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#idk where I'm going with this I'm just upset i guess

weirdly-specific-but-ok · 5 months

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Pt III good omens but i STILL SOMEHOW haven't watched it (and i'm increasingly passive aggressive)

i'm now basically held hostage adopted as mascot by this fandom. it's fine i'm fine *SIGNALS FOR HELP DESPERATELY*

Alright fuckers I swear this time I'm going to get some shit right. Without further ado, here's my third attempt at a good omens summary:

Everything everywhere is queer all at once

Angel Aziraphale and demon Crowley on earth likey each other

The car is a bentley and it is BLACK not silver and everyone is very upset about this. my bad yall it was reflecting light therefore i guessed more silver than black but I'm not Anish Kapoor take your black.

Then it is yellow, and aziraphale likes it. crowley preferred the black because he's a flamboyant emo.

God is a deadbeat absentee parent and you are all children of divorce.

There's a naked archangel and they cause problems for the husbands somehow. By being naked? By being an archangel? By being at their doorstep? Who knows not me

They were actually married for 6000 years, they just are the last to know about it.

Crowley is on fire. Like, he's slaying for sure, but also he is literally on fire, like Aziraphale's bookstore.

The actors like I said before are Michael Sheen and David Tennant but this is the place where I finally admit that I don't actually know who is whom. I'm going to assume Michael is Aziraphale because Michael sounds angel-y and David is Crowley because uh Michaelangelo made David and was gay for him.

Terry Pratchett is not fictional.

He co-wrote the book with @neil-gaiman, who IS fictional, because he does not have social media. Several of you have assured me that he is in fact a fandom inside joke. I like to think he would be proud of me.

They adopt a preteen and Crowley gives him bad advice.

At some point a baby was delivered to someone and was exchanged for the son of Satan. Idk if the baby is the preteen, or the son of satan is the preteen, or neither. This could be a fanfic, I have no way of differentiating the fanfic from canon on tumblr, except that the canon is weirder.

Crowley does not go down a chute. He goes down a telephone cord after making himself microscopic to pole dance on a pin with shroom-induced backgrounds.

During this his stage name is Disco Tony. Get it king go slay you're making better life choices than I am tbh.

Aziraphale is a biblically accurate angel, and you have all gone to extensive lengths to prove this to me. I understood nothing, but there you go.

It's all very queer, just like the fandom.

Crowley is a retired demon but he still sins by breaking the speed limit.

They eat at fancy restaurants and bicker but like in a sexual undercurrent way.

Crowley gives Aziraphale a private dance that is not a lap dance, it is an apology dance, but not in a kinky way, until it is.

Their haircuts keep changing and range from 'this is acceptable and gay' to 'i let a drunk chimpanzee take gardening shears and a blowtorch to my hair'

It's all ineffably queer my good fellows

Everyone keeps trying to convince me Neil Gaiman is the villain yeah no guys I know it's really you. Y'all be like 'SEASON TWO BROKE ME' and then you're making headcanons to make it sadder yeah I see you mmhm.

There is a final fifteen. It is sad. What is it? No one told me.

The demon turns goats into crows and the angel turns them back and then children are turned into newts (does the angel turn them back? who cares not yall) and the demon was the snake in the Eden garden and everyone's furry game seems to be on point.

There are a rather lot of children. I have not seen them. But I am assured they are there. They are, guys. I assume they were turned into the alcohol Aziraphale and Crowley drink or something.

There was an apocalypse plotline. It was averted. It is not important. You don't talk about plotlines in this fandom, no sir.

Crowley doesn't want to go to heaven. Aziraphale is sad.

The kiss is not nice, just like this fandom. It is queer, just like this fandom. It is sad and desperate and masochistic, just like this fandom.

Aziraphale doesn't want to stay back with Crowley. Crowley is sad.

Season 2 ends. Fandom is sad.

Everyone's sanity is hinging on the promise of a happy ending in season 3. Good luck guys.

Y'all better appreciate this. I can't even boast to my mother about this legacy of mine, hey mum your son has been held hostage kidnapped inducted into a cult adopted by a fandom he's not part of look he's winning at life.

4K notes · View notes

mitsies · 1 year

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» THE TRAIN RIDE HOME ; itoshi rin «

; ↠ itoshi rin sees you every morning at 7. the moment you smile at him, he knows it's all over.

## author's note: i went thru the 7th circle of hell and a pack of malboros while writing this. enjoy! ## contents: itoshi rin x reader, feminine reader, crushing, canon-compliant i think? idk ur both like 17 so it works, confessions and fluff! ## wc: 13.2k (i'm unwell)

itoshi rin likes to count the people as they board the train. it's a habit leftover from his childhood, where he'd sit with his little legs swinging, pointing everyone out to his brother. (passenger 4 wore blue every day, and passenger 18 always had cat fur on his coat, and so on.)

he collected minute details to store in his head, a way to de-stress from the rush hour of his life. every morning at 6, he'd go on a run, and then from his final destination, he'd take the train back. rin was a regular, and an observant one at that- so it was only a matter of time before he noticed you.

you sat diagonally from him, always with your hands in your lap, twirling around the loose threads on the cuffs of your sweater. that was the first thing he noticed about you- the white cable-knit zip-up you frequently donned.

it looked nice on you, he thought. you seemed cozy, almost, as cozy as one could be on a train at 7 in the morning. rin wondered where you were going, since you appeared too young to have a corporate job.

you were on the train whenever he boarded and got off 2 stops before he did. and itoshi rin couldn't help but watch as you left. you carried a canvas tote with a familiar character that he couldn't quite place, and you'd always smiled warmly at the sweet old lady to your right. there were paint splatters smudging your shoes and rin wonders if you liked to draw.

he’d never ask, though. because why would he? you were a pretty person on the train, and he was just another passenger.

rin thinks he’ll settle for just watching, for now. he never expects you to look his way.

it’s a cloudy thursday when you aren’t sitting at your regular spot for the first time in at least a month. rin shouldn’t feel a tinge of disappointment, the way he does in the pit of his stomach now. he doesn’t even know you, so who is he to be upset by your absence?

it’s not until he takes his own regular place that he realizes- you weren't missing. you'd just shifted seats. you were next to him, now, bag in your lap and hands rested on top of it.

rin snaps his head away from you as soon as he realizes you're there, and he can feel his ears burning. you're not even looking at him, exchanging amicable conversation with the same elderly woman, who is now across from you rather than next to you. there's a mother with a little sleeping boy on her lap occupying your regular place, and he presumes that's the cause of your breech of pattern.

he's snapped back to reality when the old lady laughs and says a name that sounds so honeyed and sweet that it couldn't belong to anyone but you.

"you're just the funniest," chuckles the woman, "makes me feel young again."

your smile is wry. "i guess i picked that up from you, mrs. sato."

rin doesn't quite mean to eavesdrop on your quiet conversation, it kind of just happens. you were right next to him, how could he not? and he also didn't mean to sneak glances towards you whenever you were turned away. that was also an accident, a slip-up he was very grateful that no one else picked up on.

it wasn't his fault that you looked even prettier up close. it wasn't his fault that he wanted to memorize how you looked when you smiled, down to the minuscule creases and lines of your cheeks.

you bid mrs. sato goodbye with a polite tip of your head when the train reaches your stop. your shoes have new paint stains, and your jacket is collecting more lint. rin wonders if you've noticed. and he watches you go long after you're gone.

he's not expecting to be addressed, so it takes a few tries before mrs. sato gets his attention.

"hello! young man! hello," she waves a wrinkled hand in rin's face and he turns to her.

"so..." her eyes shine with a childlike mirth and rin is a bit scared because what is going on?

"you're not as sneaky as you think you are, boy."

rin stiffens. "what?"

"i see you peeking at my dear friend."

he blinks, unsure how to reply. it's not everyday that the 70-something year old woman your totally-not-a-crush is friends with confronts you about your staring problem.

"huh?" he asks dumbly.

the old woman rolls her eyes and the train lurches to a stop. "well. i'm out of town for who knows how long, and i wouldn't want them to be lonely. i'm sure you wouldn't, either."

she stands with a joking wink and rin fights the embarrassed scowl from creeping onto his face. he's positive that he's red right now, and he's giving his all to not be disrespectful to this elderly woman in public.

"well, be good to them." rin opens his mouth but she's already hobbling away. he sinks back into his seat and wishes it would eat him alive.

rin sees you the next day, sitting in the same place as you were yesterday. he shifts to put a little more space between the two of you, a little embarrassed- his breathing is still heavy from his run, and he's sure he smells of sweat.

you notice and give him a soft smile, though something akin to confusion muddles your eyes. you must be wondering where mrs. sato is, but you don't bring it up.

"sorry," you apologize for nothing. you also scoot a little to the side, and rin almost wants to say 'no, don't move further, you didn't do anything,' but that would be creepy and he doesn't want to be that guy.

so instead he fights his resting bitch face and gives you a sharp nod without meeting your eyes, because his face is already hot from hearing your voice say a single word and he is rather humiliated by his limits. "you're fine."

rin thinks he sounds like a strangled cat and he'd punch himself in the face if you weren't right there. but you give him a smile, and he feels a strange elation, and god, was it always this warm on the train?

"you're on this train every day, right?" your voice is hushed, and rin wonders if it's because you're trying not to disturb the mother and her child (who are still cuddled into your usual spot) or if that's just your demeanor. either way, he wants to find out. he wants to know you.

"i am."

you seem to consider his words for a moment and rin realizes that this means you know him. or, at least, know of him. you've seen him every morning just as he's seen you- the realization sends a strange spark through his stomach.

"where are you headed to so early?"

"home. i run out here and take the train back."

"you're a runner?"

"something like that."

you hum, and before you turn away, rin speaks again. "where are you going?"

he watches as you turn your head back towards him, a genuine smile forming on your face. "i work at a primary school. it's not an official position, but i'm kind of the art teacher."

he raises his brows. "art teacher?"

"yeah! i started off as a volunteer, but i guess i fit better since i'm younger than regular teachers," you shrug, and rin thinks he could listen to you talk forever.

your voice is beautiful, he thinks. it suits your name, and you face, and he can't think about it much longer because otherwise he'll start burning alive. he's still not looking at you when you introduce yourself, because for the sake of his dignity he doesn't think he can.

he already knows your name but he thinks it sounds even prettier falling from your lips. and god, he messed up, because now he's thinking about your lips.

"itoshi rin," he manages to get out when it's his turn to introduce himself.

"itoshi rin," you repeat, and the boy thinks he might die right then and there. what is wrong with him?

you're about to say something more but you get a look out the window and realize it's almost your stop. grabbing your bag, you stand as the train stills.

"this is me. i guess i'll see you tomorrow, then."

"see you."

and then you're gone, just like that. the morning train is silent once more, save for the whirring as it begins to run again and the footsteps of passengers finding their places.

rin decides that he can't wait until tomorrow. he's not sure why.

over the next few days, you and rin grow closer. or, you'd like to think you've become closer. you talk a lot more, about everything, and he sits and listens.

he knows about your favorite student at work, and how he had given you the doraemon tote bag that you always sported for your birthday last year. he knows about your cat named snorkel and how your friends always tried to set you up on dates. he knows about your favorite foods and how you hated sleeping with wet hair.

and rin decided that he would do anything to hear you talk. he acted uninterested, sure, but he hung off every word you said. he engraved every single sentence into the details of his memories, stowing away any information you'd give him in the catalogs of his brain.

it came to a point where every single one of his thoughts were tainted with the knowledge of you. you were all he could think about- he saw you in every crowd and smelt your perfume in the wind even when you weren't around.

it was pathetic, really, the way he searched for you in everything, and the way you appeared to him, too. especially since this 'infatuation' was the product of a few measly mornings and some half-asleep conversations.

this was pitiful, rin thought, he was pitiful. but he kept coming back.

(..and it was especially pitiful because you were kind of annoying.)

your smile was as radiant as it was infectious, and you really, really liked talking. you might've been a little hesitant to speak to rin at first, but that certainly wasn't true anymore. with the way you ran your mouth, anyone would think you'd been friends for years.

rin hated how you left him without things to say. he couldn't muster his usual cruelties when he spoke to you. usually, he just hummed along or gave you minimal replies. but the flow of the conversations you had were never dull, and they became a highlight of his day.

"you'll never guess what happened," you started, as soon as rin took his usual seat next to you one tuesday morning. he uncapped his water bottle and took a sip as you continued.

"yesterday morning, i told you about how we were doing an animal painting activity, right?"

"yeah."

"okay, so i had just finished my example and instructions, and i was helping this one little boy. he's really sweet, by the way, he just doesn't really like... paint. which is kind of counterproductive."

"mhm."

"but anyways, this other kid comes up to me- she's tugging on my sleeve, and she says 'i made you something!' and it's not like i never get paintings from students, so i'm all like 'oh, thank you! what is it!' fully expecting it to be just some drawing, right?"

"right."

"but she hands me my bag!"

it's then that rin notes that you aren't carrying your usual tote bag. instead, you have an old canvas satchel that's cute but not nearly as endearing as your previous one. he frowns.

"it was fully covered in paint- like, it was all over her hands and everything. no way i'm getting that bag back. so messy," you shudder.

"it was the one your student gave you last year, right?"

"yeah. i'm a little sad, but i can't be too upset. she was like, 7 years old. they do that."

you begin to prattle on about some other inane topic, and for the first time since he's met you, you don't have rin's full attention. you don't seem to notice, but he's already adding another item to his mental checklist.

‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° ｡ ˚ 𓆛 ˚ ｡ ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊

the following day, when rin boards the train, he doesn't greet you. he's holding something, and when he sits next to you he wordlessly drops it on your lap.

"what's this?" you fumble with the item in your hands- it's something light in a plain paper bag. rin doesn't reply, crossing his arms and slouching down in his seat. he stares straight ahead, eyes probably burning holes into the side of the train.

"okay, grouch. don't say anything, then."

"just open the bag, dumbass."

