#even with the grammar mistakes and the typos

[lowgothree]

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ❜

chapter no. 001!          

𝗈𝗈𝗈.               ⠀CONTENT : paige “with” another girl (for the plot). reader is so terribly down bad. also, i don’t proofread so if you see typos or grammar mistakes i’m sorry. and this chapter is kinda boring but it's necessary soo.

𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 1.5k

𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : yall seemed to like the prologue so i hope yall like this too!!

THEY’RE KISSING. and she’s enjoying it, by the looks of it. you can tell because she’s doing that thing where she pulls the other person closer like they could never be close enough. the thing she used to do to you. 

it’s almost comical that the first time you see paige again, she’s kissing some other girl with eyes like yours outside the diner where you and the girls were. she thinks she’s being sneaky (she’s not). she always thought she was sneaky, you remember that much. in fact, you somehow remember everything about the blonde except what her lips tasted like. so of course you’re a little jealous, feeling a bit out of the loop. that’s normal. right? and maybe definitely it’s stupid to mourn so deeply over a relationship that you ended but, whatever, you can’t help that you miss her.

there was nothing human about the feeling, it was more like a typhoon or a volcanic eruption, something so completely out of your control. it was purely sickening…but whenever you see the peroxide-blonde with someone new, you  find yourself apprehensively scanning their hair, their skin, the words that they would say –– always finding a hint of yourself within them. the delusional part of you wanted that to mean she still wanted you, but logic said that maybe she just started having a type. but then you’d think back to before…the paige before you never had a specific type. but since you? there’s an unmistakable one. but that’s not enough proof that she still feels for you. in fact, it’s nothing. it’s hard not to see yourself when you’re actively looking for it. you’d keep up with the torture by staring at paige kissing that girl through the window but then you feel a sharp kick to your shin from underneath the table. 

“stop staring, perv.” nika mutters, rolling her eyes lightly. although nika was one of the few people who knew about the dead relationship, she didn’t know that your feelings for paige still lingered. she only knew what paige told her, that the two of you were friends.

“i wasn’t ––”

“you were.”

okay –– maybe you were. you sigh silently to yourself, taking a sip of your milkshake. this is the first time you’re actually hanging out with your friends together rather than just one on one (which you only did because you didn’t want to see paige). the two of you agreed to be friends but that was clearly not going to happen. however, you felt bad for denying your friends every time they asked to spend time with you. so, you sucked up your pride. you could spend an hour in paige’s presence, it wouldn’t kill you. at least not literally.

angel, a redhead who shares a dorm with nika and a major with you, is sitting in between azzi and you. she’s eyeing you carefully, after all, the two of you are very close and she knows why you and paige broke up. she also knows that you still care about her. her gaze is simultaneously suffocating and protective.

“...are you okay?” she whispers only loud enough for you to hear. you simply nod, munching on your fries trying not to look out of the window again. in truth, your head was spinning. you haven’t seen paige face to face since the breakup. you were hoping you’d never have to again…

then she finally enters, walking up to the booth. every step she takes is just as confident as they always are. her hair is down, running across the length of her back. her eyes meet yours, they’re more familiar than your own name. her beauty is still unquestionable –– but you wouldn’t admit it. it would make looking away from her even more difficult. so instead you pretend not to look as she sits down at the booth right next to nika…right in front of you. she pokes nika’s side just to piss her off  before snatching a fry from angel’s plate and dipping it in her own milkshake. angel rolls her eyes but says nothing.

“that’s disgusting.” nika turns up her nose as paige bites it. 

“don’t knock it till you try it.” paige dramatically licks her fingers. nika makes a fist, gently hitting the table a few times with her knuckles. you chuckle at nika’s attitude.

“what are you giggling about? you used to like it too.” paige mutters, smiling lightly but her words send a pang to your chest. nobody else seems to catch the bitterness in her tone….but you do. her eyes look almost guilty when she sees the sharp intake of breath you take. but before she could say anything else, you look away. you avoid her eye contact like it’s deadly.

nika clears her throat, eventually sensing the tension, and turns her attention to azzi whose eyes are close and head is rested against the booth. “you okay?”

“mhm…just really tired.” she mutters, opening her eyes to sip her lemonade. 

you chuckle. “i bet you are, we stayed up all last night studying.”

“finals?” angel questions.

“yeah…” azzi mumbles.

“can we please not talk about that right now?” paige groans.

“says you, scholar athlete.” azzi mutters, rolling her eyes at the blonde.

