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#i think its my favorite friendship to write
allylikethecat · 28 days
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Talk Shop Tuesday:
Since I loooove headcanons, could we get some about Fictional!Mattys relationship with Carly, Adam and baby Christopher in OAF 🤗🥹
Yess Talk Shop Tuesday! I deeply apologize that this came in after I had shut my laptop for the night so I could focus on The Familiar (so far, not as good as Ninth House but I'm still enjoying it I think) so I am just now answering it, BUT this is a FANTASTIC question and one I have gotten VERY excited about omg! Here are some of my personal headcanons for On a Friday pertaining to Fictional!Matty's relationship with Fictional!Carly, Fictional!Adam and Christopher!
Fictional!Matty and Fictional!Carly were actually friends long before Fictional!Matty met the boys
Everyone thought Fictional!Matty and Fictional!Carly were going to end up together before they both ended up presenting as omegas as teenagers and then it was like ah yes they are platonic life partners / BFFs forever
Fictional!Matty's parents are both betas, where as Fictional!Carly's are an Alpha/Omega pairing, meaning that Fictional!Matty spent a lot of time at Fictional!Carly's house growing up, and her parents were the ones that gave him a lot of the initial omega talks
Fictional!Matty was initially a little apprehensive when Fictional!Carly and Fictional!Adam started dating even though he was the one that set them up, like that was HIS Fictional!Carly but then he ended up becoming the biggest supporter of their relationship when he saw how happy they both were
Fictional!Matty and Fictional!Carly did one of those weird not recommended blood pact things when they were teenagers and consider each other the closest of family / pack
Fictional!Matty was there every step of the way when Fictional!Carly got pregnant (even though it stirred up some weird feelings for him) and Fictional!Carly couldn't have imagined making it through without Fictional!Matty at her side
As far as Christopher is concerned, Fictional!Matty is "Uncle Matty" and he fully doesn't realize that Fictional!Matty and Fictional!Carly aren't actually brother and sister - he basically has three parents
When Christopher was first born, a small section of the internet was convinced that he was actually Fictional!Matty's (that small section of the internet is still convinced that) and just assumed he had gotten pregnant and had him during lockdown
Fictional!Matty and Fictional!George are VERY close obviously, but Fictional!Matty is much closer to Fictional!Carly and therefore by default Fictional!Adam
The "good" guest room at Fictional!Carly and Fictional!Adam's is Matty's
Fictional!Matty takes Christopher on special "Chris and Matty" adventures when Fictional!Carly and Fictional!Adam want alone time
When they went on the At Their Very Best Tour (SATVB didn't happen in this universe) Christopher didn't understand why both Fictional!Matty AND Fictional!Adam were gone, usually he got to have one or the other
Sometimes Fictional!Adam lays in bed at night and wonders how his child ended up being SO MUCH like Fictional!Matty
Thank you so much for sending this super fun ask! I hope these were the kind of head canons you were looking for? I feel like I might have just gone into more of their history but oh well.... they are all besties and it is great. I hope you continue to enjoy On a Friday and that you are having a wonderful rest of your week!
❤️Ally
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solradguy · 1 year
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I can speak any of the Romance languages just fine but for some god forsaken reason I CANNOT speak French like what the fuck is a bourgeoisie and why can’t I say it correctly for the life of me.
Yeah, French is pretty tricky... Figuring out what letters to pronounce is difficult and I can do the sounds for it in my head when I think I've figured it out (sort of) but my mouth lacks the flexibility to do them out loud haha
A long while ago I read Les Fleurs du Mal, and my copy is dual-language with the original French on the left page and an English translation on the right, and it drove me nuts that I didn't know how to read the sounds for the French so I read a crash course guide for it. It helped a lot once I realized that a good portion of the letters that aren't pronounced in a French word function similarly to an accented character in that it's there only to modify the sounds of the letters near it than to contribute in a major way to the overall sound of the word itself. My native Germanic language (English) brain really wants all of those letters to be doing something up-front instead rofl
Though, English also has its special words with sneaky little helper letters that aren't pronounced... ("sovereign...")
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solarisposting · 2 years
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delulujuls · 1 month
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young, dumb & bwoke | ln4
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hi! as u can see i couldn't stop myself from writing about last saturday events in amsterdam with mr norris as main star (he was more popular than the king himself lmao). lando is literally what i always bring to the function and yup, enjoy him being the chaotic drunk bestie while max and y/n are his literal party parents. its nothing crazy and without plot basically, i just added sum to this years' koningsdag so yeah, enjoy!
summary: there is nothing that lando loves more than a good party and his beloved dutch friends so imagine him with drink in his cup surrounded by whole orange nation. it could be nuts and it was
warnings: TONS of alcohol, lando being drunk (and hurted), mentions of blood, basically sum chaos
pairing: fem!dutch!bff!reader x lando norris (ft. max verstappen)
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Lando couldn't wait for the plane he was on to break through the heavy cloud cover and land in Amsterdam.
China and Miami, which were the next rounds on the calendar, were separated by two weeks that were nothing else, in Lando's case, than a time of stagnation. Add to this the fact that Lando had bad memories of his performance in China and, what's worse, the sprint he failed so badly and which constantly played in his head like a jammed record, one could go crazy. That's why the Brit was extremely happy when he received an invitation to spend the weekend in the capital of the Netherlands. He was invited to Amsterdam to celebrate King Willem's birthday by none other than his favorite flying Dutch.
The friendship of Y/N, Max and Lando began in 2019, practically from the very moment he entered Formula 1. The kid, who was barely 20 years old but looked like 12, immediately won over the Dutch couple with his smile and sense of humor, who, due to their sometimes severe temperament, could not boast of having many friends in the paddock. Even though the three friends were only two years apart, Max and Y/N naturally became Lando's racing parents, with whom the Brit spent practically every moment, from time in the paddock, through celebrating on the podium, to time away from competitions. So it was no surprise when they invited him to spend the weekend together, to which he, of course, eagerly agreed.
When the plane landed, Lando pulled the hood of his orange sweatshirt over his head and slung his backpack over his shoulder, in which he packed everything he might need for the coming days. As you could guess, there wasn't much of it, he actually had everything he needed on him and the most important part was an oversized orange sweatshirt. Waiting for him at the airport was Y/N, who couldn't wait to see him. She didn't have to wait too long, because a moment later he walked out in front of the terminal. Y/N smiled as she saw her friend walking towards her and she hugged him tightly.
"You knew I was coming, you could have asked the king for better weather," Lando joked, trying to sound serious, which only made the girl giggle.
"If you think that the weather will have any influence on what will happen in the evening, then unfortunately I will have to disappoint you," she replied, getting into the car. "It's already starting to get crowded in downtown, and it's not even noon."
Lando threw his backpack into the backseat and got into the passenger side. He smiled like a child, looking forward to how the weekend would unfold. It looked like he would spend a nice few days, able to finally de-stress and relax, and in the company of friends. But speaking of friends, one of them was missing.
"And where's Max?" he asked as they left the airport and were on their way to the girl's apartment. "I thought he had been waiting for me with the welcome committee since yesterday."
"He's already in town, I dropped him off while I was on my way to pick you up."
"He's fast," Lando laughed and shook his head, "I hope he's still on his feet when we get to him."
At that moment, Lando didn't think about the fact that no one else but himself would be able to stay on his feet. When the Brit set off for Amsterdam, he obviously expected to spend two days drunk, with legs sore from dancing and a sore throat from singing, but he forgot that he has absolutely no immunity to alcohol.
When the three friends were finally together, alcohol quickly appeared in their hands. Y/N and Max started with beer, but Lando had no intention of wasting his time drinking something that would only cause pressure on his bladder. As soon as he boarded one of the barges floating on the Herenbracht Canal, he drank several shots at once. Y/N and Max just exchanged glances as he drank the drink standing on Garrix's console in one gulp, who didn't care one bit about it, being already in a good mood himself.
"I'm a little worried about how this might end," Max said in her ear as she took a sip of her cider, watching Lando jump happily.
"Even if he's drunk, so what," she replied, handing him her bottle and taking away the body paints in circulation, "He didn't come here to be bored."
Max was about to say something, but she pushed his hand slightly, bringing the bottle he was holding to his lips. Max shook his head and took a few sips from it, while the girl started painting flags on his cheeks. When she finished, she waved them up, attracting Lando's attention, who understood what she meant and nodded eagerly. The girl squeezed through the console and stood next to him, leaning him against the barge rails, because Lando had trouble not bobbing to the music for a moment.
The smile that never left his face wrinkled his cheeks, on which she tried to paint Dutch flags. When she finished and turned to pass the paints, Lando took off her sunglasses and put them on himself.
"Have a drink with me!" Lando shouted, holding out his empty cup to her, and she raised her cider bottle in response. He rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction when suddenly a bottle of vodka appeared in the crowd and someone handed it straight to his hands. Without much thought, Lando unscrewed the cap and took a few sips as if the contents were water, which of course met with the crowd's approval.
Y/N took the bottle from his hands, fearing not the amount Lando drank, but the relatively short time it took him to do so. However, not wanting to seem boring, she tilted the bottle herself, letting the liquid burn her throat. Delighted, Lando clapped his hands and hugged his friend, causing some of the alcohol to flow down her chin. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist as well, and raised her hand in a toast, which was joined by everyone who had something to drink.
Max also raised his beer bottle a bit. However, somewhere in the background of his mind there was an image of Lando and what he would look like in the near future. However, the Brit himself did not care at all about this. As long as he was in the company of his friends, his plastic cup was full and he could jump to the music and sing along, he was happy. Even the fact that his face was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when someone, completely by accident, punched him in the face, didn't disturb it.
Y/N, who also decided to pick up the pace after drinking her cider, immediately sobered up when she saw blood on her friend's face. She quickly pressed a tissue to his nose, but he tried to assure her that he was fine. His brain didn't encode the impact or the pain, didn't acknowledge that he was bleeding, even when he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted blood on them. People in the crowd started calling out to each other to see if anyone had a first aid kit. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bandage appeared, and just as Y/N, being drunk, thought it would be a great idea to wrap Lando's face in a bandage, Max started asking people if they somehow had band aids. He couldn't let that dumbass parade around like that for the rest of the evening.
“I've sobered up a bit, I can keep drinking,” he said as Y/N finished clumsily bandaging his face, “I probably look worse that i did when i crashed in Vegas.”
Her friend tried to be serious, but it was impossible to stay serious around Lando. "You have to be careful, Lan," she said, trying to retain some sanity and touching his cheek, looking into his eyes, "I hope it's not broken."
"Bwoken," he repeated in silly voice, giggling "Oh no, it couldn't be bwoken"
"Honestly, i also hope it is not," Max interjected when he managed to rejoin his friends after some time, "Getting to the hospital now would be a near miracle."
"Hey, I'm fine," he said as Max waved the Band-Aids in his face and began to remove the clumsy bandage into which their friend had probably poured her whole heart and a few drinks that she drank earlier.
"I'm glad you don't feel anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't look at it," he replied, lifting his chin and examining his nose from every angle. Luckily this one seemed fine.
Once Max had placed two tiny patches on him, Y/N handed him his mug with a fresh drink again. "Brave patient," she smiled at him.
"In a state like this, I'd be surprised if he felt something," Max admitted, taking a bottle of vodka standing nearby. He decided that since Lando had had an accident, nothing worse awaited them and he could allow himself to loosen a bit more. He took a few sips and handed the bottle to the younger one, who smiled, tightening his hand around it. He looked at his friends standing in front of him, slightly drunk but still fully focused on him. He knew he was important to them and that he is not alone in all this madness.
"I love you guys," he said, with a bottle in his hand, pushing himself off the railing and hugging them, "You are the best in the world, simply the best."
The rest of the day and later in the evening took place in a great atmosphere and the party lasted until 3. in the morning. For the rest of Amsterdam it probably lasted longer, but for Lando it began to end after two o'clock, when he was barely able to stand. Partly from being drunk, partly from being tired. He didn't stand still during a single song, so the next day, apart from his face, his legs will certainly be visible. Taking a break for something warm to eat, Max, Y/N, and Lando sat down at one of the wooden tables. While waiting for their orders, Lando rested his head on Y/N's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was obvious that he just needed something to lean on to fall asleep.
"I think it's time for us to go," the girl announced, directing her words to Max. "The baby is only fit for bed now."
"He's been in great shape for a long time anyway, judging by how much he was on his feet today," Max concluded, glancing first at him and then at the girl, "But you're holding up pretty well, aren't you?"
"Yes, I do," she nodded and hugged Lando, who began to slide off her shoulder, "But I'm also getting sleepy."