"jesus, fine."

you reach into the parcel, pulling out a denim bag. it's roomy and well-crafted, and a set of pins are stuck into the side. you recognize familiar cartoon characters, a paint palette, and a little train. for the first time since you've met rin, you're not sure what to say.

you stare down at the bag. rin stares at you. when you look up to meet his eye he whips his head away. but then he hears a shuffling, and your arms are around his neck, and he's frozen.

you're hugging him, and he can smell your hair, and he can't say a word. he thinks your shampoo smells like peaches. he would ask you if he was right if only he could find the words.

you're gone just as soon as you appeared and rin misses your warmth, but maybe a bit of it has transferred to him because he's all hot beneath the collar of his crewneck and he's feeling his face grow uncomfortably flushed.

he slumps back in his seat as you fiddle with the enamel pins- they're dainty and unique, and you're a little taken aback by how thoughtful they are. "i love this."

if rin were to try and form a coherent sentence, he thinks he might combust. so he just hums an 'mhm' and pries his gaze back to the opposing window, a little humiliated by how difficult it is for him to take his eyes off you.

he thinks he's done a pretty good job of cooling himself down until your hand is on his forearm. the contact feels icy against his hot, flushed skin and it sends a shiver down his spine as he turns to meet your gaze again.

"thank you," you say and your hands gently squeeze his arm, "this means so much to me. really."

this isn't the first time you've left him speechless, but it's the first time you've witnessed just how potent your effect on rin really is. you smile at him again before leaving him be, continuing to fiddle with the bag while he recuperates.

you keep talking at him but it's in one ear and out the other, and by the time it's your stop he's only a little bit better. you stand when the train stops and the window's light trickles through the opened doors and falls upon your lips like they're being highlighted just for him. he blinks the thought away.

"i'll see you tomorrow morning, rin," you say as you hold your bag close to your side, its new contents sitting heavy in the bottom. rin only nods and crosses his arms.

he hopes that little expression can contain the vast expanse of indescribable emotions that he feels for you, but he knows he's unfair for that because even rin himself hasn't been able to comprehend them.

he's not sure why he doesn't see you as a bother or distraction. he's not sure why he'd be disappointed whenever you didn't continue a conversation or praise the littlest things in a way he'd never expect from anyone else. he's not sure why he's so determined to make you smile, and he's even more uncertain as to what the strange, strange sensation he experiences whenever he succeeds is.

he's not sure, he's not sure, he's not sure, but he thinks he loves it.

he frowns. rin loves how you make him feel. his frown grows deeper at the realization. his eyelids flutter shut and he tips his head back against the edge of his seat, a dull thump sounding as it hits the metal.

he thinks he'll ignore this realization, for now.

it's almost a week after rin's gotten you the bag, and it's become your new everyday option. he can't help but think it looks especially good with your white zip-up and he applauds himself silently for his fashion choices.

the bag already has some tiny, colourful fingerprints decorating the sides and streaked up from where you'd presumably snatched your property out of your students' grabby little hands.

the thought makes his lips quirk upwards into a tiny little half-smile, one that's barely there but you pick up on all the same. pausing in the middle of your sentence, you ask him: "what're you thinking about?"

if rin was smooth, and if he was interested in you, he'd reply with 'just you, babe,' or something else that would make you blush and make him want to die inside. but rin is not smooth, nor is he sure how he feels about you.

it's nothing short of sickening, how you continue to take residence in his mind constantly. if he thought it was bad when he'd first started talking to you, it was a thousand times worse now. rin kind of wishes he could go back in time for the sole purpose of beating the shit out of the past him as a warning to not let you do this to him.

because, if he was being honest, he was scared. the premonition that his feelings toward you might be something like attraction was horrific because god, what was he supposed to do?

his entire life was dedicated to being the best. he was born to be on top and he'd die on that podium, looking down on everyone else. in the past, he'd cared about nothing else but winning.

his dreams, for the longest time, were plagued by pedestals and gold medals, and trophies with his last name but someone else's first. he'd fall asleep to his mind's eye envisioning blood pooling in his gut as he bled for his crown, his crown that was always out of reach.

and then you showed up in them. rin couldn't decide if you made his dreams better or worse. (okay, that was a lie- definitely better, but he's not ready to admit that quite yet.)

in the midst of his bad dreams, you'd come to him, sitting pretty on the train next to him. you'd talk but he'd never be able to remember what you said come morning.

this was bad, rin thinks, he was bad. he was awful and horrible and wrong because he should be dreaming about winning and not you. you were distracting him, being on his mind all the time. while he ran to the train stop, a task that usually cleared his tired mind, all he could picture was you, you, you, waiting for him.

that was another thing. you were waiting for him, and he couldn't not show up. rin's considered changing his routine so he could keep away from you for the sole purpose of fighting his maybe-crush and being able to focus on his sport. he's thought about not replying to your texts, which you sent every afternoon to check in and ask how he was.

but then he pictured you, alone on the train, and he couldn't. the thought of you getting friendly with anyone but him made his skin crawl. what if that boy who sat on the other side by the door tried to talk to you while he wasn't there?

no, no, rin couldn't have that. not when he liked you this much- it was far too late to let go. he'd already done this to himself.

so he keeps coming back, every single morning, just to see your face. there was no denying it anymore- rin liked you. too bad he'd never say a thing.

"rin?" your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "what's up?"

he glares at you like he hates you, but you know better and so does he. "nothing."

you tilt your head. he stares right back at you before conceding. "the paint smudges on your sweater and stuff."

"hm. what about them?"

"your job must be hard."

if he's being honest, rin doesn't really care about what you do. he's just trying very hard to not let the fact that he was smiling thinking about you show.

"it's not that bad," you say, "well, i mean- tedious, sure. plus i hardly get paid, i'm not under contract, and they could just decide to stop paying me at any point since there's nothing making them, technically."

rin raises an eyebrow. "and you say it's not that bad?"

"it's not! really!"

"and you work with kids."

"yeah, so not that bad."

"that's worse." you make a face at him and he fights another smile because how do you do this to him so easily?

"i swear it's not as bad a job as it seems."

"it's not even a job, technically," rin points out.

"okay, okay, you can stop making fun of my position, rin."

your use of his name makes his heart do something weird and nauseating in his chest and he hates it. "whatever."

you hum in contemplation before sitting up in your seat with an idea. "how about you come with me today?"

rin stiffens. "what?"

you don't flinch at his unintentionally bittered tone, and rin feels something strange inside him again. he feels a bit like a fish out of water, being put on the spot like that.

"well, i mean- only if you're free, of course," you twist away from rin ever-so-slightly as you start to backtrack, hands finding their way to fiddle with a strand of your hair, "i don't wanna overstep or anything, and i know you're probably busy and we're just-"

"no."

rin's voice cuts you off. "oh. that's cool, i'm sorry i asked."

oh. that wasn't what he meant to say at all. "no, no, wait. i mean no, stop talking."

"oh. i said i was sorry."

he's really just digging his own grave, at this point.

"wait, wait, wait. i mean.. no, stop talking, yes, i'll go with you."

it's almost comical how you brighten up in a heartbeat, and a strange twinge of pride at the fact that his presence could do that to you zips through his chest.

"oh, i'm great. i mean- that's great. this is great. i'm so excited." you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater and the enamel pins on your bag that he got you jingle and rin thinks that he's stupid for ever considering avoiding you.

and again- if he was a better man, he'd say so. but he's not, so he side-eyes you instead. "are you sure this is even allowed?"

"i am. as long as you're not some kind of criminal, or whatever." you look back at him, eyes creased with amusement. "you're not, yeah?"

"nope. just a few aggravated assault charges." he's only kind of joking (because injuries on the field do not count against him outside of it), and his voice is dry with sarcasm. he's not expecting you to laugh but you do, and he thinks everything he's done to lead up to this moment has been worth it.

"lovely. then you'll be fine. i hope you're good with kids, rin."

his mouth falls into a frown. he'd forgotten about that. he's about to say something but the train lurches or a stop and you're standing, prompting him to follow.

it occurs to rin that this is the first time the both of you have stood next to each other. the slight widening of your eyes at his obscene height is something that amuses him, but he chooses not to comment on.

he also keeps silent about how your beat-down and paint-smudged pair of shoes squeak ever-so-slightly as they exit the train. you move with a slight bounce in your step that makes the shoes pivot and squeal a little in a way that should irritate rin and not endear you to him the way it does.

it's only a short way to the school you work at from the train station, and you talk about menial things the whole way. rin's arms are crossed uncomfortably over his chest as he walks, and the plush insides of his deep blue sweater suddenly feel too hot, and he's feeling clammy even though the sun is hardly out.

you walk through the front office with rin in tow, tailing you while looking incredibly uncomfortable the whole time. the front office ladies chuckle like they know something he doesn't when you check him in and rin kind of wants to punch them. he doesn't, though.

when you lead him to your classroom (or, more precisely- a large storage room that was reassembled with tables and chairs to become a classroom) he's not surprised to find it colorful and bright.

the walls which aren't big windows are practically covered in various pieces- hand turkeys, landscapes, various misshapen animals, crude imitations of people- and a few pieces that are undoubtedly from a much more skilled artist. there are beautiful scenes that look like they're from movies, and there are unique interpretations that seem like they took painstakingly long to create.

he walks up to one- a faceless pair of women. one is sitting on the kitchen counter and the other stirs a bowl of something that looks like cookie dough. it's simple, it's sweet, and it's beautifully made. "you painted this?"

you're placing your bag down on the chair that sits behind the teacher's desk, which is just a repurposed old table. "i did. that's really old, though. kind of embarrassing."

"it's not." his finger traces his newest observation about the painting- your name scrawled in the corner. "it's not."

he's not looking at you, but he knows you're staring at him. he won't look back now, but he wonders what you're thinking. he imagines your quizzical expression, and he imagines the sun filtering in through the windows making you shine as you absorb every colour in the room.

he imagines you looking at him, and he thinks it's the prettiest sight he's ever thought up.

the bell rings after a beat of silence passes. the shrill noise draws you both from your stupor, and rin turns to see you walking around, busying yourself with placing a piece of thick watercolour paper on each desk.

"well," you say, and rin might be imagining it but your voice is a little choked, "we've got.. 2 classes? yeah, two. both will be 7-year-olds today. think you can deal with that?"

rin's eyes narrow. "i thought you said i wouldn't have to deal with any kids."

your face contorts into a smile. "yeah. i know. you can just sit in the back and watch. i'll get them to not bother you."

you gesture to a tiny little desk situated in the back corner of the room and rin cringes internally as he walks up to it. he sees you biting back a laugh and glares. as he takes a seat, his knees are up to his chest and his arms are draped uncomfortably over them.

"this isn't funny," he deadpans as you bite your tongue. with a humiliating amount of effort, he removes himself from the tiny chair and walks back over to the teacher's desk where you stand, crossing his arms over his chest.

"in my defense, i didn't compensate for how tall you'd be. you can just be at my desk, i don't mind."

you place your bag down onto the floor in the corner and rin moves to take your seat. all you have on your desk is a pile of books that are collecting dust, and a dingy computer setup that seemed like it was from the stone ages. there's a series of sticky notes on the black screen- he knows he shouldn't, but he reads a few.

there's a few about restocking some supplies, and even more about various lesson plans. rin thinks you put an awful lot of work into a position that technically isn't legal. and then, his eyes land on his name- in pink pen that stands out on the yellow paper, 'itoshi rin' is scrawled on with a myriad of stars and hearts and squiggles surrounding it.

rin blinks, half expecting the message to vanish. it doesn't. his hand reaches out to take the note but he's interrupted by the room door slamming open and a gaggle of children bursting in.

their teacher seems exhausted, and rightfully so, especially considering it was barely 8 in the morning. she takes a seat close to the exit and slumps over, seemingly asleep, as the students spread around the room.

they take places behind desks and fist the provided paintbrushes in their little grubby hands, chattering amongst themselves as if it's not insanely early. rin watches as you bounce around the room, conversing with the kids who call your name.

his gaze doesn't leave you once, as you move to the front of the classroom to begin your speech on today's assignment. he's only half-listening, but he catches short phrases. it's something about practicing watercolour responsibly and learning to work with a new medium.

rin's never been an art kid. he's never seen the appeal. but the way you seem so excited to be there, and so genuinely happy to teach, makes him think that he should be listening, too.

the kids start to paint, now. he notices how some of them start with a pencil, tracing crude outlines of whatever they're trying to make, while others dive headfirst into the watercolour. you weave around desks lavishing them in praise, and rin wonders what you were like when you were their age.

little feet begin to scramble around the classroom as the assigned seating chart dissolves with time. you don't seem to care all too much, continuing to help a student- a little girl, with tiny, short pigtails tied off with purple scrunchies.

he doesn't realize he's been watching you until the girl catches his eye and says something he can only kind of make out. "who's that guy lookin' at you all mean?"

her finger points straight at rin, and he promptly pretends like he was very invested in the blank screen of your 1900s computer. he sneaks a glance back to see your eyes fixed on him before returning to the girl with an awkward laugh.

"ah, him! he's.. my friend. he's just sticking with me today," you smile, and feels himself sink into the chair deeper. he's not sure what he feels at the use of the word 'friend' but he doesn't think he likes it.

but it was a fine answer. it was decent, it was true- what, did he expect more? if he did, clearly he wasn't the only one because the little girl with the pigtails gives you a look. rather loudly, she exclaims "you mean your boyfriend?"

you blanch at her words and rin's subtle gaze returns to a full-on stare as he watched your reactions. "asami, not so loud! indoor voices," you try to sound authoritative but your voice splinters and sea of little faces is suddenly turned to face you.

and then, slowly, like a horror movie, the 20-something 7-year-olds pivot to face rin.

a little voice speaks up. "you're ms. teacher's boyfriend?"

in a normal scenario, rin would probably linger on the fact that you were addressed as 'ms. teacher' as if you had no other name. but with an ocean of inquisitive eyes, yours especially, he felt a little frozen. just as he was about to snap open his mouth to say something probably cruel and snippy, you jumped in.

rushing to the front of the crowd you wave your hands frantically, trying to maintain your cheery disposition while sweating through your clothes with anxiety. "no, no! he's- he's not my boyfriend! and don't bother him, please, he doesn't.. speak the language! he's from.. germany!"

it's a bad lie. horrible, even. and it would take a fool to fall for it- either a fool or a collection of unbelievably innocent children.