“she’s too busy with that girl to focus on studying these days.” nika chuckles. angel looks over at you for a quick moment but you keep your gaze steady on your plate.

you nearly jump out of your skin trying to relax your tensing shoulders before someone notices. you ended things with her…she couldn’t even call you her girlfriend. so why did it hurt so much to even hear of someone else in your place? this wasn’t exactly the plan, you were meant to move on by now. but seeing her…again…all you can wonder is what she’s thinking about right now.

“who? cleo?” paige snorts. “we’re not talking about that either.”

cleo. cleo. the girl who just had her tongue down paige’s throat no less than ten minutes ago. you feel sick to your stomach at the mention but you hide it well, then you feel sicker when you think about how pathetic it is that you even felt this way to begin with. it’s just another indignity among many.

“why not?” nika mutters. “it’s more interesting than talking about studying.”

“true.” azzi adds.

paige looks over at you, her way of saying that she’s not going to talk about another girl in front of you. “where’s aubrey?” 

you appreciate the conversation shift even if you know it’s in vain. they want to know about this mystery girl and honestly, so do you.

“late.” nika mutters.

“i ordered her food for her.” angel smiles softly. 

“and she’s gonna wanna talk about the girl too.” azzi chuckles. angel’s leg shakes underneath the table, she’s clearly empathetic for you. she knows the girls don’t mean to hurt you but she also knows that it is hurting you. you wanted to relax her, make her feel less guilty for not saying anything even if she wasn’t participating in the conversation.

so you chuckle lightly, pretending to be completely fine and say, “can you please be still?”

“can you please be still?” you sigh softly, braiding her hair in its signature style. paige is sitting in front of you on the bed with her legs crossed. she has a game later, and she asked you to braid her hair for her. 

“you’re pretty.” paige mumbles as you finish up her first braid, still squirming at your touch. 

for a second you almost forget yourself, paige being damn near sickeningly sweet. she seems to notice how her words have temporarily struck you, pride swelling within her since she loves making you happy. 

you shrug it off and remember that her back is facing you, so you chuckle at her commenting on your appearance. “you can’t even see me.”

“i don’t have to. i’m thinking about how your face looks right now.” she turns back to look at you over her shoulder. “pretty.”

you bite back a smile, turning her head back so you can braid the other side. “you’re corny, you know that?”

“i’m enamored.”

“oh, someone learned a new word.” you snort, continuing braiding her hair, being as gentle as you can with her. (though it gets increasingly difficult when she won’t stop moving).

“shut up.” she mutters. “i’m super smart.”

you finish braiding her hair, tapping her side to let her know that you’re done and she can go look. she stands up from the bed, long legs taking her to the dresser which has a mirror over it, she eyes her braids carefully. “they’re a little crooked, babe.”

you roll your eyes. “cause you wouldn’t stop mo––”

she turns back your way, walking back to you. paige towers over you while you sit on the bed, she puts a hand under your chin and kisses you. “i’m joking. they’re perfect. thank you, baby.”

“anything for you…” you whisper back and your words make her smile. it’s wide and toothy –– the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

#anything but you ✹ꯣ #paige bueckers x reader

[not-poignant]

Hello Pia how are you? Not really an ask but more sending thanks and love for all of your writing. I've been a reader for over a year now and am still in awe of your skill (and speed!). I've been getting back into writing and struggling with feeling inadequate or like my stuff reads childishly, as a result I can barely get out 5k aha, but I'm working viewing it as a lifelong dedication to improvement. (On a side note: your work got my teenaged self to snap out of purity wank, forever grateful!)

Hi anon,

It is so awesome that you're getting back into writing!

Honestly, it is a sign of a kind of growth to notice the things you don't like in your writing, because if you feel it reads childishly (and I bet it doesn't all read like that, or most of it doesn't), that means you have skillsets already to aim towards. You can see how you want to get better. This is a skill!!! It's a more painful skill, and it's not a good one to listen to all the time, but it's a good skill to have.

When it feels dispiriting you can balance it out by intentionally looking for and writing down your strengths as well, and writing more of those. It might be only a few lines, or it might be all of the dialogue, or it might be the descriptions, but there will be strengths too!

Also 5k is impressive! Everyone writes differently. It took Mark Z Danielewski 10 years to write House of Leaves, and I love that book a very great deal. Quantity =/= quality, and you also have to remember I've been doing this in a pretty focused way for 10 years! Trust me, if you did this in a focused way for 10 years, you'd be in a different place with your output (which isn't obligation to do this for that long, just that...things take time <3 )

I'm glad you were able to snap out of the purity wank mindset anon, it's a tough one to be in, because it makes you feel like you're not safe in your own mind, and after a while it shuts down curiosity because it feels like everything you're interested in has to be examined just in case it's a moral trap or says something 'terrible' about you if you show interest in it. And that's really hard! It makes sense to me why so many antis kind of really lock into what they think and believe, because they've gotten so used to treating themselves with paranoia, how can they not treat others that way?

