said anything? maybe you should of just kept on pretending. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke. “can i tell you something?”

you hummed in response, starting to feel more at ease.

“i don’t want to be a doctor either.”

chishiya didn’t know why he decided to tell you something that was so vulnerable to him. he spent years trying to dig it so deep in his brain that he would eventually forget it. but after admitting those words aloud, he realized he was simply putting up a facade. just like you.

“for similar reasons as you. except, my father never really was there for me nor showed he cared,” he shrugged.

he guessed that telling you this unexpectedly was because he felt you. and weirdly, he felt bad for you. you cared so much that you’re doing something that doesn’t make you happy. you didn’t deserve that.

“wow,” you replied. “i didn’t know that. i’m sorry.”

he looked at you, seeing your blank expression turn into concern. you really did care a lot about others. he was surprisingly glad he was one of them. at the same time however, he didn’t deserve someone like you to care for someone like him. “don’t be. i’m fine.”

his blunt expression grew more concern for you. you weren’t sure how he would respond if you kept prodding. but you did so nevertheless. “are you sure?”

he sighed. he wasn’t sure how to answer this. no one had ever asked. “i’m doing what i can.”

you gave him a slight smile. “i think we all are. sometimes, that’s the best we could do.”

he smirked back, looking at the view once more causing you to do the same. no matter what, you two always returned your eyes to it. you both never seemed to get tired of the sight.

“what is your dream?” he asked.

you smiled, despite all the emotions you were truly feeling. no one had ever asked you that before. no one ever cared to ask. “i want to be a writer.”

“really?”

“yeah. it’s like my escape,” you leaned a bit closer to the window before continuing. “no one has ever really listened to me or know the real me. they never really cared to. but writing — it’s a way i get to express the real me. and the ideas in my head.”

he looked over at you once more. your eyes were glistening with passion. something he never saw from you. it made him smile a bit. he silently hoped that you would be able to follow your dream. it seemed like something you truly adored.

“what about you?” you asked, meeting his gaze.

he snickered. “never really thought about that.”

you simply nodded.

“maybe travel the world. there’s so many places i haven’t seen yet. i would like to see all of them if i could.”

you gasped suddenly, causing chishiya to jump from your abrupt action. “i have an idea!”

he raised his eyebrows.

“when we graduate, we should take a trip! we could go anywhere you’d like.”

“with what money?”

“we’ll save up. if not, we’ll wing it.”

he chuckled at your comment. smirking, he nodded an agreement. “sounds like a plan.”

you smiled back at him. “any particular place you have in mind?”

he thought for a moment before answering. “Switzerland. i don’t know, that place looks unreal from what i’ve seen in photos. it’s definitely on my bucket list.”

“then Switzerland is where we’ll go.”

he smiled at you. a genuine smile. it was small. so small that any other person wouldn’t have realized it. but you — you noticed.

“you know,” you started, turning your attention back to the night. “nighttime has always been my favorite.”

he tilted his head, urging for you to carry on.

“not only is the world quiet from all the chaos, but you see people’s authentic selves. during the day, you put up this mask so people don’t see the real you. cause you’re scared that if they see the real you, they’ll run off. and the world is so loud that sometimes you wish you could just take a pause from all of it. nighttime, is like that pause. with the world quiet and the moonlight shining on the world lightly, its peaceful and inviting. that’s when people take off that mask of theirs and are comfortable with their vulnerable and real selves. and whoever you’re with in that moment to share your vulnerability with, its true and authentic. not something you put up to protect yourself.”

after a moment, you looked over at him, blood rushing to your cheeks. you said a lot and felt embarrassed. but he just looked at you keenly.

“i can see you as a writer.”

you furrowed your brows, confused at his response.

“your words are beautiful.”

your eyes widened, a slight sparkle to them. his words hit you hard. the kind of hit that felt like every negative emotion in you had disappeared. the kind that made your authentic self comfortable with him. the kind that felt like it was only you two in the world.

he simply just looked away. he honestly didn’t know what to say nor do next. but he was content. cause his words were truthful. you were a beautiful person all around. and he wanted to be sure that you knew that. even though the feelings he was feeling were foreign and uncomfortable, your words were right. the nighttime and you were making the chaos in his mind bearable.

you both sat in comfortable silence with the soft music in the background. the moon seemed like it had shined brighter, now illuminating and focusing on the both of you. making you two feel safe with each other.

after the blissful moment, you glanced at the clock on your nightstand. three-thirty.

chishiya followed your eyes and turned to also see the time.

“shit,” he muttered. “i better get going.”

“yeah,” you replied, a little saddened that he was leaving.

he got up from your window sill and began to gather his things. you just watched, bringing your knees closer to you as you rested your head against them.

once he was done, he threw his backpack over his shoulder and walked towards your door. but before he opened it, he paused and looked at you. really looked at you.

“i know i don’t say this enough or show it but, i really do care for you.”

you lifted your head up, mouth slightly agape at his words. he…cared for you? he cared for you.

you smiled at his words while he slightly grinned back.

“see you tomorrow, y/n/n.”

and then, he walked out the door into the peaceful night. leaving you breathless, filled with old and new emotions but most importantly, leaving you free.

he saw the real you. he listened to you. and he cares about you.

and while you don’t know where this is going or where it will go, you do know you care for him too. more than you ever had for anyone.

#chishiya shuntaro #chishiya fic #chishiya imagine #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya angst #chishiya fluff #aib chishiya #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya x y/n #chishiya x reader #chishiya x gn reader #chishiya x you #aib fanfic #aib x you #alice in boderland x reader #aib #nijiro murakami #nijiro days #alice in borderland

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dreamgrlarchive · 11 months

Text

Nicki Minaj’s The Pinkprint Era (+No Frauds)

#PrettyHeiressDiaries: Eras Edition 🎀

this is my first #PrettyHeiressDiaries post. as i’ve previously stated, this series is going to be me diving into my fav muses and celebs and dissecting what i can take from these lovely ladies. this blog will focus on Nicki Minaj’s branding from 2014-2017 roughly. + a few Queen era looks.

The Pinkprint Era Style Elements:

the pinkprint was alter ego free, and a return to hiphop and r&b for nicki. meaning she was highly stripped of the campy pop rap star we had come to know. it was chic DOWN. think collector barbie vs the harajuku barbie. don’t mistake me though, onika was still very in touch with her cutesy girly side. there was a balance of sexy and chic with a few drops of cute. and this is why the pinkprint era is my absolute favorite, with her looks being a standard i follow for a lot of my looks.

nicki’s cute mirrors 🎀

nicki’s iconic black barbie insta selfies, wearing real hair or natural extensions(often textured ponytails and blowouts), minimal makeup and natural beats 🎀

lots of black and neutrals, statement purses (often times chanel) 🎀

nicki makes a return to the harajuku barbie aesthetic during the pinkprint tour 🎀 +

prissy pink looks i loved from this era 🎀

No Frauds Era Style Elements:

after the pinkprint era was dying down and nicki had become the victim of “the nicki hate train,” her style was still reminiscent of pinkprint. but i would say her branding shifted from the demure somewhat sweetheart to more of an unapologetically bad bitch. this is marked as the “no frauds era” (the time between pinkprint and queen)

glamorous gowns, grandiose blingy bodysuits and adornments, continuing from the pinkprint aesthetic, she’s still wearing natural glams and hairstyles 🎀 +

latex catsuits, lacey looks, pink as seen in the paper magazine cover and the motorsport video 🎀

literally queen couture (tiaras, headpieces, and maximalist furs), the subtle return of the barbie chain, 40 inch “you b*tches can’t even spell prague” naomi/cher hair 🎀

My Fav Queen Era Looks:

ex. tusa videoshoot, harpers bazaar vietnam cover, 2018 vma look, chun li cover art look, 2018 harpers bazaar look 🎀

So What Can We Learn?

Nicki’s style has never been anything short of ultra femme and makes it clear she’s not afraid to take up space and your attention.

As her branding and look shifts through these eras, it’s as if she’s becoming more aggressive with the her fashion to speak to the public.

During The Pinkprint Era, she said “Look, I can put the pink wigs and rainbow paint away and still capture attention while making quality work. Respect me.”

The No Frauds Era saw her evolve into a more flashy Nicki while taking hints of her past looks to say “I AM the greatest, you will NEVER top me, and I can remind you who I am.” Note the Barbie chain while also dressing like modern day royalty.

Nicki Minaj is a highly polarizing figure in pop culture but that should not stop us from acknowledging the cultural resets she’s delivered us in the fashion and beauty industry. When she said “I got all these girls wantin’ to be Barbie Dollz,” it wasn’t just a line, ITS TRUE. So many influential girls on instagram look like either Nicki, Kim K, or Madison Beer, just to name a few. The girls have taken a heavy note from the colored hair, bussdown middle part inches, bulky chains, all while trying to maintain an untouchable level of HYPERFEMININITY. An actual BLACK BARBIE.

-PrettyHeiressDiaries 🎀

credits: nathyyy and blessing mukosha via youtube, @thevirgodoll and @babyphat05’s breakdowns on femmes in the culture on the respective personal blogs.

#prettyheiressdiaries #nicki #my posts #some looks are places in a different time period purely for aesthetic reasons

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reinainaric · 2 months

Text

autumn // satosugu

warning: SATOSUGU ANGST, THATS THE WARNING

I carved my name into your ribcage

How long has it been since Satoru last fell asleep?

He remembers. Every night he’d stare at the empty space on the other side of the bed, his hands reaching to touch nothing but the soft wind that would run from the window. He remembers the arms that used to embrace him on the same bed, the man who'd throw blankets to his shivering body, the heart that wraps him to keep him warm.

He's trying to get used to this. The presence that Suguru left behind. He hates how their polaroids seem to pity him, looking at him like he's lost the meaning of life.

Suguru smiles as he feels Satoru's fingertips on his bare chest, reading the name that he leaves with every brush of his touch.

He plants a kiss on his lover's temple, his eyes slowly closing to feel the comfort of having Satoru next to him.

When Suguru left, not only did he take all of their memories with him, but also a piece of Satoru's soul.

You said, “Don’t fret love. Someday, I'll be my own man, I'll be free.”

Oh, but darling, did you mean free from me?

He couldn't even hate Suguru for what he did.

He can never hate Suguru. In fact, he wants Suguru to make him understand, and that maybe, if he did, then maybe…

Then maybe Suguru is worth twisting his morales for.

How was it so easy for Suguru to let him go?

But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts, and I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong

“Are you the strongest because your Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you're the strongest?”