"oh!" one pipes up, "is that why he's so mean and doesn't talk?"

you furrow your brow. "we don't call people mean, remember."

and just like that, everything is back to normal. or, at least, however normal this situation could be. the students resume their artistry and continue scurrying like mice around the room to show off their creations or grab fresh sheets of paper.

you walk up to rin, and he hopes his ears have turned less red at this point as you sit on the desk in front of him. "see? not so bad."

he narrows his eyes. "are we in the same room right now? did you not just see that?'

you sigh dramatically and place your hands behind you as you slouch back. "maybe they're right. you are mean."

"okay?"

"you should be ashamed of yourself, y'know."

"you really do sound like a schoolteacher." at this you laugh and swat at his shoulder, eliciting a tiny could-be smile from rin. "never say that to me again."

and it seems like cutting rin off is a fun activity, because a little boy with messy brown hair skips up to the desk and basically shouts, "hello!"

the thing is, he's not talking to you- he's talking to rin. big, doe eyes are fixed on the striker expectantly, and he rolls back and forth on heels while clutching something in his hands behind his back.

rin blinks. "hi."

he sounds mean, he's sure, and definitely not german, but the kid doesn't seem to notice or care. "i think germ-in-ey is so neat! i made you this!"

the country is pronounced like he's speaking with rocks in his mouth but the boy's smile is bright and he holds a kind-of crumbled piece of watercolour paper in his hands.

it's still dripping and incredibly poorly done. what appears to be a house? or a building of some kind? is splattered onto a green line that might be grass. a blob that could be a body if you squinted hard enough is attached to a big oval with messy dark hair, angry eyebrows paired with neon blue eyes, and the biggest eyelashes the world has ever seen. they extended from all the way inside the eye to the sticks that rin supposes must be hands.

a random rectangle with doodles inside is in the top left corner. a little label reads 'german flag' in pencil.

rin blinks at the paper and looks dully at the kid. he feels your eyes staring into him, too, and he opens his mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.

"this looks bad," he speaks before he knows what's coming, eyes widening at his own words. a deep pit of guilt opens in his stomach as the boy retracts his hands with the paper. oh, my god, what did he just say?

he is unbelieveably lucky that you are still next to him at that moment, because you jump in to save the day yet again:

"haru! don't worry about him- he's german, remember? he doesn't know how to say what he means! bad in german actually just.. uh.. means really, really good!"

the boy instantly brightens up again, like a wilting flower back in bloom. "really? that's so cool! i didn't know they spoke german in germ-in-ey!"

you return his bright smile. "how crazy! what a small world!"

the little boy skips away, leaving his masterpiece in your hands, and rin lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"oh, wow," you say with a sparkle of amusement in your eyes, "i didn't know you were this horrid with kids."

a grumble of annoyance leaves him, but he's more embarrassed than anything at this point. "and i didn't know i was german."

you shrug. "it was the first thing that came to mind. it worked, didn't it?"

rin ignores your question. "i can't believe you let that kid go off thinking 'bad' means good. he's gonna go around telling everyone that."

"i.. did not consider this," you purse your lips, "it's his teacher's problem. i don't even work here, technically."

"so you're a random person who comes onto campus and spreads lies to children."

a smile splits your face. "at least i'm a nice liar."

"nice?"

"oh. ouch. okay, thanks rin."

and he exhales, and it's no longer just a half-smile, because you see it so clearly on his face- the way his lips turn up at your words as he speaks. "yeah. anytime."

it's then that itoshi rin has a moment of infinite clarity- he's fallen for you. he doesn't like that fact, nor does he understand the intricacies of this romance.

he likes you. that's all there is to it. rin doesn't see why there needs to be any more. it's not like he'll tell you and even though the feeling of repressed and realized emotions in his chest is something a little unbearable, he's dealt with worse. and he thinks he'd rather keep his mornings beautiful than run the risk of messing it all up.

so rin thinks he'll settle for being in your background, as he watches you hop off the desk and move to help the students as they finish their paintings and clean up.

they sing a stupid jingle about keeping things neat that makes you laugh in the way you do where your head tips back just a little, and rin swears it's his favourite sound in the world.

it's another hour and another class before you're finally done with your work. the second one was thankfully a lot less strenuous for rin- none of the students paid him much mind at all, save for the occasional curious glance every so often.

"bye ms. teacher!" the final student belted before leaving, slamming the door with a resounding thud. you wave cheerfully and take a deep breath as soon as the kid is out of sight. "and we're done! how was that, rin? you just got the full fake-teacher experience."

rin stands from his place behind your desk and stretches out his limbs, slightly sore from being in one place for so long. "as bad as i thought it'd be."

"you're always so negative."

"glad you noticed."

you roll your eyes and grab a spray bottle and washcloths off the highest shelves. "help me clean?"

wordlessly, he catches the rag you toss and the other bottle. the two of you work in silence for a few moments, wiping down the desks that the students had done their best at keeping neat. the only noises were the muffled sounds of the cafeteria during lunchtime outside and the ever-present squeaks your shoes made.

the lighting through the window lit the scene golden and turned all the colors and textures and works in your classroom even more beautiful. and not just them- rin thinks that you look breathtaking in the sunlight. a part of him suspects that it was invented just for you.

"what did you think?"

rin looks up at your voice. "hm?"

"what did you think? about this, i mean."

he looks at you for a moment. this is a new expression, the one you're wearing- at least, one he's never been able to observe unobstructed. you almost seem bashful, in the sunlight, refusing to meet his eyes.

"i think," he says, and he's so careful because he thinks he'd die of embarrassment if he misspoke and insulted you again, "that this makes sense."

"what?"

he frowns, not wanting to explain himself. "you loving this. it makes sense."

"i actually have no idea what you mean by that."

he scoffs, "whatever," but you keep pushing, curiously leaning over the table and placing your washcloth down.

"you can't just 'whatever' me. i'm curious now."

"you're irritating."

"i'm aware." you keep looking at him and it's no surprise to him when his conviction crumbles into dust and ash.

"you just seem like an art person." he tries and fails to get his point across. you raise a brow. "are you profiling me? what, do i seem like your starving artist trope?"

"no, no," he grumbles, "like, you're.."

and he's not sure.

rin has no idea how to follow up his words. because he thinks so many things of you- he thinks you're kind, in ways he will never be, and he thinks you're pretty enough to rival the sun, and he thinks you're flat out lovely- but he can't convey it all into one word.

"you're just you," he says. it's a simple statement, said with a conviction that doesn't match the quiet tone of his voice. he speaks softly, like he's afraid you might disappear if he was too loud.

blinking, you meet his gaze, and rin hopes you can see yourself how he sees you in the reflection. he hopes you see yourself like gold, and all the colours in the world, and as the essence of creativity- he hopes you know that he sees you as art, plain and simple.

but your expression is unreadable. he wonders if his is, too. and rin also wonders what you see when you look at him, because you're suddenly inhaling sharply and pivoting, busing yourself with straightening up jaws that don't really need to be fixed.

"well, rin," you say, and your voice is a pitch higher, "i didn't mean to keep you so long. i'm sorry you got held up here."

you're laughing, but it sounds strained, and rin wishes he could go up and smooth whatever's bothering you out from your skin, but that's creepy so he'd rather not.

"i didn't stay so long because you made me or anything. i wanted to."

"oh." you freeze for a split second before continuing to scrub a little too vigorously, "uh. thanks."

"i like your paintings," he blurts out. it's not fitting as a response, and he should've just said 'you're welcome' and moved on with his life, but he feels like he needs to say something, and relieve at least a fraction of the burden off his chest. he likes your paintings, and he likes you, but he can't say that quite yet.

"oh! i didn't take you as an art connoisseur."

"i'm not."

and he was telling the truth- rin knew virtually nothing about art. he remembers his own experiences with the subject, all limited to his pre-teen years in school, where he'd been forced to make whatever the teacher commanded.

his work had always been lopsided and a little fugly, but in the spirit of learning no one had ever said anything. it was always 'that's so good!' or 'you're so creative!' or 'nice cat!' when it was meant to be a tree.

"not even a little bit?" you hum as you lean onto your tiptoes, struggling to push a bottle of cleaning solution back into the space. rin moves to your side, placing it on for you. he misses how you go breathless at his actions.

"was never an art kid," he says simply.

you purse your lips in that stupid way he's noticed you do when something doesn't go right, and shake your head. "i don't buy it."

he raises an eyebrow. "what?"

"i don't believe that."

"you're just.. rejecting my statement?"

"yeah. everyone's an art kid."

rin considers your words before shaking his head. "no. you're just weird."

rolling your eyes, you're suddenly gone again to the front of the classroom, rifling through a set of overworked cabinets that seem to be bursting at the seams. you come back to the desk rin was standing by with a full arm of various supplies- he recognizes paper, canvas, pencils, gouache paints, and brushes.

"everyone's an art kid," you repeat, "you just never had anyone show you right."

"you sound fucking crazy."

"yeah, probably," you reply, motioning for him to sit down on the chair. he complies, and you hop up to take a seat on the desk again.

"and cheesy as hell. like a stupid nickelodeon character."

"that's a little far. be nicer to me! i'm about to give you free painting lessons."

"ones that i didn't ask for."

you sit back on your hands. "you could leave if you wanted."

rin is silent. you smile. "lessons it is."

‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° ｡ ˚ 𓆛 ˚ ｡ ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊

you might have been a little bit incorrect in your approach. rin is kind of a little bit hopeless with art.

"just a straight line," you're practically begging, "just one. you can do it."

rin proceeds to draw another very un-straight line to go with all the other ones on the piece of paper.

that was okay, though! maybe pencils just weren't for him. you could live with that. you'd brought out some paints just for this possibility, after all.

painting is difficult to mess up. you slap some colors on a canvas, call it modern art, and you're set- that was your philosophy. anyone could paint. anyone, you now think, except for itoshi rin.

"are you colourblind?" you say, and you're not trying to be mean, you're genuine, because he had just used the most horrendous choice of color palate he could have had.

"shut up," he scowls, covering his face with his hands. "you're a shit teacher."

you gawk at him. "how is this on me?"

"your stupid 'art kid' philosophy. plus, you've just been staring, not teaching."

you frown. okay, yeah, maybe you had been a little bit stare-y, but it's not really your fault. he just has one of those faces that would be criminal not to stare at. an idea pops up in your mind, and you hop off the desk.

rin turns his head to follow you as you move behind him. "what are you doing?"

"i'm teaching," you bite back playfully, leaning over his figure. you take a hold of his hand with the paintbrush, and you're both so close that you can hear his heartbeat speeding up inside of his chest. you wonder if he can feel yours do the same.

your hand ghosts his before you take a hold, grabbing it gently. his palms are warm and his whole body seems to radiate heat. the skin of his hand is rough and calloused.

"like this," you instruct, dragging the brush slowly across the canvas. it's already a smoother, straighter line than his previous ones. rin remains speechless, but he lets you take control of his movements. you direct him gently and he moves in return, like a slow dance on canvas.

after some time, a scene is playing out on the formerly blank space before the both of you. it's the classroom, complete with the yellowed lighting of the sun coming through the windows and the blocks of color to represent the various works hanging on the walls. it's a crude imitation of reality, but a piece of you and a piece of him, and you think that makes it beautiful.

"see?" you say, breaking the silence, "you did that."

you move to release your grip on rin's hand but he clasps his other one over it without thinking. you blink at him. he lets go, embarrassed.

"you did most of the work," he shrugs off, but it feels like he's just talking to himself, "i was just there."

"hm. you're right, but come on! give yourself some credit."

your attempt to lighten the heavy tension in the air falls onto deaf ears. "i should go," he mumbles, standing.

"oh."

"bye." his words lack the usual edge, and he seems more confused than upset. still, you wonder if you've overstepped and a pit forms in your stomach.

"bye," you say, but he's already out the door.

you try not to be too upset about it, but it's a little difficult. you've liked rin since before you even knew his name, and you were far too stubborn to let it go just yet.

you'd been almost 100% he felt the same, too. but again, your pride wouldn't allow you to make the first move. and his reaction to the closeness didn't bode well for your intentions.

a surge of disappointment consumes your chest and everything suddenly feels a lot heavier. your regular cable-knit feels itchy and too hot on your skin. you bite your tongue.

your friends have mocked you for your infatuation with this faceless 'itoshi rin.' they've encouraged you to move on from this crush that was seemingly going nowhere until almost a month ago, even going as far as to try and set you up with someone. maybe you should finally look into that offer,

you sigh to yourself and flop back onto the hard wood of the desk. oh well, you think, you'll see him tomorrow anyway.

the next week of early morning train rides is missing something.

rin notices it almost right away- how you sit a little farther from him, you you're just a little more skittish and quick to leave. it's a stab in the gut every single time, and he's not sure how he can mend the undeniable rift forming between the both of you.

he's not sure what happened. was it his leaving? had that upset you? why?

the invisible wound of unspoken words festered like mould as the morning conversations grew shorter and stiffer, and he felt helpless like he never had before.

and then, you bring something up that makes his heart plummet.

"this afternoon? i think i have a date, actually."

he shouldn't be mad. he shouldn't be upset. but doesn't he have the right? the person he likes, and ew, he hates admitting that, is going on a date with someone else.

"oh."

"mhm. my best friend's friend- she's been trying to get me to go out with him for ages."

"oh."

"tomorrow night, i think it is."

"hm."

"i hope it goes well."