"Me too," Max rubbed his face with his hands, "At least we can be sure that no one will wake us up first thing in the morning to explore the city."
He said, glancing at Lando, who was dozing with his mouth open on his friend's shoulder. After eating casseroles and fries, which were for Lando and which he was unable to eat, the three of them went to the girl's apartment. Of course, only she and Max were walking on their own, Lando was between them, leaning on their arms. He was muttering something incomprehensible under his breath, so it was obvious that he was alive and everything was fine, besides the fact that he was completely drunk.
When they arrived at the address and crossed the threshold of the apartment, they immediately went to put him in the bedroom, not wasting time in unfolding the couch for him. Max was in the process of stripping him of his shoes, pants, bloody sweatshirt, and all the necklaces and ribbons he had collected the previous day, while Y/N placed a large bottle of water, painkillers, and a bucket by his bed, as if the contents of his stomach had suddenly decided that they wants to get outside. However, there was no indication that Lando was going to have a restless night, because he started snoring softly as soon as his cheek touched the pillow. Max covered him with the blanket and took a few steps away from the bed, standing next to his friend who was looking at the sleeping boy.
"Can you hear that?" Max whispered, glancing at her, and she frowned questioningly, "It's silence, listen to it, because when he gets up, the only thing you can hear will be his lamentations about how hungover he is."
The girl snorted quietly and shook her head, taking Lando's clothes to the laundry.
"The most important thing is that he had a good time. And a little hangover never killed nobody."
The next day, however, did not bring anything unexpected. When Lando woke up, the first thing that hit him was a terrible headache that got worse when he sat down and tried to get out of bed. When he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, Y/N and Max's eyes immediately went towards him and Lando could swear that they looked like they spent the entire last evening on the couch.
"Hi honey, did you sleep well?" Max asked playfully, in the perfect mood for jokes since he himself was fine after last night.
Lando just blinked several times and wanted to wipe his face with his hands and collect some words to answer, but when he touched his cut nose, he cursed loudly.
"What the fuck?"
"A souvenir from yesterday," the girl answered him, getting up from the couch and taking out a frozen package from the fridge, which she handed to him, "I recommend a shower and I'll make you some coffee."
He closed his eyes and put the package to his nose, sighing and grabbing the bathroom door handle. Before he disappeared, Max just shouted after him.
"And don't puke in the shower!"
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pinchofhoney · 8 months
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broken promises, part one
part one | part two | part three »
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 1.8k
warning: none
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: coryo is the type of person i sincerely hate and i'm glad that there are no such arrogant people in my life, who think they are better than others and who in crisis situations only care about themselves and to save their own arse. but at the same time i'm aware that young snow could be someone i'd catch a crush on at school. so why shouldn't i hate him even more?
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: you told me to tag you everywhere, so i'm back to doing it again; @wolfmoonmusic
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
The problem with snow is its tendency to melt, mirroring the way we once thought our feelings would endure forever. Yet, shouldn't emotions, particularly those nestled in our hearts, last longer?
You had known Coriolanus since childhood, and your families had always been close. You had grown up together, surviving the hardships of the war-torn Capitol side by side, and now, in the post-war era, you were still inseparable. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you going above a simple friendship. Your connection ran deep, like the roots of the oldest trees in the Panem's forests.
Coriolanus was an intriguing character, a puzzle you had been solving together since you were children. He was the embodiment of Capitol charm, with his perfectly tailored suits, polished manners, and charismatic smile that could sway even the most skeptical of Capitol elites. But you knew that beneath that carefully constructed facade was a mind as sharp as a blade and a heart that carried the weight of his family's fallen reputation.
Yet, when he was with you, it was as if a different side of him emerged. The hard lines on his face softened, and his icy demeanor melted away. With you, he could be himself, unburdened by the expectations of Capitol society. It was a rare glimpse into the man behind the mask, and you cherished those moments even more than your favorite jasmine tea and the cat you found shortly after the war had ended.
You couldn't help but admire his intelligence, his quick wit, and his relentless determination to succeed in a world that often seemed stacked against him. His family's name might have been tarnished, but Coriolanus was determined to reclaim their lost glory. He was driven by a burning ambition that flickered like an eternal flame, and you were his unwavering support, the one who fanned that flame to keep it burning bright.
In your eyes, he was more than the sum of his flaws and ambitions. He was the boy you had shared secrets with under moonlit skies, the man who had held you when the world crumbled around you, and the person who knew you better than anyone else. With him, you felt safe, cherished, and loved in a way that no one else could replicate.
Your love for him was boundless, and you were content in the knowledge that you were his confidante, the one person he could be truly vulnerable with. Your relationship with Coriolanus was the envy of many in academy, a seemingly perfect match of two souls intertwined by fate and affection. You were the golden couple, a shining example of love and devotion in a world that often lacked both.
But you wished you had known sooner that it's often the things we love most that destroy us, as Coriolanus Snow's world was about to collide with that of a girl named Lucy Gray and you were not ready for it to happen.
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As the day of the tribute's arrival approached, you had been by Coriolanus's side more than ever. The weeks leading up to this moment had been filled with your unwavering support. You had reassured him countless times, sitting together in your cozy bedroom, his head resting gently on your thighs while you combed your fingers through his soft blonde curls. It was a calming gesture, one that had become a comforting routine. You listened to his concerns, his fears, and his ambitions, and you were sure that everything would be fine, that he would be just perfect as a mentor, and that his scholarship and dreams of continuing his studies at the university were within reach.
Your words were like a soothing melody to him, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this daunting new role. He would look into your eyes with his cold ones, filled with gratitude, and you could see the weight lifting from his shoulders, if only temporarily. And in those moments, you felt like his anchor, the one who kept him grounded amid the chaos of his own thoughts.
Now, you both stood at the nearly deserted train station, the oppressive heat of the day hanging heavily in the air. The scorching sun beat down relentlessly, casting shimmering waves of heat across the empty platform. It seemed that most of the Capitol's citizens had chosen to stay indoors, seeking refuge from the sweltering weather.
The only other souls present were a handful of stoic peacekeepers, their pristine white uniforms stark against the dull backdrop of the station. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond, a reminder of the bustling Capitol life that lay just outside the station's borders.
Coriolanus tightly held a single white rose plucked from his grandmother's garden, a symbol of his intent to make a lasting impression on his tribute. It was a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of your academy uniforms. The simplicity of the white rose spoke of his sincerity and dedication to this new role as mentor.
With no clear timetable for the tribute train's arrival, the two of you stood patiently, pretending that the day's weather didn't bother you, the weight of uncertainty hanging over you like a heavy cloud. Coriolanus shifted his gaze between the tracks and the single white bloom in his hand.
You observed him closely, and when his gaze finally met yours, you offered a reassuring smile. “Remember, Coryo,” you murmured, “no matter what, you'll be the mentor she needs; your sincerity and kindness will shine through.”
“I hope you're right, Y/N,” he replied softly, his voice filled with a hint of doubt. “I need her to survive on the arena as long as she can,” he added, as if the idea of a group of vulnerable youths engaging in brutal competition in just a few days were the most ordinary occurrence in the world.
But that was precisely what it represented for the Capitol residents – the Hunger Games, an annual spectacle of entertainment.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly under the unrelenting sun, and the station remained eerily devoid of any signs of life. It felt as though hours had passed, but in truth, you couldn't be sure. Beads of perspiration formed on your brows, and you could feel the heat radiating from the platform's surface.
You and Coriolanus were on the verge of giving up and returning to the cool embrace of your penthouses when, at long last, the distant rumble of an oncoming train reached your ears. The sound grew steadily louder, and you looked at each other, exchanging tired glances.
Coriolanus's grip on the white rose tightened as he turned his gaze towards the approaching train. As he rose from the bench where you had sat, his anticipation peaked. You stood beside him, wanting to be his support, but you had no idea that your role was about to change very soon.
The train pulled into the station with a hiss of steam and the screech of brakes, billowing clouds of moisture and smoke into the scorching air. The two of you watched the machine in silent, your heart pounding in your chest. This was the moment when you would come face to face with people from the Districts, individuals whose lives were so far removed from the opulence and extravagance of your own. It was a rare and humbling experience, one that left you with a slight quiver in your step as you clung to Coriolanus, seeking solace in his reassuring presence.
For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened. The train's doors remained sealed shut, as if holding its cargo of tributes in a reluctant embrace. The only thing that reached you was an unpleasant stench wafting from the carriages, a stark reminder of the grim reality that these young souls were about to face.
Finally the impatient peacekeepers took matters into their own hands. They descended upon the train, their authoritative presence enough to scare the tributes out of their temporary sanctuary. One by one, they were herded onto the platform, their expressions ranging from fear to defiance.
And then, your eyes locked onto a figure unlike the others. A girl stood there, her presence a stark contrast to the muted palettes of others tributes. She wore a rainbow-colored dress that shimmered with vibrancy, a flare of color and individuality amidst the sea of old attire. You recognized her immediately from the television screens, a girl whose name had already become a part of your daily life even before this encounter.
Lucy Gray Baird.
The very name whispered in the hushed tones of Capitol citizens as they watched her on the screens, intrigued and fascinated by her enigmatic presence from the Reaping. Her gaze swept across the platform, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked onto each other's.
You couldn't help but break into a warm, welcoming smile. With a cheerful wave of your hand, you signaled to her that both you and Coriolanus were eagerly awaiting her arrival, hoping to ease the initial tension of this life-altering moment.
Lucy Gray's response was a hesitant yet appreciative smile in return. Her steps were slow and cautious as she walked slowly toward you, a palpable sense of curiosity radiated from her, her eyes flitting between the unfamiliar faces that lined the platform.
Your gaze briefly shifted to Coriolanus, a subtle expectation in your heart that his eyes would mirror the warmth you felt. But when you looked at him, you noticed something different. It was as if his eyes were magnetically drawn to Lucy Gray, locked onto her with a nearly unwavering intensity that bordered on fixation. Those eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now held an expression you had never quite seen before. It was as though he had stumbled upon a priceless museum exhibit, left captivated, awestruck, and undeniably intrigued.
A soft, knowing smile played at the corners of your lips, silently acknowledging his reaction to the girl before you. You gently squeezed his hand, a gesture of affection and solidarity. You understood that this moment bore immense significance for him, that he was on the corner of a journey filled with unforeseen challenges. Lucy Gray was the keynote of this new chapter in his life, and you couldn't help but admire her from a distance, captivated by her unique presence and the aura that surrounded her.
Before you could utter a word, Coriolanus took a determined step forward, his eyes still locked on the girl. He extended his hand, offering her the pristine white rose he had clutched throughout the wait and with a subtle nod, he greeted her in a tone that resonated with formality and welcome.
“Welcome to the Capitol.”
part two »
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3hks · 5 months
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How to Write an IMPACTFUL Backstory
Honestly, writing and reading about backstories is probably one of my favorite parts of a character's story! It's a strong foundation for a character's goals, motives, thoughts, and actions! Its most powerful effect, on the other hand, is its ability to change one's view on a character. So, then, how do we write such an impactful past?
For beginners, the more tragic the backstory, the better. While this does hold some truth, let me re-iterate that it's for beginners. The idea behind it is that a pure, devastatingly pitiful backstory is unique and pulls at your reader's heartstrings. Unfortunately, instead, we're left with an origin story that feels superficial, overly-dramatic, unnecessary, and shallow. However in this post, I will give you some tips on how to avoid creating such 2D backgrounds and actually bring your character's past to life!
First, your character's backstory can be made with whatever components you choose, but the key is that you must balance them out correctly. Additionally, the majority of the time, you do want their story to stick out, so I suggest trying to come up with something original! It's much harder than it sounds, but honestly, every other protagonist has dead parents at this point. Be creative, add details, and don't be afraid to let your character go through things if you feel that it's fitting!
Second, don't extend their past for too long. The point of introducing the backstory is to elaborate on a (few) certain event(s) that affected your character the most and forever changed their lives. Keep it centered around one, or at most, a couple events.
Next, most writers tend to use sadness and/or to fuel the character, but it should not be overbearing and excessive. Alternatively, it should feel GENUINE. Not dramatic, but genuine. Different genres do form different types of backstories, yes, but the core concept behind it should be something natural. It should be something that your readers will be able to understand; something authentic. They should feel some sense of relatability, even if it's just a little. This could be like family issues, broken friendships, betrayals, leaving someone, mental struggles, loneliness, etc. Complexity can surround these concepts, but the basic, fundamental ideas should still be present.
Furthermore, be sure that their backstory makes sense. Even if you're introducing it through quick, brief flashbacks, ultimately, you want the reader to have all the pieces to solve the puzzle.