Sometimes, he'd think about that day. When the skies were as dead as his soul, when the crowd was as slow as his beating heart, when Suguru looked at him like he meant nothing to him anymore.

Satoru closed his eyes as tears started to form again from his tired eyes, biting his lip to keep the sobs from coming out.

He feels so lost.

What's the worth of having the name Gojo anyway? When he himself can't even be the strongest anymore when he's at closed doors.

Oh but darling, do you see the cuts from which I bleed? It's me you've slain.

The moment Suguru and Satoru lost each other was the closest they got from death.

Everything about what they used to have caused a scar in their own hearts, slowly losing their bloods as they both struggle to breathe without the other.

That's what they are, after all. Black and white. One always exists with the other, always together but always the polar opposites.

But no matter how different they are, they perfectly fit each other like a missing puzzle piece.

But for Suguru, Satoru was the poison he'd become so addicted to, filling his lungs like its water, and he'll suffocate for the love that he's forbidden to have.

And for Satoru, Suguru was everything. The oxygen he breathes, his north star in a moonless night, the keeper of his heart, the promise he wished to keep ‘til the day he dies. Without him, he's nothing but a piece of disregarded shadow of Suguru's past.

I fell for you faster than I fell apart

Satoru didn't even expect it to come into this.

He wants to forget Suguru and let himself move on to be the man that he is, destined for great things, but not Suguru. Never Suguru. But he couldn't escape him, he was the only one he had. His sweetest dream. His bittersweet dream. His one and only.

Satoru's eyes turned red as he raised his hand towards Suguru's back walking away from him, ready to kill him in that instant. His jaw clenched, his fingers shaking in both anger and sorrow, trying to keep himself still. But his hand only ended up forming into a fist as he watched Suguru disappear from the crowd. Away from him, and from his life with him.

For several weeks, even months since Suguru was gone, Satoru finds himself inside the same classroom he used to sit with Suguru. He watched the old Satoru and Suguru who used to laugh in the same seats, their shadows always following each other. Like a movie flashing in his head, silently reaching its end point.

And he'll cry. And cry. And cry another. Because that's all he can do. That's all he's left to do.

How do we stay afloat? When do I let go?

Suguru always thought it was his fault. And ironically, just like Satoru, he was the same mess as him.

It was his choice in the first place. He never regretted it, and yet…

Something was always pulling at his heartstrings everytime he remembered Satoru and everything he left behind. Even if he wanted to come back, Satoru must've hated him now.

And that's the reality he's living now. With the thought that Satoru resented his whole existence ever since he left. That maybe Satoru regretted him now.

However, it's easier for Suguru to live this way, thinking his lover let go of all his love for him, only left with anger and hatred. Even though it hurts him, it was better for Satoru to hate him than love this horrible version of himself that he came to be.

Suguru is scarred, from the very start. He had an ugly soul that contrasts Satoru's, and he didn't want to paint his crystal blue with his dirty ones.

You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed

And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe

“Satoru.” Suguru called his lover's name in the most endearing tone that Satoru loved to hear so much. He handed a carton of milk to Satoru, settling down beside him in the middle of the basketball court.

Satoru's eyes shined as Suguru even handed him a chocolate, knowing that Satoru loves sweets so much. “Suguru!” He said his name with so much delight that Suguru wanted to melt.

Suguru is not even a fan of sweets as much as Satoru, but for him, he can probably drown in the thousands of chocolates in the whole world if Satoru asked him to. And that's just how it is for them. Suguru would go to the greatest lengths for Satoru, and Satoru would do just the same.

And it was so hard for Suguru when he was slowly losing it, and he couldn't tell Satoru. His mental breakdown was making it hard for him to look at Satoru anymore because what would he think?

Would he still love him?

You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me

Gojo Satoru never regretted Suguru. Nor did he ever hate him. More so, he hates himself instead for not being there.

He lived for the moments he had with Suguru because that's all he can have. Their story, for Satoru, felt so short-lived, and their distance apart and days without each other felt the most suffocating.

Oh, my love, is this the end for us? Maybe we've had enough

Satoru's always going to look for Suguru's shadow until his eyes grow tired, until he's tired. And Suguru would keep walking away towards the darkness, because as Suguru believes, that's where he belonged, not with his lover.

***

I wrote this just because 🥹 I always see that post that said Satoru had several breakdowns when Suguru left, and that behind his blindfold, he was always looking at Suguru's soul (?) or was it shadow? but anyways, i wrote this because i like to suffer.

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grapejuicestyless · 3 months

Note

i have had this idea for so long, but i really think you could do this justice. sort of like the film the holiday!!! but not really set in Christmas and more so through the seasons. harry moves out of the city (doesn’t need to be a singer and could just be a CEO) into a small village in a lovely cottage where all of the furniture is mismatched and there’s sash windows which are always open. He’s there for a few months before he starts to feel lonely so decides to bring in a lodger! He hand makes posters and puts them on the village hall board and … he finally gets a taker! It’s a quirky girl who is totally all over the place and she moves in .. the seasons change and so does their relationship.. friends to lovers OR ACTUALLY maybe it could be so interesting for it to be enemies to lovers! That could be fun to write. But idk I’ve been thinking about it for so long !!! They could organise a dinner party for friends one night or maybe Harry goes away to the city for a meeting and that’s where y/n realises how much she misses him / likes him. Definitely has to be fluffy but also needs to have some drama. I haven’t figured that out yet 😭😭😭 I’m so sorry for this really long rambly post but I wanted to give u as much of my brain as possible lol. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to see what you would do with this / if it’s something you’re even interested in. Have a gorgeous evening / day / morning xxx love you!!💖💖💖💖💖

Bad People

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and Y/n met by pure luck. Sharing secrets and laughing like little kids, ribs and cheeks hurting. Y/n is sure Harry is destined to be in her life forever. She’s just not sure when that became a bad thing.

FLANGST/FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS

The pale blue sky looked gray from certain windows. The glass was cracked and the stove stained with boiled over soup broth and old sprinklings of spices.

The birds sang solemnly, humming the tune to what I believed sounded like something you’d hear at a funeral. Here, the pavement was cracked and the stars were consistently covered with clouds. Snow, more often than not, fell heavily. From October to April. The nearby ocean nearly always too cold to swim in. The backyard pool cold and clean, still with nobody to inhabit it.

All the beauty ripped from the earth, and replaced with another kind of it. I wouldn’t mind it half as much, if I had someone to enjoy the snow with. To enjoy the polar plunges, the visible breath and numb fingers.

Like old times sake, snowmen and snowball fights. Sledding or fort making. Rosy cheeks and icy hair a memory of the past. Cheeks hurting from smiles, not the winter chill.

The laughter of my mother was long gone, and my brother outgrew his desire for a sibling as soon as he turned sixteen. Few friends, not any at least, that would enjoy the activities the white powder offered.

So now, I look out the window, nursing a glass of wine propped up on the windowsill. I don’t see the snow day ahead or pray for a white Christmas. I pray that one day, I’ll find someone to enjoy it with me. To soothe the pain little eight year old me suffered with the absence of her father, her distant mother and her selfish brother.

“Looking at it won’t make it fall any faster, Y/n.” The puff of air coming from my nose fogs up to cool glass, and my fingers leave prints along the center.

He’s not looking at me, he rarely does when we aren’t fighting. It’s like I disgust him. I feel like a fool every god damn time.

“Have you always naturally been an asshole or did you grow into it?” I don’t look at him, but I feel his gaze settle on my reflection in the glass. His voice alone urges me to take a large drink from the wine glass. The ruby red staining my top lip. I spread it around and taste the bitterness of it on my tongue.

He begins to leave, almost succeeding without a passing glance, but biting his tongue is something Harry nor I have ever been able to do. So it’s natural how he goes for the last word.

“Theres only so much wine, Y/n.” He teases. I down the rest while he walks away. The sigh that leaves my mouth after I feel the ghost of him leaving me isn’t only for air, but because suddenly the room feels lighter.

It’s funny, how someone so special can leave such a disgusting taste in your mouth. Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing. To remember that it wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always hate my old friend, bounded to me through the home we share. I once enjoyed the company of Harry styles.

It was nearly a year since I’d moved in. A year since the slow turned to thick ice and roads became bare with people too afraid to try and navigate through the harsh winter.

Nearly a year since I first saw the house at the end of the road, with a neat front lawn and a tree with hanging branches ready to snap.

A red scarf and red mittens is what I wore. With a faded brown coat and worn blue jeans. A hat on top of my head and a journal tucked underneath my arm. He had the greenest eyes I had ever seen. The stars in the night sky didn’t quite shine as bright as his eyes, I swore it to myself.

He had an english accent, one that I wasn’t familiar with. Peach fuzz and dark chocolate curls a mess on his head. When I told him my job, he laughed, but something about his shocked expression after told me he didn’t mean it cruelly. Rather, that he was shocked, or just piecing the puzzle together.

“I’m my mother’s daughter.” I told him, “She always had a thing for poetry. The sappy ones with the tragic endings. I got it from her and I’m damn good at it.” I smiled at him then, and he smiled back bigger.

“It’s just funny. Moving somewhere so quiet for a job all about fantasy and adventure.” He explained, already guiding the two of us through the wide doorway. I set my boots in the old entryway which it seemed he had turned into a mud room. I admired the shade of green on the wall and nodded along. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

That night, while settling into my new space, I shared with him my life. My goals and dreams. With his toothy smile and boyish eyes, he made it so easy to trust him. I sat on my newly made bed and he sat in my spinning chair by my desk. Moving it back and forth, swaying slowly. A cigarette started dangling from his pocket, I still remember the way he took it between his thumb and his index finger. Rolling it around, debating whether or not to light it. It was like he didn’t know he had it.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker.” I laughed at him, he laughed back. Shy almost, only looking at me for a moment.

“M’not. A few here and there. Helps to wind down.” When he ran his hand through his hair, I remember seeing all his rings. A rose and two with his initials. One looked like a lion. That one was my favorite.

Other than his charming smile and infectious laughter, I knew nothing of him, I had come to realize. Here he was, knowing about my family and friends. My job and my hobbies. All I had asked him was his name.

When I asked him, he was just as talkative as I was. A sparkle in his eyes when he talked about his job. I remember specifically, how they lit up extra bright when he mentioned his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma. I learned about his job too. Harry had everything he could ever truly want. The money, the power, the glory. His office at the top floor overlooking the bustling city that never sleeps. Families dancing around the square and traffic backed up into the city line.