And that's a miserable way to live. It's the opposite of benefit of the doubt.

So being able to separate from that is incredible! And that's a tribute to your own curiosity in the world, and interest in exploring different ways of doing things, and I think that's really cool. :D

#asks and answers #personal #why are people so nice #you're doing awesome anon #i used to be part of a writer's group called Write Club #(we even had Fight Club style badges) #(i'm still technically a part of it i just haven't been able to go to the meets in ages) #and our leader used to say: #'all words is good words' #and while it was kind of sarcastic/ironic given the phrasing #in the end it became very positive and uplifting because YEAH #even with the grammar mistakes and the typos #all words is good words anon #you're doing incredibly #remember to focus on your strengths if you're already good at focusing on your weaknesses! #strengths keep the building up while you shore up the pillars that need some work #administrator gwyn wants this in the queue

[sokkagatekeeper]

hi for the love of god hello every kid in atla is the loneliest in the world . aang is not just the last air nomad left he is also the avatar and his responsibility to do his duty as such while not allowing his culture to be forgotten and extinct sets him apart from everyone else in the entire world its not just one aspect that singles him out is his entire existence aang IS a hallow he IS the only piece left he IS the legacy he IS the loneliest person in the world the only one who can make his choices for himself the ship and the compass the arrow and the bow the history and the person responsible for any future at all. katara is the last southern waterbender she has made a promise to herself to remember that every day of her life even when her brother could never truly understand what that means to her nobody understands what any of her values mean she lives for the hope in something hopeless and faith in a better world she is the first one willing to get her hands hurt for her cause she has no female friends for fourteen years of her life. sokka has made it his mission to utilize every single piece of knowledge he can get his hands on as a weapon he understands the realities of war better than everyone else he IS the leader the brain the community big brother the father his life of self-made misery is but a side effect of all that knowledge and pessimism he actively chooses to carry for everyone else he hates being the man the brother the father the soldier but it is his job he can take on this enormous fire nation ship all on his own he can die for redemption he can sell his childhood to war for the war to have its heroes as unharmed as possible. zuko has no friends of his own he is the heir the disgrace the world's loneliest dancer he searches for the company of his family all over the world in the shape of a twelve year old simultaneously he runs away from the company his uncle offers but he will never truly get that company he's looking for because ozai just won't care and because azula is as alone as zuko is. azula has two friends who are her friends for survival for aristocrat etiquette for boredom and mocking even she is a child prodigy obsessed with an older brother of hers who keeps abandoning her to the father she is also obsessed with azula wants to please she wants to control she gets to a point where she has literally. no one left on her side. ty lee only ever lets go of her stupid girl mask when mai does they are both the loneliest girls in the world together they see each other better than the rest of the world but its still not enough they HAVE to let go of the masks for company they have to keep the masks for survival they are a mirror of each other but the glass is a cage they can't get out without cutting themselves with the shattered pieces of that reality. toph is rooted to her garden like another pretty flower of her parents she wants to be a weed she wants to be a rock crush the flowers she is a secret blind child her parents are ashamed of she looks for company in the wildest hardest creatures she refuses vulnerability when it knocks on her door she runs away and away and away because the ground is all the real sincere true company she's ever known and understood. yue is the princess trapped in the tower and the dragon is her duty her place her family herself her emotions overflow but as big as they are even they cannot create a bridge large enough to escape it she literally dies to duty her first love is as lonely as she was and the most company she gets now are stars and other strange spirits she was never made to be a girl but that is what she was. suki was imprisoned in the worst jail in the world at sixteen years old because duty because leadership because sacrifice because there are no more soldiers to fight this war she is a community creature completely isolated. every child in atla is the loneliest in the world

#ever think abt that?? do you???? !!! #n #* #im not even gonna send it to drafts lmao if theres any typos or grammar mistakes and the like dw abt it It Was On Purpose #gaang #i Guess #aang #katara #sokka #zuko #azula #mai #ty lee #toph #yue #suki

[marihem]

Let me be the one to ask. How did you come up with this Queerplatonic Frans concept? What drew you into making this?