Last but not least, make your backstory feel personal to your character! Build it in a sense that if it were to go to any other character, it wouldn't have an effect that's as severe. Make it targeted to its owner. While this is something that can be difficult to execute, it really provides insight to your character, and is an easy way to add some intricacy to a simple backstory! A good place to start is thinking about the things personal to your character. For instance, this could be their past before the event, people they care about, their morals, etc. Then, add it in said event so that it pushes and/or challenges your character in a way that makes them re-evaluate that value.
There you go! Here are my personal tips on how to upgrade your character's backstory and have it really impact your reader! Be creative, keep it centered around a couple things, make it genuine, and make it targeted to the character!
Happy writing~
3hks <3
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hopeastrz · 4 months
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𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒🪷 *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫/𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 + 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭.
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𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 may indicate having a serious spouse, disciplined, neat and works hard to make fortune for his family, you’ll have a stable and long marriage due to saturn influence, but there will be many lessons to learn along the way.
𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 are born to be mothers, you can’t convince me otherwise, they just have this caring aura around them that resembles a hug!.
𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 especially 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐧/𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 I’ve seen or talked too always tend to be over thinkers, and i know that this might’ve been said before but it’s really one of their prominent traits, they are usually 25/8 nervous and they tend to be a bit perfectionistic.
Having 𝟏𝟏°, 𝟐𝟑° 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭 tells you where you may be original or a trendsetter.
𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝟏𝟏°,𝟐𝟑° your ideas, your voice may be unique, if you’re an author or just like writing in general you tend to create unique literature pieces that are considered quite creative.
𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝟏𝟏°, 𝟐𝟑° your style is original, what you wear, makeup you apply on your face, or even perfumes you buy may be quite underrated or unique etc..
Having 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟖°, 𝟐𝟎° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 may indicate going through many transformations with your friendships, they are always unstable, changing and evolving, also you may be the type to change personalities and sacrifice lots of things for your friends, please be careful and don’t get way too attached.
Having 𝐧𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞, 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟏𝟐°, 𝟐𝟒° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 may indicate always attracting relationships with people that are calm, like serene or just way too quiet (one may even say secretive) on the outside but freakiest people to exist on the inside, one of my friends has this placement and her boyfriend barley speaks when he’s around us, but when he calls her and thinks we can’t hear him let me tell you.. that man becomes a whole different person, its kinda fascinating to be honest, neptune illusionary influence doesn’t fail to impress me.
𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 are hot as hell, both figuratively and well… literally no like they need to chill please calm down a bit you guys are really really fiery, always on your feet and ready to throw hands if someone angers you, seems cliché i know but it’s the truth.
𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 is one of my favorite placements to have, and i believe that it indicates fame and having a very beautiful spouse, also a very ethereal beauty.
I also noticed something a weird pattern on a whim but why does 𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 tend to work on medical fields and 𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 may excel quite well in companies, relations and business in general.
𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐧>>>>>>> that’s it.
If they have earth placements combined with fire placements you won at life.
I have 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝟏𝟓° 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞, many people have told me that my voice is soothing and beautiful, i also love singing!.
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reverieblondie · 3 months
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Late Night Dip
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Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Fingering, Tail play, Teasing, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (Please wrap before you tap), G-whiz Position.
Summary: Cal and Lia are worried about their brother, he's just so stressed and needs a break! Good thing you have an idea that could help...
A/N: Rolan is hot, and I'm not going to apologize. I want to give him everything. More fics of my other favorite fictional men coming soon!
Word Count: 4,774
“Please, you have to get him out of that tower! You're the only one who he will listen to!” 
You almost spit out your drink from Cal’s comment and look at him bewildered, “Uh, You must be confused you're talking about Rolan? Mr. Know it all? The arch workaholic? He's not going to listen to me.” 
Lia leans against the bar dramatically, “Could you just give it a try, please? We have tried everything we could think of to get him to take some time off to destress but nothing has worked. We are hoping that because he has a soft spot for you he will listen to you.”
A scoff leaves you, “Rolan does not have a soft spot for me…” 
Lia and Cal share a quick look before Cal speaks up again. 
“Just one try, for his health. I swear every time I’m near him I can feel his tension radiate off him, take him out somewhere so he can unwind, and if he rejects you I will buy your drinks for two weeks.” 
Closing your eyes you consider the chore. Seeing Rolan isn’t a bad thing you love getting any excuse to see that handsome face. Though pulling him from his work would not be an easy feat, but…you do enjoy teasing him, those looks he gives you when you get under his skin always sends a rush of heat to rise to your cheeks. Plus if he is overworking himself you can’t let that happen to your favorite wizard (sorry Gale). Maybe this would be a good push to your friendship to move to more…romantical areas….plus there was that spot you wanted to take him and tonight is as good of a time as any. If all else fails and Rolan heartbreakingly rejects you for a night outing at least you will get free drinks for the next two weeks to wash away the pain.
“Okay, I will handle it, but be ready to have to buy a lot of ale for the next two weeks Cal,” you say as you gather your stuff and step towards the doors. Cal and Lia watch as you walk out of the tavern into the night towards Ramazith Tower. 
“Think there's a chance he will reject her and we will have to deal with a tense Rolan?” Cal asks Lia worriedly. 
Lia scoffs and settles herself on a seat at the bar, “Please, Rolan can’t deny her, and even if he wants to pretend he can, do you think she’s going to take no for an answer?” 
“Those two are really into each other huh?” 
“Yeah, Let's hope one of them finally realizes it and does something about it tonight. I have a bet with Larkissa that Tav makes the first move, and I want my 50 gold.”
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Wow, they were right…he looks so stressed.
Your eyes watch as Rolan's taut back stays hunched over the journal he is scribbling in as he studies an old-looking tome. The only part that moves on him is his hand and he writes in a frantic motion. His golden eyes peering at the tome then back to his journal as he continues, it's clear he has been at this for a while. 
Leaning against the doorway you study his profile for a bit longer. Hair was done in its elaborate bun to hide his ears, brows underneath his well-kept horns furrowed in irritation, and the most perfect nose in all of Faerûn. Let's see if we can’t get him to scrunch it in irritation. 
“And what happened to the master of Ramaziths Tower? Worked so hard he died from stress, he was so young…” 
Rolan seems surprised for a moment before he turns his head to see your smug grin, this earns you an eye roll,  “What happened to the Hero of Baldur's Gate? Oh, she pushed her luck too many times and was thunder waved out of Ramazith's Tower.” 
Sontering in you wave him off dismissively, “See you're so tired you're unable to come up with your own insults. That means it’s time you take a break.” 
Scoffing, he turns away from you going back to scribbling away, “You sound like Cal and Lia…” 
“They did send me to get you.”
“Of course they did” 
Getting closer you see the swarm of papers and books he’s been busying himself with, ignoring it all you sit on his desk and look down at him as he writes. He seems to look at your legs for a moment before shaking his head and going back to what he was writing. Usually, he would be nagging you about your poor manners and the fact that you are bothering him, must be too tired to fight. You watch him as he slowly starts up his work again trying to ignore your ass so close to his hands crushing his papers. His nose is starting to scrunch and you can only smile with a sweet taunting hum. Crossing your legs gets his attention one more time before he mumbles something to himself. 
“Work, work, work, write, write, write, Rot, rot, rot” you chant in a sing-song voice as you shake your foot bumping him slightly.  
“Must you annoy me?” he grumbles
“You're just annoyed because you're so pent up with stress, come on let's go out.” 
Rolan looks up at you and furrows his brows, nose still scrunched, “I’m annoyed because of everyone constantly pestering me when I have a thousand things to do. I’m not going anywhere and I am not…pent up…” 
You let out a loud sigh, “Oh come on Rolan you're so pent up with stress you could pop, just a small break, a nice stress-free night will do you some good, then we will leave you alone to be the great grump of Ramaziths. Plus I have something I want to show you that I found the other day.” 
Rolan keeps his head down scribbling, “It will be really fun.” you coo
He continues to ignore you. You frown before leaning down to his ear. “Please…” you whisper softly
Rolan stops his writing and groans. 
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“Come on Rolan! Just a bit further!” 
“Where the hells are you taking me!” 
“It's a surprise! Now hurry up!” 
You're both running in the forest outside of the gate, you're ahead of him leading the way but you can hear the snapping of twigs and slight infernal cusses as he tries to keep up. You can't help but laugh as he continues his grumpy pursuit. Finally, you reach your destination with a bright smile on your face as you wait for Rolan to emerge from the thicket. Biting your lip in expectation you bounce on the heels of your feet, this will be perfect…
You had found this place on one of your walks and knew that you would have to come back, and bringing Rolan only made it all the better. A secret hot spring is hidden away in the thick forest, perfect for two. The water looks as if it glows a cyan blue, it seems to glitter underneath the full moonlight. Your eyes watch as the steam from the water rises to the vast starlit sky. This will be perfect for relieving stress. 
Finally, you hear him come into the clearing, his once pristine appearance is now a mess with twigs in his now messy hair and robes covered in dirt from where he must have fallen trying to keep up with you. The smile on your face never falters and he approaches you with an unamused look. He looks past you at the heated water and raises an eyebrow.
“A hot spring? You know if you wanted to bathe…” 
Rolan's words halt as you start loosening the strings of your bodice. Looking up you meet his golden eyes and smirk at his surprised face as you drop your bodice to the ground. His eyes widen and his lips slightly part before he turns away quickly. 
“Come on Rolan, a late night dip under the stars. You can’t beat that. Plus I bet once that water hits your skin all your stress will melt away.”
You start stripping off your undershirt quickly followed by your pants. Your eyes watch Rolan's back as it seems to tense at each sound of your clothes rustling and falling. His tail whips around seemingly uncontrollably, before wrapping around his leg, you're still trying to figure out if it is from excitement or irritation.  
“You have been traveling with Halsin for too long…” 
You laugh at the comment, “Well, he is rather wise, learned a lot from him while on our journey…”
Rolan's tail twitches before he turns around quickly to face you. His eyes widen as he sees your scantily clad undergarments, not like you went and changed before going to fetch him…
He turns back around quickly “Like what…” he mutters, is he? Jealous… 
“Just…things…” you say almost tauntingly. You just can’t resist, from the moment you two started becoming friends you two have been taunting and teasing at every opportunity.  Sometimes you don’t know if you want to punch him or kiss him. Though now…you can only think of one thing…
Taking off your undergarments and then by complete ‘accident’ you toss them towards his feet. He looks down at them for a second before you watch his tail rise slightly before falling back down and lifting his head to look up at the starry sky. 
“I’ve learned things from my other companions as well…”  you say softly, almost too sweetly
A nervous laugh seems to rise harshly from his chest. Slowly you approach Rolan, you're being extremely quiet and you're completely bare. “Like Astarion for example” Right behind him now you look up at his tightly set bun, and with a quick moment you pluck the tie keeping it up out, That should loosen him some, “taught me to sneak up on people to take things.”
Rolan starts to turn his head but seems to stop himself remembering you're now naked. Not that you would mind his golden eyes taking you all in. With his hair now down you finally see his sharply pointed ears, they are cute and with their marron coloring at the tips completely giving away how embarrassed he is at the moment. Part of you wants to take the opportunity to be naughty and nibble on his ear while playing with his loose hair. Best not to push your luck however.  
Proud of successfully teasing him you decide to finally get into the water. Stepping carefully into the calm water the heat craseing your skin immediately relaxes you. The water is the perfect temperature and you quickly sink in and swim around enjoying yourself with pleasant sighs. Turning your head you see Rolan watching with what you think is a smile on his face.  
“Come on in, the water is great!”
“Dry land is also great.” 
“So you're just going to let me swim alone?” you watch as Rolan thinks for a moment “It's very relaxing…” you coo 
He finally sighs, “Fine…just to make sure you don’t drown out here…” 
“Lucky me ~”
Instead of ripping his clothes off quickly and jumping into the water ready to confess his desires to you as you hoped, Rolan instead brings his hands to undo his collar slowly and methodically. Somehow the slow stripping is not only frustrating you but also exciting you, the robe rolls off his shoulders and he takes the time to fold it up neatly. A tightening in your lower stomach is driving you mad, how hard is it to undress quickly? 
Opening your mouth to give him a hard time your comment gets halted in your throat. Rolan lifts his red undershirt over his head exposing his chest lined with beautiful ridges. The ridges seem to lead your eyes along his surprisingly athletic build, the moonlight shining on his body showing off just how toned he is; tense muscles being stretched as he raises his arms to relieve some tension from being so confined. He’s been hiding all this under those robes? That's just criminal…
Then his hands go for his belt and you're completely caught in a trance mouth slightly parting as he undoes the first button, seeming to remember your presence in the shining spring his golden eyes lock with yours and all your previous nerve leaves as your heart lurches. Quickly you turn around breaking his gaze, you swear you hear a slight chuckle before the clearing of his throat. Closing your eyes you chastise yourself for being a pervert, but that still doesn’t stop the image of his bare body replaying over and over in your mind running through all the possibilities the night could hold.  