The sad thing was, that even with all this pride he got to carry with his reputation, the city was no home to him. The summer held no comfort. Not the same now that he was long out of school. The heat was simply uncomfortable. His lavish suit sticking to his skin. Even the air conditioner couldn’t soothe the pounding of his head against the strong New York heat.

His nose stung in the summer. The warmer it got, the worse it smelled. Garbage littering the streets no longer covered by thick snow. Tourists and their children filling up all his favorite places of relaxation. Each carrying their own scent from home. The calming pine from the North or the tangy citrus of the west coast.

Harry felt no true love for his home anymore. No real attachment. There was no smell of home, and there certainly wasn’t any old faces with their gravelly voices and thick accents. If it weren’t for the business there, he would’ve fled somewhere else long ago. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere that felt like home. If he could, he would have tucked himself back into the small home his mother raised him and his sister in. He would’ve curled up happily in his twin bed and looked out the same crooked window each night and feel happy with only that.

He tells me that when he got in the car waiting for him at the airport, he was tempted to tell the driver to take him home, to see if it would make him smile. He’d seen the gag used in all the old rom-coms he and his mother used to watch. The short blonde running from the love of her life only to be led back into his arms. But Harry know’s better. He tells me so. So when the driver asks him where to, he tells him the address.

He told me about his work life. How there was a branch out in the UK. The one that started it all. And as his success grew, so did his aspirations and his needs. London no longer provided him with the luxury and opportunity that New York could. So he swapped out his office for a penthouse and acted like the smell of burning garbage and mysterious wet spots on the sidewalks didn’t bother him.

It’s a vicious cycle. To outgrow, to long for, to move, to hate all over again. Thats how he decided that London has just what he needed. His business within reach and smaller towns surrounding its borders.

“And what about now? Are you happy?” Harry crinkled his eyes then, smiling a nodding along. He didn’t even mind it then, when I would interrupt. In fact, he welcomed it. Claimed he loved hearing me talk.

I agreed with him when he said that the grass is greener down here. The stars are just that much brighter and theres not a single car honking their horn past nine. All things that left him feeling a whole lot calmer than the chaos of the city.

Here, Harry told me he didn’t mind not living in a lavish penthouse just a few blocks away from his work. Here, he was hours away from the city. He stays in a medium sized cape cod styled house, pre-decorated from the past owners who didn’t care to take their things when they left for something bigger. It sticks out from the rest of the homes nearby. He wonders how something so different ended up within the same area. And he smiled and sat on the floor when I laughed and told him he’d already lived quite the life for a nearly-thirty year old man.

When silence took over after over an hour long conversation, I bit at my nails and looked at the floor. Suddenly, it came to me.

“Harry?” I had asked. He hummed, looking at me. Even if I hadn’t looked back, I could still feel his eyes on mine. “What made you want a roommate?” When my eyes flickered up to his, I saw no hate, or disgust, or shame. Nothing that I am familiar with now in Harry’s eyes. I saw curiosity, warmth and happiness.

“I like the quiet. I like being able to sleep without someone yelling down the hallway. I like how green it is over here.” I nodded, waiting for him to continue. “But the quiet get’s lonely. And while I like the quiet, I hate being alone.” And it made me smile back then. Maybe it still does thinking about it know. He had been helping me in finding a home, some place warm to stay. Meanwhile, I had been able to give back. Give him what he wanted. At the time, my heart warmed.

For a long time after that, Harry made my heart beat fiercely. He brought me flowers and made us pancakes. Freshly picked blueberries from the local market. He cracked jokes and I repeated them back between our broken laughter, imitating his english accent.

He was a charming man, with an energy that invited and kept you drawn to him. Everyone wanted to be around Harry. The men and the women. Always wanting a piece of the pie. I felt rich in life, that while others had to work for a lifelong friendship with him, naturally, we fit together. We worked.

He entered my life by some kind of coincidence. I needed a place to stay and he was offering a room up.

When he brushed his thumb over my knuckles and kissed the skin, I believed we would be like this forever. Just the two of us.

When he whispered to me that he loved me that same night, I thought it was something he would never take back. Something that would never change. His warm breath and glistening eyes. He was red and shiny. A bottle of the cheap champagne sat on the table and an empty glass beside him. I let his lips trail around my hand and laugh at his antics.

“Harry.” I mumbled into the darkness, he doesn’t move. I silently giggle again after he puffs air out of his own nose onto my hand playfully. His shoulders shake with his own fits of laughter, “Harry.” I call out again, and my eyes are met with his dazzling emerald ones. I almost got lost, forgot how to talk looking at him.

My palms were sweaty with nervousness then. My heart beating out of my chest. I wanted more than anything to tell him everything. As a poet, it should have been easy to put my thoughts out in the open air. But they hadn’t sat within me for long enough to curate a straight forward answer.

How would I even manage to start on how beautiful I thought his brown hair was? Perfectly colored like milk chocolate treats that curled over his forehead. Or his toothy grin which pulled butterflies from the pit of my stomach and made me feel lighter? I couldn’t find just one thing to focus on. And the words that came out of my mouth tumbled out quickly.

“You’re my best friend.” I hoped that he would’ve been able to see how much love I held for him in my face. How even in the dim lighting of only the fireplace and the fading lamp in the corner, he could see how they sparkled just for him.

He pulled his hand away after that, clearing his throat and nodding. But he smiled so softly after that I didn’t see how his eyes welled up with tears. I only saw his perfectly pink lips and his rosy cheeks. For once, I wasn’t focused on his eyes, and I paid the price.

He never made pancakes for us after that night. Nor did he ever pick flowers from the fields or crack jokes until our stomachs hurt. My hand was never slotted between his and my head didn’t rest on top of his shoulders. His was colder, more distant. Quiet.

But the quiet grew old for us both. And the slipping away hurt more than anything I’d ever experienced. I was everyone else in his life. Fighting for a spot in the light so he would see me, smile at me, acknowledge me.

Part of me wondered why he never asked me to leave. To pack my bags and find another innocent man to love because he wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. But he never did. Harry hated being alone and I knew better than anyone else. I knew it because I was his best friend at some point. We shared the same breaths and drank from the same glasses. I wore his shirts and he used my hair clips. He kept me around not because he still wanted me, but because he still needed me. And the realization of it all hurts worse than the silence because it’s then I know that I’ve really lost him. It leaves me with the question, ‘What have I done to deserve this?’

I think back on that night when our world shifted on its axis and I go over every word that was said. I check for any signs of discomfort or anger and I find nothing. It plagues me with a new insecurity.

Maybe it wasn’t something I’d said, maybe it wasn’t something I’d done. Maybe the warmth from the champagne grew cold in his blood and the false euphoria from it all cleared from his peripheral vision and he realized that I was no longer enough. I was not what he wanted. The idea of his roommate becoming his only friend too pathetic for a man with such power.

Soon after, I stop putting up a fight. I stop fighting for a spot in his life and I stop trying to win back a man that was never mine. I figured at least if he could never be mine and I would never be his, at least I still got to see his pretty face everyday. And I could imagine that we never drifted.

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost. The tears running down my cheeks are hot, burning my skin until my throat dully aches and my chest is red with flakes of nail polish and the dragging of my nails clawing at my chest.

I am sobbing, broken and tired. I dream of a life that is not as miserable. I dream of a life where I no longer doubt the things I love. Where I don’t have to question my friend’s loyalty.

He knocks on my door, leaning against it in only his flannel pants. He has tattoos that compliment his skin so well. He looks like a painting. I’m relieved to see him again. Even if it’s under these circumstances.

I wait for him to speak, even if it’s merely a mumble. Even if I cannot understand.

“Can you stop crying? I can’t sleep.” He requests. My lips part and I swear my lungs collapse within my chest. I can’t breathe and somehow I remain composed.

“Okay.” I say quietly, nodding along and trying to find his eyes. They look at the floor, and his face is contorted like it pained him to say that to me. Like it was against his will. But he doesn’t even look at me.

When he leaves, I collapse, shoulder shaking with rage, sadness, confusion instead of the contagious laughter that once rang out through the halls.

I decide then, July moon shining through the sash windows of my room that I couldn’t continue holding onto Harry. My heart still beats for him and my eyes still sparkled when his own lingered for just a moment longer on me, but I couldn’t like him.

Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing.

After that night, his selfish wishes turn to bitter comments which turn to vicious attacks at my confidence. And my resilience and devotion to silence, to ignore the cruelty of it all is worn thin. My bitten tongue is freed and I am betrayed by my own words. My own comments targeted at his deepest hurts. It’s a mutual hate between us, a mutual dislike.

We live within the same four walls, the same windows and creaky roof over our heads. We cook in the same kitchen and we sit on the same couch, but we cannot stand each other anymore. The house is no longer filled with love, and the warm heat turns to bitter cold. And yet, neither of us have the guts to leave.

We sit here, in a life thats so mean to us just because we are afraid of the loneliness that is surely to come with the other’s absence.

We are here, but we aren’t present. It makes me laugh, it makes me wonder.

Who could ever leave me? But who could stay?

The candles burned down to the floor, wax melting over the wood as the lights set a warm, homely mood for the night. The late December rush throughout the town turned to the few and far between searching for last minute supplies to ring in the new year. It’s peacefully still outside, and the dining room looks so nice I forget why the candles burn and our nicest plates are set out.

Harry insisted on having a small gathering with some of our friends to celebrate the new year before he went away for sometime for work. Being roommates, despite our lack of interest in establishing our own friendship, his friends become my friends and mine become his. It’s a fairly large group that was once two. But have now become so closely intertwined that it seems hard to differentiate who was friends with who first.

There was wine, pastas and breads. Hams and potatoes. Drinks and endless desserts. It felt nice, to have all those people we cared so deeply about chip in and help to create such a lovely meal for the few of us.

Hearing that first doorbell ring to see all of our friends stood proudly on our crooked doorstep made my heart flutter. Sarah, Mitch, Pauli, Elin, Charlotte, Nyoh. All holding various foods to add to the never ending supply on the multiple tables set in a row.

“Harry! Y/n!” The enthusiasm from our friends seemed to lighten the mood, letting the heavy feeling of heated arguments and constant anger slip down my back and into the farthest part of my brain.

It was times like these where I’d forget how to hate. How to spread anger and disgust to someone who clearly showed none of it in return in these times. Here, Harry was talkative. Always plastering on a fake smile and wave.

He was good at pretending. And while the walls of the house had seen a different story, those around us were innocent, forever unknowing of how Harry constantly belittled me, bothered me. Of how I was no better. How my tongue was sharp and my words shot to kill.