Aww thank you for asking such a delicious question, pal! Hope you're ready to listen to my 1 am rambles XD

Alright so, to be completely honest...I actually don't truly know how Romance works to execute it myself 😬

Haha yup, sadly, the concept of Romance and Romantic Attraction didn't naturally come to me my whole life and I had a hard time understanding them. (Skill issue, amiright?) So I learned about them through fiction. And even then, my understanding of Romance was a little bit different from what it's usually is (spoiler: it wasn't actually Romance, the word I needed was "Queerplatonic").

I've drawn ship arts before I started drawing Frans and let me tell you, almost all of them were 2 characters just standing next to each other, no hugs, no kisses. Maybe they'll look at each other with fondness. And I was like "hell yeah, I've achieved Romance 😌" pfft.

My 2020 Frans works were where my ship art skills got improved. But you can still see that they aren't explicitly romantic (like, the first time I drew a Frans forehead kiss was for a request). Whatever, I was drawing stuffs about my fav lil guys and I was happy... and yet a tiny part of me wasn't feeling it, like it felt...odd to call them romantic. All these shippy art and I still felt uncomfortable to draw something extremely Romantic. (...this kinda sounds similar to a comphet kind of situation, you get what I'm saying?)

2 years later, I learned about the term "queerplatonic" and just like that, everything made sense =o Now THAT'S the kind of relationship I've been thinking about all these years and it felt magical. Suddenly, with this new knowledge, drawing shippy art felt more comfortable for me, cozy even. Cuz now, the "romance" I'm making is like something a little special for me.

And then I thought "what if I...👀" I grabbed Frisk and Sans like figurines and used them to make my own little ideas of a queerplatonic relationship as they were the perfect materials to work with for me.

I've actually been busying myself with thinking up ideas for them a year before I revealed it to my mutuals, even long before I revealed it publicly 😅

Still, my Roommate Banter AU Frans is still classic romantic. I've only been making funny lil contents of them but I swear! They're secretly crushing on each other, there's romance underneath! I just suck at Romance 😭

So yeah, TL:DR, I don't completely understand romance so I did what I felt comfortable and did actually get the most, approach a ship with a queerplatonic lens.

Tho I'm still learning about Romance cuz there're other ships I'd love to draw shippy art for XD

Anyways, yeah thank you to anyone who read all of this and thank you dear anon for indulging me with your ask <3 Have a lovely day/night ^^

#asks #thank you for the ask! #frans #ah it felt so good to talk about this #even if it looks like i'm just talking into the void #but we all know that void is full of many wonderful things hehe #also i'm so tired and i should sleep but i couldn't so here i am #it's past 2 am by the time i'm done typing cuz i kept getting distracted #again thank you if you read all of this including the tags #imma pass out now #good nighttt #i hope there aren't typos and grammar mistakes above #aroace struggles amirite? #qpr frans

[wiseatom]

hello !! byler with prompt 11 for kisses prompts maybe :)??

thank you for the prompt!!! this super got away from me, but i hope that you enjoy, and that it fits the prompt in a way you had in mind!!

kisses prompts #11: welcome home kisses

Objectively, nine hours is not a long time. Will knows this.

He’s tried to rationalize it every which way, every day of the week: it’s a single-digit number, he reminds himself, when he wiggles out of Mike’s arms in the morning and forces himself out of bed. It’s not even half of the hours that make up a day, he thinks, every time he glances impatiently at the clock on the studio wall and finds it’s still ticking that same, steady speed. You are being a giant baby, he chastises himself, out loud, when the traffic on the way home turns nine hours into nine and a half and makes him want to tear his hair out. 

Subjectively, nine hours is the longest amount of time in the world when every other hour of your day is spent with Mike Wheeler, and nearly every one of your days has been spent that way since kindergarten. 

(So he’s kind of dramatic. Will knows this, too.) 

It’s Saturday, which is Will’s Friday, and Mike’s everyday, because when you have the luxury of (kind of) being your own boss and (kind of) working out of your own home, you (kind of) get to set your own schedule. Will is both (kind of) jealous at the flexibility and (very) grateful that it allows for a more instantaneous reunion when he finally arrives home every day, nine hours of work and traffic behind him. It’s the promise of that instantaneous reunion that gets him up both flights of stairs to their apartment, feet (kind of) dragging and (very) tired and his heart (kind of, very) aching because he’s dumb and misses his boyfriend after nine hours. 

(Nine and a half.)

It’s fine. It’s fine. He’s at their front door, and he’s already got his keys out, and he sticks the right one in the lock on his first try, and he opens the door and he’s ready to be greeted by his boyfriend when–

Said boyfriend nowhere in sight.

