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mammomlette · 21 days

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OBEY ME YOUNGER BROTHERS AS SOULMATE TROPES!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3(WIP rn)]

Includes: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, GN!Reader/MC

Warnings: Spoilers for lesson 16 in Belphies (not explicitly said but obvious foreshadowing for a twist), implied manipulation (Belphies) (not sure if that needs a warning but better safe than sorry)

Notes: I’m still quite new to fanfics and Tumblr, and honestly just writing in my free time in general so constructive criticism is defo encouraged!! Also I won’t lie to you, Satan did seem a tad ooc erm…

SATAN: writing/drawings on hands appear on eachother

* As soon as you turned 18, you noticed small phrases and notes appearing on your right hand

* It started off with small things like “page 562” or “British shorthair.” Just things to keep as a reminder or to be able to search it up later

* However, as time went by, the notes became a bit more… concerning

* Concerning book quotes from old literature, sometimes in other languages, and nefarious plans to prank someone called ‘Lucifer’

* Your soulmate plans to prank the devil himself. Haha. What a great idea.

* You brushed it off for a while, appreciating the occasional cat fact or chapter reminder and just ignoring the angry words about Lucifer.

* Eventually, you began to build up the courage to respond. Small things relating to things your soulmate wrote, like cat doodles (good or bad as your art skill may be) or going over the writing of the reminder when you notice it started to fade

* Not knowing if it was your place to write down your own notes or just not quite having that amount of bravery, you still did those little things to let your soulmate know that hey, you’re there and you’re always reading what they have to say.

* Satan thought he was hallucinating.

* Thousands of years spent just jotting things down to remind himself of things at a later date, frequently on his hand, and suddenly things started to change?

* He had wrote “British shorthair” on his palm in hopes of being able to look it up later, and a few minutes later he looks down to his palm to search it up and sees a… cat?? It’s really not clear. It’s round, with two points on the top of its head… yeah thats a cat.

* He’s become so obsessed he’s hallucinating badly drawn cats, which is probably a cause for concern, so naturally he confides in his brothers about this and is comforted that no he’s not hallucinating, however cats are just randomly appearing on his hand.

* They continue to appear, circles with two triangles, some looking better than others and some with more odd features likes birthday hats or weird outfits

* He finally decided to read up on what could be happening and was quickly met with the term ‘soulmates’

* He had heard of this a long time ago from one of his brothers while he was still young (for a demon) and brushed it off as a fairy tale. Why had his soulmate only started communicating with his just now?

* He moved on eventually and time passed, a new human being introduced to his home and his family.

* It took an embarrassingly long time to realise that his human was also his soulmate, it wasn’t until you were both just chilling in his room and you were doodling something next to some words on your arm that he noticed a cat appearing on his own arm.

* “Look! The cat thing is happening!” He shouted, a lot more emotion out into it that he would’ve liked due to the sheer shock

* You stopped what you were doing and look at his arm, the cat drawing having ceased its being drawn while you stared at the cat, face turning into shock and then seriousness. Because that is the cat that you just drew.

* “Satan.” You said, just staring into his eyes without any expression

* “Yes, MC?” He responded, worried at your monotony. His mouth then gaped open and you showed him your arm, cat half doodled next to the words “page 236, sticky notes needed”

* You both just made dead eye contact for a second before your eyes both began to flick back and forth and your lips slowly started to quiver

* Both of your sweet laughters filled the room, how ironic that such a common book trope would be what flew under Satan’s nose for so long.

ASMODEUS: soulmate telepathy

* Ever since you turned 18, you had been hearing a voice in your head.

* Not necessarily in a concerning way! In the way it happens when you and your soulmate have both turned 18 and can finally communicate.

* At first, you thought that you were hearing things. Things like “Ooo, this would be a great touch to my outfit! ♡” and “Can’t believe my bath wasn’t 3 hours long today…” flooding your mind. Since when were you SO picky about your clothes and hygiene, even when not in the process of dressing or washing? And since when were your baths 3 hours?

* Quickly though, you realised that this voice wasn’t your own. It was a melodic sounding voice that felt like honey and most definitely did not belong to you.

* You had heard from your family growing up and your friends recently that once you had become an adult you would be able to communicate with your soulmate through your thoughts, proof of the bond your souls shared, thoughts intertwining together.

* You found that whenever you were deep in thought and rambling to yourself you’d be met with a “hon, slow down” in your mind or that whenever you were trying to figure out an outfit your soulmate would chime in to offer their expert advice without hesitation

* No hesitation at all, because Asmo had waited his entire life for this.

* Thousands of years of life believing that he had no soulmate, destined to forever be a player

* So long spent reading and gushing over cute romance stories where soulmate meet and finding comfort in romcoms about that very topic, and here he was finally with his own soulmate in his mind

* The way you would thank him for his advice before his mind went quiet from your thoughts again until you later told him how well everything went and the way you would ramble internally to him without even realising you were connected to his mind made his heart flutter, even without your face your voice and soul were beautiful

* One day he had been summoned alongside his brothers to the student council room to welcome the new human exchange student. It was a hassle that could be spent doing something more productive like his skincare or extra time in the bath, but he was still just so excited he had to tell you how excited he was to meet the new human!

* “New human?” You thought, but had no response from your soulmate before you appeared inside of a council room in front of 5 attractive strange men.

* You panicked and were kind of in autopilot mode as a tall man in all red introduced you to your situation and a slightly-less-tall man in black started to introduce you to his brothers

* You still had small responses in your shock, and a certain demon recognised your voice.

* You were immediately snapped out of autopilot when you heard the voice of the second brother you were introduced to, an admitted handsome man with slightly-pink-tinted light brown hair and stunning orangeish eyes said “Oh come now. Really? You should be that you get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!” And you froze.

* You looked like a deer in headlights to lucifer who was trying to introduce you to a blonde demon, but to Asmo, you looked like the most beautiful creature to ever walk the three realms (asides from himself, naturally) and the only person worthy of him.

* Asmo saw beauty in everyone, but everyone else paled in comparison to your face in this moment and your voice every other previous time he had heard it.

* He looked at you with knowing eyes and your eyes finally softened from your shocked face, finally understanding what he meant earlier by “new human”

* It would take time for you to get used to being in a new world with a demon as your soulmate, it would take time for him to get used to loving someone more intimately than as lust, but you both had eachother and the bond that ties your minds together and that’s all you needed.

BEELZEBUB: you share (some of) your soulmate’s pain

* It was growing unbearable.

* The slight yet constant ache in your stomach, a pit that was never quite full.

* For years you mistook it for your own hunger, not sure if you should be eating more or not

* It was always there, always something that disctracted you whenever you were left alone in silence or trying to sleep at night, always waiting for you to finish a meal just to make you feel that familiar ache again.

* It was just insufferable.

* It wasn’t just the hunger, though. There would be times where your muscles would ache like you had been working out without a proper cool down or your arms felt like they had bruised from defending or blocking against something

* You inquired with your friends about this and were just told that it would be your soulmate. You shared pain with your soulmate, and your soulmate always seemed in pain

* It wasn’t a pain that came from attacks or falling, just a pit that always felt so empty it hurt but could never be filled.

* Was your soulmate starving to death? You wished there was a way to help them, to soothe the pain, but without knowing who they are there was no way to fix it.

* As of present, you had been sent into the devildom a few weeks ago and had began to slowly feel adjusted to the devildom and your roommates and you had grown fond of one in particular: Beelzebub, the avatar of gluttony.

* You sympathised with him and his constant hunger since you yourself always felt a small bit of this hunger, even if you’d learnt by now that it wasn’t yours to fix

* So naturally, you hung a round him more

* You spent time with him whenever you could just because you wanted to, accompanying him to the gym or treating him to Hell’s Kitchen or even just sitting with him when he was lonely and missing his brother who had gone to the human world

* And it felt like every time you gave him the food you were craving so much, that pit in your stomach was filled just a bit

* Always there, never going away, but it felt just that bit more bearable and ignorable for a short while

* Who knew you were such an empath?

* Of course it crossed your mind of that Beel could be your soulmate, but what are the chances? You dismissed the thought whenever it appeared, not wanting to get your hopes up

* However, your hopes were validated one night in the kitchen with Beel.

* You were preparing him a small snack, just cutting up some devildom-style bread for him when you accidentally put your finger down at the wrong time in the wrong place and cut it

* You hissed at the pain, putting down the knife to look at your finger and you thought you heard Beel grunt.

* “MC, are you okay?” He inquired, approaching you to look at your finger while slightly cradling his own for some reason

* “Uh, yeah, I just need a plaster or something, would you mind..?” “Yeah, of course.” He continued to clutch his finger while reaching for the cabinet, letting go for a second to open it and grab you a plaster

* “Are you okay? You’re holding your finger too.” You were slightly worried by his mannerisms even though you didn’t see a cut on his fingers.

* “Yeah, my finger just hurt all of a sudden. It’s fine though. Here, I’ll put the plaster on for you.”

* You fell into comfortable silence as he opened the plaster and began pressing in down, but he pressed down a bit too hard which hurt you, causing both of you to hiss.

* “Seriously Beel, are you okay?” He nodded. “Yeah, it’s just like whenever you get hurt my finger hurts too.”

* Lightbulb. You realised finally that those slight considerations were valid and the connection you felt with Beel was real. The hunger you felt wasn’t yours and the reason it was numbed when you gave him food is because it was his.

* He seemed to have realised this too, because he paused and looked at you, slowly smiling.

* “MC, I just realised something. I think that-“ you cut him off with a kiss, smiling now too.

BELPHEGOR: you have a countdown until your soulmate’s death

* Surely there was an error in the system.

* Call you crazy but you didn’t quite think that 378,691,205,018 seconds is applicable to the human life span.

* You had come to the conclusion that your soulmate was either non-existent and the universe was fucking with you or they were some kind of non human entity and obviously both of these answers were stupid but at least the former was possible.

* You’d grown accepting overtime that you didn’t have a soulmate unlike how most of your friends did and that you’d never have that sort of unconditional love

* Not having a soulmate wasn’t unheard of, just uncommon.

* And you got the short end of the stick. That’s all there was to it.

* UNTIL you got randomly abducted one day into literal hell where pretty much all beings there loved for thousands of years.