Nobody minded the difference in height of the dinning room table against the kitchen table. How one was round and the other a rectangle. Both covered by one long table cloth. Nobody minded the soft music in the background or how the light wasn’t the brightest. The soft flickers never mentioned.

We let the candles burn until they had nothing left to give, and we ate until it was bare and our stomachs hurt. Here, I never felt like I was trapped. Here, I remembered by I came to live with Harry in the first place. And I was thankful. It was times like these I couldn’t help smiling like an idiot. Cheeks sore and eyes crinkling. I would laugh at just about anything, trust anyone and agree with everything.

“When are you going to tell him?” An elbow to the ribs pulled my gaze from the end of the table, my smile dropping for only a moment at the sudden shock.

“Sorry?” I mumbled softly into Sarah’s ear. Her eyes glimmered with something mischievous, like she knew something that I didn’t. She licked her pink lips and looked briefly back to the end of the table. All the way over by the dining table, sat a few feet away and a couple inches higher, was Harry. Laughing and talking with Pauli and Elin about anything and everything. I couldn’t quite make it out over the soft chatter of Mitch and Charlotte and the clinking of forks on plates.

“Harry!” She called softly. When my eyebrows furrowed she rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

“I don’t get it.” Forking another bite of vegetables into my mouth, I watched her fight for the right words to say. Her lips finally settling on the soft smile I knew very well.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. I know that look. Better than anyone. Thats how I look at Mitch.” She playfully nudged my shoulder. Did she believe that I held any romantic feelings for Harry? I couldn’t, it was impossible. Right?

His rude remarks and his mean demeanor. Sure, at one point my heart beat for the brunette with an infectious smile and shiny green eyes, but now it was a memory of the past. Another pretty face who had thrown away all of his charm and care and exchanged with unwavering cruelty.

“Oh, no. Sarah, I don’t think about him that way.” I tried to wave her off, trying to sound the least amount disgusted by her assumption. I couldn’t help but wonder why she thought that.

“I don’t believe you.” She sounded smug, crossing her hands on my thigh and giggling. “You don’t have to. I believe myself.” Brushing her off, I take another bite of any remaining scraps on my plate. Trying to avoid conversation.

“Come on, you seriously don’t see it?” She sounded exasperated now, even more so when I nodded carelessly. She was getting tired of my avoidance to the conversation, my disinterest in her false discovery. Still, the longer she pushed, the more I felt the heat rush to my face. The more my cheeks burned and my skin tingled.

“I’m serious, Sarah. I don’t look at him in anyway. He’s just my roommate. Nothing more, nothing less.” I lean back, volume brought down to a mere whisper with the dying laugher at the other end of the table.

“Well, he’s your friend at least, right?” The lump in my throat was unswallowable. With the growing tightness in my throat and the clamminess of my palms. I wanted nothing more than to slip away and pretend this never happened. So, I bite my tongue and nod, eyes flickering to Sarah while I do so. I pray that she doesn’t see the tears welling in the corners and how glossy they’ve gotten in such a short period of time.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend.” The lie stings, burning as it comes out. Partially because I hate lying to my dear Sarah, but mainly because at some point it was the truth.

Harry was my everything at one point in my life. He might as well have hung the damn moon and stars. I thought the world of him, wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrapped around mine all the damn time. And it killed me that we’d gotten so far away from that idea that I had to lie about even being acquainted with him.

“Word of advice.” She started, eyeing Harry carefully. My eyes remained glued to the table, fork wobbling between my pointer finger and my thumb. “Best friends don’t look at each other that way.” And when she finished what she wanted to say, I swear my heart just about stopped. All color draining from my face and my eyes rapidly blinking away the tears by now.

Setting my fork down, I ignore her playful smile and the nudge of her shoulder into mine. I look for another face to converse with, to make me begin to forget everything I was trying so desperately to escape. When I search the table, it seems like each person has found themselves in deep conversation with the other. All but one.

And his green eyes capture mine in a way I haven’t known in so long. I’d forgotten what it was like to be the center of his gaze. How thrilling it was. With my eyes, glossed over and heart beating through my chest, it seemed impossible for me to ever consider looking away. His chocolate brown curls and sweet pink lips in a gentle smile. It was consuming and alluring. Irresistible even.

A face that once disgusted me, shattered my heart, angered me and knocked me down with no air left to breathe seemed not all that frightening anymore. And the warmth that spread in my chest scared me more than anything.

I begin to realize, maybe Sarah was right. Maybe that was why I hated him so much. I didn’t hate Harry Styles. And thats why it hurt just that much more. I didn’t hate him at all, in fact. No, rather my poor heart couldn’t handle the heartbreak and deflected in the most malicious way possible. I missed my best friend.

“Y/n.” Sarahs voice pulls me from my haze, and my eyes are flickering over to hers quickly. Lips still parted and eyes still wide.

“You’re crying.” I hadn’t felt the salty heat dripping down my cheeks until she announced it. My skin too numb from embarrassment to even understand what was happening.

My tongue is tied, and my throat is killing me. I feel like I might vomit if I stay here any longer. I can’t be here any longer, I can’t do it. Not when I’ve just realized what I did. I feel what I felt all those months ago when Harry told me to stop crying. When he shut me out for good and became bitter. I feel all air leave my lungs and my knees wobbling. I am going to collapse.

“I just need air.” I say all too loudly, pushing out the chair clumsily and stepping back. The loud scratch of the wooden legs of the wooden floors turns heads and my heavy breathing tells me to get the hell out.

I pardon myself after that, waving off any concern from Sarah, and making sure nobody else saw my escape. Everyone’s still deep into conversation when I turn the corner. All but Sarah and Harry. But neither of them make a move to reach me. I let myself collapse on my bed, mascara running down my white sheets and back aching from how stiff I became at that table. I silently pray that I’ll sleep through the rest of winter.

When the dinner got cold and we’d all run out of things to say, we all look around and silently agree to part ways. It was nice to have some company, I enjoyed being around these people so much. My heart should have been full, yet it felt heavy and empty all at the same time. Littered with a guilt I wasn’t even sure was mine.

I’d seen the way she looked at me. Really looked at me. Glossed over eyes and a quivering lip. She was red with the rush of adrenaline in her blood. Anyone could see how quickly she began to breathe. It was like she was stuck, consumed by something so strong that it left her powerless, weak, crumbling quickly under an undetermined pressure. She started to cry, biting back a sob by biting harshly into her bottom lip, eyes shaking while she searched my face. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Who had said what, and how I could help her.

I wanted to yell at whoever hurt her this bad. And the feeling of that in itself was unsettling. How my heart still longed to comfort, protect the heart of the girl who once shattered my own with her own words. More than that, I wanted to scream when nobody followed her when she ran. How nobody cared nearly enough about why she was so upset.

I couldn’t understand why I was so invested in her. Someone I was sworn to hate. Someone I had teased and fought for months and let hurt me constantly in retaliation.

But then again, we were no better than one another. We never were. Always saying too little and not opening up quite enough. Creating issues instead of solving problems. We were explosive, nobody could hurt me quite like she could and yet, I felt horrible that she was so upset.

Like the day I’d found her pacing restlessly across the floor. Skin blotchy and eyes puffy with tears. Throat sore with the violent sobs ripping through them. I’d wanted to hold her then too, but I was too bitter to do anything but tell her to quiet down. I felt the same guilt in my bones. And I make the same mistakes I made the first time. I watch her break down and sit with the uneasiness of it all.

Mitch lays a hand over my shoulder, his other arm wrapped around Sarah as he leads her through the door. His eyes look sad and tired. But his smile is genuine and filled with concern.

“Check on Y/n for us okay? Sarah thought it would be best to leave her be for now.” His hand left my shoulder and the door shut quickly after. Leaving me with the unbearable silence and loneliness I felt so frequently nowadays. It breaks down my walls and scares the shit out of me.

Maybe thats why I make my way to the kitchen, shuffling slowly along the floors and leaning slowly over the makeshift tables. A bottle of rouge in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other. I stuff them in my pocket and hold the bottle close to my side.

I’m slow, delaying the inevitable question. When I knock on the door, it’s quiet. Almost like I’m hoping that if it’s soft enough, she won’t hear and I can pretend she was ignoring me. But, she does hear me, and she calls out a raspy, muffled welcome, signaling for whoever was hidden behind the door to come through and take in her puffy eyes and wet cheeks.

My throat tightens when I smell her perfume. Something that I would have drowned in not so long ago. She has clothes thrown on a chair in the corner, the same one I sat in so many months ago. I’m tempted to push them off and just sit in the silence with her like we once enjoyed doing.

Her head is in her pillow and her arms are underneath her. She is unaware of who she has let in, but her silence and unmoving body tells me she’s lost all ability to care. I want to leave. I want to turn around and convince myself it was all a mistake. I’d checked on her and she was still alive and well. I’d done my part and I could go on guilt free and forget about how crushed she’d looked just hours before.

When I begin to turn on my heels and pray for this day to be over, I see something unforgettable. A small Polaroid from last year. Just weeks after she’d moved in and charmed me with her beauty and whit. She’s sat with her legs over my lap and my arms around her body. We couldn’t be any happier, and the memory makes my chest sting.

She still cared enough to keep up the old memories of us, even after all the fights and mean glares. Why did she have to keep the damn photo up?

Guilt consumes me once again, and I am faced with the sad woman in front of me, still in the same place as before and just as sad as before. My feet betray my mind, and soon I am stood beside her bedside table with a bottle of wine dangling between my pointer finger and my middle finger.

The glass knocks against her shoulder in a silent invitation. My eyes wordlessly asking her to follow. Her eyes are red, and her lips still shake. She looks completely torn apart, desperate and distraught. Disheveled even. But for some reason in my blurry head, all I can think about is how absolutely beautiful she is in the pale moonlight.

“Come on.” I ask her softly, offering her my hand. When she takes it, she’s nodding already. Trusting a man who deserves no second chances, no trust whatsoever for his cruelty and his inability to communicate. But she follows regardless.

I can’t help but realize how having her so close feels good.

He lights the cigarette for me and watches as I let it burn. My lips twitch as they wrap around the end, tasting the bitterness of its contents and the dry paper.

“How did we end up here?” I ask him, looking over the horizon. The waves are calming over here. They almost silence the ringing in my ears, despite the distance between where we sit, feet dangling over the empty pool edge and the large grass behind it.

He shrugs, snagging the cigarette from my hand delicately and taking a long drag from its end. We swap, my hands wrap around the neck of the wine bottle. It’s tinted green and nearly full.