Will frowns, toeing his shoes off and setting his keys down in the dish they have on the hallway table, a clatter ringing out as they settle into the glass. The lights are off, but the entire apartment is bright with the yellow-orange glow of the setting sun, streaming through the window with such intensity that it looks like streaks of fire tear through the room, patches of it setting the carpet and the empty couch and coffee table ablaze. He steps further inside, and the cat comes to greet him, rubbing her face up against his leg and purring loudly. At least someone cares that he’s home. He stops where he stands, letting her do a few figure-eights between his legs before he reaches down to pick her up, cradling her against his chest. She lets out a happy meow and nuzzles into him, and he scratches behind her ear as he wanders into the kitchen, just as Mike-less as everything else in his line of sight. 

Objectively: this is fine. Mike does not need to wait by the door for him. Mike doesn’t need to drop whatever he’s doing to greet him the moment he gets home. Nine hours is not a long time. 

Subjectively: this is not fine. Mike should be waiting by the door for him. Mike should be dropping whatever he’s doing to greet him the moment that he gets home. Nine hours is too long to be apart, and Will is going to lose it. 

“Your dad sucks, Carrie,” Will says scornfully to the cat, flipping the kitchen light on and then glaring down the hallway to the office door, where he assumes Mike is holed up typing away at the computer, careless to the fact that his boyfriend is withering away in their very own kitchen from attention and affection deficit. 

Carrie, who does not care that her dad sucks, rubs her head against his chest, which does not solve the her dad sucking problem, but does serve to make him wither just a bit less. 

Whatever. Whatever. Who needs Mike, anyway? Not Will, who has very bravely survived the last nine and a half hours without him. He has a cat who adores him. He has a hand that’s cramped from drawing animation cels all day. He has… a box of Kraft mac and cheese in the pantry, he’s pretty sure. He can make this work. 

He goes to put Carrie down, but she promptly screams the moment she’s within three inches of the floor, so it looks like he’ll be cooking one-handed, then. Thankfully, his instinct about the mac and cheese is correct – there are actually two boxes, which is great, because then Mike can make his own damn food once he finally decides that Will is important enough for his time. The thought makes him scowl again, and when he retrieves a pot from one of the lower cabinets, he makes sure to clang and bang it into every other pot beside it, making as much noise as possible.

The ruckus makes Carrie dig her claws into his shoulder, but even after waiting a minute, Mike doesn’t poke his stupid head out of his stupid office. 

Stupid, Will thinks, slamming the pot into the sink and startling Carrie enough that she launches herself out of his arms, pushing off and away from his chest with all the force her little body can muster. All twelve pounds of her momentarily wind him anyway, and the sound of the bell on her collar jingles cheerily as she darts away from him. “Shit,” he mutters, pressing his hand to his chest where her claws dug into his skin through his sweater. He turns the tap on with more force than he intends to, scowling some more as water begins to fill the pot.

“Stupid,” he says out loud, under his breath, once the pot is full enough. He transfers it to the stove, flicking on one of the burners and reaching for the salt. He glances back to the hallway, where the door to the office is still closed. He nearly empties half of the salt into the water with how aggressively he’s shaking it. It has been nine hours and forty minutes, but he’s not counting. “Stupid,” he mutters again, and turns his attention back to the pot.

His mother’s voice comes to him, soft and kind: a watched pot never boils. Will huffs, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter opposite the stove. He sneaks a glance back to the office door, still closed, still no signs of life from beyond. A watched door never opens, his mother adds gently. That’s not even a saying, he shoots back, and then, quieter: sorry, Mom. I love you. 

She doesn’t respond. The water isn’t even simmering yet. A teeny, tiny bell jingles somewhere in the distance. The office door stays closed.

Objectively, Will is going insane.

(Subjectively, Will is going insane.) 

The thing is – yeah, he could march right down the hallway, bust down the door, and demand that Mike pay attention to him. He knows this, because he has done it before, and at that, often, and he has a 100% success rate of immediately distracting Mike from whatever it is that he’s doing and getting his undivided attention. It’s not at all a matter of whether or not he can.

It’s that he shouldn’t have to, because he was the one who sat in traffic, and he was the one who had to interact with other people, and he was the one who had to draw the same stupid lion over and over and over again, and he was the one who had to be away from home for nine hours, give or take. He worked all day. He shouldn’t have to work again just to get Mike to welcome him home. 

“Stupid,” he says very neutrally, not at all mad, and the loudest he has yet, speaking in the direction of the hallway, ringing out through the kitchen. Carrie sneezes twice. The water starts letting out a hissing sound from where it sits on the stovetop. A minute passes, bringing his running total up to nine hours and forty five minutes. 