* ‘Maybe I have a chance now?’ You crossed the thought out from your mind. First of all, these were demons and most of them had made attempts on your life at some point or another, and secondly almost all of them either a) didn’t have a timer, which meant no soulmate, b) had an insanely high timer that you’d never be able to reach or c) had already found their soulmate

* You sighed to yourself and began to lose hope again, walking up the stairs to the attic

* A short while ago, you had found a human locked in the attic, who had asked you to help him. You clicked, something in that moment just felt like it had been put in place like the final puzzle piece so you trusted him without really knowing why

* But you had even more recently found out from his brother that he was bulshitting you and that he was probably the demon Belphegor, so now you just wanted to figure out what was going on

* You continued to march up the stairs and finally arrived at the attic to confront him or at least question him

* “Are you Belphegor?” You cut to the chase not wanting to bother with any more of his lies.

* He was silent for a second before grinning, devilish look that you’d expect from the decent ruler or the underworld gleaming in his eyes as he said “Aww, so you’ve already figured me out, have you? Well, you’re no fun at all.”

* You glared, and tried to decide whether declaring he was a liar or asking why he was a liar would be a better idea

* But he spoke up again before you could decide.

* “That timer on your neck, what does it say?”

* You paused, not knowing the exact number. “Um, like, there’s hundred billion seconds-ish? Why?”

* “Because I’m a demon. I’m going to live long enough to fulfil that. Look at my timer, here. It has 13,140,014 seconds. No demon would live that short.”

* “And is thirteen million a lot of time?”

* “About a human lifespan, bit under.”

* You hummed. It made sense to you looking at it at the moment, though you could’ve sworn it was a little bit under your guess, you trusted him.

* Why? He lied to you about being a human, so why do you trust him?

* Because he’s your soulmate. There’s no doubt in your mind. The click, the need to trust him, even seeing him in your dreams. It was right.

* So you believed him, and didn’t give the thirteen million seconds much question. You were going to save him, save your soulmate.

* Because thirteen million seems like a long time, and I guess it was long enough for you to save him. Just not enough to do much more.

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stevesharrlngtons · 1 year

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a family affair.

tangerine x reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: there is an interloper in tan’s family and he doesn’t like it one bit.

or: tan really hates change.

an: as i said, in my atj era and couldn’t help wanting to write a lil something for tan (as that’s all the fanfic ive been reading lately lol) enjoy!

“All is well, my love,” you murmured comfort to Tan as your eyes roamed the plastic plated pub menu in front of you.

His fingers had been playing an angry tune on your waist for fifteen minutes, the solid gold of his rings battering your skin in a way that had started to smarten. He expelled ragged exhales through his nose every few moments, and with all his fidgeting next to you, you weren’t confident about the headspace he was in.

“I know that,” Tan replied in a cold clipped tone.

“Really? Because I can hear you grinding your teeth from here. Keep that up and when they get here, you’ll open your mouth to say hello and powder will puff out.”

“I won’t be sayin’ fuckin’ hello to ‘er.”

Your brow ticked and you took your eyes off the menu to turn to him, “you will absolutely be saying hello, and you will absolutely make conversation. We talked about this.”

“I know we talked about this,” he seethed and crouched low to your ear to say, “but I told ya then and I’ll tell ya now, I don’t got a best behavior.”

His free arm extended across the table as he shook the linked bracelet he wore back down on his wrist, his biceps flexing to test the already tired seams of his navy button down. The tension pulsing through him was palpable, you could sense his wound muscles and hear their screaming aches.

“Well, you better find one,” you said with a shrug, then returned your gaze to the tri-fold pages in front of you. The loud peeling the pages made as you pulled them apart effectively silence your boyfriend’s anxious knuckle cracking while his eyes burned into your profile. No matter how edge he was, you refused to give into his griping to ditch out on the evening and head home.

This evening at the pub was a night of much contention for Tan, and one he had hemmed and hawed about all week. He pulled out all the stops to get out of tonight, but to no avail. No “forgotten plans” or “last minute jobs” or “I just want to have a night in, just the two of us, love”’s would get him out of this, and deep down, you knew he knew that, too. Because tonight was for his brother, and he would do anything for him. Even this. Sometimes, he just needed a little reminding.

“I don’t bloody understand-“ you cut him off before he could continue.

“Because Lemon was extremely accepting of me, almost more so than you in the beginning may I add,” Tan’s grumbling continued, “so we are doing the same for him. He is your brother and you love him.”

His mustache twitched with discontent and you rolled your eyes.

“If she sucks, then we can talk shit about her all the way home, OK? But until then? She’s innocent until proven otherwise, and we’re giving her a chance.”

“Not wise to quote the legal system to me, love. If ya know one thing ‘bout me, it should be that I don’t give a rat's arse about that.”

“Well it’s not wise to be snippy with me, because it seems I am the only one holding this meeting together.”

You stood after your retort, Tan’s hand that had been resting on your waist fell to his lap. His face soured further at the action.

“Now excuse me while I go to the bar to order us a round. You keep scaring off all the waiters and we need to look friendly and warm when they get here. Beer and appetizers are how we are doing that.”

“Warm,” he scoffed, “I ain’t fuckin’ warm, darlin’.”

“Well,” you leaned back toward him and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple “you are for me.”

He blew out an unconvinced breath through his nose (but didn’t disagree) that left you laughing. You turned to make your way toward the bar before Tan stopped you.

“Just sy’know, if that bartender looks at your ass like he did when we were comin’ in? I’m takin’ his eyes out with a fuckin’ melon baller.”

“Best behavior, remember?” you sing-songed and walked away before he could respond. Though, you knew that his retort was no doubt a string of expletives.

After a good natured conversation with the bartender, whose flirty banter you were glad Tan could not overhear, you armed yourself with your purchased supplies and headed back toward the booth. With four glasses and a pitcher of lager held strategically in your hands, you were so focused on not letting anything slip from your grip, that you almost didn’t notice that your table had grown by two.

“Well look who's playin’ barmaid tonight,” Lemon exclaimed as he noticed you nearing the table.

He stood from his seat immediately to come to your aid, something you thanked him for profusely. He waved you off with a smile and placed his cheek to yours in greeting. You couldn’t help but notice that he was wearing a new aftershave, one that smelled similar to his brother’s, and that his face was clean shaven.

Once you two parted and had divided up the glasses and beer, you finally had a chance to peek at the evening's guest of honor.

“You must be the girlfriend,” you said cheerily, extending your hand, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Pin straight black hair acted as a curtain to reveal a pair of thick glasses and brown eyes as Lemon’s girlfriend turned to you. Her face was expressionless, bare of any makeup and smooth of any distinguishing emotional wrinkles. The turtleneck sweater she wore, thick and wool, was a deep purple and rose to the bottom of her jaw. Her gaze flicked over your form and then landed on your awaiting right hand.

“Likewise.” her tone was flat and disinterested, her handshake just the same.

Without even looking at Tan, you knew that the tips of his ears were turning red and his nostrils were flaring at the perceived slight made against you by this new woman. Respect was everything to him, and when not given to him, or worse, you? His blood began to boil.

“Rebecca this is (Y/N), and (Y/N) this is Rebecca.” Lemon introduced.

You looked back toward him once you had released Rebecca’s hand, the grin he offered was cheek splitting in its size. Your heart squeezed at his clear happiness. Only if his brother felt the same way.

“Well, it’s so awesome to finally meet you,” your tone was sweet and Rebecca’s face was disillusioned by your friendliness.

“Yeah, so awesome,” she barely controlled the eye roll you knew she was itching to complete.

You made your way to Tan’s side of the booth, who practically manhandled you back into the seat next to him, his arm lasoing you to his side. His large palm squeezed your hip tight in silent communication. One to say “I was right about this crazy bitch, and I’m going to lose my bloody mind”

You gently placed your hand over his and extended up to place a soft kiss to his jaw, your silent reply of “I’m right here. It’s ok, we’ve got this”

Tan only wished he could believe you.

His eye had begun to twitch seven minutes after Lemon and she arrived. The tension in his shoulders had reached a peak of almost unbearable pain and he swore he was about to crack a molar or burst a leak in his tongue by how hard his jaw was clenched.

The woman who accompanied Lemon tonight (yes, he was refusing to say the harpy’s name) was quite possibly the most vile and unpleasant woman he had ever met. That was certainly saying something too, as he was a contract killer and killed vile men and women on the daily. But this woman? The one Lemon was looking at with stars in his eyes? Somehow topped them all.

Pompous, arrogant, self righteous and shrill. He'd known her all of thirty minutes and he could already tell she was a pretentious martyr. Quite frankly, he thought she was a cunt.

And the worst part? The part that was really sending his anger into orbit? That both his brother and his girlfriend didn’t seem to notice. Well, Lemon didn’t seem to notice, you just didn’t seem to care.

You were a people person, you liked to talk to strangers on the subway, to census takers at the door and doctors office receptionists on the phone; you liked to make people smile, make them happy. You could also schmooze. You could say exactly what someone wanted to hear and pin the inner workings of people psyches and youtheir sore spots in the blink of an eye. While Tan needed to be in physical control, the looming threatening force in every room, you were happy to sidle up next to him and find out what made people tick. You were polar opposites and the perfect team. You were the sweet to his salty (and yes, he knew there was a joke about his namesake in there somewhere…) and the tamer of the wildfire that swarmed in his stomach.

Even as a sunny extrovert, you had your tells for when discomfort and nervous energy would start to creep in. And Tan? He knew every fucking one.

Your smile would grow just a little too wide, a hair toward painful and not so cheerful. You would start to nod in long intervals that would weigh on the side of awkward. You’d tap your fingernails together like Dolly Parton and trace the scar on your pinky that you got when you were eight, the repetition soothing to you.

And now, while Rebecca droned on about United Kingdom policy reform or… whatever drivel she was talking about, Tan could see all your tells in full swing.

And yet? You continued to engage the spider in friendly conversation while Lemon continued to giggle like a schoolgirl at her rubbish responses. She was lucky she hadn’t said anything outwardly offensive to either his brother or his love, because truly, Tangerine had no problem with putting a bullet between her eyes and every other patron in the bar so there were no witnesses of his execution of this terrible double date.

He knew you wouldn’t be happy about that, and Lemon decidedly less so, but you’d both get over it. You would place your hands on your hips and sigh (the way you always do when he got a little too murder-y outside of working hours) but Tan would grovel so nicely for you, kiss you tenderly and whisper sweet nothings in your ear and then happily do the same between your legs. And Lemon? He’d buy him a Guinness in a few days and ring his favorite call girl from London and things would be peachy once again for the three of you.

The three of you, his mind emphasized, just the way he liked it.

“Oi, mate,” Lemon said and he tipped his chin up toward his brother, effectively breaking Tan from his thoughts “did ya hear me? I said Becca went to Oxford and MIT in the states. She was at Oxford the same time we were in the area ‘bout five years ago, you ‘member that? What are the odds?”