Sounds of sloshing water along with a sigh breaks you from your thoughts. Turning you can’t help but smile at what looks like a very blushy Rolan, feeling nice you give him a round of applause as he settles in the warm water.
Rolan rolls his eyes, “Your an idiot” 
“What, I thought you liked adoring applause?” 
Rolan ignores your comment, shaking his head as he cups the shimmering water in his hands. You take the time to admire him trying to relax the best he can, his loose hair hovering softly over his shoulders, you see that not only do his freckles decorate his face, but they are also peppered against his tense shoulders. With a quick motion, Rolan brings the spring water towards his face, rubbing the water against his face then keeping his hands over his eyes for a long moment. You watch him confused by him keeping his eyes covered.  
“What are you doing?” 
A sigh leaves his nose before he responds, “Relaxing”
Getting closer you do a testing poke to his left shoulder, and an irritated groan leaves his chest. 
“You don’t seem relaxed…” 
“I’m working on it.”
“Maybe you should try swimming around then?”
Rolan pulls his hands from his eyes, golden irises glow as his ardent gaze lands on you. Suddenly you're hyper-aware of how close you two have drifted and how bare you are right underneath the cyan water. All your previous nerve starts to sink away being replaced by a growing flush to your skin. 
Rolan lifts a brow leaning down slightly to take in your face, you put on your best poker face to seem unbothered through Rolan quickly sees past it and is ready to tease you, “Heat finally getting to you?” 
“No”
“Then why are you so red?” 
“Why are you so red?” 
Rolan folds his arms over his chest and you roll your eyes, “redder than usual” 
“What do you expect? It’s hot.” 
“Aren't tieflings like…heat resistant?” 
Rolan goes to argue back but he seems to be unable to think of anything so he turns his back towards you muttering under his breath. 
Turned away, you trace the paths left by his infernal ancestors. He seemed to have relaxed when teasing you, but now…
“You can feel the tension radiating off….” 
Rolan's ears seem to perk up and he glances at you. 
You sigh, “I was hoping to help…”
“I…you…” Rolan sighs collecting his thoughts, a cuss slips his lips before he starts again, “You are helping…I just…” Rolan takes his hand to cover his eyes again, “I don’t know how to let myself relax…” 
Carefully you reach your hands to rub his back, he practically feels like a board, so tense under your fingers. You lean your head to rest on him.
“Rolan, let me…try something….” 
You continue to rub his back and shoulders gently working out the knots. Right as he seems to start to relax he tenses up again. A soft hum leaves you as you continue to work down his back. Dropping from his shoulders you use his ridges to guide you, softly you rub his shoulder blades feeling the sharp tips. When you touch them you feel Rolan tense and lean forward slightly. 
“Am I hurting you?” 
Rolan looks over his shoulder, his eyes moving from your flushed shoulders following the drips running back into the cloudy water keeping the rest of you hidden, only enough for his imagination to run wild. “No, I’m just…not used to being touched like this.” 
“I could stop…”
You keep your hands on his spine, trying to savor this moment in case he says yes. You close your eyes and keep your hands as gentle as possible hoping he won't say yes, that he won’t move away. Just keeping this moment touching his warm skin for a bit longer…
“Don’t stop…it's helping me” 
Biting down the smile on your lips you continue to rub his back blindly moving through the water. Over time you get lower slightly rubbing above the base of his tail. A steady sigh leaves Rolan's chest as you continue to work. You even feel all your nerves starting to settle in this perfect moment, then suddenly a wrapping around your calf startles you enough to let out a yipe. Rolan, snapping back to reality goes to retreat his tail and move away from you, but before he can run away you quickly grab his wrist. He pauses for a second, then he turns towards you, your eyes wide, lips trembling for the words to say.  
It only takes a moment before Rolan pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you suddenly and burying his face into the crook of your neck. 
“I’m sorry…” 
“D-don’t be…” 
Rolan moves his face from your neck and you feel your body heating up as his shining eyes watch you, slowly roaming from your eyes to your glossy lips, then down to where your chest is pressing against his. 
Rolan's eyes linger for a moment before he brings his head down to whisper, “You feel like you're burning up…” 
All you can do as you feel his clawed hands moving slowly down your back is nod and lean into him further. Touching him now he seems much more relaxed, more open, confident. Right as you're settling yourself on his chest you whisper the words he’s been waiting to hear. 
“Kiss me…” 
Quickly you feel his hand lifting your chin and then meeting your lips for an almost too eager kiss, but you had been wanting this equally as bad. Rolan's lips are soft and assertive as he leads you through the kiss. The familiar feeling of his tail sliding up your leg no longer draws a gasp from you but a wanting moan, craving for his warmth to further engulf you. Rolan, always striving for more, lifts your arms to wrap around his neck as he slips his smooth tongue in your mouth to get a taste of you. It's deep, and teasing as it slides against yours making you meet his enthusiasm, and driving you to want more. Before long you find yourself with fist fulls of his loose hair while his sharp nails dig into the fat of your ass, Pressing you into his hardened shaft, it practically throbs on your thigh. 
As you start breaking from the kiss to fully catch your breath Rolan bites on your lower lip, careful not to break the delicate skin, only enough pressure to have you whine before he’s releasing it from his sharp teeth. You're a panting mess feeling like your body is on fire, the spring, his hot touch, your blazing arousal dripping down your thighs; it's all starting to be too much for you. Rolan brushes his nose to yours to bring you back from your fuzzing mind. 
“I think it's time you get out. You're as red as me now.” his rich voice taunts 
A quick laugh leaves you before it’s ripped from you abruptly. Rolan almost as quickly as he kisses you, he lifts you guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. With shocking little effort, Rolan carries you out of the hot spring back to the dry bank. The sudden chill of the air nipping at your skin should leave you shivering, but wrapped in Rolan's warm limps you find yourself perfectly comfortable. 
Playfully you twist and pull the strains of his soft hair. “Not to sound like an insult but I’m surprised you're able to carry me. I didn’t think wizards were all that strong?” 
You're both out of the water, dripping on the springs bank still wrapped tightly in his hold. Rolan rolls his eyes at your statement before responding with a smirk, “Well you should know that no wizard can match me, from my talent to my strength.” 
It’s your turn to roll your eyes now and as you do he bounces you within his arms forcing you to grab him tighter making him laugh at you.
“Well, you are definitely relaxed now.” 
“I am, I should thank you, Hero.” 
You feel yourself getting wetter from his sultry words, “How do you plan on doing that, Archmage?
His eyes spark with something and he grins allowing you to see his sharp canines and molars, “I’m thinking I’m going to fuck you on the bank of this hot spring. Is that what you want?” 
Leaning in you breathe into his pointed ears, “Yes…” 
Then in the next moment, you feel his lips leaving messy kisses over your neck causing you to hold on tighter as Rolan slowly lowers you to the cool ground. The chill of the forest floor on your back makes a shiver rush your spine causing your nipples to perk and your body to shake. A whine leaves your chest and a smile stretches to his lips as he pulls away from you, his shining eyes roam over your body as he carefully moves his hands to your hips and adjusts to a kneel. Slightly digging in his nails, he pulls your body causing his length to brush your slick sex. 
The heat of his cock pressed on your soft flesh makes you shut your eyes with a whimper, he’s not even in you, and your whining. 
“Keep your eyes on me.” his voice commands as his hands lift your legs onto his textured shoulders. 
Finally opening your eyes you see his eyes watching you as he presses a kiss to your inner knee before taking a quick nip to it causing your hips to buckle forward. 
That only feeds his ego, “Don’t tell me you're sensitive…” 
You narrow your eyes, “if you were underneath me I would have you whimpering, so don’t get cocky.” 
Rolan lets out a laugh as he looks down at your spread sex, wet and quivering for him. You can hear his tail begging to swish behind in excitement. 
“We will have to test that on a different night…You look too perfect spread open and waiting for me.” Rolan taunts as he brings his hand to slide his fingers over your glistening cunt, then rubbing slow circles to your swollen clit. 
The sensation of his dexterous fingers stimulating your bud causes you to grind your hips on him for more. Falling deeper into the pleasure you feel your lower stomach twist as waves of heat flood your body. You can’t help but shut your eyes with a shivering breath as soft moans slip through your lips. 
Rolan tsk as he suddenly pinches your clit making you gasp and shoot your eyes open.  “Keep your eyes on me. Understand?” 
You quickly nod, keeping your eyes on his gorgeous face. His fingers slide to your entrance, slipping his middle finger slowly to rub your soft fluttering walls. Watching you intensely he slips in a second finger curling the long digits in your velvety insides. Moans of his name and pleads flow out of your lips as he keeps a steady tempo. 
“You're being so obedient…that's new for you…” 
You open your mouth to say something, but before you can Rolan twists his fingers to the spot that's making you see stars. Rolan seeing your slack jaw expression speeds up his motions. The twisting in your lower stomach gets tighter and tighter as you look at Rolan with pleading eyes. Seeing your expression and feeling your walls clamping down on him, he knows you're closer and he brings his tail to flick on your clit as his other hand keeps your grinding hips in a firm hold. 
You are panting as you dig your fingers into the ground you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap. Rolan's eyes are on you, staring intensely as he studies every one of your expressions, he looks divine. 
“F-Feels so-so good!” You scream breathlessly 
He smiles at your stammering, getting excited from your praise. “Yeah? Then cum for me.” 
Nodding absently mindlessly you feel his tail flick faster and his fingers curl deeper so perfectly making your coil suddenly snap and your body explode in a wave of white-hot ecstasy as you feel yourself squirt on his fingers, running down his hands and thighs now. 
 “Prefect…” Rolan whispers as he watches you come down from your high while slowly rubbing your release over his swollen cock. 
“You want more?” he asks as he lines himself up to your tight slit. 
“Please~” You hum out blissfully, feeling his ridged length’s heat radiating onto you. 
Rolan chuckles with a shake of his head, “So greedy…” 
He braces his hand tightly on your hip as he pushes the heat of his dick into your cunt. It’s hot and intense as it slides and stretches you. Your walls clench as you moan his name as his ridges rub your insides deliciously. Your thighs tighten as he pushes into you fully, his nails digging into you as his cock throbs as you adjust to him. 
“Gods you feel good” he sighs in pleasure. He moves his eyes from where he’s buried within you to your blissed-out face. Rolan brings a hand to cup your cheek and you melt into his touch, turning your face to kiss his palm before giving him a nod that you are ready. 
Rolan presses kisses on the insides of your legs again as he brings his hands to your waist. Slowly he starts positioning into you, your eyes roll back as his strokes nudge his burning cock right into your spongy spot that's making you mew shamelessly at every thrust. Rolan picks up his thrusting as he feels your walls clenching on him. 
“You're taking-ta-taking me so well darling.” he groans, throwing his head back as his balls slap against you. 
Rolan moves your hips up and down to match his thrust as his breathing quickens. Squirming and curling your toes you feel yourself approaching your climax again, but this time you're desperate to have Rolan cum with you. 
Rocking your hips against him faster you drive him deeper as his cock now rubs your cervix and your walls lick his ridges.  “Rolan, you're amazing! Fantastic! I’m yours whenever you want me! Fuck! Right there!” 
Rolan’s sweating skin further flushes at your praise and his moans turn into broken whines as he fucks you faster and bounces you at the perfect pace. 
With a couple more thrusts that familiar rush floods you as you arch your back mindlessly screaming as you make a mess over Rolan's cock. With your orgasm quivering and sucking him in he stills and squeezes you tightly as his dick throbs and spurts his burning cum deep within you. Stars slowly fade from your vision as you focus on a panting Rolan still buried deep in you. 
With hooded eyes you give a lazy smile, Rolan eyes are glazed over but still focused on you as he smiles back at you. Slowly he pulls out and you wince at the feeling of the sudden emptiness. Rolan settles beside you and carefully holds you to his chest as his tail wraps around your ankle gently. 
“Rest with me for a while…then come back to the tower with me.” 
You hum in agreement as you let your relaxed state move you to one of sleep. Perfectly warm and perfectly relaxed wrapped in each other's arms. 
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Larkissa is busy drying the goblets behind the bar to prepare for tonight's service. A tapping of nails on the counter gets her attention away from the task. She turns her head to see a smirking Lia. 
“A bet is a bet and I want my 50 gold,” Lia says, holding out her hand. 