Why would the office door ever even consider opening?

“So much for honey, I’m home,” Will mumbles, scathing, under his breath. The water finally rises to a boil, and he tears the top off of the Kraft box, flinging the torn cardboard somewhere on the counter. He does the same with the little packet of cheese flavor, though this toss is more careful, since he’ll actually need it later. Then he’s pouring the macaroni into the pot, and the office door still hasn’t opened, and he grabs a spoon from the pot they keep next to the stove, and every door in the apartment is still closed, and he starts to stir the noodles around, and there are still no doorknobs turning and hinges creaking and boyfriends leaving their fucking offices.

It’s fine, it’s whatever. Seriously. He’s not even mad, really. Nine hours and forty eight minutes without seeing his boyfriend, but what does it matter, right? Fucking objectively, that’s not even a long time, something most people wouldn’t even blink at–

The office door opens. Several more jingles ring out, timed with every little step Carrie takes to go greet her stupid, sucky dad. Will focuses every ounce of attention into stirring the noodles, and resolutely does not glance in the direction of the hallway. 

Mike coos at the cat. Seriously? Will thinks. 

“You’re home,” Mike says, as if this has not been the case for the last, like, eighteen minutes. And it’s like – okay, Will doesn’t know exactly what time it was when he got home, but eighteen minutes feels super right, and either way, it doesn’t matter, because there were at least nine entire hours before those eighteen minutes where they were forced to be apart by the cruel twist of fate. It’s certainly not Will’s fault that Mike decided to be crueler and twistier by enforcing an additional eighteen minutes onto their sentence.  

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

“Yup,” Will answers, clipped, mouthing popping on the p.

If Mike notices that Will is absolutely-not-at-all-pissed, he doesn’t care. “I missed you,” he says, all soft and sweet, and before Will can tell him to fuck off, because if he really missed Will, he would have been out here eighteen – nineteen – minutes ago, he’s coming up behind him, stepping into his space. His palms come to rest on Will’s lower back, sliding up and over his hips and stomach as his arms come to wrap around Will’s entire middle, pulling him back into Mike’s chest. He hooks his chin over Will’s shoulder, nuzzling into Will’s neck. “What are you making?” he asks, breath puffing out over the exposed skin at his collar. 

Oh, right. This is why he was so mad – the closed door meant he didn’t get this, Mike touching him and talking to him all sweet and lighting up at seeing him. Objectively, it’s a nice thing, to be wanted like this, held like this, loved like this.

Subjectively, he’s still pissed that he could have had this twenty minutes ago. 

“Mac and cheese,” he replies. He is horrified to hear that his own voice mirrors Mike’s, subtle and fond, that harsh edge Mike sidestepped smoothed over just with one touch. 

You’re better than this, he chides, trying desperately to channel the annoyance that has been by his side since he stepped in the door. 

“Gourmet,” Mike teases, swaying them back and forth, still hunched over him from behind. The comment should stoke the flames of his anger, but it’s hard to focus on that blaze when everywhere Mike is touching him feels like a thousand tiny fires of their own, burning and bright and scorching, just like the sunlight earlier. It is hard to be anything but delighted in their warmth.  “Enough for both of us?” 

You’re not, he reminds himself, all of the madness from earlier starting to scorch itself away. You’re really, really not. 

“‘Course,” says Will, light and easy, stirring the noodles. They might almost be done, by now. It doesn’t matter, because they are less interesting than they were thirty seconds ago. He sets the spoon aside and twists in Mike’s arms, lifting both arms up and wrapping them around Mike’s neck. One hand comes up to his nape, thumb brushing through the hair that curls there, while the other hangs off his shoulder, ready to go back to stirring if needed. He allows himself a moment to stare, studying Mike’s face for new freckles or signs of aging that may have happened in their awful, arduous nine hours and forty eight minutes apart. Then, because he has to, he says: “I’ve been home for twenty minutes, you know.”

Mike hums. “Have you, now?” he asks, and there’s a quiver in his lips that is just this side of too amused, and Will hates him, hates him, hates him. 

“Yes,” Will replies, haughty, swiftly reminded of how much Mike sucks, and is the worst, and doesn’t deserve any of the covers tonight. Not even a scrap. “And where were you?”

“I already answered that,” Mike says. His voice has dropped, still soft, but a little rough around the edges. Carrie lets out a mewl by their feet. Will should probably stir the noodles. He doesn’t move, except for his thumb, still tracing a path through Mike’s hair – back and forth, back and forth. 