Yes, Tan did remember. They were in Oxford to kill some geezer scientist who swore he had struck up an invention to turn water into gasoline. He and Lemon got a pretty penny for that job.

“Bloody rivetin’, it is,” Tan replied, sarcasm oozing out of his mouth.

“It’s like we really have been just one step apart our whole lives, aint it?” Lemon nudges Rebecca with his shoulder, which rocked her slightly in her seat. Her expression stayed stagnant.

Tangerine swallowed a long pull of beer before he replied, “Truly unfortunate you crossed paths now then, ‘innit? Could’a kept up the game of being strangers a while longer. Hell, maybe forever.”

Lemon’s eyes widen and Tan can tell it’s taking effort for his brother to not let his smile slip. He was feeling the four large beers he had consumed while suffering through the night. His composure and any hint of “best behavior” he’d had, had begun to slip away and fast. Combine that with your shared discomfort over this spider? He was ready to escalate this evening to deadly levels.

Until your soft hand crossed over Tan’s chest and rested on his left shoulder, your cheek moving to rest on his right. The reminder of your presence gave his fury pause, and when your lithe fingers broke the barrier of his unbuttoned shirt to dance across the skin of his collar bone he felt his racing heart slow.

With one simple touch, you proved you knew his own tells, too.

“Well, I may not be a ballet prodigy like this one,” you gestured to Rebecca, “but I have been watching people dance all night and I want to go join them.”

Ballet prodigy? When had the table learned that? Fucking hell, maybe he was drunker than he thought.

“What do you think, honey?”

Lemon responded before Tan had the chance.

“Yeah, y’know what? I think that would do us all some good,” he inhaled a deep breath through his nose, before he stood and pulled out Rebecca’s chair for her.

“Bar dancing. How very Footloose,” Rebecca drawls and took Lemon’s hand he was offering you.

“Oh bloody fuckin’ hell,” Tan shook his head with a scoff.

“OK, let’s go,” you huffed and hauled Tan up by his arm.

He left the booth without a fight and let himself be maneuvered through the sea of dancing pub patrons and drunken social groups. His head was on a swivel in an effort to keep his brother in his sights, but his bleach blonde mop soon was lost in the sea of people, likely what you were striving for. Soon, a gap appeared on the dance floor for the two of you to take residence in.

“Well, that was a god damned shit show, wasn’t it?” Tan said as his hands quickly found your waist and pulled you to his chest, “don’t wanna to say I told ya so, but…”

He pursed his lips smugly and you chuffed a laugh.

“You’re such a dick."

“Imma dick? Really? After we just sat with Margret fuckin’ cunty Thatcher for an hour?”

A boisterous laugh left you this time, an Tan felt his chest puff in pride at the sound.

“Y’know what? Two. Two I told ya so’s for tonight. For the best behavior bollocks, and the fact that that woman is in fact, a complete fuckin’ bitch.”

“Oh, she’s not that bad. She’s definitely a bitch and a bit cold, but she’s not horrible.”

Tan pulled you even closer as you both swayed gently to the old folk song that played from the jukebox. His eyebrows raised incredulously and his mustache shuffled under his nose.

“On a scale from not that bad to the fuckin’ spawn of satan, I’d say she’s broken the meter, love.”

“I thought you said it was a scale, not a meter?”

“Of fuck off, don’t get smart with me.”

You grinned, but began to relent, “OK, so she’s not the most,” you floundered for a word for a moment, “pleasant, but not everyone can be! There has to be sucky people so the best people can stick out.”

“Sucky? You’re going with sucky to describe the hag now?” his tone was baffled.

“You already called her a cunt. I didn’t feel it was necessary to repeat. She’s bad, but not a cunt times two.”

It was Tan’s turn to laugh, “You’re too sweet for your own good, ya know that?”

You made a sound in disagreement.

“Not too sweet, just trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she’s bad with new people? Fuck, maybe her only coping mechinism is superme levels of bitch, who knows.”

��I thought you were an expert on figuring out why people are the way they are?”

“Well, she’s a tough bitch to crack. I’ll get her, though. Eventually.”

A grin continued to stretch on Tan’s lips as he looked down at you, his hands still on your waist and your hands gently cupped the nape of his neck.

“But really, I wanted Lem to see us giving her a chance, alright? I wanted him to know we are giving her a fair shot, just like he gave us.”

“Wrong. Lemon loved ya the moment he met ya because you are fuckin’ wonderful darlin’, and he isn’t blind so he knew it. His little creature is nothing of the sort,” Tan shot back quickly.

He wouldn’t let you even entertain the idea that you and her were similar. Tan wasn’t even sure you two were born on the same planet.

“Still, she deserved a fair chance. I didn’t want him to think that you were going to go all sterile soldier on him and reject her before we even got to know her.”

Tan rolled his eyes at the nickname. It had been given by Lemon the very first time his brother realized how adverse he was to emotions and change. You weren’t lying when you said that Lemon had been more welcoming than Tan had been in the beginning of your relationship. He didn’t like change. He liked things the way they were: him and Lemon, the way it was supposed to always be. Meeting you? That fucked everything up. You were the gorgeous cog in the carefully organized assembly that was his life. It took him longer than he cared to remember, or admit, to realize that maybe he liked his life a hell’uve a lot better with an intruder like you in it. You were what his well oiled machine was missing.

“It ain’t that, love,” he replied and pulled you closer. His chin went to rest on the crown of your head and he inhaled your floral shampoo.

“Maybe it was a little, though?” you asked against the skin of his throat, and Tan didn’t have to respond for you to know the answer.

Of course it was that. Rebecca being a slag only worked to solidify her as public enemy number one, but she had secured that placement before Tangerine even knew her name. She had the ability to cause a rift in his life- the ability to take his brother and the comfort Tan found in him- and he just couldn’t have that.

“You know how I am,” was all he said in return, and you did know.

“I do… which is why I am proud of you, baby,” you pulled away enough to meet his gaze, “because four years ago, you wouldn’t have even entertained this night. But look at you now.”

Your smile thawed him further, though the compliment made him feel awkward.

“So what? Ya sayin’ you fixed me?”

“Nah,” you moved your hands to frame his cheeks, “just shaped you up a little.”

Tan shook his head at your words and did his best to not be charmed by them, but to no avail.

“See? Too fuckin' sweet. If I were watchin’ us, I’d fuckin’ retch.”

Your lips met his a moment later, and your sickening display of affection continued to onlookers. And Tan didn't give one flying fuck. With the taste of your lips on his and your plush body pressed to his front, the only worry he had was if he could shuffle you to the bathroom in time to fuck you the way he needed to.

“But really,” you pulled away abruptly (far too soon) (much to his and his cock's annoyance), “Me, sweet? C'mon, I mean I can be… but listen if Rebecca had said one bad word about you at that table? I would have jumped across it and ripped a chunk of her hair out. No holds barred, the gloves would be off, baby.”

It was Tan’s turn to laugh, full and hearty. And hell, maybe even a little warm.

“S’my girl.”

Then he took your hand from his face and rose it above your head to spin you in a wild circle like a music box doll. Your sequel of joy was music to his ears. When he was finished with his expert twirling he pulled you firmly back to his chest. Tan wasted no time to let you catch your breath or recenter yourself in the still world before his mouth was on yours again, picking up right where you left off moments ago.

As he devoured you with his kiss and groped your body up just the way he liked, he slowly started to forget the terrible start this evening had.

Tomorrow, he’d talk to Lemon to smooth things over. Fuck, maybe even ask about the spider and how his brother was doing in the relationship, even if it pained him to think about. Sure, he was doing his best to be more in touch with his “emotions”, but the thought of a full heart to heart with Lemon did make his stomach queasy.

He’d have to decide what he needed to do in the end, but for right now with you in his arms and the promise of a hot night ahead, the discomfort of what was to come didn’t seem so bad.

well, i hope you liked it! (: not my favorite thing i've ever written, but i just really wanted to start writing fics again!! lemme know if you want some more atj stories and if you enjoyed this, i'd love to hear it with a reblog, comment or like <3

#i have two other fic ideas so theres that lmao #tangerine x reader #tangerine x oc #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #bullet train fanfic #bullet train fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson x reader #tangerine bullet train #stevesharrlngtons writes

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vintagemulti · 1 year

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a psa for those writing for johnny “soap” mctavish

as much as a love the works you’re all writing, a lot of people really don’t know how to write a scottish character (and that’s ok !!!! we get like no rep so) so as a scottish writer, i figured i should help you guys out a little bit.

dialogue

johnny has a VERYYY strong accent as i’m sure anyone can work out

however this doesn’t mean he’s suddenly speaking a different language

yes, a lot of slang is used and for a basic definition of scottish slang and how they should be used; use this ! if you have no idea of slang i’d recommend reading through every word

although we like to use slang, i can promise you that if we’re with someone that wouldn’t understand a word of it / someone who’s first language isn’t english, we wouldn’t speak fully scot (for example if johnny was speaking to alejandro or rudy)

there’s absolutely nothing to suggest he can speak gaelic. yeah i know this is an obvious one but i have seen a few people slip gaelic into his dialogue and that’s super duper inaccurate

barely anyone in scotland speaks gaelic (unless you’re up very high north or maybe in the isles). it’s actually almost an extinct language because the english pretty much wiped it out when we got colonised.

something i love to see is when he mumbles little scottish things under his breath. accurate af.

we say shite more than shit. and never ever will a scottish person say ass. it’s arse all the way.

we don’t call people (especially if you’re sleeping with someone !!!!) lass. or lassie. we call kids that.

pet names are normally along the lines of love, hen (my personal fave), sweetheart, little lady, bonnie (sometimes)

also, shagging is sex. shag, shagged, shagger. yeah.

mum not mom. maw, more commonly.

all that being said he does use a loottttt of slang so honestly go ham i love seeing scots language get used because it’s not been used in fanfic like ever before

culture

seen a few people write soap going mad for st andrews day

yeah no we don’t to that lol i barely every remember that it’s actually st andrews day

also, we aren’t all completely versed on celtic mythology. i could barely tell you the first thing about it.

in scotland we’re all kind of touchy, like we’ll greet people with a hug and stand weirdly close to each other so if that’s something you’re writing about it’s important to note that our personal space is really small

not sure where people get this idea from but scotland isn’t all sheep and highlands and fairies and like little huts

yes we have that but we’re a really modern nation and wayyy to many people have a weird perception of scotland

my man is literally from like glasgow (his accent sounds glasgow but don’t quote me on that) he’s not a farmer or anything

we swear. a lot.