Larkissa huffs and digs in her pockets, She will have to scold Rolan for not being assertive enough to make the first move.
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saekkas · 1 year
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𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔
summary: michael kaiser is a coward who needs a little incentive to finally confess his feelings towards you.
tags: f!reader, roommates to lovers, fluff, falling in love, kissing (more like, making out), jealousy, mutual pinning, possessive kaiser.
wc: 1.7k
notes: i do not know what possessed me into writing this, but man, it needs to do it again.
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something you've realized early on in your friendship with kaiser is that he's a coward.
he hates spiders, makes you throw the trash out at night, and screams whenever something falls out of its place because he thinks the apartment is haunted.
in the year that you've spent as his roommate, you've come to terms with it. he's nice, cleans his dishes, and helps with the laundry. he keeps the noise down to a minimum and cooks you breakfast when he isn't preoccupied with practice.
another perk of living with him is the fact that he buys you things, expensive things. perfume. flowers. the dress you were eyeing online. your favorite snacks. a limited edition plushy you've been wanting since forever.
anything.
you realized early on that michael kaiser is rude to other people, scoffing and smirking as if he's above everyone else. he mutters comments about them under his breath, thinking you can't hear. he bosses people around, looking at them like they're ants. a waste of his time.
he isn't like that with you.
for one, he's sweet. if the gift giving isn't enough, he goes out of his way to seek you out after his matches. he asks for massages, for small pecks and fleeting touches. he video calls you when he's away, never forgetting to wish you a good morning and sweet dreams through voice notes. all with a grin on his lips.
you aren't blind. you know those are his ways of expressing affection. you just wish he'd finally man up and admit his feelings.
"so, how was the date?"
kaiser's sitting on the couch of your living room, remote control in hand as he stares at the tv, some random soccer match showing across the screen. his hair is wet, and he's got his glasses on. his posture is relaxed, seemingly nonchalant as he asks the question.
you know him enough to see him gritting his teeth even through his bored expression.
"good evening to you too," you laugh, airy as you take off your heels. putting them next to the door, you drop your keys in the sage bowl, letting them clink against his. "have dinner yet?"
leaning against the door, you can see the fine lines of his shoulder tense. the kaiser you're used to is a show pony, the person sitting on your couch isn't. he almost looks like a stranger with his neutral expression and bored eyes. such a difference to the guy who usually comes running whenever you walk through the entrance.
"i ordered takeout." he motions to the plates littered around him, pointing at the fridge. "i saved you some of your favorites."
internally, you flutter. happy to know that the kaiser you know, and love, isn't completely gone.
"thank you, that's very sweet of you."
he's adamant on keeping his eyes off you and on the screen, his shoulders becoming even more tense as you open your arms wide.
"no hug for today?" there's a hopeful smile on your lips as you say the words. happy to finally have everything the way they should be.
only to be shut down with a single side eye from him.
"what?" he asks lowly, almost conceding in his words. almost like your presence bothers him, like all those other people do. like you aren't special to him anymore. "did your date dump you? and now you're looking to me for comfort?"
the words are icy, and he gives no room for rebuttals. not when he looks at you with a quirked eyebrow and a cocky smirk.
it's the first time he's used his persona on you. one he uses to hide away from the world. you decide that you hate it.
"no. actually, he was sweet," you bite back, glaring when you decide that enough is enough. "asked to hold my hand and carry me on his back."
you watch as his face darkens, his eyes clouding over until you can't recognize the pretty blue color they usually spark in. you're riling him up, making him angry. and it's working.
"why? jealous?"
it's the question you've been dying to ask for months now. he flirts like you're more than friends, buys you gifts like you're something special to him, shuts down every time you go on a date with someone that isn't him.
but when it comes down to it, you not his to have. not when he's too much of a coward to do anything about it.
"and if i am?" his words surprise you. it's the first time he's come close to revealing his true feelings in months. they're said with an underlying tone of anger, jealousy, and possessiveness. like you're already his and no one else's. "what's it to you?"
"oh, you know, just happy you're finally being a man and talking about your feelings."
you shouldn't have said that. with the way his eyes are practically glaring, you don't know what else to say. you look up when he stands, practically looming as he stalks to you.
"you're so-"
his words are interrupted by his cursing. he glares down at you, pushing his hand next to your head, pining you against the door. you gulp, watching as he practically shakes in anger.
"du machst mich wahnsinnig, liebling. ich glaube nicht, dass ich mich zurückhalten kann, wenn du weiterhin so eine göre bist."
translation: you're driving me mad, darling. i don't think i can hold back if you continue to be such a brat.
"he even asked to kiss me too," you say, your voice trembling under his dark gaze. your sweet and funny roommate is gone, replaced by the man you see in front of you. your heart is pounding against your chest, in both fear and excitement for what he'll do when you finally push him off the edge. "he-"
kaiser surges down, cutting your sentence off with a kiss.
your eyes widen when your head hits the door from his force. a shiver running down your spine when he lifts a hand, placing it on the back of your head, gently caressing the area. closing your eyes, you wrap your arms around his shoulder, kissing him back with just as much fervor.
he relaxes at that, pulling back slightly only to swoop back in, keeping you in his arms for as long as he wants. by the time he finally breaks the kiss, you're both leaning against each other.
you've never seen his eyes as happy as they are now.
"ich bin mir sicher, dass ich besser küsse als er," he says, smug as he takes in the way you're panting. he chuckles, placing his hands on the side of your neck to pull you into another kiss. "richtig, liebling?"
translation: i'm sure i kiss better than he does. right, darling?
"i don't know what you're saying but yes. okay. sure." you nod, head still hazy as his hands start to stroke your cheek. "if it's something bad, then no."
he chuckles, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips. he keeps you rooted in your spot, his eyes darting back between your eyes and your lips. "you're mine now, yeah? no one else gets to kiss you the way i did."
"about time," you say with a roll of your eyes when your breathing finally settles. you play with the hair around his shoulder, slightly tugging at the strands. "it went awful, by the way. he made me walk 3 kilometers because his car broke down."
his hands stop, freezing as he looks at you incredulously. "but you said-"
"i lied," you say with a cheeky grin. you lift yourself onto your tiptoes, placing a kiss on his cheek as an apology. "just wanted to see how you'd react."
you giggle when he groans, letting him settle in the crook of your neck. "you little minx. next time, call me. i'll pick you up and drop you off."
there's the kaiser you know and love.
"mihya." the nickname is odd on your lips, new and completely unrefined. you watch as he perks up, his eyes practically shining as he looks down at you. guess you'll just have to use the nickname on him more often from now on. "you're a terrible driver. you'd be picking me up at the mall and dropping us off at the gates of heaven."
"well, at least that means an angel will finally return home."
you smack his shoulder for that.
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bonus:
you're walking down the stairs of your university a few weeks later, laughing at something your friend said when the sound of squealing fills your ears.
a sleek black lamborghini sits right in front of you.
you blink, taking in the over-the-top showcase before your eyes land on the figure right beside it. you snort as kaiser winks at you from his spot, still taking his time to soak up the limelight.
"did you have to come all the way here to be a showoff?" you greet him with a kiss to his cheek that kaiser visibly grins at.
ever since getting together, he's been hogging you all to himself. he insists on driving you to and from wherever you need because your time together is worth everything to him. "you are so petty. making sure no one even thinks of asking me out on another date?"
"you like it." the way he says it is breathless, like it's a secret he's been keeping to himself for a long time. "you like me."
who knew michael kaiser turned out to be such a corny romantic?
you snort, tugging him into the car before he makes any more of a scene. "i do."
he grins at that, revving the engine as loud as he can, smirking when a group of freshmen cheer and wave to him from behind the car.
"good." he takes your hand, placing a kiss on the knuckles. he holds it as he backs out of the university and into the open street. "be prepared because i'm about to spoil you even more."
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yesimwriting · 4 months
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there's something about bestfriend!felix who has never had to restrain himself when it comes to feelings, who can't stand letting that much feeling just sit inside of him with nowhere to go.
he learns to hold it all in because feeling that deeply attached to one person isn't something he's used to, so it's a little confusing and hard to label, and maybe he's a little prone to commitment issues. but the main thing that keeps him from saying anything is the importance of the bond the two of you have created.
it's a kind of connection he's never had before, a trust and understanding that he's extremely protective of. so he doesn't say anything.
so he compromises with himself, allowing his affection to bleed into your friendship as much as the confines of a platonic relationship will allow. part of it is to satiate the need to be closer to you, and the rest of it is because he doesn't want anyone to think you're not his.
he's never been one to share, so he makes it as clear as he can that you're off limits.
when the two of you go out, he's even touchier than usual. some of it's the drinking and atmosphere, but most of it is because he can. you're close enough to leave giggly kisses against each other other's cheeks, hands, shoulders, necks. whatever's easiest to reach. he'll pull an arm around you to guide you through a crowded bar because you'll let him without hesitation.
and if felix catton constantly being all over you isn't enough to ward off every guy at oxford, he has nothing against appearing at your side and placing a hand around your waist. it doesn't matter if the guy is in the middle of a sentence or if you're saying something, you'll stop everything to immediately greet felix.
it's a subtle possessiveness that extends beyond just nights out. if you two are studying in the library with a group of friends, you're sitting next to him. if you're out to dinner with a group, he's mentioning inside jokes and topics of conversation that he knows you're interest in to make sure that he's your favorite.
if felix can't be your boyfriend, he's going to be your favorite person. he's not your friend, he's your best friend. a title that he makes sure to emphasize constantly. if you introduce him to someone as your friend, he's quick to teasingly correct you. thought i was your best friend.
he also uses the term to justify any hints of jealousy, and to get his way. if you're spending more time with a different friend (girl, boy, it doesn't matter), he's pouting a little when you finally do see him. if you notice and start expressing concern, he'll admit to it. "surprised you had time to notice anything about me." and when you're, rightfully, confused, he continues, "you're spending all your time with them, and i'm supposed to be your best friend."
sometimes, if its gone on for a significant amount of time, he'll start to think that maybe he's actually mad at you. it isn't fair, but felix can't help it. he'll do anything for you, and you're replacing him with someone that can't care about you the way he does.
but then you'll look at him, all wide eyed and exuding genuine shock at the thought of felix ever not being your best friend. you'll coddle him as much as he'll let you. he'll try to put up a hard exterior, but he's melting and letting it go almost immediately.
----
a short blurb to tide you all over and help me think through a request bc i wanted to finish writing it today but had to do a ton of homework instead <3
almost didn't post this bc the purpose of it was for me to work on characterization in a low stakes way after using up all of my mental but then decided why not!
a fuller, better developed version of this is coming soon 😭
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains
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nomazee · 8 months
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Silly little thing I thought of
Like like imagine dazai and the reader have been friends for years like the reader knew him since his 15 goofer era... and they got used to eachother sm they usually sleep in eachothers beds n stuff :3
LIKE SOMETHING IS GOING ON BUT THEY STILL HAVE THE FRIENDSHIP LABEL.. 🐺🤞
this concept stuck itself in my head like a tapeworm and it has not escaped me for days IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED i wrote SO MUCH for this omfg i had so much fun writing this thank u for this wonderful idea pairing: dazai x gn reader word count: 2.5k content: fluff, vignette-style writing, friends-to-lovers unspoken label type of thing, soft dazai, domestic fluff without the marriage bit, banter, idiots in love im taking requests!
===
Dazai’s toes are still as frigid at night as they were seven years ago. You, of all people, would be the best person to measure this—not in a weird way, but you two have shared a bed at least once a week since your teenage years. You know all of Dazai’s annoying sleeping habits, including his ones of sleeping without socks and digging his feet into your shins for warmth. 
Annoying fucker. You sigh, batting his arm away from its loose hold around your waist. “Get your toes off of me,” you croak out, half-conscious and mind still addled with the remains of your once-deep sleep.
“What toes,” Dazai mutters back, smacking your intervening hand away and returning his arm to its rightful place around you. “I don’t have toes. I got rid of them after puberty, ‘member?” 
“I’m gonna kill you.” You won’t, not really, and the threats have lost their edge after all these years, but it’s fun to throw at him when he annoys you like this. “I know all your weaknesses, Osamu. One wrong move and you’ll be missing more than just your toes.” 
“I’m cold, dear. Would you really let me freeze like this? So mean.” 
You try not to choke up at the nickname. He’s been a fan of those recently, at least in the last year. You think it has something to do with your new places at the Agency. New workplace, new life, and new nicknames, apparently. If you overthink it you might puke on him and fall back asleep. 
“Not cruel. We have money now, you know. Go buy yourself socks. Wool, or something. Stupid ass cold ass toes.”