Will wracks his brain for the answer Mike claims he’s already spoken, but his thoughts are sluggish, gone slow from the exchange of heady oxygen between their faces. He can’t recall anything. 

“When?” he asks, dazed.

Mike lets his smile run loose. “When I said I missed you,” he responds. He runs his own thumb along the dip in the small of Will’s back, the movement searing, even though the wool of his sweater. “That’s where I was. Missing you.”

Objectively, that doesn’t make sense. If he were missing Will, then he would have greeted him at the door, waiting there for Will to get home just the way Will had been hoping he would be from the moment he cut the engine in the parking lot. If he were missing Will, he wouldn’t have let the cat be the first to greet him, wouldn’t have let Will stomp around the kitchen and bang pots around and say the word stupid so many times that it stopped feeling like a word. 

Subjectively, Will stopped caring about the details of it all the moment Mike wrapped his arms around him. 

“Stupid,” Will mutters a final time, just for good measure, before pulling Mike’s face down to meet his.

When their lips brush, every single minute of their nine hours and forty eight minutes apart suddenly becomes worth it – the exile from bed that morning, the repetition of drawing the same cel over and over again, the ticking of the studio clock, the frustrating, non-movement of the traffic on the way home. They were all worth it, because here is Mike, with his chapped lips and his warm hands ready to reward Will for it all, to welcome him home without punctuality, but with a whole lot of personality. His mother’s voice floats back into his head, still soft, still kind: absence makes the heart grow fonder. Will laughs, right into Mike’s mouth, the kiss breaking with it, and thinks, go away, Mom, please, before pressing back into Mike with intention, insistent. Mike lets out a little giggle of his own, breaking it apart a second time.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, mumbling, muffled only because he won’t dismantle the kiss fully, and Will’s own lips are stopping the words before they can get all the way out. 

Will blows out a puff of air, which makes Mike pull back, a bigger laugh spilling out of him. “Stirring the macaroni,” Will answers, because he’s not about to tell Mike that he was thinking about his mom while they were kissing. Before Mike can answer – or call him on his bullshit – Will swivels back around, retrieving the spoon from the counter and giving the macaroni one last, halfhearted stir before he’s moving it off the burner entirely and turning the stovetop off. 

“Very mindful of you,” Mike comments. He stays attached while Will grabs the pot and turns around towards the sink, both of them somehow sidestepping Carrie, who is still hovering by their feet. 

“One of us should be,” Will bites back, but it’s a playful thing, and Mike knows it. Will reaches up to the pot rack that hangs above the sink to grab the strainer, and makes quick work of letting the water wash down the drain. Normally, he’d carry on, would move to grab the butter and milk from the fridge and the abandoned cheese flavor packet from the counter, but Mike is (kind of, very) preventing that, so he leaves the strainer with the noodles in the sink and turns back in his arms, smiling up at him. 

“Yeah?” Mike asks, also clearly not caring about the mac and cheese anymore. He lifts one of his hands to Will’s face and runs his thumb over Will’s upper lip, smoothing over the hair there. “You gonna shave this off, then?”

Will actually does scowl at him, now. “You like the mustache,” he says, and it is meant to be a defense, but it comes out as a demand. 

Mike laughs again. “I like you,” he corrects. His thumb does another pass, sweeping over the hair again before trailing down to Will’s bottom lip. Will shudders. 

“You love me,” Will revises, more correct than Mike’s correction. Mike’s thumb stays on his lip as it moves with the words.

“I love you very much,” Mike confirms. He brings his other hand up to cup at Will’s face, and he cradles it in his hands as he tilts it back so that he can kiss Will again, dry and warm and just as much his home as the walls around them and the cat with her belled collar dancing at their feet and the macaroni sitting in the strainer behind them. He pulls away too soon, but it’s to plant a kiss at the corner the corner of his mouth, the apple of each cheek; to trail them along his jaw, behind his left ear, and then along and behind his right; and all the way, between each one, two words: “Welcome home.” 

Objectively, he’s a little late with the sentiment.Objectively, the macaroni is getting cold, and it’s going to be hard to mix in the cheese flavor. Objectively, just like one of her fathers, Carrie is quickly approaching the point where she is not going to take kindly to getting ignored much longer.

Subjectively, Will doesn’t care, and pulls Mike’s mouth back to his.

#byler #byler ficlet #byler fic #byler fanfiction #wiseatom minis #i did NOT fucking edit this so please ignore any typos or grammar mistakes i will fix them in the morning #i have to be up for work in 4 hours hahahee #btw their cat's name is carrie fisher lol but i think it's funny when cats have ppl names and so i kept her on a first name basis #also fun fact this is 3k and mike doesn't even show up until halfway thru <3 #silence mike wheeler 2k23 (jokes) #if you enjoyed you are free to send me more prompts from tht list!