"why?"

again, rin's mouth runs separately from his conscience. he wants to hit himself. you have no obligation to answer, because the both of you are just friends, maybe even less.

you blink, looking over at him. "i mean.. why not?"

the rest of the train ride continues in awkward silence until you get off. you give him a brief smile but you don't say goodbye, and rin watches your figure walk away until the train starts again and he can't anymore.

there is a very strange emotion, that rin is experiencing. he recognizes parts of it- that same bitter, green envy that curls around his lungs and squeezes til he can't breathe. he's familiar, but never in this context.

and then there's something darker that hurts his chest. it reminds him of growing pains, and of valentine's day, and of things he never thought he could have wanted. it reminds rin of you, and he is so, so distraught.

that afternoon, he waits for your text. usually, your messages are usual, like clockwork. you'd message him around 1 when you were on the train ride home, either to update him about your day or send him a game pigeon game.

he always indulged your messages, and he'd never let you see but you were one of the pinned contacts on his phone.

that day, however, your text never comes.

he's so pathetic for how he sits in the locker room at 2, alone, staring at his phone screen. he's sad for how he's taking a break from practicing at 3 just in case you message. he's stupid for how he spends the next few hours just waiting for a notification that he knows will probably never come.

it's 10 now, and rin has never felt more tired.

he's about to go to bed, having his night clothes lined up on his bed and brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror. it was an average, regular day- there was nothing special nor abnormal, but everything just felt so wrong.

he wonders if you were on your date then, as he spits his toothpaste into the sink. he wonders what you wore- if you donned your white cable-knit or your squeaky paint-smudged shoes. he wonders if you carried the bag he got you, pins and all. he wonders if your date held open the door like he would have, or if he joked around with you like he did (kind of.)

rin wonders where you were. he wonders if you were okay.

and then, his phone rings.

your name lights up his screen and suddenly, he's not so exhausted. he answers a little too haistily on the 1st ring.

"hello?"

there's a short pause, but he can hear the way your breath comes in short huffs on the other side of the line. this was strange- the both of you had never called before.

"rin?" your voice is crackly in a way he could accredit to the poor reception wherever you were, but something in his heart wrenches and there's an undertone that is undeniably distress in your voice.

"yeah? what's up?" he's already bustling around his home, though, grateful he hasn't changed yet as he pulls out his shoes.

"are you doing anything?"

"no," he lies.

"i'm sorry then, 'cause i know it's late, but- um, yeah. i'm about to get on the train. like usual, just the night one. but, i don't want to bother you, so-"

"no. keep going."

another silence follows rin's words before you continue. "could you.. come here? i know it's dumb, askin' you to ride the train here just to come back with me but," and your voice cracks, "i don't really want to be alone right now."

rin exhales. he's already outside, walking briskly through the cold night air with his free hand stuffed in his jeans pockets as he makes his way to the train stop.

"i'm on my way."

‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° ｡ ˚ 𓆛 ˚ ｡ ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊

when rin gets on the night train, you're the only other passenger on board. you're huddled up in your usual seat with your knees drawn up to your chin and eyes misty with something dismal. you look at rin and he's heartbroken for you, because nothing should ever make you this upset.

but you offer him a weak grin and move to sit normally, patting his seat next to you. he notes that you are indeed carrying the same bag he got you.

the new distance isn't present when he takes his place beside you. in fact, he's so close tonight that he can almost feel your thigh brush his. he eyes you cautiously, unsure how to begin. thankfully, you answer his questions before he needs to ask.

"remember my date?" rin nods. how could he forget?

"it was kind of awful," you concede with a watery laugh. "he was all fine, at first- but i just wasn't interested. he asked for a second date, and i said no thanks- he just- he yelled at me. called me all sorts of things. i dunno."

his heart tightens in his chest as you keep going. "it's not a big deal but i didn't really- i'm not sure. i'm not sure."

he doesn't think too much about his next actions, as his hand curls around your shoulder. you're all too complacent, letting yourself be pulled into the warm fabric of his crewneck. he hopes you can hear his heartbeat pick up its pace. he hopes yours does the same.

rin allows you to bury yourself in his warmth, to acquaint yourself for a few moments before he starts talking. "last week i went to the grocery store and i saw this lady with her cats," he said.

you glance up at him quizically but his arm holds fast, keeping you there as he continues: "she was old. probably too old to be toting around all those groceries.

"i would've offered to help but then i took another look- she was ripped."

a muffled laugh escapes you. "for real?"

"yeah. i mean it."

"a ripped old lady with cats, huh? what was she getting?"

"blueberries."

he thinks he feels your smile against the fabric of his clothes. "blueberries. that's nice."

"and just a few days ago, i think, i was on my run and i passed by this apartment, right?"

"mhm."

"and i hear yelling. so i stop."

"yeah?"

"on the balcony of the apartment, there was this woman and some guy. they were in their 20s, i think. and she was screaming at him."

"oh? what about?"

your voice is thickening again, but this time with exhaustion. the occurrences of your day were finally weighing on you, rin presumes. he keeps talking.

"something about him being unfaithful. then she threw his gaming console off the balcony."

"oh," you say, with a slight yawn, "that sounds so funny. i wish i was there."

"me too."

rin really should break this habit he's beginning to form. it definitely isn't a great idea to share all his innermost thoughts with you always- but lucky for him, you seem too tired to notice the accidental compliment.

"good for her," you mumble.

"good for her," he repeats.

you tilt prop your chin up on him to meet his gaze. your eyes are heavy with exhaustion and bags are formed beneath your eyes, and your hair is frazzled and messy but rin thinks this might be the prettiest he's ever seen you.

you're dead on your feet, but you're still looking at him. you're feeling so many things and you're still you. his hand absentmindedly flutters accross the back of your head to flatten your hair as you begin to speak.

"you're so nice." is all you say. rin looks at you, incredulous.

"you are," you insist, breaking away from him for a moment with your hand pushing yourself off of his chest. "you wanted to help that old woman. you heard yelling and stopped in case someone needed help. you're here at 10pm after i messed everything up."

rin blinks.

you've always been the kind of person to make him think. you made him reconsider his own future, his capacity for love, his interest in romance- you made him think about it all. but there was one thing that was a constant, that he didn't think even you could make him reconsider- the fact that he wasn't a good person.

it's then that it dawns upon itoshi rin- he doesn't see himself as worth loving. his life's purpose was success, and without it, was he even worth caring about? and on top of all that, he was cruel.

he cared about no one. he was blunt, and he was unfriendly, and when he was in school people walked away. the neighborhood kids all hid from him, and his teammates never bothered to even try and introduce him to new faces anymore.

itoshi rin was mean and cruel, a fact that he had decided for himself and then been enforced by the people around him. itoshi rin was not worth anything without a gold medal to demonstrate his value. itoshi rin was not worth caring about, because he'd just hurt you. itoshi rin didn't think himself even capable of wanting anything but to win.

and itoshi rin was proven wrong the day he met you.

because he'd fallen for you, with your shoddy footwear and worn-out zip-up that could hardly be considered white anymore. he'd fallen for you and the way you always had something to say, and he'd fallen for you, who could see the art in anything- even hideous artwork made by unskilled 7-year-olds, even teenage boys who couldn't find it in themselves to admit that they loved you.

you must've changed him, he thinks, or at least brought out a part of him that he'd long since forgotten had existed. because now, on this train at 10 pm with you still staring at him with intent, tired eyes- he thinks he sees it, too, in a way that he thinks you might've been trying to get him to see from perhaps the very beginning.

he sees himself, itoshi rin, as artwork. and he sees you- the artist.

it's beautiful, how the world explodes into colour at that moment. the night sky outside the train window has never been quite so beautiful, and he thinks he can see all the stars in the world even though he's not even looking at them. his eyes are trained on yours, and there's nothing left to do, say, or realize, so he just pulls you back into himself and keeps talking.

"and then two days ago, i think, i was at practice. and my teammate opens his locker, and a squirrel falls out. nanase- that's his name- was terrified."

it's almost comical, how the roles have reversed. usually, you were the storyteller, and he was the patient listener. he doesn't remember the last time he spoke to someone in such a one-sided fashion for so long, but he doesn't really care anymore.

"apparently it was bachira. no one was really surprised."

he looks down at you, and you're finally asleep. your breathing is even, and he can only partially see your face. your cheeks are patchy from previous tears, but the way your features are relaxed amends for the hurt. his hand holds your head close, still, fingers absently massaging your scalp.

the silence carries on for a few beats. he watches your inhales and exhales when you do. when he finally talks, he's even quieter.

"i missed talking to you," he finally admits. it's almost as if he's admitting this to himself rather than you, with the way he leaves the words to hang in the air.

"so much," he adds, "it was fucking gross."

he continues to speak. perhaps this was his confession- he'd tell you his truths, the fact that he liked you, and the fact that he'd never be able to say it to your face. he doesn't see the harm, not on the empty night train with just him to hear.

"when we were all.. distant. i hated that. i had so much to say to you. i guess i always have. because," he lets an aggravated sigh, "i just didn't know.

"you're rubbing off on me, i guess. you and your stupid.. i dunno. just you. you make me so weird inside."

he pauses like he's waiting for you to say something, even though he knows you can't even register his words. he frowns and rewinds:

"that day. a week and a day ago. i left.

"you were so close to my face, so close to me- i dunno. i guess- i guess i just panicked. because i shouldn't like you. you're so.. you. and i'm nowhere near that. so i left.

"i wanted to kiss you. i want to all the time, it's fucking awful. when you told me about your date today? i hated every second of that. i just wanted to tell you but i couldn't. i don't know why, though.

"i still can't tell you. don't know if i will. but it's out there, now. i like you," rin laments, the last words foreign and unwelcome on his tongue.

"i like you. i like you a lot."

rin thinks his words should be followed by silence. he thinks that they'll hang and vanish in the air like his breathe, and he thinks it'll be gone forever, just like that. he thinks the next morning, he'll find a new morning routine and delete your contact.

but your breath hitches, and your body stiffens ever so slightly against rin's as his confession exits his lips. rin freezes, his hand falling dormant in the air behind your head.

you rise from his chest, and an empty cavity of dread is left in your place. the quiet is so poignant that you could hear a hairpin drop. he stares at you. you stare at him.

"rin," you start slowly, voice rough around the edges with sleep.

(the train rumbles distantly in the background. faintly, rin wonders when his stop would be.)

"you like me?"

he is silent. you blink once. then twice. and then you move. from your place next to him, you take his hand in both of yours and shift it to your lap.

"you like me."

it's not so much of a question now as it is an answer. your skin is cold against his, and it reminds him of the afternoon spent in your classroom where he learned of his limits for the first time.

"and you said you want to kiss me all the time," you continue, and rin thinks he'd be utterly humiliated if he wasn't so frozen.

"so why don't you?"

your question is one that lingers, hanging in the air like a heavy mist or smoke, and his lungs feel like they're being weighed down by the steeled sky.

you're right for asking, because why didn't he? why had he run, that day in your classroom? why had he let you grow so distant from him in the week that followed?

rin has always been one for pushing his limits. even when his body was broken over his sport, but he kept going because that was what was right to do. it was his purpose, and he didn't matter much outside of that.

but things were different now that he'd met you. rin decides that he just might be worth something more than a victory, because you look at him with a reverence, an affection, that tells him that he's maybe more than that.

you hold his hand in yours like it's glass, and your expression is soft with a curious lilt, and his hand is on your side and traveling to your back, and his other one is in your hair, and his lips are pressed on yours like he needs you, because fuck it, rin decides, he's never cared much for limitations anyway.

you kiss him back before long. it's messy and crude, and all teeth and bumping noses, and a long time in the making. you pull away before he does and he chases your lips like a starved man. but you duck your face into the crook of his neck, body as close as you could manage on the uncomfortable train seat. he feels you laugh into his neck, and he can't help the smile that spreads on his face.

"fucking finally," he says quietly, more to himself than you.

"finally," you agree, as the train slows to a stop. you glance up to check the destination- oh. it's your stop- your apartment block was only a short walk from here.

"this is where i am," you say, trying to find it in yourself to stand up. rin beats you to it, emerging from his seat and pulling you with him.

"i'm walking you home." he's no longer holding your hand, but his pinky finger is interlaced with yours, and he gives a surprisingly firm tug as he ushers you to the exit. "let's go."

you skitter along right behind him as the cold air rushes against his face, planting rosy, frosty kisses against his skin. you swing your joined arms with a wicked grin like you know it'll annoy him but he's not about to tell you to stop.

and if rin thought you were the prettiest in your classroom, or prettiest on the train, he was sorely mistaken because you're nothing short of gorgeous now, in the night air holding his hand, with a big, dopey grin on your face and his name on your lips.

he thinks he'd like to kiss you again, so he stops in his tracks on the sidewalk. you lurch to a halt, and call his name questioningly. he kisses you again because he can now, and you kiss him back, and he can do this again, and again, and again, because what's stopping him now?

the weeks following the emergence of your newly formed relationship are nothing short of blissful.

neither of you discussed your relationship status- it was just implied that he was your boyfriend now, because rin is almost sure he'd implode if he had to consider his feelings any longer.

your routines had both amended themselves around each other. every day, you'd meet on the morning train. he'd come to your classroom and sit through your lessons with you, and the both of you would go to either your apartment, his house, or whatever other destination was on one of your to-do lists. he'd go off for practice in the afternoons, but he never missed you too much.

he knew your texts would be waiting to be answered, without fail, and he knew you'd always be waiting for his call. and it felt nice to have someone- someone who cared for him, someone to call his own, someone who waited for him, someone he'd won.

rin thinks that he'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked, and especially if you didn't. he sees it as mature and responsible- someone has to keep you in check. you just call him clingy.

this is how he finds himself at a farmer's market. it's bustling, and nostalgic, and crowded, and probably not his scene. but you're there, so he'll make it work.

"oh, there's so many things. uh, let's see," you fumble with your phone, pulling up your list from your phone, "naomi can't have peanuts. asami is allergic to.. strawberries? how sad. and hiroshi will probably start crying if he sees cucumber. god, kids get weirder and weirder by the day."

you've been roped into helping host the graduation party for this year's oldest elementary students, most of which you knew by name. you'd been stuck with the food prep which rin didn't really understand assigning to you, since it's presumably the hardest task and you're not even a real employee.

"what's left, then?"

"uh.. i think we can make blueberry pie or something. and if they don't like it, it's not my fault because i tried."