“Unlucky people, I guess.” He looks at his feet. They dangle in the pool beside mine. You can see just how close we are in the turquoise tint. How the lights make us look less vibrant.

“I wouldn’t consider us unlucky.” I look at the sky, and I can feel his eyes on my face. It makes me swallow, how intense his gaze is. It almost makes it feel that much more real.

“Why’s that?” He asks, twisting the bud out on the cement. It stains the freshly cleaned grey stone an ashy black, but I bite my tongue.

“We had each other. Maybe we aren’t the best people, maybe we’re cruel, but I’d rather argue than live in solitude, right? Company can’t be bought. Even the most painful of it. That’s something real. Something without a price. And we’ve got it.” And it’s true. We fight and we throw shit. We stain the walls and rip the curtains. We start fires and try to blame the other. We make a mess and make amends. But a house isn’t a home without someone to share it with. And at least if we had to suffer to get there, we got it.

“Thats some of your poet shit.” He laughs sadly into the silence, looking at his feet. I laugh along, though I can tell he was only half joking. Then, I let the silence wash back over us. Forgetting how we almost had a full conversation.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I’m so mean.” He says sincerely. It’s sudden too. I can tell from the rawness in his voice. How his eyes tear up and his lips quiver. His voice cracks. Our feet hang off the edge of the backyard. It’s a quiet life. Even now. With our fights and all the fraud. But it’s never a lonely life, and we only have each other to thank for it.

I want to tell him I know, and I’m so sure of it. I’ve seen the real him, we might just not mesh together. But we once had, and that fact alone holds me back. He takes the lack of response and an opportunity to excuse himself. Pulling his body up by the arms and grunting through the sliding back door. I sit alone in the backyard for hours, body curling up into itself and layers of clothing becoming less than enough after some more time.

“I know.” I whisper into the silence. I know he’s not a bad person, I know it so well and I am so certain of it. I knew Harry once. He’s loyal and kind and the smartest man I’d ever met. And I miss knowing him like that so much.

I thought for a second tonight, I’d gotten part of him back. And maybe I had, but he left so soon I couldn’t really tell all that well. He’s left me back in the silence, wondering what happened to us, and what will happen to us. Why he came to get me, and why he even bothered to open up to me. But he never gives me the time to properly ask, even if I planned to.

I ring in the New Year alone.

The next morning he’s gone. Back to New York for his business in the big city and I am left to sit and think about what was said. A half empty bottle of wine stained with my red lipstick and glitter on the floor from old party poppers Charlotte and Elin had made sure to use before making their exit. I repeat his words.

He’s not a bad person, so why is he so mean? It’s best left unknown. Because if theres one thing I fear more than anything, it’s the realization of rejection.

Even from a man I hate so entirely, it consumes me. That I could not stand to be faced with the fact that Harry and I do not get along simply because we do not work and not because of some other underlying reason.

After all, we had it all. Gave each other everything the other had wanted. Food, shelter, company. There was really so explanation for the bitterness between us.

After all, all this time, despite his anger and hatred, he never left me to the wolves. And despite my heartbreak and sadness, I never left him with an empty home.

A wise man once said to never bite the hand that feeds it. Yet, here we are. Ripping skin from bone until we are left with nothing. We are the ungrateful, the selfish, the cruel. And we both believe that we are in the right.

I am so scared of rejection from this man who I claim to hate because he is the hand that feeds me and I am the hand to him.

We aren’t bad people, so why are we so mean? We recognize all we have to be grateful for, so why do we bite the hand that feeds us?

I guess the vulnerability of it all must have scared us. And while facing the storm, we did what all people do. We let fear consume us and we bite.

Somehow, through all of this. The realizations and the tears and wine and dusty ashes, I love him. Even with my teeth sinking into his skin and his own in mine, drawing blood, I love him. I love Harry Styles. He is my best friend and I am his. That is why I am scared and that is why it hurts so bad. Not because I simply missed him, but rather because my heart was devoted to a man who did not want it.

My fingers fumble over the pad on the phone. I type up his phone number by heart and let it ring. He answers quickly, still waiting for his plane at the airport.

“Y/n?” I can hear the bustling crowds around him and the loud engines taking off from other terminals. I imagine he is plugging one of his ears and mentally cursing the noise for making it so hard to hear.

“Come home.” My breathing is unstable, and my hands run through my hair so much I create new tangles by my neck.

“What? No, Y/n, I have to go. People are expecting me.” He starts to explain how important this is for his business. How it would be so much simpler to be there rather than over a computer screen.

“Fuck them, who cares! Harry, I need you, and I want you, please just listen to me for once. Don’t scoff, or…or roll your eyes or leave! Listen to me this once and if it’s not worth it to you, I promise you’ll never have to listen to me again. Please, it’s important.” I ramble, endless pleas met with silence. I can feel the rejection coming, I can hear the way he chokes on a breath, debating what I said.

“Okay.” The phone goes dead with his promise to come home. With the continuous beeps, I slowly come to terms with what I’d just done. But I do not feel panicked, or scared. I feel lighter with the fact that I am about to tell the moody boy something I wished I told him a long time ago.

The door opens with a creak, keys jingling in his large palms. I’d spent the morning pacing the kitchen. Leaving a trail of confetti behind in my wake. I hadn’t cared enough to clean with my endless thoughts and extreme amounts of adrenaline.

“Y/n?” His voice was unsure when it rang out. As if he didn’t know what to expect. The door shut behind him not long before I came rushing around the corner, fingernails bitten to the skin and hangnails bleeding profusely.

“God, Y/n what the hell…” Taking my hands into his, he examined the redness of my irritated skin stained further with dry blood.

“I know.” I looked at him, and he looked back at me like I was crazy.

“What?” His thumbs bent over the backs of my palms, holding me in front of him.

“I know.” I breathed out again, looking at him with such sincerity, praying for him to understand. “You’re not a bad person, and I know it because I know you. Because we fight and we tease and we scream and cry. But I know you because once we didn’t do all of that. And I needed you to know that because it wasn’t fair of me to make you believe that to be true after everything you’ve done for me.” My voice shook with how vulnerable I felt myself becoming. Harry’s hands only tightened the further I explained.

“But what about all I’ve done to you. Y/n, I’ve been awful to you and I never even told you why.” He tried to argue. I shook my head, biting my lips.

“I haven’t been much better.” I smiled sadly. He shook his head back.

“No.”

“Yes.” I blinked hard, pushing back the tears that formed watching his own gather by his waterline.

“No, Y/n, I’ve been horrible. I’ve been mean.” He tried to push away everything I was trying to ignore.

“And so have I.” I tried harder to make him understand.

“But you only did it because I had. And for what?” He finally spoke, voice raised with so much desperation behind it, I froze under his touch.

“Because I loved you so much it drove me fucking insane? Because I still love you and I’m afraid if I can’t get you to hate me I’ll never be able to stop.” He was crying now, pleading with me to make me see his side of things. All I could do was shake my head.

“Harry I could never hate you.”

“But you could never love me.” He argued.

“Thats not true, Harry tell me you know that it couldn’t be true.” I rip my hands from his grip to rest them on his cheeks. I try to wipe away his tears, but his hands cover my wrists and pull them back down.

“How could I? You said it yourself. All those months ago, I told you. I held you close and I told you I loved you. You told me I was your best friend. You couldn’t even pretend!” Neither of us could tell if he was angry or just sad. Maybe both, but no amount of denial would calm him down.

“I didn’t have to, I still don’t have to pretend! Harry, I only said that because I was so fucking scared. Scared of us, of me, of you. Of losing you if it didn’t work. And I lost you anyways, I would’ve just said it if I knew I’d lose you like this.” Our chests bumped and his fingers slipped between mine.

“Y/n.” He whispered into the silence, over our heavy breathing and salty tears.

“I love you, and I miss you.” He didn’t say anything. I could feel him slipping away as soon as his response never came. Not a single word left to say between us. Not a single amount of energy left to fight.

And then he was kissing me. Hard and sweet. Like I was everything he’d ever wanted and more. Like he was hungry, needing more and more of something he had always wanted but could never have. And at the same time, it was soft and tender. Like he never wanted it to end. My back arched within the grip of his wandering hands and my fingers tangling in his curls. I swore I would never let him go.

But it was a swear I couldn’t keep, because air dwindled quickly and spit strung between our lips. Something I would usually gag at, but didn’t mind at the moment. His forehead against mine and arms gripping the fabric by my hips so tight if I moved he could have ripped it.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized in between his heaving breaths.

“Me too.” Looking at him, I could see the red staining his lips from the makeup I’d slept in. It made me laugh, which in result made him smile.

“What? What!” He laughed along cluelessly, letting me back away for a moment.

“You have something-“ I pointed again his mouth and smiled.

“Oh do I? Do I?” He kissed my cheek, smearing the remnants of our kiss across my cheek. “Still there?” He asked with a sly grin. Like he knew he was winning.

So I kissed him hard again, smearing red around his skin and his pink lips with so much love, there was no denying my feelings anymore. There was no hate left to give.

“Yeah, you do.” It was yet another fight, but not one I minded.

After all, thats what we did for so long, it was what we were good at. The teasing and the fighting. Only now it wasn’t bitter, it was playful. And we didn’t coexist with the sole purpose of it.

Because now I was his and he was mine. And this knowledge answered all my questions, all my doubts I’d had before about our relationship and our shared insecurities that led us down this scaring path.

Harry was my best friend, and I was his. And there was no love greater than that.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry x reader #fine line harry styles #harry styles #yn x harrystyles #yn x harry

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mirasantidotes · 1 year

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Messy Annotations - Chapter 1

(GIFs not mine)

Read chapter 2 here

Summary: You meet Javi at your local library and notice he's reading your favorite book. You two hit it off and spend your day together, just talking and getting to know each other before you spend the night at his house on accident.

Character: Javi Gutierrez (TUWOMT)

Content Warnings: very ooc!javi, shy!javi, sunshine!reader, reader has wavy hair, reader lives in spain, very fluffy, reader's love language is touch, implied slight age gap (reader is in their 30s), can be read platonically or romantically, a LOT of blushing (a little too much), reader goes to college later in life, HUGE bookworm!reader, no use of y/n. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Thank you for your notes and compliments on Dance With Me; it means a lot! Also, just send an ask/comment and tell me if you'd like a part 2 to this, I had a lot of fun writing it, and I have a few ideas already for a part 2. If you have any other ideas for fanfics, my asks are open for requests! I hope you all enjoy this; it took me forever to get done, and I had an insanely hard time coming up with how I wanted this fic to turn out. The struggle was totally worth it though; this is probably one of my favorite fics I've written!