He goes quiet. Even in all these years of knowing him, half-living with him, you can’t tell if it’s a normal lull in the conversation or a calculated pause. It doesn’t unnerve you as much as it used to, but there’s still a cold chill at the nape of your neck that springs up at times like these. 
“Why would I do that when I have you?” 
Dazai has also been a fan of this recently—strange uncharacteristic moments of tenderness. He peels himself back for you and bares himself raw. The implications make you nauseous. Swathed in the darkness of the night, he can’t see your fingers twitch from where they lay next to your head, away from his sight; or the conflicted expression that crosses your face. 
Easing your breath out into a steady, deep rhythm, you pretend to be asleep. It’s not like he can’t tell, but the message is there. Let’s not talk about this until the morning. Let’s just sleep for the night. Let’s keep what we have and not change it for the worse. 
==
At age eighteen, shaken with the death of his friend and haunted by blood stains on his fingers, Dazai defects from the mafia. 
He doesn’t take you with him—at least, he doesn’t mean to. He expects to leave quietly, or as quietly as blowing up Chuuya’s car can be. He doesn’t expect you to drag yourself along kicking and screaming. 
Dazai doesn’t remember much about specifics, but he knows that one day he was alone in his underground apartment and the next day you were there. The kitchen smelled like melted marshmallows and rice krispies and his dingy counter was covered in sprinkles. 
“Hi, Dazai,” you’d greeted conversationally. “I’m making your favorite.” 
He doesn’t even like rice krispie treats. Hates them, actually. 
In truth, your presence is less the result of you “kicking and screaming” and more like an after-effect of your own quiet stubbornness. Your kicking-and-screaming was done in the passive aggressive way that you cleaned his dishes and made his bed and left big trays of rice krispie treats in his fridge for the next week. 
Neither of you talked about Chuuya. It was better for you that way. 
On the first night, Dazai remembers you holding him from behind, forehead pressed into the stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder. He’s sensitive there despite being wrapped in his stupid scratchy bandaids. His memories for the rest of the night are overrun by a feeling of want, an itch to feel your fingers on his bare skin, a craving for your hand on his stomach to slide beneath the hem of his shirt and press into the tender skin of his abdomen and keep him warm.  
===
“Leave me alone,” you grumble from behind the sleeve of your jacket. “I’m napping.” 
“It’s not napping if you’re still awake.” 
“I wouldn’t be awake if it wasn’t for your annoying ass.” Rotating your body to face the ceiling from your place on the Agency’s couch, you sigh when your view is blocked by Dazai’s ugly stupid face. He’s smiling in that conniving way that he does when he’s about to do something super annoying. Another sigh escapes you when he leans down close enough for the overgrown ends of his hair to brush against your nose. The puff of air from your verbal discontent makes the strands sway slightly. You try not to think about how mesmerizing he looks when he’s this close, with the light from the window casting a golden sheen on the crown of his head. 
Since when did you get this sappy? Must be Dazai rubbing off on you, obviously. 
“So tired already! It’s barely noon.” 
“You came into work an hour ago. I’ve been here since eight. Try being responsible for a change, might exhaust you just as much.” 
“Hmm.” He tilts his head, big stupid shiny brown eyes blinking down at you like he’s observing a specimen. “I think I’m more than responsible enough.” 
“Sure,” you relent, turning back around to shove your face into the corner of the couch and block out the incoming light. It’s the truth—you’re exhausted. A persistent weariness permeates your bones from how much you’ve been working these last few weeks. It’s not like it’s anyone’s fault in particular, not even Dazai’s despite how much he slacks on paperwork. But looming threats from enemy organizations hang over everyone’s heads and there’s no shortage of uncertainty in the Agency. It’s been mission after mission for you, and you’re taking every break you can get. 
Rustling sounds from above you, but you pay it no mind, busying yourself with nestling all of your body into the crevices of the couch and hopefully turning into a piece of furniture yourself. It might be a more peaceful life, really. The calm is short-lived when you feel fingers tap along your cheek—not in a rousing gesture, but something along the lines of placating. 
Dazai squeezes a hand beneath your head and cups the side of your face pressed against the couch, tilting it closer to him before you feel a warm press of lips against your cheek. He lingers. He always does. You can feel the gentle inhales and exhales breeze against your face before he breaks his kiss away. Your cheek is warm for more reasons than one. 
“Take care of yourself,” and oh, god, you’ll never get used to this, never get used to how tender and soft he’s become with you, never get used to how this Agency has fostered something like kindness in both of you. Your stomach stirs with something unnamed and if you were braver, you’d blink your eyes open and reach up and grab the sides of his face and pull him down to you. 
But you’re not brave, and there’s people still behind you in the office, and you wonder what led Dazai to be soft enough to kiss your face like that in front of everyone. You’re sure they’re watching you both. The Agency is full of gossips, whether they admit it or not. 
===
“Dazai,” Ango Sakaguchi grits out from behind the crackling reception of a burner phone. “They were not a part of the plan.” 
“You think I don’t know that, Ango?” Dazai replies, tone more playful than aggressive. “I know they’re not a part of the plan. They knew they weren’t part of the plan, too. But it’s too late to do anything about it. It’s just a minor change.” 
“A minor change?” Ango’s voice is strained with stress, no doubt pulling out strands of his hair as they speak. “I have to deal with not one, but now two members of the mafia defecting. Do you know how much work this was to begin with?” 
The thing is—of course Dazai knows. He knows everything. The minute he found you in his kitchen, his stomach dropped with the uncertainty of the future. Going underground with another person was nothing short of a burden, at least on paper. But, he couldn't find it in himself to think of you like that. Like a burden. 
“We’ll figure it out, Ango. If you don’t, then we will.” 
A gritty sigh sounds from the other side of the phone call. “I’m putting a lot of faith in you, Dazai. Don’t screw this up.” 
===
“Made you lunch. Since, obviously, you’re not gonna do that for yourself any time soon.” 
A closed plastic container is thrown on the counter in front of Dazai. He looks at it, then up at you, eyebrow raised as if he doesn’t have a clue what this could be about. He’s not that stupid, though. You of all people would know that. 
“How nice of you! Too bad I’m not hungry.” His lip juts out in a poor imitation of a pout, and he looks ugly with it. So ugly. Ugly enough to make you feel the need to kiss him all over and then slap him. An incredulous huff escapes you. 
“I don’t care if you’re hungry. Eat. It has crab in it, see, your favorite.” 
“I thought my favorite was rice krispies?” 
You freeze. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might remember that, after all this time. You don’t dwell, because that’s the worst thing to do with Osamu Dazai—dwell. 
“Don’t act stupid. Just eat it. Even if it’s not the whole thing, at least some of it. It would do you some good.” Getting serious with Dazai is one of the most awkward, unbearable things you could ever do. He has a way of making you feel stupid for worrying about him, with all his roundabout jokes and skills of evasion built up over years. You’ve found that being straightforward is the best way to avoid all those blank moments of silence. 
His fingers curl around the plastic lid and pop it open. The container is still warm, having cooked all its contents just half an hour before showing up at Dazai’s apartment with conviction in your eyes. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll have some.” 
You bring out a duplicate container with a serving for you, and treat yourself to a juice box from his fridge. You try not to launch into a lecture at the sight of his barren pantry—that’s best done by Kunikida. The both of you eat in silence, sitting across from each other at Dazai’s dusty kitchen island. 
He only gets through a few bites before pushing the container away and complaining about how full he is. You know it’s not the truth, but it’s the mixed-up signals that his body sends him. It’s not that he’s full, but his persistent lack of appetite has caused a lot of troubles for him in the past and you don’t doubt that it’ll keep causing troubles in the future, too. 
“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you tell him, dragging him up from his chair despite his whining protests. “I won’t make you shower, but you should probably do that tomorrow, ‘cause your hair’s about to get all greasy and disgusting.”
“So crude.” 
“I do my best.” 
You let him change on his own, but not before picking out a nice soft set of matching pajamas from deep inside his closet. You grumble a little in annoyance. The set was a birthday gift you got for him a year ago and that asshole pushed it to the back of his wardrobe and never touched it again. What a brat. You throw a pair of fuzzy socks at him to boot. 
Once he’s changed into proper sleep clothes, you can tell that the exhaustion is starting to hit him. He sways a little on his feet and his blinks last for a little too long, as if he’s chasing sleep every time his eyes shut. With another begrudging sigh, you set him down on the floor of the bathroom and dollop his toothbrush with fruity kid’s toothpaste—because of course that’s the only toothpaste he owns—and brush his teeth for him. 
Dazai dozes off in the middle of it, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up in the most annoying way possible. You try really, really hard to not think about how soft you’ve gotten. You’re an ex-mafia member, past coated with dark stains and entrails and death, all of those dark things. Your blood is just as black as Dazai’s, if not more. And yet, being a part of this stupid Detective Agency with this stupid man has melted you down into something parallel to good.
Don’t dwell. It’ll do you no good. 
You use a gentle grip with the toothbrush, ensuring that his delicate gums don’t tear with the force of the bristles. A warm feeling stirs in your chest. It feels like you’ve proven something, like you’ve proven to the world that your coal-stained hands can be gentle, too. You can kill and you can nurture. You tap Dazai awake with a little more care, now. 
“Rinse your mouth,” you tell him in a whisper. “Then you can sleep.” And after a pause, you add, “I promise,” because now you’re in the business of making promises to people. 
Dazai rinses his mouth, and you wipe off the remaining droplets of water from his face with a paper towel that you leave on the counter for your future self to throw out. You lace your fingers with his as you walk to his bed. Not that he needs any guiding. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just a little extra insurance, you think. 
“Stay with me,” he mumbles out the minute you lay him down on the bed. It’s a sentence, and not a question, because he’d rather die than ask you something so vulnerable. He’s doing it again—peeling himself back and baring himself raw for you. Your head swims and your vision blurs with either a migraine or with tears, you can’t tell. But your lips quirk up into a stupid smile and he sees it despite his half-lidded eyes, and he smiles back like the stupid dope that he is. 
“Yeah, of course. I’m right here, Osamu. Go to sleep.” 
And he does. Of course, not before he feels you cup the opposite side of his face and plant a warm, lingering kiss on the swell of his cheek just as he did for you weeks before. The faint laugh that he lets out before he falls asleep is enough to tell you that he’ll be making fun of you for it in the morning. For now, though, he’s soft and pliant and warm between your hands, and you sleep.
784 notes · View notes
theotterpenguin · 2 months
Text
the performative accusation that shipping zutara (and occasionally this criticism is levied at jinko/zukka) is colonialist apologism has been addressed in some excellent posts, explaining the inaccuracies and problematic implications of this logic far better than i ever could - like this post and this one and this one and this one and this one.
and i know this topic has been talked about to death, but if you could indulge my contribution for a moment, i just find it interesting how this sentiment results from the cognitive dissonance of atla fans being unable to reconcile with the idea of their favorite show's political beliefs not lining up with their own.
atla is a largely philosophical children's show that at its core deals with themes of love, redemption, and destiny vs. free-will. atla examines these themes through an anti-colonalist, anti-imperalist lens that deconstructs the idea of racial divisiveness and the idea that people of different ethnicities are inherently different. this is message is pretty explicitly stated by guru pathik:
Guru Pathik: "The greatest illusion of this world is the illusion of separation. Things you think are separate and different are actually one and the same." Aang: "Like the four nations?" Guru Pathik: "Yes. We are all one people. But we live as if divided."
and also by uncle iroh:
"It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Understanding others, the other elements and the other nations will help you become whole."
this theme is developed across three full seasons, with the crux of this message culminating in zuko's friendships with the gaang - despite coming from different nationalities and different backgrounds, they have all had their own experiences being hurt by the fire nation and work together to take down the oppressive fire nation government. the question of destiny vs. free will is also explored through zuko's character - despite starting off as an antagonist, he develops into a symbolic representation of how the fire nation's oppression hurts its own citizens. he unlearns the fire nation's imperialist propaganda while simultaneously unlearning his father's abuse. rather than following misguided beliefs of what he thought his destiny was as the heir to the throne, instead he forges his own path.
thus, to claim that zuko can never form a deep and meaningful relationship with any of the gaang because of his nationality goes unequivocally against the themes of the show. and a major part of this is because these are fictional characters being used to analyze different theoretical questions within the show and in some cases, are used as symbolic representations of different philosophical ideas - their friendships and their character arcs serve a purpose within the text that cannot be easily transcribed onto real-life dynamics between people.
it's illogical to criticize fans who are choosing to understand atla at the level of the themes that are presented by the text - who are interested in exploring similar philosophical questions brought up by the show through the context of relationships.
if you don't like the themes of forgiveness and redemption that atla explores, your criticism should be aimed at the writing of the show itself rather than other fans. because you are giving far more thought to the "implications" of a close friendship or romantic relationship between someone from an imperalist nation and someone from an oppressed nation than the writers ever did. (and if you fall in this camp of people, i would hope you wouldn't be reblogging fanart of zuko and the gaang together while simultaneously claiming zuko could can never escape the sins of his ancestors and can never form a deep relationship based on trust and intimacy with katara or sokka or jin - because that would just be hypocritical).
and as a side note, people seem to apply this flawed logic to zutara far more than other ships solely because the show spends the most time exploring the complicated nature of fire nation imperalism in the interactions between zuko and katara in the latter half of b3. this is because they've been juxtapositioned against each other and paralleled with aang since the beginning of the show in ways that toph, sokka, and suki are not, who have mostly been used to examine different themes. there simply isn't enough time to explore these complicated themes with all the other characters, even if they theoretically exist in zuko’s dynamics with these characters, so the writers focus the most on zuko's relationships with katara and aang, and these relationships are given far more narrative weight, so have more content to criticize. but zuko and katara also canonically become friends by the end of the show. if you want to discount the existence of their friendship, claiming that it will always be tainted by the fire nation's oppression regardless of what is shown in the text, then you also have to discount zuko's friendships with aang, suki, toph, and sokka - because even if this isn't shown as a permanent barrier to their friendships in the show, it’s also not shown as a permanent barrier to his friendship with katara. if your logic is solely based on the idea that a person's identity in a relationship as a colonizer or a victim is fixed and unchanging regardless of character development, this would apply to zuko's friendships with everyone else as well.