"i'm not helping."

"no, no. you are. you don't have a choice in this."

he scoffs, and is about to reply, when-

"ms. teacher! hi, hi! hi!"

a little tiny pair of legs attached to a blur of brown hair as a small boy hurtles into your legs, capturing you into a hug the best he can. you let out a huff as the wind is knocked out of you.

looking down, rin recognizes the same kid- the same one who had made the watercolour painting of him and was surprised that they spoke german in 'germ-in-ey'.

"haru? hi yourself! what're you doing here?"

you almost instantly kneel down to meet his eyes and haru immediately giggles and taps the side of your head. "bonk, bonk!"

you laugh. "that isn't an answer, buddy."

the boy rocks back and forth on the heels of his feet with his hands fidgeting with each other in front of him, and rin is both enamoured by your endless warmth and feeling very out of place, standing awkwardly behind you like a scared child.

"my mama runs a fruit shore. yum, fruit! 'nd, i get to ex-spore! 'cause they're all busy with the fruit shore!"

"really? how cool!"

"yeah, yeah! 'nd, why are you here ms. teacher?"

you pretend to be in deep contemplation, tapping your finger on your chin. "well, if i tell you, you've got to keep it a secret, 'kay?"

"pinky swear! swear it!"

"it's for a surprise party."

haru looks like you just told him nuclear secrets. "oh my gosh!"

he squirms where he stands, running around in circles. "a sur-pies party! a sur-pies party!"

and then he stills, looking at you with the utmost serious expression that cracks a grin onto even rin's face. "i swear i won't tell anyone about your sur-pies party."

"thank you very much, haru. i appreciate it," you reply, with equal seriousness.

and then, haru's eyes wander over to rin.

"mr. germ-in-ey!"

rin cringes. he wasn't mentally prepared for this, not today. "hi."

haru seems to have forgotten that people from germany tend to speak german, because he converses with rin like there's no implicit barrier there. "hey, hi! i didn't know you went outside the school!"

rin's brows furrow and you stand, laughing. "what?"

"you're always in ms. teacher's classroom. in the back, all sad."

he frowns. "i'm not sad."

haru surveys him, and he feels a little ridiculous getting once-overed by a 7-year-old. "no," haru agrees, "not anymore!"

at this, you chime in. "oh? what changed?"

rin glares at you over his shoulder and you return with a bemused expression. haru mimics your previous posture, with his hands on his chin like he's stroking a beard.

"you guys are in love!"

you freeze, shooting up straight with wide eyes. rin stares at the kid.

"come again, haru?" you manage to choke out, perhaps hoping that you heard him wrong.

"you guys are in L-O-E-V-E!" haru sings the words out, spelling it wrong but still reinforcing his previous statement.

rin is flabbergasted, and you choke on your saliva. bystanders are beginning to look at the scene unfolding, and you attempt to straighten yourself out while rin takes a step away.

"uh, haru," you say, letting out a breath and an awkward laugh, "why don't you go find your mom? tell her i say hi."

haru hums before nodding like he'd entirely forgotten the previous conversation. he scuttles away with the speed of a scared cat. rin directs his gaze to you and shoots you a look.

"your students are so fucking strange."

you sigh, "yeah. yeah, they are."

he pauses. and lets out the heaviest, most resigned sigh he thinks he's ever managed before. "but they're not wrong."

you look at him blankly, before you process his words. and then you're positively beaming as rin makes a face.

"ugh, gross. forget i said that. that was vile."

"awh, rin!" you say, disregarding his statement, "you're so cute! so, so cute!"

you close the distance between him and you, and he ducks his face away but makes no real effort to move. "i hate you so much."

"i don't think so," you hum, getting infinitely closer to his face. he's sure you can feel the heat radiating off him at your proximity, as you continue: "i think that you are obsessed with me."

your lips are ghosting the corner of his mouth and he doesn't realize he was holding his breath until you pull away, eyes suddenly wide with realization.

"oh my god," you say, all the teasing removed from your voice and instead replaced with a daunting sobriety, "haru is going to tell the entire class. the entire school."

rin blinks. "okay? and?"

"no, you don't get it!" you grab his arm, a genuine terror that is almost comical shining in them. "i'm going to be trampled."

your boyfriend shrugs. "i don't see how that's my issue."

"you idiot. you come with me every day."

"so?"

"you're never going to know peace again."

rin finally gets it, and he frowns deeper than he thinks he ever has. "i'm breaking up with you, then. no way am i dealing with that."

you roll your eyes and sigh, and rin laughs- it's quiet and short but real and genuine, and he sees the love brimming in your eyes as you follow his movements.

"god, i love you."

your words catch him off guard. but he takes your hand as a response. rin doesn't think he can say it back, not right now- but you know he does, and this time, so does he.

because rin loves you, and you love him, simple as that. there are no limits, there are no rules- just brushstrokes on a canvas, just an artist and a muse.

in that moment, in the middle of the bustling farmer's market, you and rin are all alone, and he thinks to himself: he would spend forever counting the passengers on a train if it meant he would meet you.

he'd spend years if he had to, waiting for his girl, the one with a white worn-out zip-up and shoes that were on their last few wears, and a denim bag smeared with paint and decorated with pins, and a smile to rival the sun.

he'd give it all to meet you again, and he'd give even more if you asked. in truth, there's nothing he wouldn't do to fall in love with you all over again- but he doesn't need to imagine, because you make it happen every day.

because truly, it may have started in just a few mornings, but it would always end with you.

(3 weeks later, mrs. sato appears on the morning train again.

you and rin are seated in conversation, bodies turned towards each other as he listens to your words. you're both interrupted when the train doors shut and a voice calls your name.

"ah, what have i missed! do my eyes deceive me, or is there a lovely new couple in my presence?"

you grin at her arrival. "oh my gosh, mrs. sato?"

the older woman hobbles over to sit down in front of you. "you have so much to tell me," she states, wrinkled smile gleaming with childlike joy.

rin frowns. why is it such a common trend to make him the 3rd wheel in his own relationship?

rin listens in as you narrate the course of your relationship, thankfully skipping out some more personal pieces, with a pink face and blood warming the tips of his ears.

and in turn, you learn that in mrs. sato's absence, she'd been partying all over the bahamas on a cruise, making a few crude and suggestive jokes about ship crew boys. "ah, but i can't say that anymore, can i? not with your boyfriend here. girl talk."

rin crosses his arms over his chest, looking and feeling a bit ridiculous with your bag on his laugh. mrs. sato cackles. he thinks she reminds him of a witch, just a little.

"ah, well, i hope you didn't miss me too much, dear. i'm off again- to jamaica this time!" mrs. sato exclaims and you smile supportively even though rin can tell you're more amused than anything.

"when do you leave?"

"tonight," she laughs, "i'm going to the airport right now."

when mrs. sato leaves and bids you and rin farewell with a hug and wink respectively. rin looks at you questioningly. "i can't believe you speak to her."

you grimace. "she's terrifying. i think if i wasn't friendly she'd hunt me down."

"probably. wouldn't be hard."

"i should send you to jamaica with her."

"i'd take some cruise boys over you any day."

"i'd pick them over you, too"

rin smiles. his hand taps a rhythm onto your knee. "so what're we doing today?"

"after school, i think it's finally time i buy new shoes. it's been long enough."

he frowns. "i like your shoes."

"they're like, a million years old. there's a hole in the sole."

"oh."

"you can pick them, since you clearly seem to think your fashion sense is better than mine."

"it is, actually."

"you're horrible, y'know that?"

"yep."

the train stops, and you stand before he does. you extend your hand for him to take.

he takes it without hesitation.)

##: if you read this long, hey! writing this actually made me insane i'm not gonna lie! but it's finally out, and genuinely would mean the world if u left a like, reblog, or comment :,) feedback keeps me motivated!

#blue lock x reader #itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk rin #rin itoshi #rin x reader #itoshi x reader #reader insert

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keerysfreckles · 5 months

Note

omg hii i haven’t requested stuff before anywhere so idk if i’m doing this right but 😭😭 i would loveee a luke castellan imagine where it’s like an angsty friends to lovers with a happy ending… kind of like the song friends by chase atlantic idk sjdieie (ps i loveee ur writing ur so talented)

brutal — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns (yknow the drill), slight cursing

a/n: did i watch mamma mia twice today? yes. will i watch it again tomorrow? yes.

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n l/n wasn't sure why luke castellan was acting weird. was it something she had done? maybe it's his time of the month. she'll never know because she's too afraid to ask. she hasn't seen the hermes' boy all day, and wasn't going to bother looking for him now.

y/n was supposed to be mad at luke. the two have been inseparable since they both arrived at camp. so she was pleasantly surprised when luke had just shoved her off whenever she asked if he was okay.

the girl busied herself this evening by collecting hay bales to bring to the stables. this was usually grover's job, but he was with percy and annabeth on a quest chiron gave them earlier that week.

she wasn't expecting any visitors, so to say she was taken aback by luke showing up would be an understatement.

"what are you doing here?" she asks, not bothering to look up from her wheelbarrow of hay. she continued filling it while luke walked closer to her.

"i wanted to check on you. you seemed to he distancing yourself today."

y/n scoffs, "i haven't been the distant one."

luke rolls his eyes, "what are you talking about?"

y/n doesn't respond.

"you think i'm the one being distant?" luke asks.

y/n shrugs before responding with sarcasm laced in between her words, "i figured since you haven't talked to me all week, and every time i asked if you were okay you'd turn around and avoid answering me. that's just a guess."

"i'm not trying to avoid you," luke responds, yet y/n scoffs again, not believing a word the boy says.

"you don't believe me?"

y/n finally looks at luke, "what was i supposed to think? that we were fine? while you were busying ignoring me and making me feel like a shitty friend?"

it's luke's turn to stay silent, which only makes y/n groan and go back to her task at hand. luke follows her. he grabs her shoulder to try and stop her. y/n only shrugs him off.

luke takes in a deep breath, "do you want to know why i've been so standoffish with you?"

"only if you don't avoid me this time, sure, have at it," y/n doesn't stop walking, and she can only assume luke's following her as his voice doesn't falter.

"i started realizing i have feelings for you," he pauses and y/n takes the silence to turn around. she drops the wheelbarrow and faces luke.

"i'm not used to it okay? so i- i figured if maybe i ignored you the feelings would go away. gods it's stupid, believe me i know. it hurt to see you get so upset."

"so why didn't you just talk to me about it in the first place?" y/n questions.

luke shrugs, "i was worried it'd ruin our friendship."

"oh so ignoring me wouldn't ruin it either? okay," y/n turns back around and starts pushing the wheelbarrow in the direction of the stables again.

luke runs his hands over his face in annoyance, "y/n can you please just listen to me? this is hard okay? i'm not used to liking anyone, especially not you."

y/n stops again, but doesn't look back towards luke.

"especially not you," luke repeats.

"would this be a bad time to say i've liked you since i first got to camp?" y/n still hasn't turned around, and her voice is quiet as she plays with her fingers as a distraction.

luke chuckles, and y/n can picture a blush is appearing on his cheeks.

"i wouldn't say it's the best time, but definitely not bad timing," luke jokes.

y/n finally turns around, with her arms crossed. luke has his hands in his jean pockets. the pair awkwardly stand four feet away from each other. the silence between them is defeaning, and they both know it.

four feet turn into three.

three feet turn into two.

two feet turn into one.

luke brings his hands up to hold both of y/n's cheeks.

"what are you doing?"

"kissing you."

before y/n can get a proper response out, luke pushes his lips against hers. it catches the girl by surprise. she kisses back, because she isn't an idiot, and her hands hold onto luke's wrist. luke pulls away first, and can't help but laugh at y/n's frazzled state.

"you alright?"

"i hate you."

but luke knew she didn't mean it.

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weird-is-life · 2 months

Note

hii! So I've never made a request before- but I was wondering if you could write a sunshine!reader × spencer where reader is a but dimmer(less sunshiney? Idk lol) than usual? Something sort of fluffy and comfort like if that makes sense :) I love your work sm and i saw your requests were open so- <33

Hii lovely ty for the request🥰! And thank you for loving my work, ily😭 hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, reader is a bit upset, mentions of food/drink, use of pet names(0.9k)

You come to work without your usual cheery aura. You greet everybody with a smile, but Spencer sees right through it. He can tell the difference between your real smile, and between this fake smile. I mean, he would be kind of a bad boyfriend if he couldn't differ them.

Spencer comes up to your desk, his hand immediately finds yours, "hi, sweetheart."

You look up at him, fake smile already plastered on your pretty face, "hi, Spence."

"Are you okay?" Spencer whispers, trying not to draw any attention to you.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I just didn't sleep well," you respond way too quickly so Spencer knows you're lying right away.

"Really?" Spencer asks softly, trying to get the real answer.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Really." You form another fake smile on your face. But Spencer doesn't push you, he knows you'll tell him in your own time if you want to.

Spencer squeezes your shoulder lovingly, and lets you get back to work. And even though he isn't going to try, and force you to tell him what's wrong, he's not letting it go.

Spencer settles on the plan to try to cheer you up, even if just a little.

Spencer goes to grab a coffee to a little café near the Bau so he grabs a drink and some sweet pastries for you as well. He even buys you a flower, just one simple flower not a bouquet, but it's your favourite so he hopes that you'll like it.

As soon as Spencer gets back to the office he makes a beeline for you. You don't notice him coming, too focused on the papers, until the beautiful flower is right in front of your face.

"Oh," you yelp in surprise, small but genuine smile right away on your lips, "what's this?"

"This," he also puts the drink and the pastries on your table," is for you."

"For me? Why?" you ask a little confused, but Spencer already can see that your mood has been lifted even if just a bit.

"Just because," Spencer beams at you.

You raise your brows at him, "just because?" you giggle. Your giggle makes Spencer almost melt away.

"Yeah, " Spencer shrugs his shoulders. He would have bought you thousands of flowers if it meant that you would smile at him like this again. He overwhelmingly wants to kiss you, but he just can't kiss you in the middle of the office.