All of my posts with an * in the title contain smut, or mentions of it. Minors DNI.

(Divider by saradika)

Living in Spain has been one of your biggest dreams, and you finally moved here for college abroad to work on your infuriating art major, even though you feel like you’re a little old for college now that you’re in your 30s. You’re an underground artist, and you’re just itching to get your work out there to be noticed by the public. You’re an absolute ball of sunshine, and to be fair, you’re the most energetic and outgoing person you know, but, you don’t really know too many people in Spain yet, but that’s beside the point. You really are energetic, though— almost too much. There is one thing that you’re always excited about though, no matter what— reading. Finding new books to binge-read in one sitting is always one of your favorite activities when you have free time. The library cashier is extremely tired of you coming in every week.

Javi Gutierrez, on the other hand, is the polar opposite of you. He’s a shy, new up-and-coming actor who doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life after the success of his first movie. Though fame is finding him well, much more than anticipated, he doesn’t particularly want to make another movie quite yet, now that his co-star, Nic Cage, has left Spain. Even with his newfound fame, he still enjoys going out and doing activities he enjoys, which mainly include going to the local library. He prefers reading in a library than in his own house, alone. He likes the atmosphere the library gives him, but most of all, he loves tucking himself away strategically in the corner of the library window, so he can look out and see the bustling streets of people living their everyday lives.

On a Friday afternoon, you have some free time to yourself, and you, of course, decide to head to your local library. You never go on Fridays— your typical day off is Sunday, but today was different; today was a professor work day at your college, so you had no classes or any assignments to complete, meaning you could spend your whole day reading. You walk into the library happily, as always. The smell of the ink bled into the pages of hundreds of books filled your lungs— a scent you thoroughly enjoyed. You finally pick out a new book that you’ve been eyeing, having heard good things about it online and from the people in your college.

Even though you got what you came for, you couldn’t walk into a library and buy just one book— no, you had to buy at least 5 every time you came in. After picking out your books, you waltz to the cashier, who already appeared annoyed at you being there. A strict, slightly older woman— always had an attitude, but that didn’t let you stop being your energetic, bubbly self to her. “You know, you still need to return the other 10 books, right?” she says, sternness filling her tone.

“Yeah, yeah! I know; I’ll bring them all back next time I come!” you say, smiling widely, setting the books down on the counter. The woman simply rolls her eyes at your response, knowing you’d be back in a few days and she’d have to deal with you again. After she scans the books, the woman tells you, “Your total is going to be €15.75.” €15.75… you think. You only brought €15— you sigh in response; the woman before you, never having heard that sound come out of you, and looked at you like you had 3 heads planted firmly upon your shoulders. You searched your pockets and purse but had no change.

“It’s just 75 cents. Can’t you let it pass this once?” You plead but to no avail. The woman shakes her head harshly, muttering something about ‘library rules,’ but you were too disappointed by her head shake to take care of what she said. You sigh once more— looking around the library; surely somebody would be willing to give you a dollar, right? Right?

You feel increasingly upset the longer you look through the library aisles for someone to ask until your eyes finally land on a gentleman wearing a mustard-colored shirt full of wrinkles. He was sitting in a corner, away from everything, with his legs planted on a footrest and his face hiding behind a book. You hold your finger up to the cashier, signaling for her to wait as she sighs in response. You walk up to the man, “Hey! I hate to ask you this, but I was just checking out, and I’m 75 cents short. Do you mind? It’s okay if not—” you say quickly, trying not to seem too over the top.

The man lowers his book, and a shy pink rose upon his cheeks while nodding slowly. “Um yeah, sure,” he whispers, almost inaudible, as he shifts himself in his seat and reaches into his jeans pocket for some change. He pulls a €5 bill from his pockets and raises his hand for you to take it before settling back into his seat.

You take the bill from between his fingers, grinning brightly— “Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver,” you say, full of enthusiasm. A soft smile washes over the man’s face before nodding, his cheeks still showing a light rose color. You turn on your heel and rush back to the cashier, proudly waving your money in the air. After checking out, the cashier hands you your change, and you grab your books. Before you leave, you turn back and walk toward the man again. He seemed to have heard you coming and had lowered his book just enough to see you already standing there. “Hey again, thank you for lending me some money. Here’s the change!” you say, holding the money out to him, close enough for him to reach it. The man lowers his book into his lap, smiling softly, takes the money from your grasp, and messily pushes the money back into his jeans.

You finally catch a glimpse of the man's entire face, his curly brown hair complimenting his tanned skin and the patchy stubble on his face. You grow curious and look into the man’s lap to see what book he’s reading— and to your surprise, it’s your favorite book ever. “Oh my God,” you exclaim, a little too loud for a library, startling the man slightly and causing him to look at you. After adjusting your tone accordingly, you continue— “that’s my favorite book!”

His face lights up brightly, “Really? That’s awesome,” he enthuses, yelling in a whisper. Just for a moment, he’s brought out of his shy state. He adjusts his position again, sitting forward in his seat and removing his feet from the footrest. “I’ve loved this book since it came out,” he continues, “I’ve never met anyone else who likes it.”

“Yeah, all the books from this author are really good! I especially love this one, though,” you finish, smiling as you sit on the footrest in front of the man, hugging your new books to your chest. The man, shy once more, becomes flustered until “Hey, I was thinking of going to the coffee shop down the street. Do you wanna come with?” you say, tilting your head to the side.

The man’s eyes widened, with even more heat rising into his cheeks— another thing they had in common; coffee. “Yeah, of course,” he enthuses, breaking eye contact just enough to stand up out of his seat while grabbing his bag and placing his book inside of it, “I love that place!” he finishes as he puts the bag messily around his shoulder, looking back at you. He looks down at the books you’re holding in your arms, and as you stand up, he asks, “Do you wanna put your books in my bag? So you don’t have to hold them—” he says softly.

“Yeah, sure! Just don’t steal them for yourself,” you joke, making yourself chuckle before handing him your books. The man blushes at your words, taking the books from your hands and placing them all inside his bag. The two of you walk out of the library, and you wave to the cashier as you leave; she, of course, didn’t wave back. As the two of you walk towards the coffee shop, you get lost in conversation about your favorite books. The walk was the same distance it always was, but with the man walking with you, it felt a lot shorter than usual.

Just as you reach the shop, you stop suddenly. You hadn’t asked the man his name, nor had he asked you. “I forgot to ask, what’s your name?” you say, turning to him, smiling nervously.

“Javi,” he says, his rich, deep voice rings through your ears. A soft laugh escapes your mouth, full of nervousness as you tell the man your name, him joining your chuckles soon after. The two of you sit at one of the tables placed by a window.

The two of you gush over your newfound subjects in common— a not-so-known favorite author and coffee. What could be better? The two of you spend well over an hour hogging up the coffee table, just getting to know each other, until a worker comes and tells you that you have to leave if you aren’t going to buy anything else. The two of you are already so strung out on coffee you both know either of you doesn’t need any more in your system. “Hey, do you wanna come over to my house for a little bit?” Javi asks, “You don’t have to, obviously; I know we just met and—”

You spring your head up at his words; you’ve been having a lot of fun talking to Javi so far; what could it hurt? “Of course!” you interrupt his concerned rambling. He simply smiles in return, picking up the bag under his seat as he stands up. The two of you walk to the door of the coffee shop, “I walked here from my house, so it’s a bit of a walk—” he says, as he opens the door for you to walk out, “I hope that’s okay,” he finishes as he walks out behind you, closing the door.

“Yeah, that’s alright!” you say excitedly as the two of you start walking toward’s Javi’s house. Obviously, you don’t go to random people’s houses like this, but Javi felt— different. He felt trustworthy, considerate, and loving. You’re brought out of your thoughts while on the way there as you spot a flower field to the left of you. You stop walking to look at the view for a moment, Javi noticing almost immediately. He turns back to face you, a slight smile planted on your face. You’ve never been to this area of Spain before, and already, it’s so much more beautiful than where you currently dwell.

Javi looks for a moment at your wavy hair, lightly being blown in the sunset’s wind, the sun glowing brightly in the backdrop of you, lighting illuminating your features. As he realizes he’s been staring, he clears his throat and fixes his shirt before stepping toward you. Just as he reaches your side, you look at him. “It’s beautiful,” you declare, still looking at the field. Javi looks at you and nods, “Yeah, it is.” before turning his head to look where your eyes were fixated. Suddenly, you interlink your arm with his, tugging at him to follow you into the field. “Come on, let’s pick some flowers,” you say, excitement filling your body, with a slight red washing across your face as you unlink your arm, running your hand down to hold his, as you turn around to face him while walking backward as laughter fills the air. Javi blushes at the sight of you for what seems like the millionth time today— as you two reach relatively far from the path you were previously walking, you let go of Javi’s hand, your body missing his touch.

You bend down near a patch of red carnations, picking a flower and lifting it to your nose, smelling the sweet yet subtle clove-like scent and letting it fill your body, making you feel warm inside. You stand back up and turn around to see Javi standing behind you, hands in his pockets with the corners of his lips upturned softly, causing gentle wrinkles to form around his dark-colored eyes. You walk up to him and place the flower behind his ear, letting his soft curls hug around the stem to hold it in place— light pink creeps up his neck and onto his cheeks once more.

You giggle at his face, full of awe— you break your gaze from his kind face enough to look up into the sky, causing Javi to do the same. You notice it’s getting late, and just as you’re about to say you should get going to Javi’s house, he speaks, “It’s getting late; we should hurry before it gets too dark,” his deep voice with his rich accent echoing through your ears as if honey had a sound— making your cheeks flush.

You simply nod in agreement while holding your hand out for him to take it. He has to look back between your hand and your face a few times before finally taking it in his own, making a few soft chuckles escape your mouth, causing him to do so too. After about 20 minutes of walking, the bright orange rays shining behind you slowly disappear until finally reaching it’s end, and the lightness of the moon begins peeking out from the horizon. The two of you reach Javi’s home, and God— was it beautiful. You wouldn’t admit it, but you felt slightly jealous while walking into his pristine villa home when you’re reminded of your small college dorm.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” he asks, breaking the non-awkward silence the two of you had throughout your walk.

“Sure! Water’s fine,” you reply happily, looking at all of the knick-knacks Javi had littered throughout his home. Javi returns with your water in hand, nearly running to get back to you.