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aliaology · 7 months
Text
NOW THAT WE DONT TALK
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summary: after a years worth of production, she finally releases her single for an upcoming album! pt.1
series masterlist
ynusername
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liked by user45, gracieabrams and 183,287 others.
ynusername hi everyone, its been awhile! i took a break and during this break i worked on something i didnt think i could do, write music. i put my heart, tears, sweat and blood into making my new upcoming album, so just for you, im releasing one of the songs now. out now, on all platforms, ‘now that we don’t talk’ can be streamed. small thanks to my brother and my best friends (auston n gracie) who helped me with these songs and overall helping me through my hardships. love u lots.
comments
user this is already so good wtf
user okay but who is this about???
user its totally about trevor zegras right?? like their friendship ended on such bad terms so it must be him!!!
user why dont we just leave the trevor yn situation alone…
marner_93 love u sis, even tho i helped a lot on the song and haven’t gotten my deserved credit ☺️
ynusername erm… love u too!
user she sounds so forced LMAO
ynusername held at gun point lmao
user nah cuz what about jack hughes…
user doubtful
user they dated for like, a few years and hes hella popular, plus her and trevor were friends too
gracieabrams so proud bb 🤍
ynusername 🤍🤍
colecaulfield OKAY LIL MARNER 🔥🔥
ynusername WOOHOO
marner_93 this means you can sing the canadian anthem for the maple leafs 🥹🥹
ynusername yeah id rather not
mapleleafs our favorite marner 🥹🥹
ynusername stop 🥹🥹
marner_93 uh
matthewknies I CALLED MY MOM SHE SAID THAT IT WAS FOR THE BEST 😫😫😫
austonmatthews REMIND MYSELF THE MORE I GAVE YOU’D WANT ME LESS 😖😖😖
user oh my god…
quinnhughes_ 🎶
user ERM WHAT
user with important men who think important thoughts 😵😵😵
user do we think those important men were alex, cole, trevor, and the hughes boys
user their thoughts arent important lmfao
sabrinacarpenter this is art 🤭
ynusername babe you’re art 🤭🤭
user i hope jack knows he FUMBLED
user especially with that new girl…
user babe dont hate on other girls while saying you love yn, because u know she hates that stuff
user UHM? did you not see fiona basically mocking yn on tik tok? shes lucky jack barely uses tik tok fr
user and i hope she releases a second single before the album because babe this is TOO GOOD
user i AGREE!
umichhockey look at our girl go 😻
user erm what
user yn is on the girls hockey team babe
user oh right my b 😔
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now that we dont talk!
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auras-moonstone · 3 months
Note
Hello!!! Hru?! I hope your doing great!
I don't know if the requests are open but i know you're a swiftie and 1989 tv just came out and "Slut!" really reminds me of Jack, so could you do a story inspired by it? Just reader being famous (actress/singer, whatever you think fits) and she is being all love-sick by meeting and dating jack? And she even buy that "i love my boyfriend/girlfriend" t-shirts?
I hope you get my request and i love your writing!! You are the best <3 (And what's you favorite vault track?)
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ slut! — jack champion
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ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.9K
ᡣ𐭩 pairing: jack champion x actress!fem!reader
ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n has to deal with the reputation that has been set on her by the media as she falls in love with jack, her co-star and best friend.
ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: mentions of slut-shaming. friends to lovers. instagram posts. fluff.
ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: hiii! <3 thanks for sending this request! when i heard the lyrics “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” my brain just screamed JACK so i agree with you! and my fav vault tracks are slut and say don’t go <3
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ever since y/n started working as an actress, the media has been merciless with her. maybe it was because despite having been in the industry for just a few short months, she was already working with remarkable directors and successful and iconic franchises. media had always had the tendency to bash successful women, and y/n was fully living that experience.
the point was, she didn’t want to give the media more things to trash her for, so she stayed unproblematic and silent. and yet, regardless of all that, they had managed put a reputation on her that was far from the truth.
y/n was kind and had a unique vibe. every co-star spoke highly about her and the media always managed to twist this by painting the picture that she was a “serial co-star dater.” it happened to her with every single movie or show she worked in, and people bought it blindly. the name-calling became part of her every-day life, and she would be lying if she said it didn’t affect her.
she swore she would never make the media be right, and so she set a strict rule—never ever date a co-star or be extra affectionate with them. it was a sad way of living, setting boundaries that were useless because reporters and haters always found a way, but she just wanted to do what she loved. she wanted to be remembered for her good acting and not for who she dated.
but then jack champion walked into the set, with his cringy yet amusing dad jokes and contagious smiles, to turn her world upside down. everything was so natural with him y/n didn’t even notice the way she started ignoring the rules until the scream filming was nearing its end and the thought of not seeing jack as often anymore made y/n’s chest hurt as if her heart was being ripped out.
and then the questions ran through her mind—what should she do? should she act normal, as if realisation hadn’t drawn on her? should she confront jack and ask if there was something more than friendship between them? or should she start putting distance before the feelings got deeper?
what she didn’t count on was that she didn’t need to say anything, jack was not only observant, he also knew her like the words to his favorite songs. he noticed how her head was up in space, how she seemed to be always deep in thoughts, distracted. something was consuming her mind, and it was driving jack insane.
“you’re acting weird. what’s going on?” jack finally asked her, pulling her aside on set. right behind the trailers where no one could bother them.
y/n tensed up. “what? nothing.”
“please, don’t play dumb. if there is someone you can’t fool is me.” jack said firmly. he missed his y/n, the girl who brought him comfort like a cozy warm blanket. “i miss you.”
“i’m here.” she said breathlessly.
“but are you?” he accused her. “something is going on, and it has to do with me.”
“what makes you say that?” y/n asked nervously.
“because you’re especially tense when i’m around.” he said sadly, and it broke y/n’s heart. her mind has been a mess, and she was unconsciously hurting jack. “did i do something wrong? please tell me, we can talk about it.”
y/n shook her head and before she knew it she was breaking down. jack didn’t hesitaste to pull her in. “i’m the problem. i’m sorry.”
“shhh, it’s okay. i’m here. don’t worry about it now, just take a deep breath. we don’t have to talk about it now, i’m here whenever you’re ready.” he spoke softly, rubbing her back slowly, to try and bring some calm.
they both sat on the ground, backs resting against the trailer. jack held y/n’s soft hands tightly, hoping it would give her the comfort she needed. he had never seen her in such state, and he was concerned.
“it’s nothing bad… i guess. it depends.” she said, reading the expression on the boy’s face, which grew more confused by her words. “i realized some things a few days ago, and they have been occupying my mind. i don’t know what to do with this. no matter what i do, it’s going to change things so i might as well be completely honest.”
jack nodded, pressing his lips on the crown of her head. “not going anywhere, y/n/n. no matter what you say, i can promise that.”
“you know the reputation that precedes me, right? i’ve told you about it.” jack frowned but nodded. “because of that, i’ve set this rule, that i wouldn’t let myself be affectionate with my co-stars. and i have sticked to that rule, until you.”
a knot formed on jack’s stomach. “so it’s about that? you want to put some distance?” god, he hated this. he hated to think about not being able to hold her, but he would give it up if it meant he got to keep her around.
“that’s the thing, jack. the reason why i have been acting so unlike me is because i’ve been trying to convince myself that putting distance would be the wise decision. but… if these days have proven anything is that it would be ultimate hell.”
“why didn’t you talk to me?”
“well, to be honest i was thinking what i should do. you just beat me to it because you know me better than anyone else.” she smiled and jack mirrored it. “that’s… that’s not everything i realized though.”
“okay, go on.”
“when the countdown to our last day on set started, i got this horrible feeling on my chest. the first thing that ran through my mind was that we wouldn’t see each other that often anymore and i felt this hole in my chest… it’s more than just missing a friend, jack. i would feel empty because i like you and you’ve become my person.”
jack’s jaw fell open and he was close to pinch himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. the times he has dreamt about this scenario… it felt too good to be real.
“but…” she continued. and reality hit the shore, putting an end to his short-lived hope. “i’m scared of what people might say. it’s still hard for me to not let what others think get into my head, and to even think about the hate that might come your way if we dated, makes me sick.” she shook her head and then her eyes widened. “my god, what am i even saying? i just assumed that you liked me back, i didn’t let you talk. god, this is embarrassing i’m so sorry.”
jack cupped her cheeks. “y/n, y/n, stop. breathe.” the girl nodded and closed her eyes until she was breathing normally again. “okay, now listen to me. if you’re not ready for a relationship, that’s fine. but if it’s because you’re scared of the hate comments towards me, let it go. i don’t care about them, i just care about you. okay?”
“yes…”
“good. i want to be your boyfriend, and if you’re not ready because of what the media might think then i have an idea.” y/n’s curious eyes look up to meet his. “i really like you, too, y/n/n. we can date in secret, to see how things go, and whenever you’re ready, we can tell everyone.”
“jack, that’s a lot to ask to you…”
“you aren’t asking me anything. i want to do this. i want to call you mine so bad—in secret, in public, however you want.”
y/n smiled through the tears. “are you sure?”
“one hundred percent, y/n. never been so sure about something.” he reassured her.
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y/n couldn’t even recognize herself. two months ago she had been completely against the idea of being in a relationship and now she was utterly and unquestionably love-strucked.
she used to think she was doomed to being lovelorn because of the restrictions she had put in her relationships with other people. and now, there she was in bed, feeling lovesick just because she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in two days.
though those days helped her make the decision. the relationship between them was beautiful, it was a safe place, it was her main source of happiness. jack was everything to her and she was tired of loving him in the dark. he deserved to be loved out loud, in plain sight. she knew she was going to be the one to pay the price, but it was fine.
“you know there’s no rush, right?” jack assured her for the hundredth time. when y/n told him she wanted to make their relationship public, he remained calm (even though he was jumping on the inside) and sat her down to think it through.
y/n smiled widely. how could she not fall for him when in a world of boys he was a gentleman? “i love you, and if they call me a slut… you know, it might be worthy for once.”
“i love you, too.” he pulled her in for a kiss. “okay. let’s do this.”
“okay. i’m just warning you, i truly believe in the slang go big or go home.”
jack eyed her suspiciously. “spill.”
the girl smirked mischievously and went to grab a bag. “i made us special shirts.”
“lord save me.” jack sighed when he took the shirts out of the bag.
“you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” y/n said
“you know i’m going to, anyways. like i’d ever be able to say no to your pretty face.”
enchantedliv um, just bumped into y/n y/l/n and jack champion 🥺 they were wearing matching shirts that pretty much confirmed their relationship ????
landrysghost what did the shirts say??
enchantesliv “i ❤️ my girlfriend.” and “i ❤️ my boyfriend.” THEY ARE SO CUTE AND WERE SO SWEET😫
user1 are we really surprised? that girl dates everyone she works with.
user2 he’s too good for her.
user3 she’s going to dump her once she meets her next co-star for sure lmaooo
user3 y’all are so jealous lmao. acting bitter just because you want him, that’s her only crime. there has never been any proof that she dated previous co-stars.