He decides that a little peck on your cheek wouldn't hurt. He quickly looks around, and then does it.

You cheeks go rosy, "thank you, handsome. This is really nice."

"Of course," Spencer smiles at you one more time before he leaves you be. He sits at his desk, and takes a sip of his coffee.

It's missing the very much needed sugar, even if he did ask for more sugar at the café It's still not enough. He goes straight to the small office kitchen.

You notice Spencer going there, and follow him. You can't believe how sweet Spence is. I mean, you know he's literally the sweetest person on the earth, but still it takes you by a surprise every time. It makes you love him even more everytime, too.

You swear, you were very close to crying when he brought you the flower. You haven't been feeling very well since the morning. It's just one of those days when you wake up with an upset mood, and there's no actual reason behind it. It's just this way sometimes.

You know Spencer noticed this bad mood. And of course, he's trying everything he can to make you feel better without being forceful. So you want to thank him again.

"Hi, sweetheart, need more sugar too?" Spencer notices you straight away.

"No, I just wanted to say thank you again, Spence," you say sheepishly.

"No need to say thanks again. I'm glad you like my little surprise," Spencer can't help it when you're around him, his hand immediately lands on your hip.

You try to give him a smile, but you just anxiously look at him, "I just... Y-you were right. I-I don't feel good today."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Spencer softly asks in hushed voice, his hand starts to do circles on your exposed skin where your sweater has risen.

"Can we talk about it later?" You don't feel like talking about it right now. Especially not at work. You'd rather do it later with Spencer's arms around you.

"Definitely, lovely. You can come to my apartment if you want to. We don't even have to talk, we could just put on a movie or something. Does that sound okay?" Spencer proposes unsurely, he doesn't want to make you even more sad. He wouldn't survive it for sure. He's so used to your happy smiles and cheerful mood that it's weird seeing you so sullen. He doesn't like seeing you like this at all, it breaks his heart a little.

"Sounds perfect." You look at him like you want to ask him also something else, and Spencer doesn't even need to guess to know what to do. He's seen those puppy eyes on your numerous times.

Spencer quickly wraps his arms around you, instantly whispering sweet things in your ear, "I love you, y'know that?"

"I know, love you, too," you say into his shirt, already feeling a small amount of tension leave your body.

You stay like that until you are positive that you are blushing like crazy from his compliments, and until someone else comes into the kitchen for a coffee (you don't want to be another lecture about inappropriate behaviour at work, you leave that to other people).

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid

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skxllz · 3 months

Note

Hi! IDK IF YOUR TAKING REQUESTS BUT IM GONNA SEND ONE ANYWAY AND YOU DONT HAVE TO DO IT IF YOU ARENT TAKING REQUESTS

Can you do Lucifer, Alastor and whoever else you wanna add with a reader who just swallows/eats anything/weird things?

A piece of tissue? Sure! Plastic? Yippee! A pebble? Why not! Keys? Yummy! A rubber duck? Quack quack! A piece of Alastors cane? Don’t kill me!!

I'm not currently taking requests but I'll do this for you hon <3 I apologize if it doesn't live up to your expectations!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 & 𝐯𝐨𝐱 𝐟𝐭...

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

🐤 - 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚛

➳ when you two first started dating - scratch that, first started talking, he picked up on the fact that you had random quirks. bored? you'd make random noises. sometimes, you'd lay on the floor just to lay there. for no reason, you'd hang upside down on the couches in the foyer. —he once questioned you and you said, I quote, “ I want to feel the blood rush to my head, it's fun. ”— to say the least, you puzzled him, but he brushed it off because who wasn't an oddball in hell?

➳ now, when you actually started dating and you got more comfortable is when he noticed some of his rubber ducks missing - and not just the ducks, but rather some of the things he used on them as well. glue, for example.

➳ “ hey, um, sweetie? ” he approached you one day, quite confused from where his things were suddenly disappearing to. you hummed in reply, looking up from your phone. lucifer blinked at you slowly, trying to come up with a way to word his sentence without seeming like he was accusing you of anything. “ have you seen my glue? the kind I use for- ” — “ no. ” you had answered too quickly for his liking.

➳ as the days carried on, more of his shit would vanish. it got to the point where it'd frustrate him. it wasn't until one day, where his latest creation knocked off of his desk and rolled under it, did he find one of the ducks he had been looking for. except... it had a bite mark taken out of it...

➳ lucifer was dubbed shocked. his eyes widened, lips pulled down in a duck-lipped press. what in the seven rings of hell? he's never seen anything like this, and he doesn't own a hell hound, so who-

➳ and then his mind drifted to you.

➳ he recalled your weird behaviour; the way you were sweating nervously and avoiding eye contact. he should've known you had something to do with it.

➳ but to eat his rubber ducks? he's going to have a serious talk with you about your diet.

+++

📻 - 𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛

➳ this radio demon didn't really show interest in you at first. you seemed innocent - too innocent, but still innocent, and that just didn't catch his attention in the slightest. if anything, you seemed bothersome.

➳ I'd like to think he first took interest in you when vaggie found a corner of the end of her spear broken off. no one dared touched it before, and you were new to the hotel - it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. but I guess, in a sense, no one else suspected you since you never bothered anything else.

➳ one night, when almost everyone was asleep, you snuck off to the kitchen to find something to eat. you were starving since you hadn't had dinner and couldn't really bother to just fall asleep on an empty stomach. a certain radio demon had followed you, startling you out of your wits as you turned around only to spot him there. “ funny to see you awake, dear! ”

➳ you explained to him, nervously, that you couldn't sleep. he hummed, pretending to show he was listening, before skipping right to the point of why exactly he was there. “ I couldn't help but realize that, earlier today when our dearest vaggie was rather upset, you hadn't moved an inch from your spot on the sofa. in fact, you seemed almost... ” he paused, pretending to ponder, his smile widening. “ guilty. care to explain the reasoning for that, hm? ”

➳ at that point, you were avoiding eye contact. hands twined behind your back, thumbs twiddling out of anxiousness, you searched for an excuse through your jumbled brain, attempting to think of absolutely anything just to slip away from alastor. but knowing him, he'd probably see right through the charade - he's been around way longer than you, and is a mastermind at getting into people's heads. no doubt he'd figure out you fibbed. — “ I just felt guilty that I couldn't help at all. vaggie is a close friend, I hate to see her upset. ”

➳ instead of buying the lie, like you had predicted, the bob-wearing demon leaned down and gave you a close-lipped grin; half lidded eyes flashing dangerously beneath the light that gleamed from atop the stove. “ or is it because, perhaps, you had something to do with it? ”

➳ that's when you blurted out. “ I ate it. ” and, much too afraid to gouge alastor's reaction, you turned and took off running out of the kitchen.

➳ if you would've stayed, however, you would've seen the way alastor's eyes momentarily widened. he was.. shocked, to say the least. he didn't think he had heard you right at first, but he knew for certain his ears didn't deceive him.

➳ with his narrowed eyes now staring after your figure, he straightened his posture, folding his hands behind his back and humming to himself. “ interesting creature, they are... ”

➳ you have now caught his attention. expect more interactions with the infamous deer!

+++

📺 - 𝚟𝚘𝚡

➳ picture this; you're one of velvette's models. you're dating vox, her business partner. they're both aware of how weird you can be, and yet, they both seem to favorite you - hell, even val (but let's face it, he just wants you for your body, which isn't going to happen).

➳ you're in the middle of getting your hair prepped and straightened when you had the sudden urge to just chew. it always came on randomly, but most of the time when you were bored. sitting in a chair, with sprits blasting into your face and hair utensils tugging in your hair, and hell forbid you weren't allowed to move- it was not exactly fun. so you started to eye the new collection of makeup sponges that were just set upon your personal vanity.

➳ they looked squishy, flimsy, chewable... oh so tempting. so while rachelle, your hairstylist, was busy talking her head off, too busy to notice you stretching your arm forward, you snatched one up.

➳ velvette came strutting down the midst of the aisle with a firm hand on her hip and a ripple in the center of her brow, shouting at many of the other stylists on what to do, what not to do - what looked better on her models, what looked cheap. she could not afford to have her best women looking as if they escaped the hands of a hellhound, it just wouldn't do. but that's when she turned, pointing a demanding finger at rachelle to amp up the heat on your straightener because the ends of your hair were curling up. that's also when she noticed you not only chewing on the newly bought sponge, but eating it.

➳ “ oh for fuck sake! ” the dark-skinned demon spewed, catching your attention and making you freeze. velvette reached an arm forward, only to wrap her digits around what was left of the sponge and rip it from your grasp. your chair turned on cue, showing you sheepishly smiling at the fuming female. “ I told you not to stuff your damn mouth full of random shit! especially my new makeup equipment — ” she turned away, stomping her healed foot to the ground. “ fuck! ”

➳ it wasn't long before vox had arrived before the demoness due to her calling him and shouting profanities over the phone. you were left to sit in the chair, huffing nonsense under your breath, while rachelle finished with your hair in silence.

➳ when the overlord made his presence known, rachelle excused herself — and thankfully she had finished your hair. “ y/n, dear.. ” vox smoothly spoke, for once not sounding like an overly cocky twat. it's usually only in the presence of others, but given that not many people were around, he dialed a softer tone with you.

➳ “ I didn't do anything, ” you rolled your eyes, looking away with a puffed out frown. yes, you were spoiled, but who wouldn't be, dating the owner and inventor of voxtech?

➳ vox sharply looked down at you, eyeing you with a sense of irritance —for angering velvette— but fondness —because you're his—. “ don't be like that. how many times have we talked about eating random things, hm? ”

➳ “ ... about- fifty nine? I lost count. ”

➳ “ around there. ” the tv demon moved, placing his hands on the back of the swivel chair you sat upon, while now holding eye contact with you through the mirror to your vanity. “ and what have we talked about, sweetheart? ”

➳ you were silent at first. staring him down, eyes hooded and ghosted over with annoyance. it was irritating how he was speaking to you like a child. “ well? ” vox impatiently, patiently, questioned; his claws dragging along the back of the chair, only to glide over your nape. closing your eyes out of bliss from the movement, you sighed. “ don't eat random things because they're bad for me... ”

➳ “ exactly. ” vox mischievously smiled down to you, squeezing the back of your neck gently. “ now, don't you think you owe velvette an apology? ”

➳ as you nod your head, vox releases his grip on you, letting your hair fall back down against your skin. “ good. come now, we have to get that out of the way; I have things to discuss with you. ”

➳ your discussion ended pretty well :).

#this is so bad and all ovwr the place i'm so sorry 😭#I was rushing 💀#ask skullz #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #lucifer morningstar x reader #alastor x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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lollytea · 1 year

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Please, your finale Huntlow thoughts, my liege. We poor peasants beg of you, our bowls are empty and your tables full; if we might have but a crumb of your succulent meal to fill our bellies in these cold December nights.

ASGCDHBDJNK JESUS FUCKING CHRIST OKAY

I got a few asks about this but I guess I'll answer this one cuz it's phrased the funniest. I just wasn't too pressed about giving my Thoughts about finale Huntlow because I am fully a part of the Huntlow hivemind. Like I feel the way everyone else feels. I'm ecstatic, I'm delighted, I'm overwhelmed, I'm emotional, I'm so happy for them, I got everything I could have wanted. I won. We won.

(I HAVE TOO MANY PICS. I'LL RB WITH PART 2)

First of all this scene is so special to me, you have no idea.

It isn't inherently romantic but it's still so sweet and shows how much these two care for each other. Here's Willow, who's spent the last special Atlasing and repressing and refusing to rely on anyone else. But then she had her breakdown in front of Hunter and he realized just how stressed and scared she's been this whole time. She's visibly anxious and upset here, likely worrying up a storm because she hasn't found her Dads yet. And Hunter is right here beside her. He's seen her meltdown, he's felt her pain, he's heard her cry. He knows that Willow is in a fragile state at the moment. He knows she's been holding in a lot. He knows she's scared. I love that he's not only standing by her side and helping her search, but holding her too. It could be that she vocally expressed how worried she was to him, or maybe he just saw it on her face, but he probably placed that hand on her back to comfort her, let her knows he's right here, grounding her. And Willow, who's still learning how to depend on others, is letting him.

The way Hunter lights up when he sees Harvey and Gilbert, thrilled by how happy he knows she's going to be and his soft smile when he points them out to her. And then THIS!

Like Hunter is devastated. He feels alone and out of place here. He really thinks he has nobody. But Willow being happy can still bring a smile to his face. He just loves her so much!!!

And I know I already talked about the grom photo but UGHH!!!

I got a pic in better definition. I'm pretty sure this is Hunter's first grom. So likely a few months after the events of WAD. And it's so cute to think about Hunter and Willow very awkwardly but eagerly navigating a romantic relationship. I love how grabby and flirty Willow looks here, messing with his bowtie. She clearly LOVES the floral suit, thinking he's like the hottest man alive. She needs to smooch him and NOW. Or she's just like "Oh my, what a nice collarbone you have!!" Idk the ambiguity of what exactly Willow is doing here but the vibe and general intentions being very obvious is my favourite part of this pic. You can speculate for years on this. Oh and Hunter's face, I love it so much. His dumb little blush is like an old friend. He's fucking THRILLED that he's getting so much attention from her. He's very excited about where this is going. But he's also like. So nervous he's gonna pass out. But overall he's having the time of his life. Bi rights!

Also epilogue Huntlow....guys....guys epilogue Huntlow....are you guys still listening to me at this point?

God I love this scene. Its so natural and smooth, giving the characters a chance to breathe and exist and providing a glimpse of how they go about their daily lives. It's soft and lighthearted but it establishes so much about where Willow and Hunter are currently at in their relationship. They've been dating for like....3 years at the very least. And they're clearly very happy together!!

The way Willow casually slides on to the scene, giving the impression that she's often dropped in on him while he's working. And why wouldn't she? That's her sweetheart. What if she requires emergency smooches? What then? And of course, there's Hunter beaming at the sight of her. Seems he never gets tired of his girlfriend stopping by to visit. Or maybe he's sick to death of Willow the menace showing up to distract him while he's trying to work and he's just excited about the prospect of Luz's party. Either way, it's an adorable expression.