After handing it to you, he speaks up, “Do you wanna go sit on the couch— or?” he says, his voice laced with a sort of sweetness that makes your body tingle. You nod in response, taking a sip from your water. Javi guides you to his living room; the large room before you opens up as he turns on moody, orange lights that remind you of the sunset you saw a mere hour ago. It feels homey— welcoming, and warm. Something you don’t experience at your own college house. Javi walks over to the couch, covered in soft blankets and a few pillows, and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. You follow closely behind, sitting close to him, your knees almost brushing against each other as you sink into your seat.

Javi hums as if he’s forgotten something essential and stands up without saying anything. He disappears into the other room, leaving you there. After a few moments, he returns— an old worn book in his hands. “This is one of my favorite books,” he says, sitting back down next to you, “I want you to read it,” he finishes softly, looking at you while motioning for you to take it. You oblige— surprisingly, it’s a book you’ve never read, so of course, you’d be willing. You open the book to the first page, glancing at it, then turning over a few pages before running your fingers through each and every page, noticing messily written notes and scribbles written out into the worn margins. You absolutely adore annotated books, and it’s one of your favorite pastimes, besides actually reading the book in the first place.

You let a few chuckles escape your mouth as you look up to see Javi’s relieved expression grow on his face after your silence. You reach over to hug him quickly, causing him to laugh too, his hand resting on your upper back. You pull away, returning your attention to the book, positioning yourself cross-legged before him, sinking into your seat even more. “Can I read it now?” you ask, smiling, still not looking at him but skimming the first page's notes.

“Of course,” he says simply, smiling. You start reading immediately— resting your head on the side of the couch. You point out a few rather silly remarks he’s written down on the first page, causing you both to giggle. You spend well over an hour just reading the pages of the book, occasionally engaging in a conversation about what you’re reading, Javi being just as fascinated with it as you are, if not more which makes you chuckle. After a while, a “Can I lay my head on your lap?” escapes your mouth, looking at Javi for consent. He nods as his face heats up, and you lay down, the book above your face, as you two still talk about the notes he’s made and the careless actions the main character makes in the book.

About halfway through the book, you hear Javi’s stomach grumble something mean, causing you to laugh. “You hungry?” you ask sarcastically, looking at him, letting a few more chuckles escape your mouth. You receive a nod as he joins in on your laughter, a slight tint of embarrassment hidden within as he hides his face behind his hands. You lift your head off his lap, setting the book down on the couch, not leaving the page you left off on. “You should eat,” you say softly.

“Yeah,” he pauses, thinking. “Do you want some cake? That’s what I’m going to have,” he finishes, looking over at you, eyes glistening in the light’s warm tones that fill the room.

You smile, “That sound’s perfect!” you say, nodding. He stands up, whispering a quiet ‘okay’ sound before disappearing into the other room once more before returning a few minutes later with two plates, each with red velvet cake and a napkin on each. You let out a small squeak at the sight, making your mouth water slightly at the richly flavored cake. As you two are eating, Javi finishes rather quickly, and you notice frosting on his face he doesn’t seem to notice. You pick up your napkin to wipe it off, his cheeks turning visibly red, as does yours, the both of you gigging.

Once you finish your cake, you set both plates down on the coffee table, along with the book, and lay your head back down on his lap. “Wanna watch some TV?” you ask, looking up at his face and into his eyes as he meets yours.

“Sure thing,” he says, nodding while looking down at your face before reaching for the remote to turn on the TV. After an hour of watching the show, you fall asleep, head still resting in his lap. He notices shortly after when he hears the soft snores that escape your mouth, which is slightly agape. He smiles at the sight, lowering his hand down to brush some of the hair out of your face. He feels your cold skin and grabs the blanket from behind you that was messily thrown over the couch’s back, and lays it over your body, causing you to stir slightly in your sleep. He lowers the volume of the TV so as to not wake you up.

Shortly after, he looks down at your sleeping state, whispering a light "Goodnight, hermosa (beautiful)," before he leans back onto the couch deeper, sighing contently, before falling asleep for the night, with you in a deep sleep on his lap.

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phantomtrader19 · 30 days

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POTO LONDON 16/03/2024 CHUMISA’S 3RD SHOW!! - REVIEW

(Audio will be gifted soon!)

I had booked this trip before Chumisa was announced to be taking over as alternate the day before so I was kicking myself I just missed her first show, I had heard clips of her online and she sounded incredible and lots of people were raving about her.

I went to the show expecting Eve or Colleen to be on as Lily had been off the Thursday and I didn’t think Chumisa would have done 2 shows directly after her debut BUT low and behold her name was on the castboard however I was a little skeptical as there has been a few times where it’s been incorrect.

During the Hannibal ballet Chumisa came out and I was so excited!! She looked gorgeous in the costume and wig! I also got the pleasure of seeing Lily as Carlotta again who was also brilliant, during Carlotta’s think of me Chumisa was in awe of her and just as the cloth was about to drop you could sense that she had sensed the presence of the phantom.

She began think of me and had a lovely vibrato to start off and then she delivered an unbelievable rendition of the song! So elegant in the way she moved in the Elissa skirt and so smiley like her Christine couldn’t believe her luck! Her cadenza was angelic to say the least so floaty and the high note so strong!

Her chemistry with Joe in the dressing room was so so good she played Christine like a total giddy teenager which really worked!

Her title song was lovely she has a great lower register for the beginning and then her cadenza was BEAUTIFUL and really powerful!

Perfect acting in music of the night played Christine with so much curiosity she was just fascinated by the phantom, her facial expressions and again so elegant in the way she moved!

The unmasking again just great acting and she held the note when singing “who’s is that face in the shadows…who’s is that face in the maaaaask” tiny detail that I LOVED

In the rooftop she was not having any of Raoul’s BS she completely stood on her own and almost seemed to be like well if you don’t believe me see ya later!

All I ask of you was brilliant! Again their chemistry was so palpable one of my fave performances I’ve seen of that song!

Masquerade again her little acting choices were so solid it was as if she was searching for the phantom in the crowd! Notes/managers 2 she stood up to Carlotta really strongly and when she got to Twisted every way you could see her Christine totally break down like she had nothing left to give, truly wonderful poignant acting choices!

Her wishing was SOOOO GOOD she relied a little more on her belt which I imagine she’ll get more into the soprano side further into her run but for her 3rd ever show an absolute acting masterclass!

In PONR she was stunning! When she knew it was the phantom it was almost rage coming out in her singing like she was so over his nonsense lol

NOW…..the final lair…..WOW

She was inCREDible!!! Again a lot of belt but it worked so so well for her portrayal of Christine she really held her own here I was blown away! I got that Chumisa rn is more of a Raoul Christine as opposed to Lily who’s the polar opposite so a really lovely change!

Overall for her 3rd show as Christine I see Chumisa being a fan favourite, so much charisma and charm in her Christine and vocally was beautiful and will only get better! All 4 London Christine’s are top of their game we’re truly spoiled!

Costume notes:

- Her wig texture and style was stunning I just wish they’d add a bit more hair to make it a bit fluffier.

- Her Elissa Skirt is like Anouk’s one so no big bow in the back and gold appliqué round the fake bodice.

- Lovely mint bow in her hair for Il muto and I’m not a massive costume buff however her rooftop dress looked different and I can’t pinpoint why?

- Her masquerade dress was slightly better than Lily’s the bodice was perfectly fit and adequately beaded and the skirt had a lovely shape! West end star princess’ are just not my fave tbh!

- Her wishing dress was like the original production ones with the waterfall drape which was interesting I wonder if that will change

#phantomoftheopera #poto #poto london #phantom of the opera #poto west end revival #his majesty’s theatre #christine alternate #Chumisa Dornford May

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number1mingyustan · 1 year

Text

Bittersweet (Chapter 2—Lesson 1) ||k.mgyu + j.ww

Genre: neighbors to lovers, strangers to lovers, angst, smut

Warnings: mentions of sex, kissing, marking, grinding, sexual tension, mingyu gets hard but nothing extreme happens

Summary: in which mingyu finds out about your crush and he’s determined to teach you something new

Word Count: 2.5k

series masterlist

_______________________________________________

‘mom’s working late, meet me outside the boys locker room @ 4. we can go back to mine after school’

You close your phone, foot tapping rapidly against the ground beneath you.

You’re waiting impatiently outside of the boys locker room. Mingyu texted to meet him there after school so the two of you could drive back to his place.

However, the weather is getting warmer and spring is approaching. Thus, it’s almost baseball season. Mingyu being the star athlete he is, practices during off season to stay in shape and continue to improve his skills.

It’s currently 4:13 and you’ve been waiting since 4 like he told you. You’re about to let out a huff of annoyance when Mingyu appears in front of you.

“Hey kid,” he flashes you a smile.

“You’re late,” you huff.

“Eager to get back to my place are we?” he teases.

You push him softly, to which he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Sorry, I was pitching to Wonwoo and after he got his catcher gear off he wanted a few more to hit off of. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Your heart stops at the sound of his name.

Wonwoo.

Jeon Wonwoo, Mingyu’s best friend since freshman year. The two were your iconic pitcher and catcher duo yet somehow polar opposites. Mingyu was the more loud cocky extroverted type where Wonwoo was the silent observant introvert.

The two of them were inseparable, often spending their time on videos games or in the batting cages. They went everywhere together, it was always Wonwoo and Mingyu.

However what Mingyu didn’t know what that you had the absolute biggest and fattest crush on Wonwoo.

It always shocked you how many girls wanted Mingyu when Wonwoo himself was sculpted by the gods themselves. And when he wore his glasses? You were really done for then.

“Wonwoo?” you squeak.

“Yeah, I was gonna wait up for him before we left but-“

“No!” you cut him off. You grab his arm, pulling him toward the door.

“What the hell Y/n? What has gotten into you?” Mingyu asks.

The two of you exit the school, walking toward his car.

“I can’t let him see me like this, I look bad today.” you say quickly.

“Can’t let him- what? You look fine. Besides I don’t get why it matters. Are you like into Wonwoo or something?” he asks, unlocking his car.

You stay silent, climbing into the passenger seat. He sits in the driver’s seat, turning his head toward you.

“Holy shit you’re totally in love with Wonwoo!” he laughs.

“Shhh!” you shush him loudly. “You can’t tell him! I’m serious Mingyu. I know you guys are really close but he actually can’t find out.”

“Nah,” he says as he starts the car up. “I’m no snitch. I just find it crazy that you’re like in love with him.”

“I’m not in love,” you mumble.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he shrugs before starting the drive home.