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liked by jackchampion, misstrinitybliss, baileybass and 878,913 more.
y/n.y/l/n hi everyone! this is more than me saying i’m taken by the most gorgeous and kindest man on the planet. this is also me getting something off my chest. been wanting to for a while, so here we go!
since the beginning of my career i’d told myself to stay unproblematic which i mistook for never fight back or defend myself.
the media always said i dated too many co-stars—even though that’s completely false. i’ve never dated anyone i worked with (until now)—, so i set this stupid rule for myself: try not to be too friendly with my workmates. i was so scared of proving the media’s rumours right that i built this shell around me, never allowing myself to fully connect with people. and then, a couple of months ago i met jack. he made me forget about those limitations i so foolishly put.
i’m done giving anyone the power to hurt me. i’m done letting people think it’s okay to shame a woman for who they date or not.
i’ve been in a dark place for a long time, and i never noticed until my person walked into my life and showed me daylight. i’m doing better than i ever was now. i’m never staying silent again, i’m going to defend myself, my relationship and my boyfriend. always.
that was all for now, thanks for reading.
ps. i love you, jack. all i need is you <3 thanks for being the best boyfriend, best friend and person in the world.
jackchampion so so so proud of you. this brought tears to my eyes not gonna lie. you’re the sweetest ever i love you 💌 thanks for the shirt, by the way, matches my personality!
y/n.y/l/n you’re so silly😭 i love you more and intend to be cheesy forever 🫶🏻💖
jackchampion certainly no complaints from me!
234 notes · View notes
mxqdii · 4 months
Note
could you do like hcs of Nick meeting and becoming friends with his like favourite singer ever? 😭
(She’s like Billie Eilish level famous)
LOVE YOUR WORK BTW 😻😻
headcannons - n.s x famous reader
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pairings: nick sturniolo x bsf reader
summary: headcannons
warning(s): none!
not proofread
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it was all fun and games, nick casually going to your concert and getting barricade (love him for that)
singing and screaming to every song you sing because obviously he knows all of them
eventually, you spot him in the crowd, mouthing "oh my god i know you!"
nick absolutely dies. cause wdym his favorite singer ever knows him?? huhh??
after the concert, nick gets asked by security to go backstage to meet you!! (obvi he says yes)
pictues and hugs are exchanged, and bro is absolutely fangirling (as he should)
you guys make a tiktok together and the fans FREAK OUT
"since when are they friends??"
"Y/N AND NICK OMG??"
"WHAT. NICK WITH HIS FAV?? SINCE WHEN??"
and just for shits and giggles you two decide to go live
nick would just be like "hey guys!" and the comments would be confused on where he is
then you'd pop out and the comments would start going 100 miles an hour 😭
its safe to say hundreds of edits are made and you guys become tiktoks new fav duo
people also immediately start shipping you with matt and chris 🙈
you and nick obvi exchange numbers and become best friends, eventually meeting his brothers and becoming close with them too
BONUS:
meeting chris and matt was super fun, they were both really funny and looked exactly like nick, which was expected but still odd to see in person
you really did like meeting both of them, but that was a problem
the whole night you couldnt keep your eyes off of matt, and chris couldnt keep his eyes off of you
matt liked you too, but i dont think it was like that, was it?
chris definitely liked you, but did you like him??
you obviously cant tell nick bc then friendship is obviously ruined, so what do you do?
write an album about it.
the album comes out and fans FREAK OUT. (lots of them suspect its about the triplets but who knows) (they're right ofc)
A/N: why do i really like this omg?? lowk i could turn this into a fic if you guys would be interested
TAGLIST:
@opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @strniolo @annaisabookworm @theperson-nextdoor @its-jennarose @thetriplets3 @gottamakemyhatersmad @luvsturniolo
246 notes · View notes
divine-donna · 2 months
Text
tell me
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instead of writing a fic, i settled on writing just a general collection of headcanons. these are gender neutral. and uh, i'm on a mission to convert my friend to the swann arlaud agenda.
anyways watch anatomy of a fall on a big screen. don't do what i did, which is just watch it on my laptop. movie is too good to be watched on a laptop. and also be a streaming service.
these are gender neutral, by the way.
part 02
character: vincent renzi (aka. hot lawyer from anatomy of a fall)
for vibes: "tell me" by fifty fifty
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moving to france wasn't on your list of things to do when you were in your early teens. it was such a drastic move. but unfortunately, it made sense because your mother was a film scholar who specialized in french film and she got a job to teach at a prestigious university. it was an opportunity she had to take and you were brought along for the ride.
picking up french was not that hard. you learned in school and also picked it up from the films your mother watched. you remembered watching Cléo from 5 to 7 a lot. maybe you shouldn't have, considering its themes. being immersed in the environment helped you pick up on it quicker.
all to say, you were fluent by the time you reached university.
you don't remember which class you met him in. you just know you got put in a group together for introductions. typical first year stuff.
"vincent renzi."
he had a boyish charm to him. he looked younger than you, yet you were the same age. there was still some baby fat on his cheeks.
your smile was warm. "(y/n)."
he became one of your first friends.
university was a rough transition period. you left your old friends behind. you didn't like them that much anyways. they didn't seem to like you either. so, you essentially came into university without many friends.
it's a gradual friendship, one that arises from meeting up consistently and then those meetings evolving into hanging out for hours.
doing schoolwork while drinking coffee, reading in the library, going out for dinner. hell even cooking for each other. it was a solid friendship.
it helped that you guys also wandered in the same social circle. so you also had mutual friends, including german exchange student sandra voyter.
they always talked about how you two were together. always seen talking. always seen outside of class. even when you guys had so much work to do and you shouldn't be with him because you guys ended up distracted and procrastinating your papers.
"why do you still have this?" he asks.
it was your third year of university. your place was small cozy. and it was affordable with your two other roommates. you guys had gotten lucky with the rent.
"have what?" you don't look up from your laptop. you were nearly finished with your paper.
"this."
you look up. vincent's holding up a dvd box with a beat up cover sleeve. the colors were faded and the cardboard was bent all over, creating multiple webs.
"because it's mine?"
"it's all beat up. wouldn't it be better to transfer to a new box?" he shrugs.
"my mother gave it to me when i graduated. it's...niche, i guess." you think about how she gifted you her favorite movie and the movie she has written a whole book about.
"everyone knows Céline and Julie Go Boating."
"not in that sense. just in the sense that my mother has an interesting way to mourn me leaving the house." you still stayed with her when you went back. but graduating really proved that you weren't a kid anymore. "i really liked it when i was younger. because of the colors. the rest of the stuff did not register with me. according to her, i kept asking her to put it on."
"you must have had an interesting taste as a child."
"well...she specializes in this stuff. so i'm not surprised."
"you don't even have a tv."
"okay well, i have it for novelty sake."
your eyes return to your laptop screen. you don't notice the way vincent's eyes linger on you, watching the way your fingers intently move as you finish up your paper. or how you furrow your brows when rereading your sentence and realizing it makes no sense. or the gentle curse beneath your breath when you realize you've forgotten a word in your sentence. he's never heard someone curse so gently.
he sets the dvd back where he picked it up from, feeling the worn out cardboard.
it was your birthday. such a scary time, for it to come so soon.
originally, you thought it was going to be you, vincent, sandra, and some of your other friends. after all, vincent was good as organizing group events and outings.
when you showed up at your usual meeting spot, it was just him.
"are they going to meet us there?" you question.
"we'll meet them after." he smiles.
"what is going on in that brain of yours?"
"you'll see."
when he takes your hand, your heart flutters. you've held hands before. but never did it make you feel so...light. like a cloud. you weren't sure if you were imagining your cheeks heating up slightly.
vincent leads you to a nearby cinema. he buys two tickets for a limited showing of Céline and Julie Go Boating.
"this is so..." you can't help but let out a laugh, staring at the movie ticket.
"why not? get the full experience." his eyes are gentle. there's tenderness in his gaze. it makes you feel all warm and gooey on the inside.
"you know the movie is...over three hours long right?"
"of course. that's why i picked an earlier showing. so we can get to dinner on time later."
being in the dark with your friend for over three hours. watching a movie about two people who were coded to be lovers. what could go wrong?
nothing, really. in the eyes of someone else.
to you, and to him, everything.
you haven't seen the film in forever. so rewatching it was like watching it for the first time without being distracted by the colors.
vincent couldn't watch the movie. he was more interested in the way your face shifted, how you whispered about not remembering that happening, how you laughed and the way your lips curled so cutely.
in truth, he could care less about the movie.
you were his favorite film.
as céline and julie were in a soap opera, enacting a hetero-normative plot, you turn to look at vincent. you were wondering how your friend was holding up.
your eyes meet his and your lips can't help but curl into a smile.
"are you watching?"
"of course." his eyes flicker to the screen for a brief moment.
"or were you watching me?"
"your reactions are interesting. they tell me what i should be thinking of the film."
"i shouldn't be the one you judge this film on."
silence between you two. the kind of comfortable silence you two are used to. but something feels more different. perhaps because it was dark. perhaps because the world seemed to fall away and it was just the two of you and the film faded into the background.
you were oddly close to him. your shoulders were touching. and if you moved forward, your noses would be able to touch.
you shift closer, causing his breath to hitch. "thank you for this, by the way." when you whisper, it is a message only meant for him.
"happy birthday." he says. he moves his face closer, heart pounding.
you want to meet him in the middle. you want to feel his soft lips against your own. and yet, something grips you hard. it's stomach curdling.
you move forward, your lips on his cheek. his eyes widen and his shoulders slump a little. you pull away. "it's...nice. to have the bestest friend i know."
"that's not a word." sadness settles in his eyes.
"all words are made up. so i can make up new ones."
in the moment you felt unsure about not making a move. that regret comes to follow you in your life.
graduation came too soon. way too soon.
you had decided to leave france for a bit, go to grad school abroad. somewhere else where you could pursue an mfa in creative writing.
it was your last coffee before you guys would graduate, inevitably separating.
vincent said he wanted to tell you something. it was urgent, something important to him. you could tell he wanted to spit it out.
or did he want to vomit because he was nervous?
"stop leaving me in suspense!" you take a sip of your coffee. "what is it?"
should he tell you?
should he confess?
he wants to tell you. oh so desperately. and yet, he feels it would be selfish to.
it's not about if you didn't feel the same way. to vincent, being rejected is the better scenario.
he didn't want to keep you grounded in france, a place you were looking to leave because you have spent a decent chunk of your life here. moving was good for you.
he worried that if you felt the same way, then maybe you would reconsider going away. and if you were looking to leave forever, he didn't want to be the thing keeping you here.
i love you. i have for a while. let's go on a date.
thirteen words. three sentences.
it was so miniscule. but he felt like atlas, carrying the sky. he was carrying a whole world.
vincent wipes his palms against his jeans. his heart was stuck in his throat. and his brain acted first.
"i got accepted into law school."
"that's great! oh my god!" you nearly squeal for him.
your happiness for him was enough.
writing a hit debut novel is no easy feat. and yet, you did it. people loved your novel.
the novel centered on two friends. their platonic bond ends up in a weird limbo, where there's romantic tension but neither wants to act upon it in fear. ultimately, the two friends reunite years after they separated, on different career paths. they meet at a conference, sit at a bar, and the novel ends with them rekindling their relationship. you left it up to the reader to interpret that being romantic or platonic. or even if they never talked to each other again after that night.
you were on fire as an author. and your recent publication, a collection of short stories, had become particularly famous. especially on social media.
you decided to go back to france for a few months. you wanted to spend more time with your mother and catch up with your friends. all of them you haven't seen since university.
unfortunately it also didn't mean you were on vacation. you still had to work. and you had many book signings to attend to.
when you look up to see the next person, your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.
vincent aged like wine. he still looked like how he did in university. less baby fat. gray hair. some wrinkles. but you liked it.
his eyes meet yours and he walks over. "my favorite short story was the one about the cow farmer."
"that came from a dream i had as an undergraduate student." you open the book and sign the first page. "how are you?"
"good. good. how about you?" he smiles. he's so radiant. you're reminded why you missed him. and why you felt regret in your body from all those years ago.
"well, you already know about me." you gesture to the books. your books. "have you...met up with sandra recently?"
"on the rare occasion. she's been traveling a lot. but recently she moved here. with her husband."
"her husband...samuel?" vincent nods. "he's an interesting character. from the few times i met him."
"they seem to be doing alright." he takes the signed book and peeks at what you wrote. there's a heart next to his name.
"we should talk more. catch up."
"if you're free."
you think for a second. "can you come back in thirty minutes? i should be done by then."
vincent smiles. he leaves the bookstore.
he's waiting outside for you after those thirty minutes.
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