Something else I love about epilogue Huntlow is how equally distributed the affection is between both of them. Back when FTF dropped I gushed about how sweet it was to see Hunter taking initiative with Willow and the significance of something as simple pressing his backhand against hers during the pinky hold. And God, this sequence here says it all. From what I can tell, as Hunter runs towards her, they both reached out at the same time and linked hands immediately, implying that holding hands has become the automatic gesture for them whenever they meet up. They're in love, you're honor.

I love the huge carefree grins as they skate down the hill (still holding hands). They might have grown a lot since we last saw them but they're still young adults, they still love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff. And even better, they love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff together. All the handholding and fluffy cuteness is wonderful but I also love knowing that they seem to genuinely enjoy just hanging out and spending their youth with each other. Zeno was right, they ARE besties. Who knows how much shit Hunter and Willow get up to together? Being a pair of thrill seeking athletes, it's probably a lot.

This part is just so silly and ridiculous. After they go stumbling, Willow's first instinct is to grab Hunter and hold on for dear life. Her intense scrunched up expression is just so funny. "I will protect you, my love. No big dumb hill is going to harm a hair on your pretty head. Your girl is here." And Hunter barely acknowledging it (it probably happens a lot) because his life is currently flashing before his eyes. GOD they're just such nerds.

Oh and this frame is just SO adorable. The way Willow's hold on him lingers for a moment before he walks towards the grave, Hunter's heart eyes. They're clearly still so soft and touchy with each other. And this is after three years. I know they were insufferable when they started dating as teens.

#toh spoilers #huntlow

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matan4il · 3 months

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I have a query and I'm sorry that this question is going to upset you in advance. I see a post circling on here about Holocaust survivors apparently saying that Palestinians are exactly like them during attacks on Gaza. I just scroll past it because I have poor attention span that cannot stay focused more than one sentence but I wanted to know your opinion on this post or if you have seen it. Again, deep apologies that this ask is upsetting. Thank you for still being here and sharing with us.

Hi Nonnie!

Thank you for the kind way you approached this.

I have seen a post that might be the one you're referring to... It's a screenshot of a tweet:

The original tweet shows an interview with one Holocaust survivor. The response falsely expands this to survivors, in the plural, as if this one tweet shows a whole movement of Holocaust survivors, that people simply refuse to listen to.

The original tweet comes from an account that calls itself a "media company," but has no website (something I would expect from an actual media company), and is at least 80% tweets that are anti-Israel and anti-Jewish. I'll give you an example. We all know Elon Musk has allowed antisemitism to thrive on Twitter, all kinds of it, including the white supremacist type, and others that have nothing to do with Israel. In an attempt to educate him, he was invited to a tour of Auschwitz. But apparently, according to this "media company," that was just meant to stop anti-genocide speech on his social media platform:

Of the up to 20% of tweets this "media company" posts or shares, many are anti-democratic or in support of dictatorial regimes.

This account also amplified the words of Julius Malema, leader of the South African EFF party, as he justified the Oct 7 massacre, and demanded support for the (genocidal) Hamas and its "resistance."

Malema himself has repeatedly sang, "Kill the Boer," a song which many understand as a genocidal chant against the Boers, the South Africans of Dutch descent. This guy is a controversial figure at best, doesn't seem to have an issue with an actual genocide, and this "media company" upholds his words as if he is a role model.

But if this account tweets Israel hate, then I guess the Tumblr user who passed the tweet along has no issue with how questionable of a source this is.

I recognized the face of the survivor. This is what it looks like in the cut off screenshot in the Tumblr post I saw:

So how did I recognize him? Because the number of anti-Zionist Holocaust survivors is SO small (around 5), and I have seen every single one of them repeatedly tokenized by antisemites so much, that I'm familiar with the name and face of each. The man in this vid is Hajo Meyer, who died in 2014. He couldn't possibly make any comments about Hamas' massacre on Oct 7, 2023 and the war in Gaza since, unless this "media company" has managed to somehow contact the afterlife. Here's a screenshot from Google, showing a recent re-upload of this vid to IG:

And here's a very brief bio, mentioning his date of death:

I'm guessing that "media company" didn't name him, or specify the date out of the vid, because it didn't want people to know the guy was dead, and the views he expressed were pre-Hamas' massacre.

Hajo Meyer was, without a doubt, an anti-Zionist. But would he still be using this rhetoric after Oct 7, after the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, after better understanding the kind of threat that Israel and Jews worldwide (since Hamas has tried to target Jews in European countries as well, including in the Netherlands, where Meyer lived) are facing from this genocidal terrorist organization ruling Gaza? IDK. I'd like to think he would be better than to continue distorting the Holocaust through this false comparison, but I can't say for sure, and I'm not about to claim that I do, putting words in his mouth just to exploit a dead Holocaust survivor. The fact that the anti-Israel crowd would continue to tokenize (meaning, exploit) a dead survivor like that, as if anyone could know for sure that Meyer would continue to toe the same line, just shows there really is no moral low they can't stoop to.

And here I wanna emphasize how wrong this antisemitic practice is, tokenizing Jews. Because no marginalized group is immune to the hatred spread against it, there will ALWAYS be some of its members, who will internalize and embrace poison aimed at it. There were gay Nazis (the notorious Ernest Roehm was the highest ranking one) and we also have contemporary gay neo-Nazis. So, should we use them in order to pretend that Nazi ideology is not homophobic? That it didn't harm hundreds of thousands of gay people? No, we know that the overwhelming majority of gay people suffered due to it, and would insist that Nazism IS homophobic. So, using those few exceptions to ignore (and embolden) the homophbia of this ideology, ends up being homophobic in itself. Embracing the unrepresentative few over the representative, mainstream majority of a marginalized group in "exonerating" what the group says is hateful and harmful towards it, ends up being hateful and harmful in itself.

And that's what people who only listen to the few anti-Zionist Holocaust survivors are doing. They're basically saying, "Listen to Holocaust survivors!" but they mean only the few who say what the anti-Israel movement does. All the other survivors they ignore, dismiss, silence or even erase.

They're ignoring the voices of the overwhelming majority of Holocaust survivors who WERE (and are) Zionist. Who do not agree with this distorted narrative. Yad Vashem estimates that two thirds of Holocaust survivors came to Israel at the end of WWII, and many more supported Israel even when they chose to settle elsewhere. Just recently, we had a group of 870 American survivors (along with their descendants, altogether 2,500 Jews) thank Biden for standing with Israel after the Hamas massacre. These anti-Israel haters are also erasing the survivors who were themselves targeted on Oct 7, whether threatened, kidnapped, injured or murdered (I've talked about several in my posts on this blog). This anti-Israel mob is exploiting Hajo Meyer even in ignoring that if he had been alive and present in Israel, even just to visit a friend or family member, he would have been targeted, too. These haters are ignoring survivors who said that what Hamas has done is similar to what the Nazis did (I've talked about several of them in my posts on this blog, too. All can be found in my Israel tag).

It is unconscionable, to treat most Holocaust survivors like they don't count, and only see a (literal) handful of anti-Zionist ones as if they do. And it certainly does NOT show the respect the anti-Israel haters imply survivors are owed, through the demand that we all defer to the opinion of the survivors, but ONLY the few anti-Zionist ones.

All that said, off the top of my head, here's a small number of HUGE differences between the Holocaust, and the Israeli-Arab conflict, and anyone ignoring them IS guilty of distorting the Holocaust.

-> The Holocaust did NOT start due to Jews repeatedly murdering Germans on German soil, in an attempt to keep Germans down and prevent them from establishing self rule in the German ancestral land. The Holocaust was completely unprovoked, unjustified and one-sided. Every oppressive measure taken by the Nazis against the Jews, was motivated by antisemitism, and was NOT a reaction to Jewish anti-German terrorism, that the Nazis had to protect their German citizens from. Speaking of unprovoked, unjustified and for a very long time one-sided, that describes the Arab anti-Jewish violence that preceded the establishment of the State of Israel by almost 100 years. But Jewish self-defense in this conflict, which only started about 50 years after said violence began, was provoked, was justified, was a response to what was done to the Jews first.

-> The Holocaust did NOT consist of Jews on German soil collaborating militarily with several Jewish countries surrounding Germany, with the goal of these combined Jewish armies invading and wiping it off the map, in order to prevent German self rule. Guess what the Arabs did to the Jews...

-> The Holocaust did NOT entail repeated German efforts to find a solution for how Jews and Germans could live together on the same land. In pre-state Israel, Jews did try repeatedly to reach an understanding that would allow Jews and Arabs to peacefully share (and co-exist in) the Jewish ancestral land.

-> When Jews finally started rebelling against the Nazis, they did NOT try to get as many Jewish civilians as possible killed. On the contrary, the outbreak of the most famous Jewish revolt, the one in the Warsaw Ghetto, was postponed until the Nazis entered, and the Jewish fighters believed this to be the final 'liquidation' of the ghetto (meaning, the deportation and extermination of the roughly 60,000 Jews still alive there). Only then did they fight back, because (in their own words), they did not want their decision to rebel to cost another Jew "even one hour of life." Compare that to how Hamas has been using Palestinian civilians as human shields. Or even to the Arab leadership back in 1948, which did not hesitate in risking or displacing the entire Arab population in the Land of Israel, in favor of fighting what they called "an extermination war" against the Jews.

-> The Holocaust did NOT see a single day where Germans worked en masse to try and alleviate the suffering of Jews, whether by providing them with humanitarian aid, or by moving them to areas where they would be safe from death. That's in direct contrast to Israel's efforts to make Palestinians' lives better, whether through humanitarian aid, work permits in Israel that guarantee a higher salary and better social rights, medical treatments, warnings when a terrorist target is about to be struck, etc.

-> The Holocaust was NOT supposed to end with even one Jew alive at the end of it. The Germans were going for total extermination of the Jewish people. All Jews who had German citizens were stripped of it in 1935, even before the most murderous parts of this genocide commenced. In contrast, Israel did NOT seek to kill all Arabs, there were many calls for Arabs not to flee Israel and the war which the Arab leadership had started, at the end of the war Israel gave citizenship to 150,000 Arabs who did not leave and did not take arms against Jews, and there was even an offer for tens of thousands of Arabs to return (Weitzmann presented it to the UN), if they do so peacefully. Just a few thousands accepted that offer, but those who did, got citizenship and land.

-> The Nazis were so eager to kill every Jew, that they came to the conclusion they HAD to industrialize their genocide of the Jewish people. That's why they built extermination camps with gas chambers at their core. Auschwitz alone could, on certain days, kill about 20,000 people. No Jew was meant to leave those camps alive. The crematoria were mass murder factories. ANY crime that you want to compare to the Holocaust specifically, you have to show that it includes this industrialization element. Currently, NO GENOCIDE, no matter how horrific, has. And God help us all, I hope it stays that way (this is one of the reasons why the Holocaust mustn't be distorted or minimized. We can't prevent something from happening, if we don't understand what HAS happened, and that we're trying to stop from being repeated). There is not a SINGLE thing in the history of the Israeli-Arab conflict that comes CLOSE to being an industrialized form of massacre. Even the brutality of Hamas on Oct 7, the single bloodiest day in the history of this conflict for either side, doesn't come close.

-> While there are still Jews around, meaning the Holocaust as conceptualized by the Nazis failed, it was so deadly, that it DID lead to the murder of around 70-80% of the Jews living under the Nazi occupation over a short number of years. Even more than 80 years after the end of the Holocaust, Jews have not recovered demographically. Meanwhile, the Palestinian population has increased by about 10 times since Israel's Independence War. But let's say people wanna claim that just this current war is comparable to the Holocaust. There are presently around 7 million Arabs in the territories of the Jewish ancestral land, of which about 2 million are Israeli citizens. I'm gonna go with the anti-Israel narrative for a second, which claims ALL of them are occupied and oppressed by Israel (even though they're not). In order for the ruin of Palestinians to be indeed on the same level, that would mean 70-80% of them would have to be murdered by Israel during the war. Let's go with the lower percent, so it's easier for the anti-Israel crowd to reach the number of deaths that would support their claim. To have killed 70% of 7 million, that would mean Israel would have to kill 4.9 million Arabs in this so-called "genocide." Even if we exclude Israeli Arabs, and only focus on the 5 million Palestinians living in areas where the Israeli army currently operates (imagine the German Nazis allowing Jews safety inside Germany, and only killing them outside it *eyeroll*), that would mean at least 3.5 million Palestinians killed. But after almost 5 months of this war, the number of Palestinian fatalities, as claimed by Hamas, is around 30,000 people (I'm putting aside the fact that at least 12,000 are Hamas terrorists). The gap between what is happening, and what people who make this false comparison are implying is happening, is incomprehensible.

Sorry for the length, but I hope this is helpful!

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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sillylittlestoryblog · 5 months

Text

Keeping me warm

Part 1

Trafalgar Law x Reader

Warning: None I guess. Maybe awkward writing because I wrote this at 3 am while I couldn’t sleep ( it was storming ) and english isn’t my first language. Plus I haven’t written anything in ages so pls don’t judge to much.

Summery: basically just fluffy and angsty thoughts while freezing. Idk lol (I need sleep)

If you however do enjoy this, positive words are great for anyone’s mental health. Have fun.

The howling of the wind was unbearable. The crew members sat close together in the dark cave. It had been two days since the raging ice storm. Of course, no one had planned to stay in this place for so long. But just the thought of going outside into the cold made even the bravest pirates' legs shiver.

After even the stubborn captain of the Straw Hat Pirates had admitted that it no longer made any sense, everyone realized that they would have to sit out this storm.

The cave came in handy. Together with the Heart Pirates, the Straw Hats had anchored on this winter island.

The Sunny had been through a lot and Franky had actually planned to get some material for repairs in the small fishing village. Since only a few days had passed since the last major battle and the Surgeon of death was still busy patching up crew members, his crew was more than happy to take a break. A few days off couldn't hurt anyone.