“You should leave a love letter in his locker, he loves that kind of stuff,” Mingyu grins.

“Really?” You perk up. There’s a hint of excitement in your voice and Mingyu swears your eyes start twinkling.

“No,” he snorts.

You fall back into the seat with a scoff. “Asshole.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The drive home isn’t a long one. You usually walk to and from school, but being in Mingyu’s car is way more convenient.

The two of you enter his room. He takes your backpack off your shoulders, placing it on the ground before asking if you want anything to drink.

“Water is fine,” you tell him.

Mingyu can tell you’re nervous. The drive home was comfortable, the two of you talked more than yoder have in years and Mingyu has to admit it was nice. You may be nerdy, but you’re genuinely a cool person to talk to. You’re funny and you make him smile.

He misses being friends with you.

The moment you two entered his front door however, the tension shifted. You were here to hook up with him, not engage in playful conversation like you did in the car. But now, you had anxious written all over you. He finds it cute, but at the same time he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. “I’ll be right back. Feel free to sit down, make yourself comfortable.”

When Mingyu re-enters his room he lets out a mental sigh of relief when he sees you sitting on his bed. You’re clearly still nervous, but he can tell you’re easing up.

He hands you a water bottle to which you reply with a quiet ‘thank you.’ He pulls up his rolling desk chair, sitting on it backwards and placing himself right in front of you.

“Okay, I wanna set some rules first,” he states.

You nod attentively.

"Rule number one, the absolute most important rule," he spins around in his chair. "Consent is sexy."

"We're gonna be doing a lot of stuff that's probably kind of new to you, some you may be up for and other stuff not so much. It's just really important for me to know what we can and can't do. Understand?"

He looks up at you, a look of shock appearing on his face. Your head is down as you're vigiously scribbling down his words with pen and paper.

"Are you seriously taking notes right now?" he asks.

You look up, briefly making eye contact with him and nodding. "Yeah."

"Jesus Christ Y/n, this isn't school," he chuckles. "I'll let you do you and maybe we can both sign off on it. Make it like an official legal document or something."

You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

"No it's fine really," he smiles. "It's cute."

You peek through your fingers, meeting his eyes again. "Just finish the rules I'm listening."

"Right," he clears his throat. "Right so rule number one is by far the most important. If you ever want me to stop, I'll stop. I just need you to tell me. Which brings me to rule 2."

"Rule number two: communication is key. If you do like something, if you don't like something, just tell me. I won't be hurt if you don't like something, but I am doing this for you. Just be transparent with me about as much as you can okay?" he asks.

You nod, continuing to jot down notes.

“And rule number 3: no catching feelings. This is simply a friend helping out a friend. So don’t go falling in love with me.”

There’s no way he’s dead serious right now.

You look up at him with disbelief written all over your face. “Your ego is way too big Kim. I’m not falling in love with you any time soon.”

You scribble your signature down on the page.

“Yeah well I just had to make sure. You’re a good girl who follows rules like her life depends on it. It’s like a security measure,” he smirks.

"So what's our cover story?" you ask, handing him the paper.

"Cover story?" Mingyu raises an eyebrow, taking the paper and a pen.

"Well yeah, if people see us talking in the hallways it'll look weird. I thought maybe you'd want to tell people I was just tutoring you or something. I wouldn't want to ruin your reputation or anything," you shrug.

Mingyu feels a pang of guilt in his chest. Why would you assume that? People must have really hurt you.

"We don't tell them anything," he says as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. "What you and I do in our free time is none of their business. If people wanna talk, let them talk. That kind of stuff shouldn't affect you."

He signs his name next to yours before handing the pen and paper back to you. Your hands meet, and his linger.

Your faces have grown dangerously close and you’re almost positive he can hear how loud your heart is beating out your chest.

His gaze falls to your lips as he slowly licks his own before looking you in the eyes. This is really dangerous.

You snap back into your thoughts, quickly putting the notebook and pen back into your bag. Mingyu rolls the chair a few inches away from the bed as he clears his throat.

“Y/n have you ever kissed anyone?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I don’t really count it though.”

“Why not?” he muses.

“Um,” you rub the back of your neck awkwardly. “It was in seventh grade and it was kind of bad.”

“Tell me about it,” he smiles.

You look at him briefly, hesitant to talk. “Well um, you were the grade above but do you remember Jinseon? He was pretty popular, you probably talked to him.”

“Yeah I remember him,” Mingyu recalls.

“Yeah well I had a crush on him back in middle school, and I guess he and his friends found out. So they like dared him to make a move on me. Usually it would bother me more if someone did that, but he was a god awful kisser it doesn’t even matter to me.”

Mingyu is holding back a frown. You genuinely seem fine as far as the situation, but just how much shit have people put you through?

“He left a note in my locker saying to meet him after school near the soccer field. And so I want, and he didn’t even say anything! He just kissed me. It was like his tongue was just… everywhere and he bit me once. God it was so bad,” you laugh.

Mingyu laughs with you, agreeing that it was a horrible first kiss experience. “Yeah we’ll definitely need to work on that for you and Wonwoo.”

“Me and Wonwoo?” you question.

“You like him don’t you?” he quirks an eyebrow.

“Yeah but-“

“And he’s my best friend. I could easily set the two of you up, it’s just Wonwoo’s definitely into more… experienced girls. He also likes a bit of a chase with girls. He won’t really want you unless someone else does first. To him, if a girl’s got experience and someone wants her, she’s worth it,” he explains. “Me personally, I let them come to me because it’s much easier. But Wonwoo’s always saying if a girl is super willing to give it up, it’s not worth it blah blah blah. But that’s leads me to our first lesson:”

He shifts his position, sitting down on the chair properly. Unexpectedly, he pulls you onto the chair with him, sitting you on his lap. “Kissing and marking.”

“Kissing and marking?” you question.

He nods. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “It’s okay.”

“Good,” he licks his lips. “I’m gonna mark you up all pretty for Wonwoo to see. Want you to come practice with us tomorrow at 3 okay?”

Your breathing is shaky. The eye contact is heavily and the tension is thick. “Okay.”

His fingers intertwine with your shaky hands. “I’m sorry,” you breathe out. “I’m a little nervous.”

“You’re okay, it’s just me,” he chuckles softly. He rubs his fingers over your knuckles to help calm you down. “I’m gonna kiss you now. Just follow my lead.”

His hand cups your cheek and he pulls your head closer to his. His warm breath tickles your lips before he finally closes the gap.

His lips are soft against yours. The kiss starts off light, progressively growing more passionate as your lips mold against one another. Your lips move together in perfect sync.

You taste so sweet. Mingyu thinks to himself. Your taste is addictive, he doesn’t want to stop kissing you. Never in a million years did he imagine he’d actually end up here with you.

Your hand instinctively comes up to cup his cheek, the other on the side of his neck. He tilts his head back slightly, giving you more access to deepen the kiss.

His hands move confidently, snaking up your shirt. He touches your sides with his soft hands. He traces his fingers along your curves, cautious of his limits.

“Is this okay?“ he asks against your lips.

You nod almost a little too eagerly, nearly moaning into his mouth. His tongue slips into your mouth with ease. His hands have traveled from your sides to your thighs, softly squeezing the flesh. That to which you do let out a moan and Mingyu thinks he’s officially lost it.

He wants to hear it again.

His lips leave yours, immediately attaching themselves to your neck. You’re panting as your head tilts back, inviting him into the flesh of your neck. Your hand tugs at his hair as he bites down. You let out another moan, accidentally grinding your hips against him.

Kissing Mingyu feels so fucking good you think you’re starting to get the hype. Being so inexperienced, you don’t have much to base your judgement on, but Mingyu is an incredible kisser.

He groans into your neck, to which you let out a whimper. He holds you by your hips, somewhat encouraging you to grind against him again. He leaves wet kisses on your skin, occasionally sucking harshly. He smiles to himself as he sees the dark marks appear on your skin.

You move your hips against him slowly, holding your head close to him as your enjoy the pleasure he’s providing you. Your hand is pressed flat against his broad chest.

It’s not until your fourth hickey is forming that you realize just how far you’ve gotten. You pull Mingyu by his hair roughly out of reaction. He gets the memo, detaching his lips from your skin immediately.

He looks up at you with lustful eyes. His lips are swollen and puffy. He’s sure he’s hard right now, but it hardly bothers him right now. You look so pretty above him, marked up with flushed skin and swollen lips.

Yeah he’ll definitely need to rub one out after you leave.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “You were starting you leave a lot, can’t have my mom seeing all of that. You’re like a vampire.

He chuckles. “Sorry, might’ve gone overboard a little bit.

“More than a little,” you smile. “Was I any good though? At least for a virgin loser?”

“Keep looking at me like that and you won’t be much longer,” he mumbles.

You scoff. “Mingyu!” You push yourself off his lap, resituating yourself on his bed. “I cannot believe you just said that.”

“Don’t act like that isn’t the whole reason we’re here right now,” he smirks.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “I’m just gonna take that as a yes.”

Yes absolutely fucking yes. All the girls Mingyu’s ever been with and not a single one of them has kissed him nearly as good as you. Believe me, Mingyu has been with plenty of girls, and never have they gotten him that hard in such a short amount of time. You were truly dangerous.

“Just don’t go falling in love with me now,” you joke.

“You’re beginning to sound like me, kid.” he smirks. “Starting to think you might be the one in love.”

“Very funny,” you say sarcastically. “I’m gonna head home now, my mom is probably waiting.”

“I’ll walk you out,” he says.

You stand up, making your way toward the door. “Sure you wanna walk me out before dealing with your uh… situation.” His eyes follow yours, glancing down at the very obvious bugle in his pants.

He would usually have some witty or sexual remark in a situation like this, but with you, he’s embarrassed. “Just ignore it and let me be a gentleman.”

He practically pushes you out his room. You giggle and he walks you out. He watches from the front door, making sure you enter your house. When you do, he rushes upstairs to his bedroom. He peeks through his blinds, waiting until he can see you in your room, safe and sound. It’s not until then that his mind is at ease.

_______________________________________________

-taglist (closed)- @knucklesdeepmingi @marksflute @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @heidilolxx @listxn @misssugarlips @lizzylovesboo @haogyuslut @taestrwbrry @everyw0nu @luvthatleader-nim @luveveryonewoo @jakecaffe @xeezi @wasteitonserendipity @whyokoa @shapeofgyu @fixonbreakoff @notscoupy @boo-juns @superheros-and-others @mingkis-world @thesmolishbean @bobohumyonlyboo @deekayownsme

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen angst #kpop

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