KILTS. not skirts, very common to wear in scotland to events like weddings, christenings, anything formal really.

cunt isn’t a horrible word i literally everyone a cunt, sometimes it’s used affectionately

misc.

if you’re gonna write about scottish politics i beg you research it. johnnys probably pro independence and an SNP voter. google it for context

we’re really loud. and we talk really fast. yes, other characters are gonna be confused af

irn bru !!!!!!!!! it’s a scottish drink and ive seen one person mention it and i just about cried i loved it

in scotland you can vote at 16 and join the army at 16 if that’s relevant to you

if you’re going to write about something you don’t know anything about, either do research or ask someone scottish (im more than happy to help!!)

please don’t take these as complaints or anything !! it’s just very very off putting to see people make massive misconceptions and conclusions about scotland! i love that we’re finally getting some hype. anyways ask about anything!! <3

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phoenixyfriend · 1 year

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[squints at the MCU] Tony Stark has displayed more ability to weather interrogation and torture than Steve Rogers.

This is "(displayed more)(ability)," not "(displayed)(more ability)," to be clear.

(I know fiction’s depiction of torture is famously propagandafied, but in this case, it’s not about torture for information so much as physical traumas shown on screen.)

(Anyway, have a rant I did on discord the other day.)

It's not really so much about "resisted the urge to hand over information" as "survived a truly harrowing experience and still came out of it trying to do good."

Tony's very first movie involves getting repeatedly drowned while in constant pain from bomb injuries as a civilian contractor, and I… don't think I can remember anything even a little similar with Steve

I don't think he's ever been captured for long before breaking out? All his injuries are in active battle, not torture.

Like... Steve went through something horrible with the ice and losing Bucky, nobody can argue that. But I think it's very telling, sometimes, that movie Steve, especially 2012 movie Steve, is completely unaware of the absolute nightmare that Tony experienced in his solo movies.

I have so many feelings about Tony Stark being the epitome of "guy who was raised and manipulated into being a bad person by someone he trusted, and (after a horrible experience) attempts to be a better person, constantly and consistently, even if he sometimes fucks up in the execution."

And the way that some fics elide his experiences in cleaning up other people's messes (first Obadiah's, then Howard's) and how that doubtlessly compounded his many neuroses from fixing messes that he did actually create himself is just

I have a lot of feelings

And am also feeling a little bitter and salty about how Tony Stark's MCU incarnation reportedly took some inspo from Elon Musk... and a little petty and satisfied about just how drastically we've all be shown that Musk can never live up to the idea of 'billionaire with inherited wealth who actually, without hesitation, risks his own life to save millions' that he tried to use PR to achieve in the media with 'my electric cars are gonna save the world' stunts about things he didn't actually have a hand in inventing

I'm just reading some fics I really enjoyed when I was still in the YA fandom, and there was a reference to a line Steve said in the movies and I started thinking (again) about how frequently fans take lines from Steve or Sam about Tony as gospel, because they haven't seen Tony's movies, and the lines from the star spangled boys are contextually meant to show that they don't know jackshit about Tony or his life, because they are directly contradicted by multiple prior films.

Also like... how often Steve's traumas get explored (in fic) in a way that Tony's just... don't? At most, his issues about Howard get explored, but that's it.

There's this moment in CACW that people take as Accurate and it infuriates me.

Tony Stark: [Back in the cell.] Just look. Because that is the fellow who was supposed to interrogate Barnes. [He shows a holographic image of Doctor Broussard.] Clearly, I made a mistake. Sam, I was wrong. Sam Wilson: That's a first.

Which, like... it's a bad movie. Obviously. But also

That line is immediately followed by Tony revealing that he's here to help the others and is sabotaging the security to make sure Ross can't take advantage, and yet fanfic still uses Sam's quote to promote anti-Tony agendas!

And 'Tony admits he fucked up' is. Like. Listen to me

Tony's first solo movie is fixing Obadiah's machinations. *

His second solo movie is fixing his Dad's fuckup.

His first team movie is fixing Thor's mistakes.

His third solo movie is fixing something that is only tangentially his fault.

It's not until AoU that the fuck-up is really his and his alone (well, not counting Bruce), and even then, even then, a massive portion of the blame is narratively laid at Wanda's feet!

And only then do we get this man, who has spent five movies seeing what happens when people don't take responsibility for their actions, or have anyone riding them to be ethical, who has criticized himself for neither having that oversight nor providing that oversight for people who snuck shit under his nose, that is when we get Tony weighing in on the side of "most countries on the planet are agreeing with this and it's for a reason, please work with me here, maybe we can get some of it rolled back to be less authoritarian and more reasonable."

* and removing himself from the military industrial complex he was raised and groomed to be in, but that's a system and not an individual act or a set 'villain'

Or as @firebirdeternal put it:

I would say that his first solo movie does have a large element of fixing his own mistakes too, it's just that his "mistake" was Trusting the Wrong Person and not taking personal responsibility for how his actions are affecting the world. (Which, he immediately does upon coming back from being captured? "We're going to immediately stop making weapons, because it's making the world worse" and then when Obadiah cuts him out of the company he goes "Oh. Okay no that didn't work, have to personally fix all this then.") and yeah it's just Tony have plenty of reasons to be on the side of "Someone needs to have oversight over this"

IM1 is such a good exploration of someone in privilege saying "this stops now" in a situation where they do have control because they have been confronted with their mistakes in a way that's unavoidable

It's also like, a great example of the fantasy of the Super Hero. Because Tony Stark, the businessman, even with all his wealth and knowledge, isn't able to stop the systemic harm being caused by His Own Company. One person isn't able to do that, even with the best of intentions. It isn't until he becomes something else, something more, a Super Hero, that he's able to make any kind of meaningful change on his own. Like IM1 is just a phenomenal movie. It understood it's subject material so incredibly well.

And people skip it and then take Steve and Sam at their word about Tony's strength of character and moral convictions and I scream.

THIS MAN FLEW A NUKE INTO A WORMHOLE WITH THE FULL EXPECTATION THAT HE WAS GOING TO DIE

Yeah, like, that Jump on the Grenade mentality is something that he and Steve actually literally share.

They both had 'jump on the explosive to save people' moments in their introductory movies.

I find so much more strength and inspiration in stories like Thor and Tony, where they are inherently fuck-ups and were shitty people and they are trying so damn hard to be better, which is more Tony than Thor really, but both of them and their first movies are just. I find that more inspiring than Steve or T'Challa or any other hero who was already a good person and just Became Great.

Tell me about the person who has to struggle to find that moral choice. Tell me about Natasha dragging herself from her oceans of blood and Tony fighting the government over whether they have the rights to use weapons he's created and about Thor having to reckon with his family's power being born of imperialistic ravaging of other cultures.

I want to hear about the people for whom being good is hard and a choice they don't have to make, but then they make it anyway.

Also I stand by "I am Iron Man. [infinity snap]" being the most amazing bookend the MCU could have done and probably the best part of the Endgame.

#Tony Stark #character analysis #phoenix talks #MCU #Iron Man Movies #Iron Man #Avengers #AoU #CACW #AEG #torture mention

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comradekatara · 1 month

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Based on you own ideas of how the atla characters would develop in the future, in a time travel au which character do you think would be funniest to have wake up as their younger selves right at the start of s1? Sokka i personally think would hate it in a particularly hilarious way but i feel like there is also a lot of potential with ozai or king kuei for they ways it could derail the plot and confuse the shit out of everyone around them

LMFAO okay i am imagining kuei waking up one unspecified day and suddenly just knowing everything about the war while long feng continues to lie to him. this would be a really funny premise for a fanfic if kuei was even like. 20% smarter but unfortunately he’d just expose himself and long feng would have no choice but to imprison or straight up kill him and then claim that kuei contracted tuberculosis or something. ozai waking up back in power but with the knowledge of how he will be deposed is kind of terrifying, but i’m also laughing because that’s literally the plot of madame web. and yeah sokka would be incredibly frustrated because even more than before, he literally knows exactly what to do in any given situation, and absolutely no one is listening to him. and every time he proves his powers of prophecy they’re just like “wow!!!” and then continue to disregard everything he says anyway. the funniest thing about sokka Knowing is his relationship to zuko though, because zuko is the only person he actually does 180 on (unless you count aang, but like, eh), and it’s because zuko genuinely did suck and then he grew to suck a little less. but sokka would finally know what iroh meant by “he has good inside of him” and so he’d find ways to like. torture him. by quoting act 2 scene 3 lines 43-57 of love amongst the dragons while they’re fighting or something like that.

which brings me to the most obvious candidate. zuko is just clearly the forerunner here it’s not even a contest. everyone else grows a lot internally too, but zuko’s external growth is by far the most pronounced across the show. book 1 zuko literally has the opposite goals of book 3 zuko. so when zuko wakes up on his boat and has his stupid ponytail and is just like “what the fuck is going on,” he’s relieved to see that he’s in the south pole so maybe sokka and katara will have answers as to what is happening to him. and due to his lethal lack of tact, he still approaches their village in his giant hunk of metal and crashes through their wall and terrifies everyone. sokka is staring him down, preparing to die, clutching his weapons, and zuko just runs up to him and tackles him in a hug before sokka can even respond. and then he runs up to katara and hugs her too while she shrieks her head off and tries to fight him. and sokka is just standing there utterly humiliated because he couldn’t even defend himself against his attack….. and now he’s got his sister………. he’s a complete failure��…… but zuko doesn’t even care that sokka is having an existential crisis and katara is screaming bloody murder, he’s just like “boy oh boy my best friends i sure am glad to see you :)” while they just keep trying to attack him and kill him. yeah, now that’s what i call comedy.

#elfantasmadejanis #asks #zuko #AUs #kuei #ozai #sokka #katara #sokkaxzuko #katara&zuko #ish #he tries to explain himself to them but they both just think he’s clinically insane and needs to be admitted to a sanitarium #but zuko would go into a long disney movie ass speech about how he ‘knows that katara likes to hum while she cooks’#or that ‘sokka sticks his tongue out when he’s concentrating’#and sokka’s like ‘everyone does those things. those are just lucky guesses.’#and katara’s just like ‘OMG HE IS OUR BESTIE FROM THE FUTURE!!!!’#and then katara and zuko outvote sokka and now they’re stuck with this fucking guy. i guess.#genuinely would read this fanfic it would be so fucking funny

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trainsinanime · 6 months

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Your favorite fanfic writer doesn't know (but would like to)

Let's talk about comments on fanfics. This is not meant as a guide or call to action, just a bit of observations. Personally, I always saw it as impolite to ask for reviews or kudos or comments or likes or reblogs or whatever. That's not a rational point of view, it just reflects how I am. And people actually telling others that they have to leave any of this feedback? I've blocked folks over that. In my mind that's not okay. I'm not announcing a change of that, this is not a policy, just some deep-seated mental issues, but I want to write down some more things that have been going through my mind, from the perspective of someone who occasionally writes fanfics. My previous suggestion in this regard was mostly to write some fanfic yourself and see what happens and what you'd like to happen, because it's genuinely fun and I think you probably have more to say than you realise.

But there's also another point here, and that is that your favourite fanfic writer has no idea that they are. If you're anything like me, then it will seem like the great writers in your fandom are obvious. Also, the last time you bought Blåhajs, it ended with you having to flee a smoke-filled subway tunnel. The great stories and great writers in your universe are facts of nature. You read a story and you think, "this is the greatest thing I've ever seen." A story rewires your brain chemistry forever. You keep coming back and reading that one fic whenever the mood hits you. It feels obvious that this story is great. How could it not be?

It feels trite to say that the author of that fic doesn't know that unless you tell them, but it's hard to really understand the feeling unless you've been there yourself. You write a story, but is it any good? Maybe you get a lot of kudos, or maybe very little, but what does either of that mean? Kudos can mean literally anything from "loved this" to "didn't close the tab in disgust". Maybe you just got unlucky. Maybe you just got lucky. What do these numbers mean? What is a good number of kudos? 1? 10? 100? 1000? Should I calculate ratios? How do I know whether people like this?

In light of this, a comment where someone just said, "I loved this", has an almost incalculable worth. A comment where someone says they read this over and over again, or quotes lines they loved, or something? You can't imagine how valuable that is. A while ago someone told me "a couple of us are talking about this on Discord, we love it and we keep repeating our favorite lines". I thanked them, but I was too polite to say, "really? What are they saying? Which are your favorite lines? How many people are there who love it? What are their names? Which lines are the favorite ones, please, tell me!". Part of me still regrets that, because I so desperately want to know! I don't think it was a public Discord and I never heard from the others on it, but just the idea that they're out there and they like my story was so powerful. (By the way, it's not on any account that's linked from here, please don't try to find that comment.)

Now, I firmly believe that you, as a reader, don't have to care about any of that. I know there are people who disagree with me on this point, very strongly in fact, but I don't think it's necessarily your job to care. It's great if you do, and I think a lot of you do in fact care, that's why I'm writing this. But if you haven't thought about that or don't feel comfortable leaving comments or whatever, that's fine, that's normal, and you are in fact part of the majority. Any well-adjusted fic author has found ways to deal with this. They have learned to love writing for its own sake, or they love re-reading their own fics, or they have a couple of trusted friends who like their work, or ideally all three. Personally I was scared of Discord for the longest time, but it really helps with that. One person who you sort of know going "hey that's neat" can outweigh just about anything else. (Still, there will be days when you post something and you won't get a response and that just plain sucks, no two ways about it.)

But if you do care, if you think it's important that a fanfic writer knows what they mean to you, not because of any concern about the wider unpaid fan creator economy but just because of the way their work affected you, then this is important. Your favorite fanfic writer probably doesn't know and/or believe that they're anyone's favorite, and even if they do, a reminder or learning that someone knew found them will make them incredibly happy. And obviously, all of that applies at least just as much to all the beginners with potential that are out there. So if you're wondering whether it's worth it leaving a comment that says how much you enjoyed something: It probably is. And if you shared this with others and they loved it, or if this is your favourite fic, or if you enjoy how original it is, or how well it does your favourite tropes, or anything like that, the writer is going to be so happy to hear that.

A final aside: This obviously applies even more when it's about fandoms, pairings, subject matter and in particular ratings that are considered a bit embarrassing. Writers who write stuff that, say, happens to be E-rated for whatever reason, doesn't matter, will probably get fewer kudos and comments just because people are embarrassed to have their names show up in the Kudos and Comment sections. If that's you, just a note that it is perfectly okay to comment anonymously, or to create a second separate account for leaving kudos on, commenting on and maybe even posting the somewhat more risqué stuff. Now I'm not saying I have one of these second accounts, at least I'm not saying that in public, but it is an option worth considering.

#fanfic #comments

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volixia669 · 1 year

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OTW’s Legal Chair is Pro-AI and What That Means

traHoooooooo boy. Okay, so for those who don’t know, OTW shared in their little newsletter on May 6th an interview their legal chair did on AI.

Most people didn’t notice...Until a couple hours ago when I guess more high profile accounts caught wind and now every time I refresh the tweet that links the newsletter that’s another 10+ quote tweets.

The interview itself is short, was done in February, and...Has some gross stuff.

Essentially Betsy Rosenblatt agrees with Stability AI that its fair use, and believes that AI is “reading fanfic”.

To be EXTREMELY clear: Generative AI like ChatGPT is not sentient. No AI is sentient, and Generative AI are actually incredibly simple as far as AI goes. Generative AI cannot “read”, it cannot “comprehend” and it cannot “learn”.

In fact, all Generative AI can do is spit out an output created out of a dataset. Its output is reliant on there being variables for it to spit back out. Therefore, it cannot be separated from its dataset or its “training”.

Additionally, the techbros who make these things are profiting off them, are not actually transforming anything, and oh yeah, are stealing people’s private data in order to make these datasets.

All this to say: Betsy Rosenblatt does not actually understand AI, has presumably fallen for the marketing behind Generative AI, and is not fit to legally fight for fic writers.

So what does this mean? Well, don’t delete your accounts just yet. This is just one person, belonging to a nonprofit that supposedly listens to its users. There’s a huge backlash on social media right now because yeah, people are pissed. Which is good.

We should absolutely use social media to be clear about our stances. To tell @transformativeworks that we are not okay with tech bros profiting off our fanworks, and their legal team should be fighting back against those who have already scraped our fanworks rather than lauding a program for doing things its incapable of doing.

I have fanfic up on Ao3. I have fanfic I’m working on that I’d love to put there too. But I cannot if it turns out the one safe haven for ficwriters is A-Okay with random people stealing our work and profiting off of it.

#ao3 #otw #transformative works #otw discourse #fuck generative ai #everyone who thinks its okay to steal people's artwork and writing to make a quick buck can go fuck themselves #i already have to deal with this shit on a professional level i don't need it in my hobby too

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foranpo · 10 months

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ੈ˚ʚ welcome to my notion tutorial !!

♡ my notion took me a month to make. It's a bit frustrating sometimes, but i want you to know that it's possible to have some organization in your life.

notion is meant to help you have a more organized life: trackers, goals, diary entries, anything can be turn into a notion page and i'm here to teach you how ♡

ps: sorry for being so long and with some typos and whatnot ♡

♡˳────── 1st step: the choice of an aesthetic.

it's important to have an idea when you start your notion;

for me, i wanted a place cozy and warm that reminded me of spring.

my main color is green. and with that defined, i started looking for color palettes with the types of green that i liked the most.

(i used this website, but any is good enough. it's just to give you an idea of what you're going to work with.)

i chose an aesthetic more gloomy, academic, and obviously green, (for my main layout, a retro blue-ish layout for my fanfics and a melancholy yellow for my original works) and with that i jumped to step 2.

♡˳────── 2nd step: hunting images and inspiration.

pinterest, pinterest, pinterest.

i can't stress this enough. use keywords to find what you actually need.

if you're a beginner, start with notion inspo, notion [aesthetic] ideas, anything notion related. pick your favs and choose what you like most about each one:

the font, the pictures, the layout, even a small detail like an aesthetic quote design -just make sure you know what you like the most.

once you have a list of what you want, you start searching for images.

keywords i suggest is: [color] aesthetic, [color] cinematography, [color] photography, and, especially, [color] png icon.

i find it really satisfying having pngs on your notion: it gives a better sense of home and they cute, so it's a plus!

(most png aren't transperants on pinterest, so i use this app to make it a real png. now, know that it's not perfect and on dark mode might look funky, but it's worth a shot ig ♡)

now you should be left with a small gallery of photos with the same color scheme and this takes us to step 3!

♡˳────── 3rd step: dividers save lives.

pick one image to be the base of your notion layout.

it might be for your notion icon, header, or just a random pic laying around your notion. but make sure you only have one.

with that, go to an app that finds colors (i use this one) and pick the 3 most predominant colors! i suggest one darker, one lighter, and one in between.

this works not only as dividers but to enhance any quote or pic that you have. e.g.:

as you can see, this little dividers (size that i use: 948x8) work better than the ones provided by notion and they're easy to make. just open paint and you're done!

and once you have all the inspo, all the pics and dividers, it's time to create some art ♡

♡˳────── 4th step: the creation of art.

is time to make pages and more pages.

now, please know that this requires lots of work, frustation and patience. sometimes the website doesn't want to collaborate and it might get a bit annoying. but know that it's totally fine to take breaks and take your time. this is something for you and you only.

you can take all the time you want ♡

ㅤㅤ♡˳────── 4.1 step: page outline.

choose the number of pages !

i suggest you have one homepage with quick links to your other pages:

trackers, school related, hobbies, anything really.

it's your notion after all, you can do anything.

after having the number of pages you can star outlining the pages.

the beginning is always difficult and embaracing, but if you give it a try, i'm sure you will create art!

i suggest, if you do a full page, to use 4 to 6 columns. it might be a bit overwhelming at the start, but i found it easier to work with more columns and less rows. also, it's more compact which makes everything x3254 cuter.

nut you can literally do whatever you want! so here's my organization ♡

my personal organization !

homepage (5-6 columns, 4 rows): quick links to my other 4 pages. daily routine. quick reading and writing trackers. my performances schedules and feedback. goals for the month. clock, weather, year progress bar (see end of post).

original works (4-6 columns, 2 rows): my three wips. websites that help me with writing. my progress in each work. motivational quotes.

fanfic works (4 columns): folders for each fandom with more folders for hcs, one-shots, multi-chapter and ideas. motivational quotes. goals for the year. pretty pics and quotes.

trackers (5-6 columns, 4-5 rows): media that i'm currently consuming or consumed, with details such as rating, author, and some sub-pages with my extensive thoughts.

bookstagram (6 columns): goals and soft reminders, filters inspo and my personal reviews and thoughts to publish.

in short !

have one big page at the beginning to help you navigate easier.

don't be afraid to had columns and rows! if there's a blank space, throw some png's and quotes at it. it always makes everything 10x cuter.

ㅤㅤ♡˳────── 4.2 step: widgets are your best friends.

add some widgets to make it prettier ♡

i use this website. it's pretty easy and has the main widgets.

a quick google search might take you to other websites so feel free to explore ♡

♡˳────── 5th step: a touch of magic and stardust.

the start of a new page is always frustating: what aesthetic to use? what do you put first? what if it's corny? too much quotes? so many questions and, hey!, i hear ya! it's a pain in the ass.

that's why i'm here to tell you that you will change your layout lot's of time. even if you have already in mind what you have, it's only normal to change stuff every now and then until you have the perfect page.

e.g.:

you can see how my first homepage (pic. 1) changed dratically for my current homepage (pic.2). not only the color scheme changed, but the layout itself.

more artistic pictures, cuter png's and quotes, and my homepage changed completely!

so don't be afraid of change! it is important fr ♡

♡˳────── don't forget about...

you can change the font and size of the page by clicking on the three dots on the top right of your screen ♡

make your text pretty with cool symbols !!

again, just surf the internet and tumblr and i'm sure that aesthetic bios will provide you with the cute little symbols to make everything cute ♡

be creative with your picture layouts ! ♡

i personally use pinterest (frame template) and clipstudio to make prettier pictures, but i'm sure any photoshop app can give you this effect as well.

play with png's and make your notion look more alive ♡

any hanging or 2 png's similar can help with a look cleaner and more organized.

add spotify playlist (it had to be public, i'm afraid) and youtube videos for more diversity!

table view is a life changer for oranizing trackers, especially books and movies ♡

let me know if you want a deeper tutorial on how to use any function or if i forgot mentioning something you would like to know more about ♡

i hope this helps you and it's clear. know that i'm here for anything you need and i'm sure you're gonna do amazing things there ♡

#;cole's notion;#notion #notion inspo #notion ideas #notion tutorial #notion tut

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hypervoxel · 2 months

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Jumble of headcanons in no particular order about Vark because I need to write them down somewhere to pretend to be organized

He started off sooo cute and tiny, like the size of a guinea pig. And he made laser noises like a baby Cuban crocodile.

He was so so tiny. He did not stay tiny.

Sharks sense electricity! He's naturally drawn to Vox when Vox is taking in or letting off too much power. He naturally interrupts Vox's overstimulation and warns about seizures, so Vox trained him some actual medical alert tasks.

Service shark Vark 🐕‍🦺

On the topic of electricity, I also headcanon him as having some aspects of an electric eel as well. A fantasy eel. He can take in some of Vox's excess energy, and isn't bothered by the sparks Vox throws off.

I'm chewing on the idea that Val bought Vark for Vox as an apology gift.

Now I'm just quoting myself directly from discord: I keep thinking of how I can include this (Vark being a gift from Val) in my one fanfic where it obviously does not fit bc Val hates Vark in it. Maybe he's jealous that Vox cares way more about Vark himself than the fact that Val gave him a gift. So unappreciative, didn't even have make-up sex over it bc Vox was too busy practically having a breakdown over how adorable Vark is. Val realizes that this was a mistake and he should have picked a very different gift instead

Vark is such a well behaved good boy when he's working, as a service shark. When Vox is in distress, Vark is so focused on trying to help with all the power of his tiny shark brain <3 Outside of that tho? He's a terror. He's so excitable. He canonically (in the old Voxtagram art) jumps on and knocks people over. This ties into him previously being a tiny adorable little thing. It was sooo cute when he jumped on your leg, back when he was the size of a large potato. It stayed cute up until they realized he was going to be so much bigger than they ever expected.

(It's like a bottle raised bull. The cute things they did when they were a little baby calf are no longer cute now that they're so large they are going to hurt you on accident just trying to be friendly and playful. RIP.)

Other service dog tasks for Vark: deep pressure therapy (of course. Interrupting behaviors such as when Vox is getting overwhelmed. Blocking to stop other people from getting too close to/touching Vox when he would shock them. I am forgetting so many things and will continue writing this list later

Vox doesn't do public access with Vark. This ties into my headcanons for Vox that he is deeply ashamed of himself and he cannot let anyone know he has problems ever.

Unfortunately, I am evil. So I also like the idea of Vark as an owner-trained service animal who is hmm not the perfect candidate for the job. In the same way shepherds aren't recommended for anxiety work, he can feed too much off of Vox's own emotions and has issues with guarding aggression that at times cause him to become reactive. (*points at my fanfic where he bites Val*)

I love bad representation.

Alsooo I don't like hammerhead sharks or animals that are too cartoon-y for me to understand as a real creature, so I'm making up a new design for Vark

Based on a Bonnethead Shark! Fun fact about Bonnethead Sharks: they are omnivorous! They eat seagrass :)

So Vark is omnivorous but unfortunately he's also like a tiger shark in that he'll eat anything even if it's not food. Tiger sharks have been found with license plates, tires, and other trash in their stomachs (sad)

Don't ask Vox how many times Vark has needed emergency exploratory surgery after eating something he shouldn't have. He doesn't want to talk about it.

Vark chews on wires like real sharks biting at undersea fiber optic cables. Chomp chomp

When Vark was a tiny baby, Velvette dressed him up in silly little outfits to post online. She doesn't do that anymore because he has mostly outgrown his cuteness stage for her: she only thought he was cute when he was little.

#oh that was NOT supposed to post yet #i am bad at editing my drafts apparently :/#vark #hazbin hotel vark #hazbin vox #Vox #i do not know if he has a standard tag that we're all using‚ i just wing everything i put on here

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codfanficedits · 4 months

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Before the mask - Part thirteen

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.

Wordcount: 2050| Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: mentioning of childhood abuse, an attempt at a decent conversation

A/N: As a true fanfic writer, I have been scheduled to a surgery and I'll be most likely to go MIA for a few weeks while I recover, I'm sorry!

Simon knew it wasn’t fair to take it out on you. He knew it wasn’t your fault, he knew you didn’t raise him to be like this. But in that split second, he couldn’t stop it, his mind was so overwhelmed that he had lashed out.

‘I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite.’ The quote he had once heard fills his mind, Simon didn’t want to be a violent dog, never wanted to be one, he saw what had happened to violent dogs. But if you mistreat a dog long enough, if you beat a dog long enough. It will only know violence.

His mind is running wild and once more Simon doesn’t know what to do, he could feel you freeze up in his lap, and he doesn’t know if he should wrap his arms around you, beg you for forgiveness, tell you he didn’t mean to, but that he panicked? Or should he keep true to his word, really kick you out and deal with the consequences, he could always make it up to you later.

And oh God. Dear fucking God.

What if you get tired of this? What if he is more broken than you though he would be and what if you grow sick of it? What if you see him for who he really is? A broken boy, with no clue who he really is, just trying to mend his personality to the people he deemed special, so they won’t leave him? A broken boy, who has been hurt so many times before, that he felt as if he wasn’t worthy of attention ever again, especially yours.

A broken boy, who is so angry at the world, because everybody saw what was happening, and nobody tried to stop it.

And those boys live together, making Simon who he is in this moment. All of them together are trying to fight to keep him as safe as they can. And you. You’re dangerously close, you can make him feel vulnerable and that is something Simon struggles with. It goes against who he thought he was.

But maybe, just maybe, he could allow himself to tear those walls down a little bit, to let you in a little bit. Maybe he could allow you to be the guiding moon in the darkness of his mind.

For Simon, this feels like an eternity, while in reality, his little snapping wasn’t more than a few seconds ago.

You blink, once, twice. What the fuck just happened? How did he go from being so.. so.. happy to whatever the fuck this was?

You’re stunned, the way he switched up so fast wasn’t something you were used to.

And his eyes betrayed him. They betrayed how he really felt, they betrayed the turmoil of emotions within. They couldn’t hide the storm that he felt, and you noticed, you could see right through those eyes.

But you weren’t put on this earth to change him, to fix him, to pick up the pieces others had caused and glued them back on. That wasn’t what you were made for, no matter what you had been told.

Of course you felt sympathy for what had happened, of course no one should’ve been raised the way he had been raised, but it was a reason for his behaviour, not an excuse.

“What the fuck, Simon.”

And Simon winces from your harsh words, a sinking feeling in his gut when he realizes he might not get away with this type of behaviour. He wants to open his mouth, to come up with a thousand different excuses as to why he had acted the way he did. But he gets shushed by you.

“No, you listen.” You say, warning him. “We just agreed we have to communicate more, we just agreed to let each other in, and here you are, shutting me out again. You can’t demand that I share my feelings with you, that I share my thoughts with you when things get me overwhelmed, only for you to shut me out.” You get off his lap, feeling that your words don’t have as much power when you’re sitting down. And maybe going for the attack wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but you were only human too.

“You don’t know how it is.” Simon muttered.

“Then tell me how it is!” You didn’t want to raise your voice, but it happened anyway, the frustration getting the best of you.

Simon shuts down again, how could he possible explain what is going on inside of him, when he himself doesn’t fully understand what is happening? And on top of that, how is he supposed to share his feelings. He is a man, and men are not supposed to be soft, to be caring, to be sweet, that is not what he has been taught. And how could one man go against the generational trauma that has bestowed upon him?

“Simon.” You sigh his name and it sounds so sweet to him. “I will never be able to fully understand what you went through, I will never be able to say that I get how you feel, because my upbringing has been so different than yours. But, if you shut me out completely, I will never understand even the slightest part of you, and we can’t have that, not if we want to make us work. So please, for the love of God, don’t shut me out.”

His mind is running, and he is unable to fully comprehend what is happening, his mind is screaming one thing, to brush this off, to snap at you again, to tell you to shut up, but the other part, the part that wants to heal, is begging him to let you in.

The difficult thing about healing, is that it takes place outside of someone’s comfort zone.

And being abused means that Simon has been out of his comfort zone for most of his life, and it’s a battle, a struggle, to give up that comfort zone again, now that he has finally found it. His throat feels dry, no matter how often he swallows, he has to make a choice and he hates that he can’t have a little preview about the outcome of his choice would be, and that alone makes him doubt it all even more.

“I..” His voice drowns out, how should he phrase this? Hell, he doesn’t even know what he wants to say himself. “Scared.”

It seems like you would have to lead this conversation.

You lean against his dresser, trying to let your rational side speak and not your heart. “What are you scared of?”

What was he scared of? Losing you, losing himself, being himself, not being himself. Existing while others had made sure he was broken.

“I.. It’s a conflict.” He eventually managed to say, and he is silently pleading for you to be content with this information.

“A conflict between what?” You try not to let your patience wear thin, you know he can’t help it, you know it isn’t his fault, although you still feel as if his reaction is his responsibility.

Simon fidgets with his hands, cursing himself that a simple morning of crafting, of making the mask he wanted to wear for Halloween had ended up with this. If only he had behaved himself better, if only he had just shut up when he got overwhelmed.

“I have been taught to be violent.” He admitted quietly. “And doing this.” He pauses to gesture to the paper mâché. “This is not violent.”

That was something you could work with, that was something a conversation could be build on.

“What is it about violence, that brings you peace?”

His blood runs cold, his stomach churns and he has to swallow the lump in his throat. He hadn’t told you he found peace in the violence, yet you hit the hammer on the head while you looked right through him.

“It’s all I’ve known.” He muttered. “It’s what I’ve been raised with. It’s what comes naturally.”

It’s saddening to see, really. He hides it so well during the day, when he is out with others, yet right now his childhood takes over, the trauma fronting, taking over his personality, and he could be so much more than just his trauma.

“Is it what makes you happy?” You ask, maintaining eye contact, no matter how invasive it might feel.

Simon shakes his head, while it brought him a sense of peace, a sense of comfort, a sense of familiarity, it didn’t make him happy, he had tasted life without violence, and he craved the sweetness of it.

See, your first reaction was to ask him why he did it anyway, but you knew he didn’t know, it was a habit, reacting out of anger, reacting in a violent matter, it is what his father had taught him was right, and it was what the army had praised him for.

“What did you feel when we were done mask making?” A new question to snap him out of it.

Should he tell you? What if you find him to be weird? What if you think he shouldn’t feel like this? But the gentle look in your eyes makes him believe that you won’t judge him, that you would at least try to understand him.

“At first I was proud.” He admitted with a sheepish smile. “I never really did this type of stuff growing up. And then I felt fear. Fear that I was becoming too soft, and all of the sudden I feel this random wave of sadness coming over me. And that was too much.”

Oh, his words tug on your heart string, he sounds so sweet, so vulnerable, so human.

“What’s wrong with feeling sad, with feeling fear or pride?” It is a genuine question, as you really try to understand what he is going through.

“I am not supposed to feel these things!”

“Why not? You’re only human.”

Only human.

He was allowed to be only human.

You could see it in his face, his eyes getting a little bloodshot, a little bit of moisture starting to collect at the bottom lid of his eyes, the soft trembling of his bottom lip, the sharp intake of air when he tries to fight it. A little sniffle, and finally a tear.

Simon Riley was allowed to be human.

Your first instinct would be to hug him, coddle him. Tell him everything will be alright. But you also know that not everyone feels the same way, and the last thing you want to do, is to push his boundaries, especially at times like these.

“What do you need from me?” You ask, your voice soft. “Do you want a hug? Do you want to be left alone? Do I need to get you some water?”

Simon just looks up at you, the tears in his eyelashes makes it hard to see, and while he opens his mouth to talk, no sound comes out, instead he holds out his arms, an universal sign that he needed you.

The moment you’re within his reach, his arms wrap around your waist and he buries himself into you, years of build up rage, build up frustration, build up fear, and sadness, they all leave him through his sobs. His shoulders shake after each cry, and all you can do is stroke his hair, murmur sweet nothings, so he knows it is okay to let go like this.

Although for Simon, it does feel pathetic, it feels wrong to let go like this. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t cry like he is, he should hold it in.

But fuck does it feel amazing to let go, to let the floodgates open and just let everything out.

Your nails gently scratch the skin on his scalp. “You’re only human, Si.” You whisper, barely being heard over his sobs. “And I’m really proud of you for not shutting me out.”

He looks up at you, red, puffy eyes, wet cheeks, but the sobs had stopped. “Fuck.” Was all he could muster. “I have no idea how to feel, what to feel, how to describe it.”

“Then just feel.”

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pedroscurls · 9 months

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Always Here For You

Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales and Reader (female, second person POV) Summary: Frankie comforts you as you cope with your grief. Word Count: 1,193 Author's Note: This is part of @pedrostories 1k celebration. Prompt quote is: “Alright baby, alright baby. Come on now.” and fanfic trope is Hurt/Comfort. I also just want to express my gratitude for allowing me to submit this even past the deadline. This was very cathartic and very close to home (with the recent loss I've experienced). I know I said I was taking a writing hiatus, but this was something that had been in the back of my mind for a little over a week now... Warning: mentions of grief

Frankie knew that you were struggling with the recent loss of a loved one. The news came suddenly; you had gotten a call at four in the morning and when he heard the tone of your voice shift, he knew that something was wrong. He didn’t know how to comfort you, how to tell you that eventually, things will get better, because he didn’t know for sure. He had been more acquainted with loss and grief more than any person, but seeing you in this much pain… Frankie felt helpless.

You barely ate.

You barely slept.

Every night, you cried into his arms.

And every night, Frankie didn’t know what to do. He tried to make you smile, make you laugh, but nothing he did worked. He hated seeing you in so much pain and not being able to do anything about it.

Grief was crippling, Frankie knew that. The fact that someone could be gone in a second and the world would continue on like nothing happened, it was frustrating.

And you had always been so positive, always looking at the brighter side of things, even when it didn’t go your way. You were always a bright light in Frankie’s life, but the news of your loved one’s passing had dimmed that light.

And tonight was no different. You were sitting on the couch in sweats and one of his hoodies that were obviously too big on you. The hood was over your head and you were mindlessly watching whatever was on the television. You hadn’t even turned your head to look in the direction of the front door opening.

“Baby?” Frankie called out, removing his boots and his hat to set on the coffee table.

You looked up at him and Frankie felt his heart break. Your eyes were red, puffy, and you were quietly sniffling.

“Hey,” you whispered, stretching your arms out for him. Frankie bit the inside of his cheek before he sat next to you instead, pulling you onto his lap. His arms snaked around your waist as your arms moved to wrap around his shoulders. You buried your face against the side of his neck and felt tears building in your eyes once Frankie’s hand rubbed your back.

“How was your day today, hermosa?”

“Rough,” you whispered shakily. “I’m glad you’re home though.”

Frankie nodded and pressed a kiss to your temple. He continued to run his hand along your back in a comforting manner, which he found you leaning further into him. He could hear your quiet sniffling and could feel the tears begin to stain his shirt.

“Did you eat today?”

You just shook your head.

“Baby,” Frankie said quietly. “How about I order us some pizza? We can have a movie night, eat some food, cuddle…”

“I’m not hungry,” you replied, but your stomach said otherwise. Both you and Frankie heard your stomach rumbling and you pulled back enough to look up at him with soft eyes, biting your lower lip. “Don’t listen to that.”

“Sounds like you are, hermosa,” he said with a smile, gently poking your abdomen. “What about breadsticks?”

You shook your head.

“French fries?”

You didn’t respond, but instead just kept your eyes locked on his.

“Oh, so French Fries might be something we can work with.”

“And chicken nuggets?” you said with a hopeful tone.

Frankie smiled, gently leaning in to peck your lips. “I’ll get you anything you want as long as you eat something, hermosa.”

“Can I come with you?” you asked, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

Frankie’s eyes lit up. It had been a little over two weeks since you found out the news and since finding out, you didn’t want to leave the house, which Frankie understood. “You sure?”

“As long as I’m with you, I’ll be okay.”

Frankie smiled and moved a hand to cup your cheek, wiping away the fallen tears. He stared deeply into your eyes and leaned in to press a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“You know I’m here for you, okay?”

“I know,” you whispered shakily. “I know.”

“And no matter what, you don’t have to go through this alone, hermosa.” His thumb caressed your cheek and his eyes bore into your own. It was overwhelming, the amount of safety you felt just being in Frankie’s presence.

“It’s just–” you whispered, tears beginning to pool around your eyes again. “I don’t know how to cope with this, or move on from this and I just–”

“The pain may never go away,” he said honestly. “And there’s no timeline for these things, so if you want to cry, you want to scream, you want to just let out your emotions, then do it, hermosa. I’m here”

“But it just hurts so much and–” A breath caught in your throat and you brought a hand to wipe at your eyes, but Frankie moved both hands to cup your cheeks, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “It’s okay, hermosa.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for comfort in the depths of his brown orbs and immediately felt yourself breaking down all over again. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders tightly, burying your face against his neck as you let out a quiet sob.

“Alright baby, alright baby,” he whispered, holding you tightly against him as well. “Come on now,” Frankie said.

Frankie could feel your body trembling against his own, his shirt beginning to get wet with the stain of your tears. Your sobs filtered the living room and Frankie shut his own eyes, hoping and wishing the pain away.

“I’m here, baby,” he said quietly. “I’m here.”

You continued to cry against him, taking comfort in his strong arms wrapped around you. The pain of losing a loved one was nothing like you ever experienced before; it was debilitating, crippling, and every time you thought about what happened, your heart just broke all over again.

But Frankie was always there to pick up the pieces.

To hold you.

To whisper sweet reassurances in your ear.

Frankie was your home, your safe place, and you didn’t realize how badly you needed that right now.

When you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down, you pulled away to bring the sleeves of the hoodie to wipe away at your eyes. You looked over at Frankie and noticed him staring right back at you with soft eyes.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Frankie let a small smile line his lips. He leaned in and pecked your lips, pulling back enough to rest his forehead against yours. “And I love you, hermosa.”

Just as Frankie was going to say something, your stomach growled once more. Louder than earlier and he saw a small smile line your lips. He felt his heart soar at the sight and when he heard you let out a quiet giggle, Frankie finally felt like things were going in the right direction.

“So, fries and nuggets?” he teased.

“And a milkshake?” you asked.

Frankie smiled. “Anything you want, baby. Let’s go.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #francisco catfish morales #francisco catfish morales fanfic #francisco morales fanfic #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #pedrostories1k

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lauralot89 · 1 year

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Loveless

I'm late on this because the book was published in 2020, but I only heard about it in the last month when I was reading an article about asexuality in fiction but in case anyone is out of the loop like me let me tell you about this glory

Loveless is a YA novel by Alice Oseman, author of Heartstopper and Solitaire. It tells the story of Georgia Warr, freshman at Durham University, and her realization that while she's in love with the idea of romance, the actuality of a romantic/sexual relationship repulses her.

Alice Oseman herself is aroace, which makes perfect sense because throughout the novel I kept asking myself, "How does she know? How does she know?! How did she get these thoughts out of my head?"

for my fellow ace and/or aro people, let me quote some of the lines that just got me straight in the soul:

"I had a theory that a lot of people's "celebrity crushes" were just faked to fit in."

"I was disgusted by the thought of him near me. Wanting things from me. That wasn't normal, was it?"

"Oh, God, this thing is actually real, it's not just in fanfics and movies. And I'm supposed to be doing it too."

"Did I even know what romantic feelings felt like?"

"He was clearly the sort of person who I should like romantically. Who I could like romantically. He looked like a boyfriend. I loved his personality. I'd loved his personality for years. So I could fall in love with him. With a little bit of effort. Definitely."

"I thought I'd understood what all these romantic things would feel like--butterflies and the spark and just knowing when you liked someone. I'd read about these feelings hundreds of times in books and fanfic. I'd watched way more romcoms than was probably normal for an eighteen-year-old. But now I was starting to wonder whether these things were just made up."

"Straight people don't think shit like that."

"Just because I'd never liked anyone didn't mean I never would. Did it?"

"I thought all the movies were exaggerating, but you're all really out there just craving genitals and embarrassment. This has to be some kind of huge joke."

"How could I feel so sad about giving up these things that I did not actually want?"

"I felt like I was grieving. I was grieving this fake life, a fantasy future that I was never going to live."

"How was it fair that everyone got to feel that except me?"

"I never had any crushes when I was a child. Not any real ones, anyway. Sometimes I confused friendships for them, or just thinking a guy was really cool."

"For a long time, I was just dating and having sex because that's what people did. And I wanted to feel like those people."

"You've been so confused about stuff. You really thought we could be together, because you do love me. Not in a romantic way, but just as strongly."

"Oh. This is an asexual thing. I forgot other people are obsessed with having sex."

seriously the entire time I spent with this book I just kept asking "was this written for me specifically?" because that's exactly how it felt.

It is a gorgeous book that explores that bizarre feeling of not knowing the word for what you are, not even knowing that you are something out of the ordinary because we don't define ourselves by what we lack and we just expect that one day, it'll happen and we'll be like everyone else. That struggle of trying to differentiate between loving someone and being in love with them, and trying to make the former into the latter and hurting everything in the process.

It is so good. 10/10, no complaints

also there's an asshole in the university's queer pride group who doesn't think aces belong and everyone hates him so that's fantastic, aphobes fuck off

in conclusion I highly recommend it

#Laura reads Loveless #Loveless #Loveless novel #Alice Oseman #Loveless book #aroace #actuallyasexual #actuallyaromantic #asexuality #aromanticism #ace representation #aro representation #asexuality in fiction #aromanticism in fiction

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sflow-er · 3 months

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S2 Walty snippets series [complete]

With the final season of Young Royals almost upon us, I've been taking stock of my fics and decided to scrap the second chapter to Like you better. There is always a chance of me returning to it someday, but I don't think it really brings anything new to the fic.

That means my little series of S2-compliant Walty fics is complete, and since I never made a proper series post, here's some shameless self-promo (ft. comment quotes):

Sflow's S2 Walty snippets

S2-compliant Henry or Walty fics. The first two are consistent with each other, the last one is separate. Any of them can easily be read as a standalone. Henry is ace as always in my fics, but the depiction of his asexuality and the nature of his relationship to Walter varies.

Bright ideas: ~5k, T, platonic Walty "I love how no matter how short this little one-shot is, it still has a complete narrative structure (--) I giggled from start to finish"

Henry's motivation for rowing has been on a downward spiral all winter. He gets a little lost inside his head trying to avoid punishment for being late, until Walter tells him to get home for something exciting. Cue an awkward walk-by when Wilmon are trying to have an important talk, some related thoughts, a discussion with Walter, and an invitation for Wille to join some ridiculous shenanigans.

OR: A missing moment/scene expansion for s2ep2 (written for YR week 2023) that shows us what Henry was up to before, during and after the locker room scene. My attempt at crack.

Like you better: ~2k, T, queerplatonic OR romantic Walty "I didn't know I needed queerplatonic fanfics that much. It makes me so happy!"

After the masquerade ball, Walter comes home to Henry, who is newly recovered from a migraine attack. A bit of talk about girls, their friendship, and Henry's recent revelation of his asexuality ensues. Along with some cuddles.

OR: A super fluffy missing moment between Walty at the end of s2ep4. Can be read as either queerplatonic or romantic, your choice!

Last chance: ~7k, T, romantic Walty Not consistent with the other parts of the series! "beautifully crafted (--) second chapter was amazing and gentle and like being hugged through my phone screen"

As Henry and Walter's friendship takes a romantic turn, Henry decides to take the last chance to come out to his best friend before everything changes.

OR: A first kiss + coming out/ace talk + getting together fic set after S2 (written for Ace Awareness Week 2023). Contains discussion of past acephobia, previous sexual experience (not very specific), and aversions (French kissing specifically mentioned, the rest are up to the reader's interpretation). A more sex-favourable take on ace Henry than my other fics (sex doesn't happen in the fic, though). Also, Walter is explicitly gay in this one.

#young royals #young royals fanfic #young royals fic #henry young royals #walter young royals #walty #ace fic #s2 walty snippets #ace henry #aspec henry #asexuality #bright ideas #like you better #last chance

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shesalewa · 6 months

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Wanna know what type of comedy happens in my fanfic of Dad Gun?

Incorrect quotes

Gun: sometimes I wonder how the hell I ended up here.

Daniel: ACHOO!

Gun: bless you DanDan.

Daniel: thanks dad.

Gun: mind if I get excited for a little bit? Have any of you seen a grown man smile? *Smiles very creepily*

Everyone but goo and Daniel: *visibility shocked and sacred*

Gun: every time I show emotions, it disturbs a lot of you.

Eli: which one of you was gonna tell me that Tea tastes different if you put it into hot water?

Olly: you're putting it in... COLD WATER?!

Jake: ELI. ANSWER THE QUESTION ELI.

Eli: yeah? I thought for like 5 years that people just put it into hot water to speed up the TEA-IFFICATION process, didn't realize there was an actual reason.

Olly: YOU DON'T HAVE THE PATIENCE TO BOIL WATER IN THE MICROWAVE FOR 3 MINUTES!?

Johan: WHY. ARE YOU. BOILING IT. IN THE MICROWAVE.

Olly: DO YOU THINK I HAVE THE PATIENCE TO BOIL A CUP OF WATER ON A STOVE!?

Johan: it. takes. LESS. THAN A MINUTE.

Olly: BESTIE IS YOUR STOVETOP POWERED UP BY THE F-CKING SUN?!

Johan: HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE FOR YOU TO BOIL A CUP OF WATER ON A STOVE!?

Olly: LIKE 7 MINUTES!

Samuel: JUST STICK THE MUG ON TOP OF THE STOVE ON MEDIUM HEAT. AND IT BOILS IN LIKE 2 MINUTES, LESS THAN THAT AND YOU USE A SAUCE PAN!

Daniel: *laughing at the drama, somehow he knows how to make tea* YOU'RE PUTTING THE WHOLE MUG ON THE STOVE?! ON MEDIUM HEAT?! ... Your stove is enchanted!

Goo: every single person in this room is a f-cking lunatic.

Gun: DO NONE OF YOU OWN A F-CKING KETTLE?! (Gun an expert Japanese man who loves tea more thsn himself, legit KNOWS how to make tea)

Gun: ... How the hell did I get here.

*the four major crew legit Reeking chaos in his f-cking household*

Daniel: ... I THINK I'm the cause of all this.

Goo: I'm sometimes asked how I'm associated with Gun so often. To the point I just pull out a Marriage certificate, and shut them the hell up.

Olly: hold that sh-t up, you're married to Gun...?

Goo: see what I mean?

Jake: someone told me not to piss off Daniel. What's he gonna do with his short a— kick me in the knee?

Jake: HEY DANNY!

Daniel: oh hey Seonbae what's up-

Jake: *legit pushes Daniel*

Daniel: ...

...

Eli: I'm back- whoa. What the actual f-ck happened here.

Johan: Daniel is beating up Jake, and is kicking his knee and breaking his ankles.

Samuel: what? Why?

Johan: Jake thought Daniel couldn't do sh-t because of Daniel's height.

Olly: Gun would be proud.

Daniel: GUY'S A BOMB IS ON THE TRAIN!

Goo/Jake: OBAMA'S ON THE TRAIN?!

Daniel: NO A BOMB!

Goo: oh good I f-cking hate Obama but I'm not racist or anything.

Jake: I am(joke)

Zack: I'll fight off bad guys and earn money from it! Then I'll become FILTHY RICH HAHAHAH-

Daniel:(you know... It's kind of sad how I'm living most of his life for him...)

Jace: so what's this game about?

Vasco: is about an assistant detective who works as a Gumshoe to help Zack Lee solve a case.

Eli: why Zack Lee?

Vasco: I do not know.

Jace & Daniel: (so it's a fantasy game)

10.

Gun: IM BRINGING. YOU WITH ME. TO GO OUT. SHOPPING. FOR FOOD. *Olly is in trouble but we don't know what trouble*

Olly: I'm not hungry anymore! I have Cupcakes hidden under my bed!*Olly sleeps on the floor in Gun's house, on the floor with Samuel, so where the hell is he hiding his cupcakes.*

11.

Daniel: ALL WOMEN ARE QUEENS!

Olly: IF SHE BREATHES. SHE THOOOOOOO-

12.

Jay: ...(in every family there's the older brother, who has problems but won't talk about it.)

Kitae: hi...!

Jay: ... (The girl who's desperate for a boyfriend)

Joy: HELLO!!! HI!!!

Jay: ... (And the gay Mysterious awkward socially isolated member of the family)

Jay: ... (Oh wait that's me.)

13.

Eugene: STOP LEACHING OFF MY MONEY!

Beakgyeol: (you were broke until I came...)

14.

Samuel: ALL I KNOW IS THAT YOU CAN BE ANNOYING SOMETIMES!!! sigh... I'll be in the dinning room.

Jake: WAIT!

Daniel: (there they go again...)

Johan: I think they broke up... *Whispering*

15.

Gun: which is fine because you're a thief anyways, first peoples limbs and now a stupid video game.

Dg: ...!?

16.

Random woman working as a hotel register: here you go sir. When you leave please return this back to me.

*room number 96*

Johan: huh. It's almost my favorite number.

17.

Goo: so do you have anything?

Jake: if I had I wouldn't be the one calling you! So sadly I legit have no clue on how to help take down the 1st affiliate.

Goo: no. You must have something.

Jake: haah...??????

Goo: and you're taking it to me. *Has a voice recorder out,*

Jake: what are you saying-

"WHAT THE HELL DO YA THINK YA DOING TO MY SAMUEL!"

Jake: ... YOU PROMISED TO DELETE THAT!

Goo: *professional blackmailing b-tch*

18.

Crystal: DG! Look at this mess! No wonder you haven't gotten any work done! This place is like a pigs Isle!

19.

Gun: that was some good coffee baby! I'd get another but I'm too damn lazy.

20.

Daniel: I'm going to search what Slay means.

Daniel: *saw the meaning of slay* WUHA, I PROMISE YOU ALL I DO NOT SLAY.

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