You remember how Nami had been upset, crying that she would rather have stopped off at a nice summer island or at a luxurious spa. A vacation wasn't often granted to the Straw Hats. You had comforted her and said that a bit of snow could certainly be fun.

And oh how wrong you were.

You regret your words of encouragement as you sat shivering between your friends. An icicle hung from Usopp's nose as he desperately tried to warm himself by the small campfire.

"I'm hungry," Luffy's voice penetrated the silence. He said what everyone was thinking. Sanji was still trying to conjure up something edible from the few remnants that had survived the avalanche. But even the usually so positive cook didn't really know how to help himself.

Bepo and Chopper had suddenly become the most popular crew members. Everyone was secretly hoping to snuggle up in their warm furs and perhaps sleep despite the loud storm.

The only one who seemed to be able to sleep without the warmth of the two was Zoro. Once again, you envied him for having the talent to sleep in any situation.

Your eyes glanced over to the other pirate crew. Captain Law was sitting on a rock, looking into the void. He also seemed to be cold, but tried to hide it. Under no circumstances could he show any weakness. That would only make the situation worse and ruin the group‘s mentality. He scowled at the other captain, who kept shouting for food and jumping up and down. How could he still have that much energy ?

Law just rolled his eyes whenever he thought of the strawhat.

His mind wandered again and he looked in the other direction as unobtrusively as possible. From his seat, he had a good view of everyone. So he could keep a good eye on each member of his crew. At least that's what he told himself.

He also wanted to keep an eye on you.

Trembling, you sat between Nami and Robin. The older one had taken off her dark cloak and wrapped it around the three of you like a blanket. It was a nice gesture, but it didn't seem to do much good. But at least you weren't as stubborn as some others. The cook had refused to lean against one of the other men, preferring to rather run off to the other corner of the cave on his own. He must have been freezing, Law saw him looking enviously at the floor where Zoro had been snoring quietly for hours.

Yesterday, the motivation had been a bit higher. Everyone was sure that the storm wouldn't last that long and that the sky would soon be clear again. But this was the Grandline after all. No one could really predict the weather conditions.

Brook had wrote a little song, strawhat-ya had bounced happily back and forth and the cooks of both crews had roasted fish over the campfire.

You had smiled from time to time.

A warm feeling shot through Laws body.

Your eyes had sparkled in the light of the fire and he had to turn his gaze to you again and again. You were so beautiful.

Before you became part of the friendly crew, it had always bothered Law to spend too much time with the Straw Hats. They were loud, inconsiderate and constantly meddled in other people's problems. Above all, the parties that the rubber man regularly announced were law's worst nightmare. Loud singing, food and booze everywhere and always the strangest of people. He would much rather be in his study or in a quiet library, hoping desperately to escape the chaos.

But this feeling changed abruptly after you became part of the crew. He spotted you straight away. He quickly noticed a new face. And what a face it was. He had wanted to talk to you all evening. But someone was always glued to you, if it wasn't Nami, the captain or Chopper, it was the annoying cook who jumped around you with hearts in his eyes. Asking you for company, mixing you special drinks or turning up with a hot soufflé in one and a bouquet of flowers in the other hand.

Law had been uncomfortable, but he hadn't dared to speak to you. Nico Robin had told him over dinner how much you liked to read and that had only increased his interest.

Yet he hadn't made any effort to talk to you. You probably hadn't even noticed him.

You had noticed Trafalgar Law immediately.

Of course you knew his Wanted poster, as well as the many stories about the captain of the Heart Pirates. Luffy was always talking enthusiastically about Tra Guy and the other Nakama usually had the best stories to tell. Franky once told you how intelligent Law was, when you painted one of the rooms on the Sunny together. Usopp told you how badass his powers were. And Chopper had raved to you about his medical talent.

Since then, you had often asked the other girls about him. With completely neutral intentions, of course.

That's why Nami and Robin weren't at all surprised by the way you looked at him when you first met. Nami had rolled her eyes and laughed: "You look at him like you're Luffy and he's a piece of meat." You had sent her a dirty look, but your body had already betrayed you. Your cheeks were warm and your heart began to beat a little faster. Robin had just giggled and left you two alone.

When you thought back to that evening, your face flushed again. You sincerely hoped that you hadn't made a fool of yourself.

In the cold cave, these thoughts were the only thing that seemed to keep you warm. Again and again your thoughts seemed to wander to him. A glance in his direction couldn't hurt, could it?

Cautiously and not at all obviously, you let your eyes wander.

Your eyes wandered over the body in the dark coat. How you wish you could put it on your own body now.

His dark hair peeks out from under the white cap he always wore. You had to remind yourself of Nami's words two days ago. Maybe she was right. On a warm island, you would certainly have had the chance to see Law without his hat. How much you would have liked to see all of his hair. And you also felt that his eyes were always shrouded in shadow.

Eyes that you wished you knew the color of.

Eyes that always seemed to avoid yours.

Eyes that could never lose focus while in a fight.

Eyes that just swept over your body.

Eyes that met yours all at once.

Your head quickly turned to the side. Was he looking at you?! Just pretend you were doing something else. Had Robin been talking to you? You desperately tried to get your friend's attention. You feel like you've been caught. The familiar feeling of warmth returns even stronger than before. Robin had definitely been the wrong choice for your excuse. She couldn’t have been talking to you, of course, if you hadn't wasted your time ogling Law, you would have noticed how Robin's dark hair had landed on your shoulder. She'd been sleeping quietly next to you for a few minutes.

Damn. Now you were sure. He had caught you. Cautiously, your gaze drifted back.

Law's gaze was also averted but his cheeks were blushed. And his gorgeous eyes had disappeared behind his cap again.

Law's chest was suddenly incredibly warm. Why hadn't he been paying more attention? Of course you'd catch him staring at you. Hopefully you didn't think anything bad of him. Nothing would be worse than that.

You were probably used to being stared at. The cook could hardly take his eyes off you three Strawhat ladies. But had Law just looked at you the same way? As he pulled his coat closer around him, he hoped fervently that his eyes didn't turn into hearts every time he looked in your direction.

With the most serious expression he could fake in this moment, he tried again.

But he hadn't expected your eyes to still be on him. Law was turning as red as a tomato. The warm feeling was everywhere again. And now he really couldn't be sure if his gray eyes hadn't turned into big hearts.

Because you were looking at him. And he looked back.

A small smile flitted across your face.

And Law awkwardly smiled back.

The cold and the storm were long forgotten. While the others were freezing and dreaming of warm summer light or cozy blankets,

two pirates were infinitely warm.

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #nami #monkey d. luffy

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redroomwidows · 9 months

Text

notes: Sirius x James my love. Sirius and James sweaty and shirtless my love. Sirius and the reader are just as in love with James as he is with them in this. not a lot of quidditch content I'm sorry.

warnings: I can't write flirting, second person, I guess like sexual flirting?? I feel like i've written this wrong idk. reader is referred to as ‘gorgeous’

Poly! Prongsfoot × gn!reader

——-&——-

Dating Sirius Black came with many perks, he was all over you, all the time, and had no problems with PDA, or ‘defending your honour’. A perk you didn’t expect though, was bonding over your crush on James Potter.

James was tall, buff and had dark brown curls you wanted to run your hands through. He was also kind and passionate -

“You two are staring again,” Remus mutters from his spot next to you and Sirius. James had appeared after a nap, his hair a mess and his lips pouted and your eyes had not left him.

When you’d first started dating Sirius, Peter had joked how you’d also be dating James, oh how you both wished that was true. Sirius had been best friends with Jamed since first year, and he’d probably been in love since fourth. You could love two people at the same time, you both knew this.

What you didn’t know however, was that James felt the same way. Well, until he became terrible at hiding it.

You’d first noticed after a Summer Quiditch match, when the entire team had celebrated their victory by lying on the floor and begging McGonagall to pour water on them - she’d refused. Thus after the match, as little clothes as possible were on and Sirius had insisted you stay in his dorm while he showered. When he exited, a towel draped over his waist, two pairs of eyes were on him.

“Both of you see something you like?” he’d joked and while you merely laughed, James blushed and looked down “Prongs?”

“Huh?” he looks up, and then down again

“Are you checking my boyfriend out?”

“What! No-”

“You weren’t? I’m offended, I thought I looked hot,”

“No I mean, you do!” an eyebrow is raised and James scrunches up his face “I’m going to shower!” when he leaves the room, you smirk at Sirius.

Around a month later, after lots of flirting (mainly on Sirius’ end), the Gryffinfdors were throwing a party, And a lot of firewhiskey was involved. James ended up on the sofa with you, his head in your lap, looking at your boyfriend dancing .

James sighs, almost lovesick “You alright there Jamie?”

“He’s pretty,” you smirk and run your hands through his hair

“Yeah, he is,”

“You know he’s finally dating someone?” Oh, he’d got to that stage where he didnt know who you were “And they’re great, they’re really great, as great as Padfoot, and I love him, so they must be really great,” you stay very still, letting him continue “But I still feel jealous y’know, and I don’t actually know who of,”

“Maybe its both of them?” You suggest softly and he nods

“Both,”

Once you’d told a sober Sirius, that had opened up a rabbit hole, a huge one, one which included dates, that weren't really dates, and flirting that definitely was flirting. Sirius liked to make James - and you - blush, and laugh, and very flustered.

As the weather gets colder, you find yourselves in the common room more often, and on Wednesday, you enter and find James and Sirius cuddling on the sofa, this wasn’t new, it was something they’d always done, but today you needed a hug, and it made you slightly upset to see them so content.

“Hey Gorgeous,” Sirius greats and you smile, James waves “You alright?” you shake your head

“Need a hug,” you mumble, James goes to get up but you stop him “Want a James hug,” and so you sit next to him, and climb into his arms, sighing comfortably, Sirius’ hand’s find your hair, and James arms are around your waist. You were tired, tired of pretending that you didn’t like James, that you didn’t know he liked you, that he and Sirius haden’t loved eachother for years.

“James,” You start quietly “Do you remember getting incredibly drunk and forgettting who I was?”

“Uh- No?” you sigh and turn around, your elbows either side of him, you look up at Sirius and wink.

“I do,” and then you kiss him.

#prongsfoot x reader #prongsfoot x you #prongsfoot x y/n #hp x reader #james potter x reader #the marauders x reader #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x you #poly marauders x reader #sirius black x you

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mxqdii · 9 months

Note

angst to fluff matt sturniolo but he's stubborn about talking it out with reader so it lasts long to the point where reader gets frustrated yk? maybe this is too specific 😭 also if u do this, do it however!!

did you mean it? - m.s

pairings: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt accidentally says "i love you" and just pretends it never happened, leaving the reader sad and conflicted.

warning(s): angst, confession, crying? (idk help 😭)

"this is why i fell in love with you" he says and i freeze

he loves me?

i look at him, blank expression on my face

(which is definitely not how my mind is reacting)

his face turns bright red

"you-" i start but get interrupted

"i didn't mean it like that" he says and i feel my heart drop

"oh, okay.." i say, almost in a whisper

my heart just shattered into a million pieces. matt, my boyfriend, the love of my life, doesn’t mean it like that.

we continue making dinner, the awkward silence filling the room.

suddenly nick and chris come downstairs, and for some reason i'm actually thankful for it.

they start talking to us but my mind is elsewhere, maybe it's my fault. i mean, i didn't say it back fast enough which could've caused matt to second guess, or he just didn't mean it, or-

"y/n you there?" nick says and i snap out of my thoughts

"yeah! yeah im here.." i say with a dry tone and a short smile

i'm too upset to be cheerful right now.

we finish making dinner and finish eating, which is when me and matt decide to watch a movie.

throughout the film, i noticed how matt started acting like nothing happend

i hate it.

i feel like we should at least talk about it, or like.. mention it again?

maybe it wasn't that big of a deal

maybe i should let it go

or maybe, matt is being stubborn.

"matt" i say, abruptly

"yes love?" he says and i feel shivers go down my spine

do i really wanna ruin this? now?

i just am so in my head i cannot leave things like that.

"i- uh.." my words get caught in my throat and i feel like i can't get out what i wanna say

maybe it's for the better.

"i'm gonna go, home- yeah." i say

"oh, okay." he answered

i quickly grab my keys and jacket, saying bye to nick and chris, then giving matt a quick hug and immediately leaving.

fuck fuck fuck, what do i even do.

i get home and feel a sense of lonliness, emptiness fill me.

i can't help but burst into tears

i messed up

i don't know why my mind immediately went to it being my fault, i guess that's just my instinct, matt was actually the one who noticed i always assumed things were my fault, so he would always reassure me thing's weren't.

after that whole situation earlier though, things are different this time.

the thought of matt makes me cry harder.

minutes pass, then hours, and suddenly its been a day.

it's currently 10pm, the last time i heard from matt was yesterday, when i left his house actually..

i've been crying all day just watching TV

i am a mess.

suddenly i get a knock on the door

i wipe my tears, running to the bathroom to make sure my nose and eyes arent red anymore (which thankfully arent)

i look fine, i look like i've been fine.

perfect.

i run back to the door, quickly opening it, knowing i've kept whoever waiting long enough

matt.

i go speechless, like, i literally don't have the words, and even if i did, i'm not sure what i'd say.

"you're a mess" he says, breaking the silence

"i'm not a mess" i exclaim and he looks down with a laugh

"i can tell you've been crying" he adds on, confirming his 'i'm a mess' comment.

fuck, this boy knows me too well.

i open the door wider, gesturing him to come in.

"so.. why are you here.." i ask and he turns around to face me

"because i'm stubborn and you're frustrated." he replies, causing me to look at him in confusion

"i've never lied to you, until last night. i do love you y/n, i should've said it but i just- i couldn't. and then i got scared and tried to ignore it, causing me to be distant. but every second we didn't talk i was thinking about it- i was thinking about you."

all this information is too much for my slow brain to process

"so you- you meant it? you love me?" i repeat and he steps closer to me

"yes y/n, i love you" he states and i smile

he puts his hands on my waist and kisses me

we pull away, still inches away from eachother

"i love you too matt."

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@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm