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#something something choosing to actively care every single day forever
esteemed-excellency · 5 months
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I was talking about Hiram and the Deviless and soullessness today, and the thing that makes it all so compelling to me is:
There is a void inside you that can never be filled. A part of you will always be missing no matter how much you don't care about it. But what if one day you actively chose to care about someone and that's what ultimately saves you.
What if the person you chose to care about the most was the one who took away your ability to care in the first place? What if you were already caring about them, and you had to choose to care again, knowing that you could never do it in the same manner as before? Would you even care this much if that old part of you was still in place? Was that feeling so different from the active choice you make day after day after day?
Much to think about.
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the-song-of-avernus · 3 months
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I feel sorry for Orin
repurposed from an old Reddit post of mine
Raised from birth in the Bhaal cult and has never known ANYTHING else. Literally the result of incest between her mom and Sarevok (her father AND grandfather) - and for her entire life is actively manipulated and groomed to worship her "Grandfather" second only to Bhaal (leaving a disgusting implication that Sarevok might eventually try again). Literally every single day of her life spent in a murder cult, never knowing anything else.
Her mother is actively manipulated when Orin is seven to try to kill her daughter, only for Orin to reflexively kill her first, at which point Orin was briefly possessed by Bhaal himself (per some Sarevok dialogue). AT AGE SEVEN. And even from a young age, Orin's true gift is her artistry, a talent that outside the Bhaal cult probably could have been nurtured into something phenominal, but inside the cult is twisted into a sinisterness in the kill that, when she's out of earshot is decried as wasteful.
She eventually rises through the ranks (never have had any choice), having never felt a meaningful moment of compassion or kindness and, desperate to be cared about, sees the power and fear and respect her bloodkin (The Dark Urge) has gained and uses their hubris to take them out.
Ironically, in the timeline where Durge lives, they get a gift Orin couldn't even dream of - a 2nd chance. With their brain scrambled and the tadpole present but being interfered with, the Dark Urge got a chance to be someone new. (Whether they accept or reject that 2nd chance, they at least got a choice this time).
What did Orin get for her troubles? Her (grand)father openly coveted to either take her out, or worse, take her out - when the time was right, her own allies both detested her (Gortash openly revels at the idea of working with the Dark Urge again)
and most brutally, if you manage to confront her with the truth, any of it? About Sarevok, about her mother, etc? She immediately believes you. And for one (1) moment, maybe there's hope for her.
Hope that Bhaal immediately rips away; an Orin confronted with the truth and showing even the slightest hesitation is immediately forcibly transformed into the Slayer by Bhaal himself, with a strong implication that the core of the old Orin is gone forever win, lose, or draw. "No more doubts, no more fears, no more Orin. Become murder.". Seeing what Bhaal's reaction was the moment Orin had one (1) instant of hesitation also confirms that she'd likely have never had the chance to choose differently, either Bhaal would always step in or else she'd eventually meet her end.
Imagine the AU where Orin takes her CLEAR flair and artistic talent to become a truly great artist. Where she gets the same second chance that Durge got - If she'd been able to use her talent for impersonation and desire to great to do something powerful instead of being forced by her family from childhood into the family business of murder.
She literally never had a chance. Even Bane and Myrkul and their respective cults were never so unfathomably cruel, and she never knew anything else.
At least for my own first game, though, my Durge recognized that without her "sister," she'd have never gotten the chance to save the world, never met Shadowheart, never stopped a century worth of Ketheric's torture on Dame Aylin, never set in motion the liberation of the Githyanki...In the right world states, Orin unwittingly saved the world, but it's a world she'll never get to see or know, and probably never could have.
That's tragic as hell.
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I Ken this is like beating a dead horse but like. It’s genuinely impressive how UrbanSpook is like the prime example of what NOT to do as an artist/creator. (If your a fan of Urban then I suggest you don’t read past this point. I honestly don’t care enough to get into an argument over this guy)
Exploiting pretty heavy subject matter as nothing but shock value already doesn’t put Urban in a good light but his behaviour online is what really fucks him over in the end.
Like at some level I understand. If the stuff I was making was getting shit on left and right I would be pretty upset too. There is some genuine effort in ‘The Painter’ and I do feel that effort should be acknowledged. However, there’s a right and wrong way to respond to criticism, and Urban keeps choosing the wrong way every single time.
Flying into hissy fits and calling people who don’t like your boring at best PowerPoint presentations for pretty understandable reasons ‘pussies’ isn’t going to make people respect you as an artist or person for that matter. Neither is acting like an rambunctious twat or actively trying to start shit up with other horror creators because your that petty about pointless twitter ‘drama’.
Regardless if he’s just ‘trolling’ or not, UrbanSpook has been so dedicated to being this complete edge lord douche bag that he’s pretty much ruined any chances about being taken seriously as an artist again. His admittedly cool artwork will now forever be seen in a negative light and any further works he makes will also be seen in said negative light. I honestly kind of pity him if I’m being honest. A lot of the shit he pulls comes off as more pathetic than he intends.
The ironic part is that if Urban just didn’t say anything about that Pastra tweet and just swallowed his pride for the day, I think he and his series would be a lot more well received and respected. But at the end of the day, a creator has a lot of responsibility on how they act and how they influence their fanbase. I have genuinely never seen a fanbase so small yet so vile as UrbanSpook’s.
This post isn’t some call to justice and a lot of what that can be said about UrbanSpook can be said about most other online creators if I’m being honest. It just something that’s been on my mind recently.
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little-svt · 1 year
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GENDERNEUTRAL | FLUFF | BLANK LITTLE!SVT
Wc: 1.1k+
Taglist: @pastel-princess-please @kiki-woo @fishsquishh
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What is Love?
Time couldn’t move fast enough. You knew the time that your boyfriend of eight months would be off work. Though the frequency of his updates shrank over the course of your relationship, both of you settling into a comfortable post-honeymoon phase, you could still imagine exactly where he was and what he might be doing as he finished work.
About now, he’d be in the elevator, finally leaving for the day. It felt as though it’d been hours since you’d sat on the sofa, ready for your Valentine's Day evening activities that you’d spent weeks planning just for the two of you. No, just for him, the light of your life.
And he felt the exact same way as he shifted his weight, checking his watch for the third time since he’d entered the elevator. The day could not go by fast enough. But it would be worth it. Soon, he’d see your smiling face again and find his way into your arms. There was no way he could thank you enough for how special you continued to make him feel, every single day, no matter how hard he tried. The romance, even through the rough patches and ‘boring’ day-to-day, never dipped, never disappeared.
The same stood true come Valentine's Day morning, he was gently coaxed awake by the increasing aroma of food with enough time to comfortably get ready for work.
“This is so cheesy…”, he giggled softly, almost unable to dig into the breakfast you’d worked so hard on for him.
“My love for you could never be too cheesy. I think it could use more cheese”, you grinned, reaching across the table to feed him a piece of fruit.
“I do like cheese.”, he chuckled, accepting the fate of the heart-shaped meal you’d laid out in front of him.
“Oh! I almost forgot-”, you hopped from your chair, fetching something from the counter and placing it behind your back, “- for you.”
Slowly, but not slowly enough for him to prepare his heart, you revealed a single pink hydrangea stem wrapped in white paper.
“It took me a while to choose. Each flower, each color having a different meaning…”, you stood there, thinking you had been with him far too long for something like this to make you nervous, yet your little explanation seemed to embarrass the hell out of you, “... I didn’t want to get a rose. Roses represent passion and romance-”
Immediately your eyes shot wide, feeling you’d said something stupid, but he only listened genuinely as you choked on your words.
“- not to say I don't feel love or passion. I passionately love you.”, your rambling made him giggle, giving you confidence enough to get back on topic, “I wanted something special. Pink Hydrangeas. For sincerity, love, and romance.”
“I like this one much better than roses.”, his lips were curved up just slightly at the corners but his eyes, almost glistened, glued to the flower as he took it in his hands, forgetting about breakfast completely.
Before you, he was never really on the receiving end, always the one to spoil his lover, not expecting or needing anything in return. But with you, from the beginning, it was a different story entirely. You helped him find a part of himself he never knew was there. The need to feel cared for, safe, loved, vulnerable, protected. This one flower seemed to blow his gifts for you out of the water.
“Baby… you didn’t have to get me something this expensive!”, you gushed, “This feels like pure gold compared to a measly little flower.”
“No! I like my flower.”, he smiled to himself, twirling it slowly in his hand before you took it to place in a small vase of water.
“Do you think we could press it instead?”, he asked, feeling the urge to avert his eyes, his question blushing his cheeks. He wanted to keep it forever.
“Of course.”, you smiled, “Why don’t we keep it in water for a few days, just to look at, and we can do it on your day off?”
Both of you sat down for breakfast again, teasing one another across the small table until it was inevitably time for him to get ready for work.
The work day seemed to pass by slowly yet in an instant as he thought about his flower, so lovely, waiting for him in it’s pretty glass vase at home with all it’s little blossoms. Just like you. He couldn’t wait to be back home with both.
Getting less work done than he’d like to admit, he could finally shut off his computer and head home for the evening, knowing you had a whole night planned for the two of you. How he was going to make it, seeing your smile and feeling your touch when he’d been teetering all damned day because of that flower was a hopeless question. But he’d do it for you.
“You smell good.”, he giggled as you fixed his hair in front of the mirror. Though he probably could have managed on his own, it was the perfect way to stay as close as possible while getting ready for the night.
“Thank you, baby.”, you smiled, lowering your hands to his chest and admiring your work. Your unwavering, admiring gaze warmed his cheeks and made him turn his head. Something you recognized immediately
“Ahh! Are you feeling shy, my little prince?”, you fluffed at his hair affectionately but not enough to ruin your handiwork.
“(Caregiver Nickname)~”, he whined, knowing what you were up to. He wouldn’t make it with your teasing, being exactly why you continued.
“It’s okay, honey. It’ll just be us tonight. And how could you ask me to resist when you’re acting so cute in front of me like this?”, you guided his face back to look at you, leaving a light kiss on his cheek, “Is this really all because of that flower? How will you ever make it through the night I’ve planned for us?”
Both of you knew the answer, simply, he wouldn’t.
“You’re still my big boy even if you let me care for you, handsome boy.”, you pressed your lips together in a line, your hands resting on both of his cheeks, feeling him give himself to you entirely.
With a nod between your palms, he nuzzled against your hand, letting you pamper him and finish readying him for your evening out. It was impossible to get used to, how deeply you’d care for him, no matter how time passed. He was always in the palm of your hand.
“I’m gonna show every couple out tonight exactly how much I love my handsome little prince.”
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🧸Endnote: I may be projecting the babygirl line: Jeonghan, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Minghao ya know 🤭💗. I wanted to trying blank fics bc I don’t have time or energy to always do ot13 and I want to be able to make more people happy. Honestly I can say this may not fit every member since they do all have diverse personalities. But I tried to make it cute <3 HAPPY BDAY CARATS AND HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!! ~ 🐶🐰🍓
🧸Masterlist🧸
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stylishclutchbag · 10 months
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Make Rakhi Special with Thoughtful Gifts: Top Picks for Your Sister
Raksha Bandhan, the festival that celebrates the special bond between brothers and sisters, is just around the corner. It's that time of the year when sisters tie colorful threads, known as Rakhis, on their brothers' wrists, symbolizing their love and protection. In return, brothers shower their sisters with heartfelt gifts as a token of their affection. If you're on the lookout for the best gift on Raksha Bandhan for sister, something that truly reflects your appreciation for her, then you're in the right place. We've curated a list of thoughtful and creative gift ideas that will make this Rakhi truly memorable.
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Personalized Treasures to Cherish Forever
When it comes to expressing your love and making your sister feel truly special, personalized gifts are an excellent choice. These unique presents show that you've put thought into selecting something that's exclusively hers. A custom-made piece of jewelry, such as a pendant engraved with a cherished memory, is a fantastic idea for a best gift on Raksha Bandhan for sister. This piece will not only adorn her but will also remind her of your unbreakable bond.
Unleash Her Creativity with DIY Kits
If your sister has a creative streak, consider gifting her a DIY craft or art kit. These kits not only allow her to indulge in her creative passions but also provide a way for her to unwind and destress. Whether it's a painting set, a candle-making kit, or even a pottery workshop, she'll appreciate the effort you've taken to support her interests. This Rakhi, empower your sister to explore her artistic side with a thoughtful and inspiring gift.
The Gift of Time: Plan a Day Together
In our busy lives, quality time often becomes a precious commodity. This Raksha Bandhan, give your sister the gift of your time and undivided attention. Plan a day filled with activities that you both enjoy. It could be a picnic in the park, a movie marathon of her favorite films, or a spa day at home. The key is to tailor the day to her preferences and create lasting memories together. Remember, sometimes the best gift you can give is the gift of your presence.
Tech Gadgets for the Modern Sister
If your sister is someone who loves all things tech, why not surprise her with the latest gadget that she's been eyeing? Whether it's a new pair of wireless earbuds, a fitness tracker, or a smart home device, these tech-savvy gifts are sure to make her day. Not only will she appreciate the thought you've put into understanding her interests, but she'll also enjoy the practicality and convenience these gadgets bring to her daily life.
Nostalgic Journeys through Photo Gifts
Memories are precious, and what better way to celebrate your shared history than through photo gifts? Compile a scrapbook filled with pictures that capture your cherished moments together. Alternatively, you could create a personalized calendar featuring images from each month of the year, reminding her of your bond every single day. These gifts not only invoke nostalgia but also showcase the depth of your relationship.
A Gesture of Health and Wellness
Show your love and care for your sister's well-being by gifting her something that promotes health and relaxation. A yoga mat and a set of calming essential oils could be a great idea, especially if she's been looking to de-stress and focus on self-care. Your thoughtful gesture will not only contribute to her physical health but also convey your heartfelt concern for her overall happiness.
Choose Thoughtfully, Celebrate Joyfully
As Raksha Bandhan approaches, take the opportunity to show your sister just how much she means to you. The best gift on Raksha Bandhan for sister is one that is chosen with love and care, reflecting the unique connection you share. Whether it's a personalized treasure, a day of quality time, a tech gadget, or something else entirely, the thought you put into your gift will undoubtedly make this festival an unforgettable one for both of you. Celebrate joyfully, and let your gift be a testament to the beautiful bond you cherish.
Must Read : Surprise Your Sister on Rakhi: Trending Gift Ideas She'll Treasure Forever!
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playeatsleep · 10 months
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You know, I've been thinking a lot lately about love and how I perceive it. To me, love is more than just a fleeting emotion. I actually view it as a choice, rather than something that we simply feel all the time. It's like happiness or sadness, you know? They come and go just like any other emotion.
I believe that being in love isn't a fixed state, but rather an ongoing decision that we make every single day. And let me tell you, it's not always an easy one. Choosing to love someone consistently takes real effort and commitment. It's about making that same decision to be there for someone, to support them, and to care for them day after day.
The thing is, if love was purely an emotion, it would be a breeze. We could ride the wave of those warm, fuzzy feelings forever. But the reality is that love requires us to actively choose to love another person, just as they choose to love us. It's a two-way street, full of ups and downs.
So yeah, love is hard. It's challenging to wake up every morning and consciously decide to love someone, especially during those moments when everything seems to be falling apart. But you know what? That's what makes love so powerful and worthwhile in the end.
At the end of the day, love is a choice. We choose to love someone because we see their worth, we appreciate their presence in our lives, and we genuinely care about their happiness. And when two people make that choice together, it's a beautiful thing.
Anyway, that's just my perspective on the matter. What do you think? Do you share the same view, or do you see love differently?
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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years
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The More Loving One
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Summary: Professor Reid finds himself falling for a student. 
A/N: This fic is based on this request. I changed a few things up, but I hope you like the finished product!
Long time, no see! It seems like forever since I got to sit down and just enjoy writing something. And enjoy this, I did. I approached this one a bit differently than I usually do, but I like how it turned out none the less. I hope you all enjoy my take on the Professor Reid arc. The first poem I use in this fic is titled The More Loving One by W.H. Auden, and the second is from a collection of Perry poetry.
Also, I recently hit 2k followers, which is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t even begin to explain how thankful I am for each and every one of you. This fic is my love letter to you. Thank you all so much. 
Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content Warnings: a few swear words maybe?, teacher x student relationship, age gap, exhibitionism (sorta?), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex
Word Count: 4k
           For as long as Spencer can remember, he’s always had a predilection for the finer things in life.
           Spencer attributes the origin of his preferences to his upbringing. In his childhood, before his mother’s disease got the better of her, she exposed him to all sorts of literature. While he ventured to read all types of writings, he’d always been partial to tales of extravagance. A young Spencer Reid sought refuge in the profligacy of it all, as it was so starkly different from his own reality. Forced to bear the burden of household and a sick mother from an early age, Spencer’s own life left little room for reckless indulgence.
           Now, as a single adult male, Spencer makes it a point to give himself up to the finer things as often as he can. Spencer isn’t a rich man, nor is he careless with what hard-earned money he does have. He simply likes to treat himself to the occasional five-star meal, and even more frequently, posh clothing and rare books. Walls lined with hundreds of antiquarian novels and a closet full of Comme Des Garçon cardigans are where the indulgence ends, however, and until recently Spencer was content with this.
           But when she strolls into his life on the very first day of his teaching career, Spencer knows that his small luxuries will no longer be enough to keep him satisfied. The part of him that longs to have only the very best roars to life as he takes in every perfect inch of her. She stands before him, the embodiment of divinity and grace, looking like every fantasy he only dares to conjure up in the late hours of the night. A litany of cliches from every piece of romantic literature he’s ever read spring to the forefront of his mind in the instant that her eyes met his, but there is nothing stereotypical about the way her gaze banishes the air from his lungs. It is as jarring as it is intoxicating. He never wants to look away.
           Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same. With a light flush of her cheeks, she turns away from him, and in an equally unfortunate turn of events, she proceeds to shuffle down the aisle and into the second row of seats to the right of the podium. The realization that washes over him feels like ice water in his veins.
           She’s a student. Worse even – she’s his student.
           Spencer wrenches his gaze from her as if he’s been burned, and the fiery shame of his embarrassment makes him tug at his collar. As he struggles to stave away the lingering heat in his chest and even more embarrassingly, the tightness in his trousers, Spencer chastises himself. His own carnal urges often go ignored, a fact that is glaringly obvious as he cowers behind his podium in an attempt to hide his arousal. He feels more than a little bit pathetic. No self-respecting thirty-five-year-old man gets hard just from gazing upon a beautiful young woman.
           When Spencer pulls himself together enough to start his lecture, he positively forbids himself to look her way. It is hard to fight the urge, but every time he catches his eyes wandering to her, he reminds himself that she is an indulgence he simply cannot partake in. No matter how badly he wants to.
--
           It doesn’t take long for her to notice him noticing her.
           In the early days of the semester, she manages to convince herself that the stolen glances are but a figment of her overactive imagination. That, or an unhealthy dose of wishful thinking. But as the semester stretches on and the professor’s eyes linger more and more, wishful thinking gives way to a startling realization that she isn’t alone in her attraction. Professor Reid is, to her complete and utter astonishment, just as taken with her as she is with him.
           This is all but confirmed when a slight brushing of the hands during an exchange of papers leaves them both with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. Both of their heads snap up, two sets of eyes meeting in a prolonged stare that results in an understanding of sorts. It’s mutual, this thing blossoming between them. She can see her own hopes reflected in two velvet pools of brown – can see the longing, the desire that burns within them. Her heart soars, as she imagines his does, and she accepts the papers with a smile.
           She also imagines that, if he could, he would tell her to wait for him. He would tell her that, for now, their relationship must stay strictly professional.
           This doesn’t stop them from sating their cravings in other ways.
           She makes it a point to stop by during office hours at least twice a week. Her visits always fall under the guise of her studies, but within minutes their hushed conversations stray from the professional and towards a more personal nature. She learns of Spencer’s mother and her condition, of his unusual job and his coworkers that were more like family. In return, she tells him about her upbringing in southern California, as well as her dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist. They never go as far as to discuss what will happen when the semester comes to a close. It is an unspoken agreement that the end of the semester will find them in each other’s arms. All they have to do is wait.
           Spencer can’t voice his affections with words, but he more than makes up for this with his actions. Without fail, every Monday following the very first clandestine brushing of hands, lavish bouquets of flowers arrive at her workplace. Each bouquet is always paired with a notecard inscribed with a brief explanation of the meaning behind that week’s flower of choice. Cherry blossoms to pay homage to her beauty, plumeria to symbolize their new beginning, agrimony to convey his thankfulness that she is willing to wait for him.
           Her favorite bouquet arrives four weeks before the end of the semester. As she steps through the doors of the bakery, a vase full of nine red roses sits atop the counter. The sight of them nearly takes her breath away. She pauses for a moment and runs her fingertips across the velveteen petals before plucking the notecard from its place.
           This week, Spencer chooses to forgo the explanation in favor of a messily scrawled poem;
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
that, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
we have to dread from man or beast.
How should we like it were stars to burn 
with a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
let the more loving one be me. 
           That evening, Spencer receives his first bouquet from her. On his desk sits an arrangement of pale pink ambrosia.
           The meaning isn’t lost on him, but if it were, the note that sits next to the vase makes her intentions clear.
We never had to force love.
We were drowning in it from the moment we met.
--
           Spencer is horribly frustrated.
           A mere twenty feet away from where he stands, the notoriously garish and wholly unprofessional PhD program director is gesticulating wildly to the young woman that stands trapped between him and the hors d’oeuvre table. To find Professor Van Wesep in such a position is not uncommon, due to his penchant for trying to charm (terrorize) the prospective female doctoral candidates. The man is practically a walking harassment complaint waiting to happen. Spencer would abhor Van Wesep even if he weren’t the only thing standing in the way of him and his lover.
           At long last, the semester has drawn to a close. The lonely nights spent longing to hold her in his arms are a thing of the past. By the time the sun rises again, Spencer will no longer have to wonder what her body will feel like pressed against his. He’ll be thoroughly acquainted with every inch of her, and she with him. The thought sends a thrilled chill down his spine.
           The torturous foreplay they’ve been engaging in for the last four months would have surely broken a lesser man. Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted on more than one occasion to have her during one of her frequent visits to his office. Some days, when her visits came later in the evenings, just as the sun began to dip low in the sky, her eyes would glisten in such a way that told Spencer her thoughts were none dissimilar to his own. That glimmer of lust had him holding on to his restraint by the skin of his teeth.
           And here they were, on the last evening of the semester. Final grades had been submitted and were released hours prior. Spencer would have been content to skip this event altogether, in favor of more… recreational activities, but his lover insisted on attending.
           Initially, Spencer assumed her insistence lay in her desire to mingle with her future peers and mentors. Her true intentions come to light when she breezes into the room clad in a pair of sleek, designer pumps. Her lips, painted fire engine red, curl up into a playful smile at the sight of a slack-jawed Spencer Reid. The devious glint in her eye twinkles sinfully in the light.
           Tonight isn’t a social call at all. Tonight, she wants to play with him.
           And play she has.
           From the second she arrives all eyes are fixating on her celestial beauty. Peers and mentors alike trip over themselves in their haste to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment. She works the room flawlessly, leaving a trail of smitten men of all ages in her wake.
           The most smitten is Spencer himself, because he’s the lone recipient of countless heated glances, as well as more than a few knowing smirks. She well aware of what she’s doing to him, and she takes pleasure in watching him squirm.
          Spencer intervenes when Van Wesep makes the ill-advised decision to reach a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. He barely has the time to withdraw his hand before Spencer is upon them.
          “I apologize for the interruption,” Spencer casts a faux apologetic glance at his colleague, before settling his gaze on his target. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I speak to you for a moment?”
           She looks positively gleeful. Perhaps Spencer should have intervened hours ago.
           “Absolutely, Professor Reid.”
           The honorific sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He definitely should have stolen her away earlier.
           The two of them say their goodbyes to a confused Professor Van Wesep, whose imploring eyes follow them as they hurriedly slip from the party and down the hallway.
--
           “Where are we going?”
           Spencer leads her down a long corridor, far beyond earshot of the other guests. Pushing her into a dark corner, he positions her between himself and the cold wooden door of an unoccupied office. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant thrum of the music and the eager pants falling from his lover’s lips.
           Spencer pulls her into a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other finding purchase on her waist. He worries for a moment that he’s being too rough with her, that he should have taken a more careful approach to their first kiss, but she assuages those worries when she kisses him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hand reaches between them and clutches his tie, then she’s pulling him closer and whining wantonly against his lips. Spencer takes this as an invitation to slip his tongue inside and he finds himself letting out a low groan when he tastes a hint of strawberry.
           Spencer pulls away to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
           “Oh, I think I do, Professor,” she laughs, breathless. “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted to do this.”
           Spencer jolts forward when her hand slides down to cup him over his trousers.
           “Could’ve done that a lot earlier if you hadn’t insisted on teasing me for the entire night,” Spencer growls through gritted teeth. He’s more than a little proud of his ability to string together a sentence with her hand working him over with slow, steady strokes.
           He trails a line of kisses across the underside of her jaw, before taking her earlobe and nipping it lightly with his canine. Spencer’s actions are rewarded with a full body shudder. He dips his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat and her hands ball into fists against his dress shirt.
           “Spencer, please.”
           Spencer hums and pulls back to look at her. The hand in her hair lowers, and he trails a thumb across where her nipples are hard against the fabric of her dress.
           “Yes, my love?”
           Her eyes flutter against the weight of her arousal, and Spencer twitches in his pants. The sight of her with her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared on account of him is a heavenly thing. He doesn’t know how he ever deprived himself of such a splendor.
           “I want you. Right now.” She punctuates her words by pulling him down into a frenzied kiss. One of her hands tangles itself in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other busies with tugging his shirt out of his pants.
           “Right now?” Spencer taunts, mouth against mouth. His hand trails down the side of her breast, caressing her rib cage and her hip before stopping at her upper thigh. Spencer’s fingertips toy with the tops of her lace thigh highs. “But anyone could walk by and see us.”
           “I don’t care,” she argues, fumbling clumsily as she struggles to undo his belt buckle.
           Spencer’s wandering hand dips below the hem of her dress to explore the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. She’s soft here, too, he thinks to himself as his hand travels up, up, up. He stops just short of where she wants him most and she lets out a despairing cry.
           “You wouldn’t mind someone walking by and seeing you with your pretty legs spread wide for your professor?”
           Spencer brings life to his words by lifting her leg up, hitching her thigh around his hip and pressing into her. The silk fabric of her dress rustles as he pushes it up and out of the way.
           A breathy moan tumbles from her lips as he rocks against her, dragging his arousal up and down the front of her lace panties. The friction is maddening in that it provides only the smallest bit of relief. It’s not enough for Spencer, and judging by the way she desperately pushes down the fabric of his pants, it’s not enough for his partner, either.
           “Need to get these off now,” she murmurs against Spencer’s mouth. An eager hand tugs at the elastic band of his underwear.
           Spencer places his hand on hers, stilling her movements. “Not so fast, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.”
           Her fingers clamp down on Spencer’s wrist, guiding him to the sodden lace between her thighs.
           “Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she whimpers as Spencer’s fingers take appraisal of the drenched cloth. “In fact, I think four months of foreplay is sufficient enough. Wouldn’t you say?”
           “Maybe so,” Spencer muses, voice muffled as he sucks at the skin of her neck. “But I’m not willing to chance hurting you our first time together. You’re entirely too precious to me.”
           Spencer captures her lips in a kiss so sweet it has her sighing into his mouth. When he pulls away, he fixes her with a smile.
           “You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?”
           Her eyebrows pull together. “No, why?”
           Spencer pulls at the flimsy fabric harshly and it gives way under the force of it. He reaches back to stuff the thong in his back pocket.
           “That’s why.”
           Spencer’s lips come down against hers at the same time his middle and index fingers drag across her slickness. His foresight pays off when his mouth muffles the sound of her cries. As confident he is that they won’t be found, a cry like that would certainly have drawn unwanted attention.
           The swipe of his thumb across her crest paired with the gentle pressure of his fingers dipping into her heat is enough to make her legs buckle. Had it not been for Spencer pressing her against the wall, she surely would have fallen to the ground in a trembling heap.
           “I could get lost in you for hours,” Spencer groans, curling his fingers inside her in such a way that makes her clutch desperately to his shirt.
           “Spencer, oh my God,” she keens. “I need you, please.”
           “You have me, my love,” Spencer whispers the promise against her parted lips. “You’ve had me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
           Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers until the telltale tightening of her heat warns him of her impending climax. He has to bite down on his lower lip to regain his own composure. The feeling of her tight and wet around his fingers is almost too good.
           “Spencer, I’m getting close,” she whimpers.
           Spencer continues until she’s on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, until one more pass of his fingers against her crest would surely seal the deal, and then he’s removing his hand and taking a step back.
           “Spencer, what the fu-,” she pauses when he promptly shoves his pants and underwear just enough to free himself from their painful confines. “Oh.”
           A dazed smile makes its way to her face as Spencer presses himself against her once more. He sweeps her up into a kiss comprised of pure, unadulterated desire, before pulling away and smirking deviously at her.
           “Jump.”
           It takes a moment for her pleasure fogged brain to make sense of the request, but as soon as it does, she complies without question.
           Spencer’s hands grip her thighs firmly and in one swift thrust he sheaths himself into her fully – an indulgence so grand that all others dull in comparison. Now that he’s had the finest, felt it wrapped around him like warm velvet, he can’t imagine a world in which he must live without it.
           “Spencer!”
           Spencer swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound than her crying out his name as their bodies come together for the first time. It’s synonymous with a siren call, he thinks, because in that moment she could lure him to certain death and he knows he would go with a smile.
           His lips seek purchase on the exposed skin of her chest as he buries himself in her paradise again and again. The sharp sting of her heels digging into his back with every thrust brings out a sort of primal urge in him, spurring him to rut up into her like a man possessed.
           “You feel perfect,” Spencer groans out against the flushed skin of her neck. He presses a soft kiss to where her pulse bounds just beneath the skin before pulling away and locking eyes with her. “When I’m old and gray and can remember nothing else, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember how it felt to kiss you for the first time – how it felt to touch you. How it felt to worship you and make love to your body.”
           Spencer’s voices catches, thick and overwhelmed with emotion.
           “I’ll remember how it feels to love you.”
           Her breath catches in her throat and sharp pang of panic burns hot in his chest. Had he misinterpreted her affections? Did she not burn for him in the same way? Perhaps the ambrosia meant nothing. Spencer’s movements falter, and for several torturous seconds he’s nearly paralyzed with fear.
            She silences those fears with a kiss.
           “Oh, Spencer,” she sighs as she presses her forehead against his. “I love you, too. More than you could ever comprehend.”
           Spencer resumes moving in and out of her, but the frenzied feeling from before is replaced with something else now. Something softer, but no less passionate.
           “Yeah?” he inquires, searching her eyes for any trace of insincerity. He finds none, and it’s a relief. Any hint of falseness in her claim would surely lead to a heartbreak he could never recover from.
           “Yes.” The word trails off into a moan. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”
           Spencer’s heart jolts and he whines pathetically against her mouth. “I’m counting on that.”
           “I’m close, Spencer,” she pants, her breath hitting his face in warm puffs. “Don’t think I can last much longer.”
           “Me, too.” Spencer nudges her nose with his own. “Reach between us and touch yourself, my love. I want us to cum together. Can you do that for me?”
           She nods, and the hand that clung to his right shoulder dips in between them to rub tight circles against her crest. Spencer doubles his efforts when he sees her eyelids flutter closed, and the resulting tightening of her core leaves him panting hard.
           “Spencer, I-” her breath catches in her throat as Spencer delivers a particularly strong thrust. Her head falls against his shoulder, her soft moans of his name like heaven to his ears.
           “Cum with me, baby,” Spencer grunts out desperately. He needs it like he needs air to breath and water to drink. And once he has it, he knows he’ll need it again and again.
           She gives it to him with a muffled cry of his name and he’s instantly swept away, drowning in the blissful way her body sings for him. His body follows her lead, shattering completely under her fingertips.
           While he’s been through similar acts with previous partners, those instances always felt impersonal and clinical. The caresses and whispered words were all a means to an end, an end that usually left him feeling lonelier and emptier than when he started. But right now, as he feels the beat of her heart pressed against his own, he swears he couldn’t feel fuller - full of adoration, full of affection, full of love. It’s beautiful and overwhelming and everything Spencer didn’t know he was looking for.
           A raucous round of applause erupts from the direction of the party, startling the two of them. Spencer feels her laugh against his neck.
           “It’s almost as if they were applauding us for a job well done.”
           Spencer presses a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.
           “As they should. That was sensational.”
           Spencer carefully pulls out and lowers her to the floor. He wastes no time in tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Spencer hopes his lips convey his gratitude.
           The two of them pull apart and set to making themselves presentable. Their efforts prove to be in vain when Spencer points out a dark purple love bite nestled into the crook of her neck. She counters this by taking note of the smudge of red lipstick on his collar.
           “What an adulterous pair we make, Professor.”
           Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not your professor anymore.” He bends down and places a kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his.
           “I suppose you’re not,” she muses as they meander down the corridor. “Whatever shall we do now?”
           As the two of them step out of the dark hallway and reenter the party, Spencer smiles to himself. Visions of wedding rings flit through his mind. Spencer supposes he’ll have to take a break from the posh clothing and rare books in favor of saving his money. He’ll buy only the finest ring for his future wife, after all.
           “I have a few ideas.”
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wingsofkpop · 3 years
Text
NSFW Alphabet - Yang Jeongin (m)
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A - Aftercare
Despite being on the more inexperienced side, I think Jeongin is responsible enough to know that aftercare is a must following sex, whether it be making sure you both are properly hydrated or helping you change the bed sheets. Because he’s usually babied by his members, this sweet boy treasures each moment he’s able to take care of you for a change though he won’t say no if you request to be the bigger spoon for a night or two.
B - Body Part
Seeing as our dear maknae has apparently gotten buff somewhere over the years, he likely takes pride in his biceps and arms in general as he damn well should. We’ll go more in depth about it later, but let’s just say Innie likes to use his strength in more ways than one… Moving on, Jeongin will never not be a fan of your neck. Mans has a bit of a marking tendency, but hormones aside, Jeongin’s in love with your scent, which seems to be more pungent around thah area. Plus, the crook of your neck also makes a good hiding place when he’s shy.
C - Cum
The only place this man’s cumming is in a condom. He may not be a baby anymore, but he doesn’t want any other baby Jeongins showing up anytime soon. Changbin is already a handful enough as it is…
D - Dirty Secret
Now it’s a bit out of the element here, but Jeongin sometimes gets tired of being coddled by his members. That being said, he’s had some fantasies about proving his growness—fantasies that may or may not include getting caught eating you out until you’re a literal puddle by Chan or Hyunjin, or maybe fucking you into the wall just in time for Changbin or Seungmin to walk through the door. Not wanting to disrespect you or anything, he prefers to keep these thoughts to himself… just don’t ask questions if he starts to get a little handsy during movie nights with the other boys.
E - Experience
Like most of the younger Stray Kids members, I don’t think he has too much sexual experience. He’s probably made out with a girl or two over the years, maybe felt her up a bit, but that’s as far as his hands-on exploration goes. Even so, he probably has a general idea of how things are supposed to go, generously provided by stories from his members and the wonders of porn.
F - Favorite Position
Due to his lack of sexual practice, Jeongin probably has not found his all-time favorite position just yet. He’s eager to try everything he possibly can, so expect to be blown away literally every time y’all do the do.
G - Goofy
Jeongin doesn’t mind getting a little silly during sex every once and a while, but he also knows that a more sensual, serious mood is needed too. The first few times will definitely be more casual and light-hearted, kept alive by his playful grin and mischevious fingers. But even as you two begin to become more mature, that same youthful atmosphere will remain, making it feel like the first time every time.
H - Hair
He probably just lets it do it’s own thing honestly. As long as it doesn’t get too unruly, he doesn’t mind it all that much.
I - Intimacy
Seeing he’s likely never been in a serious relationship before you, he’s all about the ideal, romantic aspect of love making. And while there won’t necessarily be rose petals and silk sheets every time you guys have sex, he knows how to make you feel loved and wanted with just his touch alone. Eye contact is also a huge must for Jeongin—he needs to see your face in the moment, to watch the pleasure overtake your body as he brings you to a headspace only few have the privilege to witness. It may sound cheesy, but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he has a secret plan to marry you one day, already knowing you’re his forever person.
J - Jack Off
Innie is young, so it’s no surprise his hormones are a bit on the overwhelming side at times. For him, getting off largely depends on if and when he has a moment to himself, which is quite rare between his busy schedule and lack of privacy in the dorm. That being said, he probably masturbates no more than three times a week. If that.
K - Kink
Alright hoes, I’m gonna start this off by saying Jeongin damn well has some sort of strength kink. We’ve all seen the size of those arms. Now he wouldn’t necessarily manhandle you, but if the moment requires him to pick you up by your thighs, or maybe pin your wrists to the bed cause you’re getting a little too frisky, then a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do. He also has a HUGE thing when you get all dressed up for him, whether it be in a dress/suit or a lingerie set. Some other honorable mentions of his include marking, praise, and the occasional teasing.
L - Location
Please, please, PLEASE let this man take you against the wall, or anywhere that lets him show off his strength. He turns into some type of beast, I swear—Bonus points if y’all have the dorm to yourselves, because then he will literally take you against every single surface…
M - Motivation
The second you compliment him, this man will be literal putty in your hands. He loves, and I mean LOVES, when you praise him for his stage performances or MV scenes. And don’t let him catch you watching his fancams… or else prepared to get dicked into next year~
N - NO
BDSM is completely off the table for Jeongin. While he doesn’t mind trying something new every so often, he’s just not comfortable treading into the kind of intense territory that would require use of a safe word. He’s also just not a fan of power dynamics in general.
O - Oral
Sorry fam, oral is just not it for Jeongin. It’s nothing against you, he just doesn’t prefer blow jobs because of his tendency to finish too early, and he’d much rather practice other methods of foreplay to get you both off.
P - Pace
In the beginning stages of your relationship, Innie used to utilize a rapid, sloppy pace. After obtaining more experience, his stroke game is much, much better and more fluid, though he sometimes tends to revert back to an awkward pace when he’s close to climax. But like everyone, his skill and confidence will grow more over time.
Q - Quickie
The only time he’ll settle for a quickie is if he’s completely and totally desperate for your touch. But even then, he needs to be sure your session will take place in an environment that is both private and isolated from any other people. But once he’s comfortable and secure, he’ll drive you into the nearest wall with no further hesitation whatsoever.
R - Risk
Nope, nope, nopity, nope. While the idea of getting caught makes him feel all the things, Jeongin would rather not risk anyone actually walking in on you two when you’re being less than innocent. Especially his members, because if they do, he knows he’ll never hear the end of it.
S - Stamina
He’s got pretty decent stamina. Jeongin can usually go for some foreplay and maybe two rounds depending on how exhausted he is from his schedule. Then again, on days he is a bit more on the tired side, he wouldn’t mind sitting back and letting you do most the work.
T - Toy
The most curious boy omg. Innie’s experience with toys probably stems from porn and the dark side of Reddit, so he’ll be utterly fascinated if you own any nifty gadgets of your own. And while I don’t think he’d actively shop for sex toys, he doesn’t mind spicing things up in the bedroom with a couple vibrators, restraints, or sensation play objects.
U - Unfair
Don’t let his adorable facade fool you—this boy can be the WORST tease on any given day. He’s the type of lover that will suggestively trail his hands across your breasts and thighs, then act all innocent when you call him out. Jeongin is also an expert in getting you to tell him what he wants to hear. For example, “You want me to make you cum, baby? How exactly do you want me to do that?…”
V - Volume
Honestly, this man is a moaning machine. And you may hear some cute little whimpers and whines in that mix too… At first, he was probably a bit bashful to make any noise in that context, but after some coaxing and needed praise from you, he’ll never try to be silent again.
W - Wild Card
Let me set the scene for you: You and Innie watching some horribly budgeted rom-com you found on Netflix, and literally just making fun of the entire movie. That is, until the two main leads start making out in the back of a car. Oh, this shuts you both right up, especially when clothes start coming off and the car windows begin to steam up. The scene ends eventually, but this awkward, sexually tense silence still remains between you and Jeongin, and when you look to your blushing lover, you find him poorly attempting to cover his raging hard on. Then, he clears his throat and cutely stutters, “S-So… You wanna… you know?…”
X - X-ray
He’s a bit below average: 4.5-5 inches. But he’s got some thickness to his name.
Y - Yearning
As already mentioned, Innie tends to hold back in regards to his sexual needs for fear of coming across as a horn dog. You two probably do the nasty at least once a week, but I guarantee you can raise that number if you sit your boyfriend down and explain the concept of a mutually beneficial relationship huehuehue.
Z - ZZZzzz
If there’s one thing that Jeongin loves most in the world, it’s being in your arms after a long and stressful day. Whether or not you choose to end the night with an orgasm or two, he’ll settle himself atop your body, using your breasts as his own personal pillows, and just let his tension melt away in the comforting warmth of your touch. And though he’d never admit it, sometimes he doesn’t really mind being babied after all…
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oopsimbug · 3 years
Text
in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two
a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug
pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader
summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?
warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing
word count: 5.3k
It had been a week.
One gruelling, painfully long week.
Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.
About how he fucked up.
He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.
But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.
But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-
He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.
But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.
That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.
He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“
Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?
*
This is pathetic she thought.
I’m pathetic.
She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.
What am I doing?
The answer?
Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.
But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.
It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.
Wow, she thought.
Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-
Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?
Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.
One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.
“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.
“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.
“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.
But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.
“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.
“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.
Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.
Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.
What is he thinking about?
**
What is she thinking about?
It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?
He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.
It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.
To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.
And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.
***
The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.
It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.
Say something!!
“So…’
Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.
Y/n was choking.
“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.
Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.
“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”
“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.
“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.
What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?
“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.
Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?
“So, are we good?”
“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”
“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.
There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.
“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?
“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him
“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”
Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.
“What does that mean, H?”
He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “
“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?
“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”
Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”
“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”
Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.
Holy fucking shit… he loves me…
While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.
“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”
****
She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.
“Is this okay?”
She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.
“Please,”
She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.
Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.
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nanowrimo · 3 years
Text
5 Tips for Fast Drafting from a New York Times Bestselling Author
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NaNoWriMo is basically an exercise in fast drafting: getting as much of the first draft of the story as you can on the page as quickly as possible. Today, bestselling author J. Elle is here to share some pro tips for fast drafting: My first middle grade novel took me nine days to write. 
The first draft was about 40,000 words or so. And yes, it needed to be revised before it sold to a publisher. But the meat of the story was on the page in just over a week’s time. I’d never drafted anything quite that fast before. Within a single month I’d written an entire novel, revised it a couple times and readied it for sale. A few months later that novel sold at auction and will be on shelves May 2022. 
I still look back on this feat with a bit of shock and awe. To date I’ve sold five novels to major publishers, two young adult, two middle grade and one non fiction and my experience fast drafting has forever altered the way I approach writing. I should mention, fast drafting isn’t for everyone. Writing is such a personal thing and each storyteller has their own process, but in the event getting the first draft out is the biggest hurdle for you, like it is for me, I’m going to share five tips for knocking out that first draft in record time. 
1. Start with a SHORT story pitch.
Pitching a story in a few words is tough. But it’s a worthy effort and the best use of your time before you get any words on the page. Why? Because it helps you hone in on the core of your story and its hook. A good short pitch involves the character, their dilemma, and a hint of the stakes. In October of 2018 I pitched my YA debut novel in a tweet which then blew up. Not many words can fit in a tweet, but by choosing the right set of words, I was able to convey the heart of my story and it really resonated. (From that tweet, I signed with a literary agent and sold my debut novel to a Big 5 publisher in a six-figure-deal.) The biggest favor you can do for yourself is understand the story—its essence, its core—you’re trying to tell before you start drafting. And that’s hard. But the more you play around with creating a short pitch, you’ll begin to see a clear snapshot of what your book is going to be about. That’s your jumping off point. 
2. Expand your pitch into tent pole beats.
From your short pitch, spend some time deciding on what your major beats are. Now, yes this is a bit like outlining. And for you pantsers out there, I empathize with you. I was a pantser and still am in many ways. But I still do this step because this step ultimately saves me time. The beauty of fast drafting is that you know what you need to do when you sit down to type. So a lot of these steps are about doing pre-work so that when you sit down to type you’re not spinning your wheels to figure out what to type. Instead you’ll have a clear goal and you’ll be ready to execute it. Also, note that the goal isn’t to perfect each of these steps, but instead to try to do each step, to the best of your ability, and in a way that makes sense. 
I could write an entire piece on beat sheeting novels (which I love and do for all my books), but for the purposes here, I’ve organized the main things you want to know below in a series of questions. Simply answer each, make a chart if you like that sort of thing, and once you have each question filled out in a way that logically makes sense, move on to the next step. (NOTE: It’s a good idea to get feedback on this step if you have critique partners and fellow writers you trust.)  
Opening Scene - Who is the character before the world changes?
Inciting Incident - What happens that forces them to make a choice, changing their lives forever? What are they choosing between? 
“A” Plot - What is that choice they make? What are they pursuing or working toward? Finding information? Going on a quest? Uncovering the truth behind a murder?
Stakes - What are the stakes of the “A” plot? What’s at risk if they fail to accomplish whatever they’re pursuing? It should be something that personally affects them or someone / something they care about. 
“B” Plot / Character - Who or what is the theme of the story? What character in your story is going to embody that theme and play a key role in helping the main character change?
Midpoint - what happens in the middle of the book to change the character’s direction. Usually it’s some bit of new information or they realize things are not as they seem. 
Stakes Raise - How do the stakes (what’s at risk if they fail) raise after the middle of the book? 
Character Arc - what does your character believe about the world in the beginning of the book that by the book’s end they will no longer believe? (An extension of this question is: what things can happen in this character’s life to facilitate them incrementally learning this big truth? If you don’t know this question right off, that’s okay. But this is a question you want to go back to every now and again, even after you finish the first draft, to ensure your character is actively involved in a plot that is resulting in their change.)
Failure - How will your character fail big? This happens at about the 75% point of the book and it's the final moment of failure, usually, before they pick themselves up off the ground (figuratively or literally) and learn the lesson they’ve needed to learn. There forward they act on their new belief to the end of the book, demonstrating how they’re changed. 
If you’d like a more in depth look at how to beat sheet a novel, I strongly suggest reading Jessica Brody’s Save The Cat Writes A Novel. 
3. Flesh out your beats into a detailed synopsis. 
Now the fun part! This step is the most helpful thing you can do to enable yourself to fast draft. 
Write a mini version of your story, also known as a detailed synopsis. The key to writing synopses is not to worry about the voice, but instead what happens. Try to convey what happens and its impact on the character to show how the story moves from tent pole moment to tent pole moment (per the step above). This takes some trial and error and you may get annoyed with yourself because it’s not as easy as it seems. But, I’ve seen that if you can write a compelling and cohesive synopsis, the draft that you execute will be far stronger and more efficiently executed. 
Definitely get beta feedback on your synopsis from writing friends you trust. It’s worth going over this a few times to get it right. In terms of length, aim for 3-4 pages for a middle grade novel and 5-10 pages for a young adult or adult novel. These are just general guidelines. My latest YA novel required a fifteen page synopsis and I am very glad I did it because it conveys the tone, arc, and plot of the novel and the main plot threads quite well, which allowed me to draft the first 23,000 words of the story in five days. 
4. Summarize each scene. 
(Note: a chapter can have more than one scene.)
Okay, we’re getting really close to writing! Now that you have a mini version of your story, consider how you will break it up into scenes. This doesn't need to be perfect, but spend some time figuring how to stretch your synopsis into a full novel. Give each scene a short summary. Aim for a few sentences, no more than a paragraph, just so you know what needs to happen in that scene (or scenes). Do not skip this step. I repeat, do not skip this step. This step allows you to sit down and execute the scene without figuring out what to write. The “figuring out” part is where a lot of writers slow down. Do that in the summaries so when it’s time to draft you are ready to execute, not sort out details. 
5. Write with a goal in mind.
Plan your writing days. I’m not talking anything extensive here. Just grab your phone calendar or a post-it note and write down which days you want to do which scenes. Then on writing day re-read that summary and execute it. If you’ve done all the pre-work the words will fly from your fingers. Don’t worry about grammar, typos, reading back what you did. Insert fillers such as, “TITLE” or “NAME” for details you haven’t worked out yet. Just get the scene that you’ve summarized out. The goal is to finish the draft. After that is when you make sure it all works together through revisions and fill in the details. Right now the goal is finishing the draft. It literally just needs to exist! 
If you’ve done all five steps, pat yourself on the back because congrats, you’re ready to fast draft! Don’t hesitate to tag me on socials if you try this method out and it works for you. I’d love to hear how it goes!
J.Elle is the New York Times bestselling author of Wings of Ebony. Elle has a Bachelor’s of journalism and an MA in educational administration and human development.  She grew up in Texas, but has lived all over, from coast to coast which she credits as inspiration for her writing. These days the former educator can be found mentoring aspiring authors, binging reality TV, loving on her three littles, or cooking up something true to her Louisiana roots.
Website: WingsOfEbony.com
Twitter: @AuthorJ_Elle
Instagram: @AuthorJ.Elle
TikTok: @authorjelle
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imasimpforshanks · 3 years
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Hello, I just saw the alphabet requests. Could I please get the fluff alphabet with Luffy? Thank you sm!
Fluff Alphabet - Monkey D. Luffy
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a/n: hi hi hi! thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy 💗
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A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)
Luffy is a complete child at heart. He enjoys doing anything and everything! So long as you are there with him, he doesn’t particularly care what it is you are doing – if it’s with you he knows he’ll have the time of his life.
However, if Luffy were to pick something as his favourite activity to do with you, he would choose a water fight (weird considering his vulnerability to water but that doesn’t cross his mind in the moment). Chasing one another around, stomachs aching from laughter, cheeks sore from grinning too much. He’s never had so much fun, and he can’t tell if it’s because of the activity itself, or because it’s with you (ultimately, he decides that it’s both).
B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)
One of the things Luffy admires most about you is your unquenchable thirst for adventure; it’s own that rivals his own. You want to explore, live life freely and on your own terms. In Luffys eyes there is nothing more wonderful than that.
Honestly, Luffy thinks everything about you is beautiful. Every. Single. Thing. Right from the top of your head to the very tips of your toes. But, there is something about your laugh that he just finds so unbelievably intoxicating. When he hears you laugh - so carefree and so happy - his grin grows even wider. He wants nothing more than to hear that laugh for the rest of his life.
C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)
This captain is a lot more emotionally intelligent that people think. He’s very in tune to what people like and dislike and he uses this knowledge to help comfort people. For example, on thriller bark after they find Zoro injured luffy attempts to give him a whole ass barrel of sake because “Zoro likes sake so it’ll make him feel better.” This same logic would apply when he’s trying to comfort you. He’ll find or do something you like because well it’ll make you happy. If food makes you happy, he’ll get you some food. If cuddles make you happy, well then you best be ready to be suffocated.
Another way I can see Luffy comforting you is by trying to make you laugh and smile. When people are laughing and smiling, they’re happy, right? So, by that logic all he’s gotta do is be goofy and then you’ll laugh like you usually do!
D-Dreams (how do they picture they future with their s/o?)
When he becomes the pirate king, you are right there with him. He can’t see himself settling down (by this I mean living in one place permanently). Luffy wants to travel the seas with you forever, going on adventure after adventure after adventure. He hasn’t really thought much about kids or anything like that, but all he has thought about is you and him growing old together.
E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)
Luffy is definitely not the passive one in the relationship, but I also wouldn’t say he’s the dominant one. He’s dependent on you and you’re dependent on him. It’s a relatively equally balanced relationship but it could even be argued that it’s only that way because of how Luffy is. He often just does what he wants when he wants regardless of your opinion. However, he also allows you to do the same. That’s not to say he doesn’t sit back and listen to your concerns if you voice them.
F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)
Fights are a very rare occurrence in your relationship. Luffy isn’t one to maintain an argument for very long often cracking a joke or doing something silly causing you to laugh and break the tension.
On the very rare occasion that you are having a serious fight, Luffy can be extremely stubborn. Once he’s got something in his mind, its hard to make him think otherwise, so more often than not you will have to be the one to apologize if you want to move on from this.
G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)
Luffy is very aware of everything that you do for him, and he absolutely gushes about it to everyone he comes into contact with. He can’t stop talking about you. People who have never met you before suddenly seem to know about every single time you gave up a portion of your dinner to Luffy because he was still hungry but Sanji wouldn’t let him have anymore because dinner was over.
H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)
Luffy is an open book. He cannot keep a secret to save himself. Not even a good secret like a surprise party for you or something, in fact, the crew have to be the ones to plan surprise parties for you on luffys behalf cos he gets too excited and just blurts it out straight away. Basically, if there is something he isn’t telling you the only explanation is that he genuinely forgot. But as soon as you ask him, he’ll tell you - without hesitation.
I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)
Being with Luffy has helped you to be a little more carefree. He has taught you to embrace your youth. What’s the rush in growing up? Why does everything need to be so serious all the time? It’s okay to loosen up, and goof around as long as you are still dependable.
J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)
Luffy does get jealous. But, not in the usual sense. He doesn’t get jealous of other people interacting with you, or with you interacting with other people. He trusts you fully, so there’s no reason for him to be jealous in that front. However, what he does get jealous about is you spending time with others, without him. Luffy gets serious FOMO, so if you’re doing anything and he’s not invited, that is when he gets jealous. This sweetie just wants likes to be included! On the off chance that you are doing something without him and Luffy starts to feel jealous, he will simply insert himself into the conversation or the activity. He does NOT care (LMAO).
K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)
Luffy is a very energetic kisser. There’s no real rhyme or reason to his movements he just smashes his lips against yours. He’s eager and enthusiastic, which can make him a bit sloppy at times, but he doesn’t care.
Your first kiss took you completely by surprise. The two of you were just hanging out then before you knew it, he had kissed you. It happened so quickly they you barely had time to process what happened, but he was just sitting there looking at you while giggling his little heart out.
L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)
When it comes to telling you how he feels, he approaches it as he does everything else; directly. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, rather always speaking his mind and being up front. With you it’s no different. The second he realizes how he feels about you, he’s on his way to tell you. No hesitation, no doubt, just 100% honesty. It doesn’t matter where you are or who might be around, Luffy will tell you in that very moment.
M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)
Marriage isn’t something Luffy has really thought about. The two of you are together constantly, you know you love each other, so why would you need to get married? It’s not that he’s against getting married, it just isn’t something he’s particularly concerned about. Well… that is until he hears the words ‘wedding’ and ‘party’. Once he’s heard that Luffy is set on getting married right then and there (that’s basically his proposal too). Any excuse for a party.
N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)
To be honest, Luffy mostly just uses your name. He likes it because it belongs to you which makes it special. He does like to find out what nicknames you had as a child, he thinks those a pretty fun and makes him feel as though he’s known you for your whole life, so he does also use your childhood nickname/s.
O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)
Luffy gets even more clingy. Clingy may not be the right word, but it’s the best way to describe it. When he’s in love he feels an overwhelming urge to be near you all the time. He craves your presence and your attention so is constantly asking you to play or chat or anything! He really just wants to spend time with you, more so than usual. The whole crew actually picked up on it quite instantly because they noticed the lack of Luffy in their day-to-day schedule. They knew it was more than platonic relationships Luffy had for you when he was five minutes late for lunch because he was too overjoyed by your attention.
P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)
He’s all about showing affection both platonically and romantically. He catches you (and others) so off guard because one moment its silent and the next thing you know you’re hearing “gomu-gomu no…” and being tackled to the ground by a pair of rubbery arms. If Luffy wants to kiss you, he’s going to kiss you. He doesn’t have a care in the world about who may see.
Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that is beneficial in a relationship?)
Can promise you a life full of excitement. You never need to worry about your relationship getting ‘boring’ or ‘being stuck in a rut’ because that will never happen with Luffy. Each day is filled with adventure and something new to experience. There’s a whole world out there that you can experience together.
R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)
Many people wouldn’t expect it, but he is indeed romantic. It’s far from cliché and strays from the typical notions of ‘romance’ but it’s romantic, nonetheless. Luffy is just unapologetically himself. Because of this anything he does for you (even the littlest of actions), you know it’s sincere and comes from the heart. That is what makes Luffy romantic.
S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? do they believe in them?)
Not supporting you in your goals and dreams goes entirely against Luffys character. He truly believes you, and anyone else for that matter, can do whatever they put their minds to. He is your number 1 supporter, actively helping you every step of the way. No one believes in you more than Luffy.
T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)
When you’re with Luffy you don’t need to worry about spicing up your relationship. You will never once experience a boring day. The relationship is constantly filled with new places to go, and new things to see, and you’re fortunate enough to be able to do all of it together.
U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)
Contrary to popular belief, Luffy is very emotionally intelligent (I said this earlier actually). He can read people freakishly well, and his s/o is no different. In fact when it comes to you his emotional intelligence only multiplies.
V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)
As with most of the other relationships (platonic and familial) in his life your relationship is very important to him. For Nico Robin, he declared war on the world government. For Sanji, he went up against a Yonko and her crew. You would be no different. He would go to the ends of the earth (maybe further) for you. It’s just how he is. His relationships and his dream to be pirate king are not mutually exclusive, meaning, he can’t have one without the other.
W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)
Brings you random little knick-knacks, or like a little memento from EVERY SINGLE island you go to. The items range from a pretty shell he saw on the beach to a funky looking figurine he spotted in a market.
X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)
Luffy loves to kiss and cuddle. He’s an extremely affectionate person. He practically clings to you like a koala bear. That physical contact is something he enjoys a lot; it’s really reassuring for him.
Y-Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)
As long as Luffy is distracted and kept busy, he’ll be able to cope. He entertains himself and slowly counts down the days until he can see you. He builds up the excitement and he becomes like a child the night before a school unable to sleep or keep still; he just wants to see you.
Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)
This has been established already. All relationships (platonic, romantic, familial) hold a special place in Luffys life. He declared war on the world government, fought countless fearsome opponents all for the sake his friends (sometimes even people he just met). Your relationship with Luffy would be no different at all. In fact, for you, he would do all of that and much much more.
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the way they loved volleyball
❝ you never loved volleyball. but you loved the two idiots who did. and they loved you the way they loved volleyball. ❞
pairing. miya a. x fem!reader, miya o. x fem!reader 
genre. fluff
word count. 2.3k words
a/n. this came to me when i was thinking of how furudate-sensei described atsumu with the word “love” and how osamu didn’t pursue volleyball. it made me realize how different the twins loved the sport. reblogs are appreciated. 
HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3
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You
Ever since, you and the Miya twins had always been close. Growing up, the boys would try various things, experiment with all sorts of activities and hobbies, and meet different people. As days passed by, as dark brown became gold and gray, as jersey numbers become lower, the boys would grow tired and move on to something or someone else. Out of all these, there were only two things that they would keep loving—volleyball and you. 
People would always look at you longingly and say, “Those two love you the way they love volleyball.” 
In their eyes, they think that it was a competition between them. That you were the prize. 
Or maybe that you were the setter with two spikers wrapped around your finger, waiting to see who you would send the ball to.
They were wrong. They only saw the miraculous sets, the awe-inducing passes, and the breathtaking feints. They never saw the players playing in the match. 
They see one thing and immediately assume another. They see the boys with you and they instantly think that they are both in love with you. 
They didn’t understand. 
Miya Atsumu and Miya Osamu loved the same things. Yet, they loved in different ways. So did you.
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Miya Osamu
Miya Osamu always knew that he loved you. 
He didn’t know when he started to feel this. He didn’t know how. He just knew that he did. It was that simple. 
Just like volleyball, love came naturally to Osamu. Just as he easily could interpret their captain’s hand signals for the next rally, he could understand the minute twitch in your brow and the slight change of pitch in your voice. He knew when you were up for playful banters or when you needed to be alone.
Just like the way he played volleyball, his love was calm, collected, and observant. It was pats on the shoulder after a long hard day. It was extra packed lunches because he knew you would be too busy to buy something from the cafeteria. It was small smiles after hearing an encouraging cheer from you.
Just like his love for volleyball, his love for you was something that he shared with his twin. It was picking up his pace when he noticed his brother gaining a step closer to you. It was searching for better, more animated stories so you would listen to him rather than his brother. It was laughing a bit louder at your jokes so that your final smile would land on him. People often branded him as the better twin, but at the end of the day, as their coach and their captain remarked, he had the same genes as his brother. So, somehow his love for you was slightly competitive. 
It was on Miya Osamu’s second year of high school when the pieces started to reveal themselves. As their coach announced their school’s representative for Japan’s All Youth Training Camp, as he saw his brother’s triumphant arrogant but still earnestly joyful expression, Osamu maintained his placid disposition. Consequently, this was also the same way he felt when you chose his twin over him.
When Atsumu confronted him and told him to get mad and to get jealous at him, Osamu never obliged. Just like the way he felt when wasn’t chosen for the national team, Osamu wasn’t mad that you chose Atsumu. He was more bothered about why he wasn’t bothered. After all, he loved you the way he loved volleyball. If he didn’t care that much about losing to Atsumu in volleyball, then with you…
Huh. He never noticed that before.
Days later were without Atsumu. Osamu observed that it was slightly without you too. His brother always found a way to keep you close. Without him, things were different. 
During the week that Atsumu was away training, everything would make sense to Osamu. The pieces fell into place and he was finally able to see the bigger picture.
Miya Osamu realized that he loved you, but he wasn’t in love with you.
Just like Miya Osamu’s love for volleyball, he knew that if it wasn’t for his brother, Osamu would have never loved you the way he did. Just like his love for volleyball, he will always have a special place in his heart for you. He will always love you. But never too seriously. Never in the grandiose way his brother did. And never enough to stay.
Later on, your name will enter into conversations and warmth will seep through his insides. He will feel fondness and comfort at the idea of you. Osamu will think of you and smile. 
He will remember all your jokes in the gym. He will remember all your cheers in the court. He will remember all your tears after losses. He will cherish those memories. 
Just like volleyball, you will be someone back from high school. And if Atsumu was not around, that is all you will ever be—a memory to recall, a friend and nothing more. 
That is how Miya Osamu loves you. He loves you as a friend. He loves you for the memories. 
At the end of the day, Osamu knew it was right that you didn’t choose him because loving a memory just isn’t the same as loving a person.
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Miya Atsumu
Miya Atsumu fell in love with you the same way he fell in love with volleyball. 
He was playing with all the other kids in the neighborhood (kids Osamu had befriended) and he had badly scraped his knee while attempting to dig a ball (something he wanted to imitate as soon as he watched a professional player do it on TV). You, who heard his cry for pain, immediately ran over to him and did your magic. In no time, you had dusted off his knee and had helped him stand so that you could walk him to your father’s clinic that was nearby.
“It’s going to be okay,” you had told him with a reassuring smile. “I’ll help you cross to the other side.”
Later on, he would learn that you always did this. You always kept an eye on the kids playing across the street, just in case someone needed help. 
Miya Atsumu was young and probably didn’t know what love was, but he knew that he wanted you to be around forever. He would go home, battered and bruised, yet smiling sheepishly, telling his brother and the rest of his family of the girl he had just befriended.
The rest of his family would be surprised, amused, overjoyed, and relieved. Their straightforward hard-to-please Atsumu-kun had just made a friend. The last time his family felt this way was when, after years, Atsumu had finally found resonance with volleyball.
Miya Atsumu fell in love with you the same way he fell in love with volleyball. It was the moment he wanted to dedicate his love to something that was about giving yourself to others.
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Just like volleyball, Miya Atsumu was loud, blunt, and rough. He was merciless. There were times when he sent you home crying with the cruel truth in his words. When he was young there were times when he used his fists, until he was taught that he should never hit other people (though that never stopped him from hitting his brother ever). 
Just like he was with volleyball, he would sometimes revert back to a child. There were moments when he would be so petty and blame his forgetfulness on you. He would take your things and ask for your permission only after having returned them. 
Just like volleyball, loving you would never be easy and natural for him. Through the years, there would be days of silent treatment because he gave you the ticket, he lent you his jersey, he practiced nonstop, all you needed to do was come. But you didn’t, because you had an emergency surgery to perform that couldn’t be postponed. He understood your reason. It would just take him time to accept it. There would be late nights of him banging his head on Onigiri Miya’s countertop, because he said the wrong thing, or he said too much, and you needed space. 
Just like volleyball, he would need to learn how to love you correctly. Atsumu would need time, practice, and sometimes even a beating from his twin brother. He would only be able to hold your hand after days of subtly swinging his arm and bumping into yours by what he claims was an accident. He would overcome the awkwardness the same way he did with his setting, after dozens of tries. He would learn to walk on the sidewalk closer to the road the same way he learned to take a single flawless step before a toss—consciously at first, and after some time, by instinct. He would learn how to hold his tongue only after spending many cold nights walking home from his brother’s restaurant. 
Just like his love for volleyball, Miya Atsumu’s love for you was impulsive and reckless. It was being frozen still while hanging on to dear life on the pipe that stretched from the ground to the side of your window and ended on the roof, a pipe that he used to climb so he could romantically knock on your bedroom window after watching a scene of it in a movie. Apparently, he didn’t think that the second floor would be that high. It was spontaneously telling you he loved you after a game, only for you to ask him to repeat what he said because his confession was similar to the sound of him sneezing. Atsumu’s love for you was impromptu dates and unplanned adventures.
Just like he loved volleyball, he would love you unyieldingly and relentlessly. He will tell you he loved you every day, every time he saw you in the hallway, every time you came to one of his games, every time he saw a kid with scrappy knees. He will always be looking for new ways to show it too. Just when you thought he had done the grandest display of his affections, he would come up with a new and better one. 
Between the moment he raises his arm and closes his fist and from the moment he goes in for the serve, in the silence of those eight seconds, he will be looking at you. Later, when you ask him why he did, he will tell you that years ago, when he was just a nameless stupid kid with a wounded knee, you had raised your arm, closed your fist, and induced quietness from his playmates. Between the moment you did that and the moment that you bent to examine his injury, there was silence. You looked him in the eyes and he found peace and reassurance. Though most of the time, Miya Atsumu lived for the loudness of it all, he gained strength in the tranquil eight seconds after the whistle. More so, when you were watching, he had said. 
Just like his love for volleyball, Miya Atsumu’s love for you is earnest, sincere, and thoughtful, always searching for ways to help support you. Atsumu loves you with all that he has, with every fiber of his being, till the end of his days.
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The Way Their Love Turned Out
At the end of a long day from the hospital, you will stop by Onigiri Miya, a restaurant known not only for the delicious food, but also for the television that played volleyball games all day. 
You will greet the owner of the shop and he will treat you to dinner and chat with you about what you were doing nowadays. You might even talk about all the idiotic things you did back then. 
The two of you will scrutinize the setter on the television who missed his first serve. After a full rotation, he will score five service aces and the two of you will be giving each other high fives and be shouting at the screen. 
After the game, you will give him a friendly smile and thank him for the meal as you walk out the door with a takeout bag. He will return your smile and ask you to come back. 
He was always happy to see an old friend, he will say.
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When you go home to your house full of trophies, medals, signed shirts, and used tickets, you will ready the dining table and put your takeout into microwaveable containers. You will play your favorite Netflix show on the TV and sit on the cold hard floor (not the cozy couch), promising that this time you will definitely not fall asleep.
You will wake up on the bed hours later and you will laugh at yourself, because who were you kidding? 
Though it is dark, you will look at the man beside you who carried you to bed. You will graze your fingers lightly on the contours of his face and you will whisper that you are proud of him and that you love him.
Even if it is silent, you will sense his quiet chuckle. He will press a soft kiss to your forehead, thanking you and telling you that he loves you. He will thank you for the takeout and scold you for sleeping on the floor.
For better or for worse, you will say.
He will laugh. Loudly this time. 
He will hold you closer, tucking your head under his chin. 
I’m glad I married you, he will say.
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At the end of the day, Miya Atsumu and Miya Osamu loved the same things. Yet, they loved in different ways. 
So did you.
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HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3
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First of all, I would like to thank DAYS for coming into my life like a miracle. I was in a slump after giving birth 2 years ago, and my life has changed since. I no longer find what I did before as fun or amusing. I no longer read novels, I no longer follows any kdrama: be it ongoing or binge watch. The only drama I watch in its entirety was CLOY, even that I binge watched, not following week by week.
And then DAYS come, I fell behind 1 week or 2, but I catch up and my goodness, I slipped back into my old routine: fangirling. Active again on tumblr. I have never felt so alive and free again, it's been so long. And I love it. I love how it makes me feel.
Second, this drama brings so much lesson about fate, destiny, life and death, beginning and ending, love, family, friends, lovers, moving on, letting go, being yourself, putting yourself first, surround yourself with people who really love and care about you, choosing your own way. And mainly, acceptance. Accepting what's inevitable. Accepting what's coming your way and cannot be changed. Accepting that sometimes, some things are meant to be, no matter how hurtful it might be, everything happens for a reason. And I'm trying to put those lessons into my life slowly, because I'm an anxiety mess. And my life is a mess. And I need to take back control of my life.
Third, I would very much like to say thank you to the cast, crew, staff, writer of DAYS for giving us such amazing drama with unforgettable story, characters, OST, and lessons (damn those quotes I lost counts but I love every single one of it). Nothing is perfect because it was all human made, but it's beautiful nonetheless. And I am forever thankful. DAYS is now my most favorite drama.
Fourth, thank you to DAYS fandom wherever you are. You people are amazing. I can't stop reading your thoughts, analysis, theories, and find it amusing and amazed because somehow we filled each other with more and more lessons as we connect them with our personal lives. I loved every single one of it. Thank you also for beautiful wallpapers, gifs, screenshots, quotes, links, videos, etc. It's always nice to know that wherever we are, we are not completely alone. I love you all, DAYS tumblr fandom!
When there is beginning, there is ending, for everything needs to end so we can start anew. This story might end, but the memories won't. And I think for several weeks ahead I still gonna reblog or post something when I missed DAYS. To look back from time to time ;)
I'll rewatch it again with a heap of towel and gallons of water by my side :)
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THANK YOU! I LOVE YOU ALL 👋
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Nagito, Sakura, Celestia and Toko reacting to receiving flower crowns from s/o
“Hi Mod Celeste! I saw requests were open and I was wondering if i could request a fluff headcanon of Nagito, Sakura, Celestia, and Toko reacting to shy ultimate gardener S/O giving them flower crowns?“ -Requester
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Pairing: Nagito, Sakura, Celestia, Toko x Gender Neutral!s/o
Warnings: None
Length: 815 words
Requests: Open
Author’s Note: This was requested, but through a different format. I’m very sorry I haven’t been active for so long, a lot has been happening in my life recently. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! ((also,, I’m currently in the middle of updating the blog’s theme, so I apologize if it looks a little mismatched for a while!)) ~Mod Celeste
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Nagito Komaeda
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He would die
Congratulations, you have completely broken a perfectly good Nagito
Just kidding, of course, but still
He’d probably cry, if I’m being completely honest
Just watching you walk up to him with the flower crown in your hands, and just- gently placing it on his head
And then he just- completely stops functioning
Knowing him, he’d probably reject it at first, insisting that he isn’t worthy of your efforts, and that you should give it to someone else instead
Also because he thinks you’d be embarrassed if he wore it in public
Because you know how he is
But then he’d probably feel like he offended you, and he’d (reluctantly, but not really) take it
And he’d cherish it forever
He’d wear it 24/7
He just wouldn’t take it off
Even when the flowers are all dead, he’d still keep it
He wouldn’t dare throw it away
He’d secretly want you to make more for him, but he’d be too scared to actually ask you to
Because, y’know,, it’s Nagito.
But if you still did make more for him, he’d die all over again
The exact same reaction as before but ten times more happy
He’d definitely try to repay you in some way
Not that he doesn’t try to make you happy every day, but still
He would probably attempt to make you a couple as well
But then he’d get super into it and end up having way too much fun
And he’d make 25
And then he’d just- shower you in flower crowns
Which is like- the purest thing ever
And then it’d just become this endless cycle of exchanging flower crowns
You now have a new flower crown exchanging buddy
Enjoy :)
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Sakura Ogami
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She probably wouldn’t know how to react
She wouldn’t really know what to do with it, as she’s never actually received a flower crown from anyone before
So you’d have to explain that it’s for her to wear
Or just- place it on her head
She’d be confused, of course, but it’s not like she’d remove it or anything
If you were to just kind of- put it there while she was sitting down or something, she’d just look at you like “...?”
But once she sees your shy smile, her heart would actually explode
She doesn’t even care what you put on her head at this point
Once all the petals have either fallen off or died (yes, she collected all the petals that fell off), she’d probably save them in a jar or something
She doesn’t really plan on doing anything with them, but still
She doesn’t want to throw them away
She’d probably end up asking you for another one
She likes the way they look, and the fact that you made them makes it even better!
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Celestia Ludenberg
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She’d probably try to act unphased, but she’d barely even manage to do that
She loves you so much-
She thinks that your shyness is adorable
She’d display the flower crown like it was a trophy, and she’d show it off to everyone
I feel like she’d definitely brag about it to people
Like, “Oh, this? Yes, my s/o made it for me. So sorry, I guess not everyone can be as lucky as I.”
She’d be so smug about it
She’ll probably ask you to make her one like- every other day
It’d become part of her outfits
Unless you weren’t comfortable with it, then she wouldn’t force you or anything
She’d never tell anyone this, but she actually keeps all of the flower crowns you make her
Every single one
She has a display room for them
She would also request a couple for her cat
Even if he acts like he hates them, he secretly loves wearing them
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Toko Fukawa
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Toko’s another one who would act like she doesn’t really care, but she’d love it so much
She’d probably be scared to wear them too much, worried that she’d end up damaging them
But she’d still end up doing it anyway
She would also be nervous about embarrassing you, so she’d be very reluctant to wear them around people
Even after you reassured her that you didn’t mind at all, and that you made them for her for a reason, she still wouldn’t be convinced
At the same time, though, she would love wearing them because it made her feel loved
She’d hold onto them forever, placing them near her writing space because they give her inspiration
She’ll go through them and choose whichever one inspires her the most, and then she’ll write whatever comes to her mind
It also helps her to think of the source of the flower crowns themselves; you.
You are literally her biggest inspiration, and you help her the most when she gets a writing block mid-story
The crowns are just a bonus
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becaeffinmitchell · 3 years
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Fic: what i have (is who i carry home) (1/1)
Summary: Chloe, as it turns out, loves Valentine's Day.
Of course she does. Beca can't say she's surprised in the least.
aka, five Valentine's Days Beca Mitchell's had.
Note: After ten thousand years, I’m free! Or, you know, after eight years, I’m finally posting my first Bechloe fic. Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone 🥰  Gif credit goes entirely to @evenstars​ (thank you so much again!)
Words: 4,954
Read below or on AO3!
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i. 2012, Freshman Year, Barden University
There are so many other things Beca would rather be doing.
Like go to the dentist. Actually show up for class. Spend time over dinner with her dad and the step-monster.
Okay, maybe not that last one. Nothing in the world would make her choose that.
But here she is, in that stupid red hoodie, holding that stupid bow and arrow, standing in front of people, refusing to sing that stupid song with Amy.
*
 Later, back at the auditorium where they have Bellas practice, Aubrey's voice is shrill and loud. (As always, Beca thinks.)
"Beca, you really need to be picking up the slack. We need every dollar that we can raise so that we have enough to cover our journey to the semi-finals, and you're dead last in our fundraiser right now."
Amy mutters something under her breath, soft enough for Beca to hear something about — the bus? The Trebles? She doesn't really know. Whatever it is, it's not something she wants to get in the middle of.
"Maybe we can think of something new to do." Beca's tone is dry, and she schools her expression into something neutral on her face, her head tilted slightly, knowing that Aubrey has to know she isn't just talking about the fundraising activity.
It's just — she can feel the potential of these girls, okay? And it's such a shame that they're stuck doing the same three songs, over and over. If she could at least try, show them her arrangements, maybe they'd have a fighting chance.
"I have the pitch pipe, and I say we do this exactly how we have been doing it."
Beca is about to say something snarky, something she knows is going to get under Aubrey's skin, when Chloe's voice rang out beside her.
"It's okay. I'll do it with Beca tomorrow."
She hasn't even noticed Chloe approaching them in the midst of this, so her head whips around so fast at the sound of her voice.
"Don't you have a class during that time, Chloe? That's the whole reason why we couldn't pair you up with Beca." There's something about Aubrey's clipped words that is super careful and controlled, like there's more that she wants to say but isn't.
Chloe shrugs, before turning to Beca with a beaming smile. "It's okay, skipping out on one Russian Lit lecture won't make a difference."
 *
 Chloe, as it turns out, loves Valentine's Day.
Of course she does. Beca can't say she's surprised in the least. She thinks she doesn't know anyone who's more enthusiastic about everything and anything.
There's something about Chloe that feels like embers starting at the base of Beca's dead, cold heart, warming it up and turning itself three sizes larger.
It's not a thing she wants to unpack right now; she's not the type to get attached to people, and especially not when she's going to go through with her plan, and leave at the end of the school year. It doesn't matter if her dad helps her or not.
"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" Chloe's voice, melodic as it comes, breaks the silence as they walk towards the south quad. She looks ready to go through the entire residence hall, her angel wings bouncing behind them.
"It's a day corporations literally invented to convince everyone to buy cards and chocolates and flowers at jacked up prices, so..."
Chloe lets out a happy sigh. "Maybe so. But it's also a day to celebrate love! And love is so awesome. I love love. And I'm not just talking about romantic love, though that is nice. You can also celebrate the love from all relationships in your life. Like your best friends, or your parents, or your siblings."
Beca raises an eyebrow, because Chloe is just so goddamn earnest. She tugs at her hoodie. "Let me guess, you and shower guy have a date?"
"Who, Tom?"
"How many shower guys do you have?" There's a beat. "Actually, don't answer that."
 *
 So here she is, still in that stupid red hoodie, still holding that stupid bow and arrow, standing in front of people, and singing a duet with Chloe Beale.
 *
 The next morning, Kimmy unceremoniously drops a box at the foot of Beca's bed, a loud thud waking her up.
There's a sleeping mask, a whole clip of flash drives, two huge jars of peanut butter, and cans of Red Bull in the box. There's also a card, and her name is written carefully in the middle of an envelope.
Happy Valentine's Day, Beca!!!! I've said this before, and I'll say it forever: I'm SO glad that I met you. I LOVE that you love music like it's the one thing you can't live without. It's something that really resonates with me, too. You make us better. :) :)
xoxo,
Chloe!
 *
 Beca drifts off to sleep that night, the music still playing in her headphones. She's wearing that sleeping mask across her eyes.
 ------------
ii. 2014, Junior Year, Barden University
 The thing with Jesse is, he really loves these grand gestures of romance.
Sometimes Beca thinks that that's his favorite part. It's almost like he's in love with the idea of being in a relationship.
Worse still, in love with the idea of her, like she's this perfectly scripted character who exists for him.
Last year for Valentine's Day, Jesse had shown up at her dorm. Well, outside of her window actually, boombox on his shoulder. She'd tried not to wince, her lips pressed together into something resembling a smile (she hopes) to the strains of In Your Eyes, at the ungodly hour of dawn.
It isn't even that she had just gotten to sleep like, two hours before that. Or the very clear and enunciated "fuck off!" that her neighbor gave them, complete with a dramatic slamming of her window. At least she doesn't have to deal with that now, now that they've all moved into the Bellas house, newly renovated.
It was just a lot, right? And maybe she should have been a better girlfriend to anticipate it this year, or at least match some of that. Rise up to his level, or something. She just has a reservation to a fancy Italian restaurant in Midtown, and she made that way in advance. So maybe she gets points for that?
January rolls into February, and she dreads it. Every day is a countdown to The Fourteenth.
 *
 Here's the more pressing thing: Chloe seems sad. Not all the time, but Beca catches it occasionally.
She presumes she knows her best friend pretty well by this point, until she's doing things like failing a single class on purpose so that she doesn't graduate. For the second year in a row.
And Beca gets it, at least on an abstract level. If she starts thinking about what comes after graduation — and that's in a year and some — she gets nervous, too. But in no version of her reality does she get so paralyzed with fear, that she would opt to repeat her senior year like it’s groundhog year.
She wishes she could know why, for certain. She can't help if she doesn't know what's going on in Chloe's head, but for the first time, it's Chloe's turn to clam up and switch the subject.
So Beca doesn't push. She hopes it's enough to keep her afloat as she works through whatever it is. She doesn't really know what that entails, but music? Music she can do.
She pours her energy into putting together a really solid mix for Chloe; it's all the songs that remind Beca of her, and their friendship. She picks songs and arranges them and removes them before she puts them back in, because it has to sound right.
Beca feels like the world's biggest dork for giving it to her the morning of Valentine's Day.
Well, second biggest dork, because she intercepts Chloe leaving the gift boxes in the room, for her and Amy.
"Hey, uh. Happy Valentine's Day," she says, handing her the flash drive — one of the many that Chloe has gotten her over the years, like she's her supplier — and hoping she doesn't look as awkward as she feels. "It's not anything like your, like, super thoughtful gifts." She gestures in that general direction. "But you're my best friend, so... here."
She gets pulled into a hug, and Beca can't be sure, but it sounds like Chloe's 'thank you' is strained and she's about to cry.
Beca hopes it's enough.
 *
 "So, Jesse gave you just the one earring?"
Beca's back from the dinner. It was... nice? There was a string quartet and Jesse made them play John Legend's All Of Me, and Beca didn't actually die of embarrassment when he started singing along, so she'll chalk that up as a win.
"Yeah, it's like — symbolism, I guess. From the movie." Beca shrugs, chewing on the popcorn she's made that Chloe is currently stealing. She thinks about lightly smacking her hand away, but ends up shifting the bowl so that it's nearer to Chloe.
Does she regret putting Don't You (Forget About Me) in their setlist? Maybe.
Probably not, all things considered, because it worked well together with the other songs, and they did win the finals that year. But it elevated the movie to mythical and legendary status for Jesse, and if he does that arm raising motion one more time during squabbles he wants to get out of? Beca might lose it even harder.
"Is it symbolism or a metaphor? I could never tell the difference."
"I think it was a metaphor in the movie," Beca starts, a thoughtful expression on her face. "But more of a symbol for like, me and Jesse? Oh my god." She presses her free hand to her eyes. "You're such a nerd. Stop making me think deeper about this than I need or want to."
"I just think it's nice," she hears Chloe say.
Beca hums, tone neutral. "It's something, for sure. Wait." She whips her head to face her best friend. "You didn't go out tonight? Ms. 'I Love Love'?"
Chloe chuckles lowly, quietly. "I have all I need here in this house, anyway."
 *
 When Beca goes to the kitchen in the middle of the night for a glass of water, she thinks she hears the soft strains of her mix playing from Chloe's room.
   ------------
  iii. 2017, Brooklyn, NY
 It's apparently the warmest February in New York on record, but Beca is still fucking freezing.
The incessant chill envelops the air, and she pulls her coat closer to her. She's bundled under layers, but the radiator in their tiny little apartment is, as most things in it, almost completely busted.
Jesus Christ. It's cold.
 *
 Amy is convinced she's cold because she's moping, because she's sad about breaking up with Jesse.
Beca knows she isn't, and it's not just the long distance thing.
They'd given it a fair go, and it sucked that he got busier with classes and she tried to solve all of the music industry's problems as an associate producer, working hours trying to make tracks sound... sonically unrotten.
It's not just the long distance thing, because if Beca was honest with herself, it was probably a sign that when he told her that he was thinking of completing his studies in California, her immediate response was that of neutral indifference.
So, she is totally fine.
 *
 Beca hears Chloe singing softly before the door even opens, and she can hear it swing open too, and she knows Chloe is about to shrug her coat off —
"Don't bother, it's also cold in here," Beca says, from under the covers.
Then, her eyes track Chloe as she walks to the radiator —
"I checked, it's working. Supposedly."
"Aww." Chloe strides the distance — not that it's that long — and sits down on their shared bed. "You're so cute when you're grumpy."
"Aren't you freezing?" she chooses to deflect the comment, hugging herself petulantly. "Hey, how was your date with that guy at the clinic?"
Chloe hums noncommittally. "We went for coffee and he double-booked me with another girl."
"Dude. What a dick." Beca feels a flash of — annoyance? Chloe deserves the world. Chloe deserves everything she wants. "I'm sorry."
"I know. It's okay though." Chloe smiles at her. It's that smile that Beca catches that she thinks it's just for her, but she's also a logical person who knows that Chloe has that ability to make people feel like they're the most important person in the world. "I've got all I need right here."
Warmth pools at Beca's stomach, and honestly. It's a nice change from the freezing.
 *
 It's 2 AM, and they're cuddling, because of course they are; because Chloe is warm; because Chloe is an embrace personified; because... Chloe.
Beca stirs awake, and she feels Chloe's breath tickle at the base of her neck. She shifts, not uncomfortably. Then, Chloe's hand drifts sleepily, and lands somewhere on Beca's hip.
And then.
And then.
There is a sudden, startling clarity in Beca's mind, knocking the figurative breath out of her. Her eyes fly open.
She loves Chloe.
And not in the same way where she loves the rest of her found family in the other Bellas.
Oh no, a voice sounds in her mind.
Oh, this is very bad, she thinks.
She can't believe how still she is right now, feeling the entire weight of Chloe's body in contact against her. Feeling her slow, steady breathing against her back. She's not even cold anymore.
Okay. So she loves her best friend. Cool, cool, very cool. That's totally fine. She can handle this.
Chloe's been such a fixture in her life, at every turn; in every note in between the downbeat and upbeat that is her life. Music is in Beca's veins, her whole life, but music flows right through Chloe. She's tucked warmly in the melody, a motif throughout the entire song.
Holy shit, Beca thinks. She's been in love with Chloe for so long, she doesn't even know when it started.
 *
 Okay, so. There's a weird spot on the ceiling, right? And Beca just keeps staring at it, because if she closes her eyes, she will feel Chloe's presence so keenly, pressed next to her.
She can't do anything with this knowledge. She can imagine it now, Chloe giving her a comforting hug but tells her, sorry Beca, I love you but not in that way.
It's five whole years of friendship, of Chloe by her side no matter what, and that is the one thing that she's got that she doesn't want to risk, just because she had this stupid revelation.
God. It's so stupid. It'll pass. Right?
 ------------
 iv. 2018, Los Angeles, CA
 What is really fucking weird, even in the grand scheme of things, is journalists asking her if she's doing anything for Valentine's Day.
Which, like. First of all, Beca's not stupid, she knows it's a way to suss out her personal-slash-love life.
She's kept that pretty close to her chest for now.
But also, there's literally nothing to tell. She's not being defensive because there's something to hide away. Beca is knee-deep in work all the time, and she goes home to an apartment that feels too big for just herself. It's a big change from the entirely too cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Sometimes she finds herself missing that very specific part of her life. Not the struggling and being unhappy doing work with no integrity, obviously. But Chloe is now a message and three hours ahead, instead of being a daily fixture in her apartment, and it leaves Beca feeling off-kilter.
But maybe that distance is a good thing, after... you know. Revelations.
Anyway.
Her work ethic doesn't stop rumors. She's linked to every guy available — and some not — every single time one of them likes her Instagram posts. She's pretty sure she's had at least two full relationships, according to the National Enquirer.
Theo gleefully sends her screenshots. She tells him to fuck off.
 *
 Chloe Look out, super star! I'm going to be in LA for a good friend's wedding in February!! If you think we're not going to hang, you're sorely mistaken.
 Beca is busy, but she sure as hell isn't going to miss Chloe coming to LA.
 Beca You have good friends outside of the Bellas? I am shocked, Beale.
 Chloe Don't be jealous 😉
 She's not. Not because of that, she catches herself thinking, and frowns at herself. Not because of anything, she decides. It's also exactly how she decides she doesn't have feelings for Chloe anymore, because Chloe is happy with Chicago, and Beca has work, and honestly? Best outcome out of every outcome possible.
Still, Beca offers up her apartment for the long-ish weekend that Chloe would be in town. She's not a monster, and Chloe has like, a mountain of student debt.
It's the least she could do.
 *
 (Beca thinks back to that first performance at the Citadel, just under a year ago. Thinks of all the nerves she's never felt before, while she's walking to the microphone. She's always had the girls on stage with her, but not this time. Her family would be seated in the front row, supporting her no matter how far she goes.
She gets to bring them up on stage this time, of course, but it's also a temporary balm and she knows it. But that's fine, she can figure that part out.
It's the after that smarts a little.
After the performance, after the event, after she feels that pit, growing and clawing from her stomach when she sees Chloe lock lips with Chicago.
After she walks away with Theo, trying her level best to carry on a conversation as if she's not affected by what she'd just seen; trying not to think of all the what-ifs.
After, on the plane back home, when she directs a small smile at Chloe's direction. If she's happy then she's happy for her.
It's the least she could do.)
 *
 Chloe's flight reaches the airport at 7 in the evening, and Beca's right there at LAX, waiting for her to emerge. She can see a couple of people with the big paparazzi cameras, training their lenses at her, but she doesn't care.
There's a flash of red as she sees Chloe running to her, and thankfully she catches her.
"Oh, I've missed you," Chloe says, so earnest and sincere as always; always, and Beca can hear her own heartbeat. She's almost worried that Chloe can too, like a traitorous Tell-Tale Heart.
"Yeah, well, regular sight for sore eyes, that's me." That's good, right? She hits jocularity right in the bullseye with that, as if she can't feel the top of her ears growing hot.
Chloe just laughs; like another kind of warmth. She draws her in again, hand rubbing up and down Beca's back.
Beca thinks she's stupid, for feeling like she's home.
 *
 They get to Beca's place, Chloe appraising the place appreciatively as she wheels her luggage in.
"This is already at least fifty times nicer than our little shoebox in Brooklyn," she observes, and Beca shrugs, a little embarrassed.
"I mean, the label's paying for it, and it's like, it's — it's ridiculous." There's a voice at the back of Beca's head repeating, our little shoebox, and she wants it to shut up.
But it is ridiculous. She has so much space, and two rooms; she sleeps in one and the other one is where she works. She's pretty sure she spends more time in the latter than she does the former.
"Anyway, uh, so here's my sort-of office, it's a bit of a mess right now." She waves her hand around (god, why is she using her hands so much) at the room with her equipment and instruments, before stepping to her bedroom door. "And here's the bedroom, which, like. You should take the bed. My couch pulls out and it's really comfortable?"
"Don't be silly," Chloe tells her, looking back at the king-sized bed. "We've slept in way more crowded spaces. This will be perfect."
Beca swallows, hard. Perfect.
 *
 Falling back into a routine with Chloe is scarily easy.
She's been here for less than three hours, and Beca's already back to being attuned to her. They put on some music in the background, she listens to Chloe talk so passionately about school and all the stuff she's learning, and Beca is so proud.
She brushes her teeth and changes into her pajamas after Chloe does, exactly like how they used to, and climbs into her bed.
"Oh, shoot, I almost forgot," Chloe's saying, and Beca cocks her head curiously to see what she's forgotten. Her best friend comes back with a box, and hands it over to her.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Bec. Also, I don't think flash drives are in fashion now," she winks. "So your Google Drive storage has been renewed, for all the audio files you need to back up. Don't worry, I didn't look at anything else."
"Wh — oh. Oh, right, Valentine's Day, gifts and all," Beca says, and looks at the box in her hand. "Wait, is this —"
"Chocolate from your favorite place in New York? Yessss," Chloe says, a laugh coloring her tone. She settles back into bed. "Not that you have a shortage of chocolate places here, but Amy reminded me of the time she ate most of the last box after how you were saving your favorite pieces, so I thought I'd bring some here for you."
Beca's heart clenches.
"Thanks, Chlo." She's pretty proud of how unwavering her voice is. "I miss it."
"It's been tough for me too, not having you in my orbit," Chloe says, bumping their shoulders together.
"Yeah? Must be extra tough, because Chicago's not around either." Then she's scrambling. "Not that I'm like, comparing myself to your boyfriend in any way."
She sees Chloe's mouth twist to the side. Beca's eyebrows knit together.
"Chlo?"
"He's not my boyfriend anymore." Chloe's words are slow, measured. Like she's afraid of setting something off.
Beca pauses, as she takes it all in.
"Oh. I mean — Are you okay?"
"Yeah. It's been..." Beca sees Chloe's furrowed brows as she thinks. "Three months, almost. Just right before Christmas."
Beca thinks back to Christmas; to the group messages, the online gift cards and food deliveries made in each other's names. Nowhere in her memory exists this piece of information, and she's pretty sure she's not been that shitty of a friend to miss this.
It feels a little bit like being hurt, actually.
"Oookay," she says, licking her lips a little, letting the air out of her slowly. "Okay. Well. Good night, Chloe."
 *
 Beca can't fall asleep, and she's pretty sure she knows why. It's been an hour of staring at the ceiling, and she tries to will her stupid mind to shut down for the night.
She thinks Chloe must be asleep by now; her body clock must be three hours —
"Bec?"
Beca pauses for so long that she thinks Chloe might actually think she's asleep.
"Yeah."
She feels Chloe shift. "I want you to ask me."
Beca wants to be obtuse and frustrating; wants to pretend she doesn't know what she's talking about. Instead, the confusion and hurt win out.
She pushes herself up on her elbows, then into a sitting position. It doesn't feel like a conversation that they should have lying down. She waits for Chloe to do the same, before finding her voice and words.
"Why didn't you tell me that you and Chicago broke up?" Dimly lit by the street lights outside, Beca sees her shift in place, and she feels Chloe's hand reaching for hers. "I thought — well. You know. That we tell each other things."
Which is slightly rich, coming from her, she knows. But still.
Chloe sighs, just quietly. "Because I have feelings for someone else."
Beca blinks, taking that in. It's a weird feeling because she's simultaneously crushed and hopeful, and maybe it's the hour, or maybe it's Chloe's hand in hers, but as her eyes sweep across Chloe's face, Beca is emboldened.
She leans in, and time feels like it's slowing down as she closes the distance and presses her lips on Chloe's, roughly and then temperately.
Beca's not the most impulsive person. In the moments, though, when she is, they always leave her wondering if she'd done something stupid — like punching creepy middle-aged a cappella guys, like leaving in the middle of a fight, like pulling the girls up on stage during her solo set.
Like kissing Chloe Beale in her bed.
So she pulls back suddenly, as quickly as she had started it, an apology already stumbling out. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I just assumed, I'm so sor—"
Chloe makes a noise; something that sounds like no, her eyes so startlingly blue even in this light, and Beca freezes. She's sure her brain is working out some sort of rambling apology or excuse, maybe pass it off as a joke somehow?
But Chloe pulls her back in, both thumbs lightly touching Beca's cheekbones as she meets their lips again.
This second kiss is deeper, slower, more connected. It takes her breath away, as her hand curls at the back of Chloe's neck. Chloe tastes like mint and sweetness and sincerity, and a little like hopeless optimism on Beca's part.
A soft gasp escapes, and Chloe pulls away this time.
Beca has a tentative smile on her face, as she takes in a breath heavily; the questions written so plainly on her face.
Chloe's eyes shine.
"It's always been you, Beca."
 ------------
 v. 2020, Los Angeles, CA
 Having your anniversary on Valentine's Day is good. And bad.
Mostly good, because it means that Beca has that to help keep herself honest and not forget it, because it's impossible to.
Also, she won't forget, but, you know. Just in case.
Bad, especially last year, because it fell right around the Grammys weekend, and apparently when you're nominated and win pretty much... every single category you're in, that's kind of a big fucking deal.
(It started with Best New Artist, and by the time she's on that stage a fourth time, she literally had no other words and nothing but so much gratitude.)
But yeah, so last year's Valentine's Day-slash-anniversary was overwhelming. People contacting her from all corners, wanting to congratulate her and get some sound bites; the internet pouring both support, and scathing critique on her and her music.
Beca wishes she could say she rose above it, that she was as cool as her publicist thinks her to be.
Instead, Chloe had to deal with her, a stressful human ball of anxiety and nerves. Amazing, wonderful, sweet Chloe, just happy to be around her during these exciting and utterly vulnerable times.
 *
 This year, though. This year she's older and wiser.
Hopefully.
This year, the day falls on a Friday, but they've decided to celebrate it the next day and through the weekend instead, because Chloe has a seminar she needs to attend for school, and Theo had packed Beca's entire day with a long meeting.
Key word: had.
At 7 AM, as she wakes up groggily and checks her phone, the invite has disappeared from her calendar, presumably rescheduled for some other time. She vaguely notes the message from Theo about entire teams not being available, and Beca's not going to question the reason why, because she's immediately looking up flights to Ithaca and books the first one out.
 *
 (I'm not private jet rich, dude. Also, carbon footprint. Text to Amy, because of course.)
 *
 Here's her plan:
She'll make a beeline to Chloe's apartment (Beca's been here plenty of times, in the past couple of years; met her friends here in Cornell, hung out with them, appreciated that they're her support circle while she's here), and she'll say something incredibly dorky, and Chloe will kiss her, and then, they will properly celebrate.
God, the things Chloe can do with her mouth; the sounds Beca can get her to make.
Beca doesn’t even bother squirming in the plane seat.
 *
 Chloe I have a surprise!!!
Whereeee are you? 🥰🥰🥰
 *
 Here's what happens instead:
Beca has to fly back home — noun, the place where she lives; noun, Chloe — because while she was spending six hours flying east, Chloe had done the same in the opposite direction; her seminar being canceled (something about the professor being sick?).
She can't believe it.
Okay, she can maybe believe it.
God, the Bellas are going to have a field day with this.
 *
 In the group chat, Chloe's taken a selfie of herself in Beca’s apartment and captioned it: I flew here a day early to surprise Beca, but she flew to Cornell instead to surprise me too 😂
 Emily OMAG YOU GUYS that is SO CUTE!!!!!!
 Beca reads Emily's text, shaking her head, knowing that this is the younger girl's version of restraint.
 Flo One time I thought a guy was going to propose to his girlfriend on the plane, but turned out he was having a heart attack instead.
 Jessica&Ashley #justsoulmatethings
 *
 Rush hour in LA is so horrible, and it's nearly 8 PM when she finally gets back to her apartment. She jogs all the way from the Lyft to her door.
Beca never jogs.
Her own door flings open, and she sees the smiling face of the woman she loves.
"Flying cross country for me is so romantic."
"You did that too," Beca points out, a small smirk on her face.
"Yeah, but you did it twice." Chloe beams, and kisses her again, and again.
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oh-my-may · 4 years
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Nishinoya, Bokuto, Oikawa and Atsumu as your boyfriend hcs
requested by anon: hey hey heyyyy! may i request for 'as a boyfriend' headcannons for nishinoya, boukto, oikawa and atsumu please? thank u if u get around doing this !! xoxo
hello there!^^ at first I thought about splitting this post up into 2 parts because usually the ‘as your boyfriend hcs’ are a bit longer but  I decided against it so enjoy~ (also atsumus and oikawas are a bit longer because they are my faves and uuuh I am weak lol)
Nishinoya Yuu:
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one of the most energetic and happiest boyfriends!!
Will literally love and cherish you until you die and probably even after that, I’m being serious his love and affection for you have no end
though in the beginning of your relationship, or even before it, he always gets very shy around you which is unusual for him. That’s how he knows you’re special to him, because you make him doscover a whole new side of him!
The secret admirer type of crush, everyday you’ll find a new small present waiting on your desk. Your favorite drink, a snack, a small cute note, a new pen when he noticed your old one didn’t work anymore, a small bunch of flowers... It’s just so cute!
But it takes forever until he actually asks you out. In reality, it happens a lot different than he imagined. Normally he made sure he was in school waaayyy before you, but that one day he overslept and was in class just a few minutes before you. or so he thought. You just walked in the moment he placed the small package of milk on your desk and you both just stare at each other for several minutes and he’s about to faint until Tanaka saves him and gets him out of class because “he might develop a fever, his face is all red and sweaty”
2 days or so you don’t hear anything from him, until he manages to get over himself and ask you out in the tiniest voice. He has to repeat himself several times until you understand him properly because the poor boy was so nervous he spoke too fast and too quietly
BUT AFTER he finally gets you to be his he’s just the smiliest baby!!
Will never, not ever, let go of your hand. At least not when he can avoid it.
Always wants you to be on his side, like at practice and such. You can be guaranteed to be found at every single game that Karasuno ever has again, even practice games. You’re always there cheering for him and he’s at his 150% every time! The team loves his energy on the field but it’s a biot exhausting everywhere else :’)
ANWAYS definitely a lot of activity dates! I’m not saying that he would say no to a good old cuddle session, but he’s just always bouncing around, so going to the arcade or comign up with fun games at the park is normally what you do after school and practice!
Tanaka is the accepted third-wheel of your relationship. Whenever your over sat Noya’s he ends up showing up, too a lot of times or he joins in on fun dates, but it’s never uncomfortable or weird. You two actually become really good buddies and he always tells you funny stories about Noya! Also him and Kiyoko and you two go on double dates and it’s!! So cute!!
Did I mention that Noya is the king of skinship and PDA?? He really couldn’t care less who’s around you or who might be watching, his eyes are always on you and his hand somehow magically finds his way to your ass lol
No but on a serious note he just can’t live without you and sometimes he can get really anxious if he doesn’t find you in a crowd or your hands don’t intertwine immediately when he reaches for you. He can’t explain it, it just doesn’t feel good about it when you’re not around him.
Protective!! WILL jump on anyone that looks at you the wrong way or makes you feel uncomfortable. he 100% has Tanaka’s support for this.
Did I forget anything?? That should be about it for my little noya rant, he’s just too cute I’ll hug him to death~
Bokuto Kotarou:
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chaotic™
When I tell you he did NOT know what he was doing when he asked you out. Just listened to Akaashi’s and Kuroo’s advice and it somehow worked out for him. Several months into the relationship he’s still not entirely sure how he got you, but he doesn’t complain
(psssht, it was his clumsy charm mixed with some kind of natural charisma that got you, but don’t tell him that he will not shut up about it)
When he first saw you he was at practice and he couldn’t help but stare because how can a real human being be so pretty?? and he actually missed a ball, got it slammed to his head and well what can I say? You almost got him passed out the first time he saw you
He got soooo embarrassed afterwards help the poor boy. The brightest blush ever appeared on his cheeks and ears and his hair immediately went emo mode straight down hanging into his face
The whole situation was so chaotic and messy you couldn’t help but turn around and look for the source of all this trouble, just to find the silver-haired boy staring right at you and hitting you someplace special in your chest, literally taking you aback
Afterwards the coach scolds him for being inattentive and you leave the gym in a hurry, because you as well are embarrassed. But it doesn’t take long until Akaashi gets send to get your number and you can’t help but giggle as he tells you about how Bokuto literally won’t stop whining about you being the prettiest human being on earth
That’s how you started texting and bokuto might just be one of the most random texters (is that even a word??) ever. Like yeah, in the beginning he’ll mainly talk about volleyball and send you sweaty pics of him (no, not these ones!) but then again you’ll get a text at 3am on a thursday and it will be like a really bad picture taken of the moon and it will say like “thought about you” and in the next message 3 seconds later he’ll talk about wanting to be a werewolf or so. And you have to laugh so hard you can’t even be mad at him for waking you up
And that’s basically how you’re relationship works, too. A lot of random texts, especially “come over?” ones or “watch me at practice! please???” and you can’t ever get yourself to say no to him, because he’s always so happy when you show up!
Ngl it kinda distracts him too, but he’s in ace mode when you watch him because he feels the need to impress you even when you tell him there’s no need for him to because you’re already impressed by him
Loves hugs! Hugs after a victory or a defeat, hugs after school and practice and hugs as greetings and goodbyes... Just hugs, so he can entirely engulf you in his big and strong arms and you basically vanish somewhere between his arms. Loves pressing you close in the whole process of it, so close that you can barely breathe for a second, but you actually love it because it just shows his love and affection
9/10 times you’re also the cure to his emo mode. Just very rarely even you can’t help him and it’s upon himself to get over it, but with your presence near him and the opportunity to cuddle onto you while reflecting about himself, he’ll get over it eventually
He’s also the biggest cuddler there could possibly be. most of your dates are stay-inside ones because most of the times he’s exhausted from practice and games, so a chill night in with a good movie or series and some nice snacks really do it for him. He can just cuddle onto you however he likes and he especially likes brushing his fingers over your warm, soft skin. It makes him feel very at ease.
Yeah so that’s about it C: Please just love this smol bean to no end, because his love sure as hell also has no limit
Oikawa Tooru:
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People might think he’d be very blunt and cocky and all when he has a crush, but I’m telling you - he’s actually the softest boy ever and prefers to keep his distance at fir4st to observe and understand his feelings for you
So what I’m saying is: As soon as he realizes what exactly his feelings are for you, he gets a bit shy and distant but blushes whenever he sees you
At first he thought you were just one of his obsessed fans and he didn’t think much of it, but then his gaze always wandered over to you, no matter if it was during a game or a practice or at school or when he saw you somewhere else... It was like you were haunting him, in like the best possible way, as he soon realized
It takes him forever to get himself to talk to you, because he wants everything to be perfect. He chooses to approach you in school when he found you alone that one day, but oh well, it totally didn’t go as planned. His glasses fell off his nose when he was trying to be smooth, he hopelessly stumbles across his words and his face got so red you thought you were talking to a tomato. Still, it kinda did something to you. You found it endearing, really. So you could just smile and nod when he asked you to got out with him and the biggest sigh of relief ever™ leaves his lips
He’s still hecka nervous for your first date, asks all his friends and team mates about their opinion on what he should wear and do, where should he take you etc... It takes him so long to decide that you just take it in hand and suggest something and he just rolls with it and turns out to be one of his favorite dates ever. A day at the park, though halfway through it got messy because it started raining and neither of you were prepared, so you had to run and share his jacket to go someplace dry and you end up in a library and neither of you can hold in the giggles when the librarians tell you to “tone it down.” It’s also your first kiss between seemingly endless rows of old books and your hearts flutter like crazy afterwards and you’re just speechless because... OIKAWA IS A GREAT KISSER idc what any of y’all think
so it just becomes a regular thing for him to pull you aside in the gym hall or school halls or whatever and kiss you senseless for his entertainment because your reaction is always 10/10
He may act smooth around others, presenting himself as the cool confident boyfriend, but really... He’s just the softest boy for you and a hopeless romantic on top.
Play with his hair and he will never leave your side ever again. The cutest pink hue will spread on his cheeks the first time you do it and with time you learn more about his soft spots, like brushing your lips or fingertips over his neck or the ticklish feeling he gets when you touch his waist.
Loves to pick out movies and series for you to watch. Most of them are alien or conspiracy theory-themes but you don’t mind, Oikawa is happiest when he can connect several things he loves, like you and aliens, or you and volleyball.
You’re also gonna have to accept the fact that he spends a lot of time on volleyball and that he will come home late and not always have time for you on the weekends. He will, however, especially love it when you work your way through his schedules to meet him, like when you come to watch and support him at practice. He will take extra breaks to pull you close and calm himself down in your arms.
Iwaizumi will definitely become one of your closest friends and you’ll both spend time shit talking about Tooru (ofc in a loving way) and Oikawa can’t help but smile seeing as you get close to his best friend~
He’s not exactly the most jealous type of boyfriend. He does trust you a lot and just makes sure that everybody always knows he’s your boyfriend. Trusts you with handling certain situations, though he will keep an eagle eye on strange boys and men near you and won’t lose no time chiming in when he feels like it to safe you
Of course there’s a big decrease in the numbers of his fangirls after everyone finds out you two are official, but Oikawa actually prefers it this way. As long as you are cheering for him, nothing will be able to stop him.
The bestest and softest boyfriend, not to be dramatic but I’d die for him
Miya Atsumu:
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Okay now this one is actually smooth. Or so he thinks.
He’s quite obvious about his crush and feelings for you, so like he won’t hide it and use every possible opportunity to talk to you and flirt with you. And when I say flirt I mean he will use every bad pickup line you have ever heard somewhere
At first you’re really really turned off by it, but you do give him credits for being so determined and never giving up. He even takes advice from all his team mates and even though Osamu and Suna are very annoyed by his behaviour, they help because they think it will get better once you two are dating.
So every once in a while he will bring you some self-made delicious food along with a smooth line and one day he catches you off guard so hard you choke on some rice and then blush so hard you run out and you just leave poor Tsumu standing there wondering??? Are you okay? Did he just make you blush?
The next day he comes apologizing with the biggest bouquet of flowers right in front of everybody in your class and you get soooo embarrassed and the way he’s standing there is lowkey just adorable so you have no choice but to say yes. You almost catch him blushing right there, as well, because he really didn’t expect you to say that right then and there
Now when I tell you, he’s the most likely out of these 4 to ditch volleyball practice to sdpernd time with you. Most of the time it isn’t even intended, he just forgets time until he either gets a text from his brother or Suna or Kita OR you realize how late it is being like “Tsumus shouldn’t you be at practice since like 2 hours?” “Oh really? Guess not today. Now come here.”
He gets very used to having you close to him, just like Bokuto, so he will start whining when you can’t make it to a game or you’re busy with school work. Will definitely also make surprise visits at your house, like he’ll just randomly appear in front of your window at 3 am?? Are you spiderman??
Not to be angsty on this fluff post but uuhh fights with him can get very bad because he’s a stubborn child and sometimes you’ll catch him not talking to you 3 days after an argument because he needs time to cool down and reflect. He’s in the wrong 4 out of 5 times and he knows, but just give him time and he’ll be fine again. Shows up with the biggest face of regrets and food he threatened his brother to make and he’ll just blob down into your arms mumbling apologies over and over again. Cute.
Jealousy over 3000. Grows red with anger and balls his hands into the fist the moment some guy makes his way to you. Is on your side in 1 second will make no effort to hide his distrust towards the other guy. Sometimes he’ll get a bit too protective and you just have to tell him that and he’ll let you do your thing, though his gaze will never leave you just to make sure
Biggest show off. Will pull you close or hold your hand in public, grinning like and idiot and constantly placing kisses on your knuckles because you’re his baby and he loves you
Before he serves at games he will look right at you and have the most smug smile one has ever seen on his lips before smashing the ball righ into the opponent‘s field with 0 chance of them to safe the ball. It’s lowkey hot.
Also he gets very pouty and whiny when tired after a long day at school with practice or after exhausting games! Will constantly place his head on top of yours, saying it’s “too heavy” and he literally just covers your body with his.
The type to unconsciously pull you closer while sleeping!! The cutest habit! Always makes you smile when he does it!
A lot of your dates involve either volleyball or playing video games (sometimes Osamu or Suna join) and it’s most of the times just really chill. From time to time though, he’ll get the urge to do something else and next thing you know is you’re wall climbing or on a roller coaster or something. It’s either all or nothing with him concerning dates lmao
Also loves bickering! Will sometimes annoy you on purpose to see your cute face and you’ll have small arguments about who stinks more or whatever and then it always ends with “i love you though”
djsklsl I’m stopping myself now because this was getting too long because I am biased™
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