[cometapollo]

Opinion on Derek Goffard?

You ether hate him or love him, no in-between

(Also Yk anyone that could write/draw me some Derek fluff and or submissive Goffard) FOR A FRIEND OFC.

I love him

I wanna break his dick like a glowstick- just take it in my hands and just CRACK

he gives me the Strade Instinct lmfao

also i could totally draw fluffy derek and write submissive derek or anyone else if someone so asked

#i can only write nsf-w so dont even ask for me to draw it #drawing it makes me uncomfortable #i can draw sfw tho so ask away on that :3 #ask #anonymous #derek goffard #tpof derek #ignore any typos or grammar mistakes i am literally just now waking up #i dont even have my glasses on yet

[bylertruther]

sorry, but i can't stop thinking about how enzo said "right, she saves your life because of friendship 🙄😏" to hop regarding joyce in the season that they're going through the same plot that mike went through in season one (where he's going to extremes to find will and stopping at nothing to save him, knowing all the while it could have killed him and his friends) and as lucas + max are going through the literal exact same plot as mike and will did in season two (where will is cursed/possessed by vecna and mike is at his side the entire way through, unwilling to let him go through this alone).

mike and will came out on the other side both times. mike didn't HAVE to go out, endanger himself, his friends, and his family to find will. he didn't HAVE to spend his every waking moment of that week desperately doing whatever it took to find will, even when others had given up hope. but he did it anyway. why? because of friendship? lucas and dustin are will's best friends, too. they joined the fight, they devoted themselves, too, but not like mike did. not even jonathan, who loves will more than anything, had that much unwavering hope and dedication. why?

in season two, mike didn't HAVE to glue himself to will's side and treat him in such an attentive and fiercely protective manner. he didn't HAVE to trail after will, attune himself to his each and every tell, or comfort him as much as he did. he didn't HAVE to go to will's house when he failed to go to school and strong-arm his way in when joyce tried to send him away. he didn't HAVE to stick by his side as it became clear that will was no longer just will, that there was an indescribable and otherworldly evil sitting within him, too. he didn't HAVE to stay at his bedside, both at home and at the laboratory, rousing from his sleep and immediately tending to will whenever he woke up. he didn't HAVE to follow them into the shed, where it was only them and this will that isn't will. he didn't HAVE to pour his heart out in front of everyone and set it in will's lap, pleading with him to please, please, please come back. no one forced him or prompted him to do this, as we've seen them do in seasons three and four, but he did it anyway; without hesitation and entirely earnest. lucas, dustin, and max all wanted to save will, too. they cared, of course they did, but not to the extent that mike did. mike was there from beginning to end and refused to be away from him until it was absolutely necessary. even then, he devised a plan to help, because of course he did. again, it was dangerous, risky, and there was no guarantee it would work. still, he did it anyway. why?

furthermore, when it comes to lucas and max going through the same plot that mike and will did, theirs failed to turn out the same way. mike is the only character on this show who has been able to pull someone out of a curse with just his voice. mike is the one that snapped will out of it whenever he used true sight. mike is the one that always finds him whenever he runs off, because he knows will better than anyone. it's after mike tells will that asking him to be his friend is the best thing he's ever done that will is seen communicating in morse code, having found his way to fight back and show that he's still there. mike has always seen will and understood him in a way that others don't. mike is the one that has repeatedly found vecna's weaknesses and devised plans to exploit them and hurt him, and had those plans actually work.

the show itself has painstakingly shown us from the very beginning that mike and will's relationship is different. it isn't like any other friendship or romantic relationship they have within the party. they show us the endless, unconditional, and unwavering devotion that mike has for will by putting them on these journeys that last entire seasons. they set the tone for the show and propel the plot forward.

those same journeys are then given to other characters that are in explicitly romantic relationships. many of the pivotal scenes for those relationships "coincidentally" happen to be frame-by-frame or direct dialogue parallels to previous byler scenes. yet... for whatever reason... the general audience seems to find the idea of byler to be impossible and nonsensical?

why is it that when joyce endangers her and her friend's lives and risks the very real possibility of not being able to go back home to her family to find hopper, it's seen as romantic, but when mike does it for will it's just friendship?

why is it that when hopper tells joyce that he just wants her to feel safe and does everything in his power to ensure that, it's considered romantic, but when mike tells will over and over that he won't let him get hurt and does the very same thing it's just friendship?

why is it that when hopper sleeps outside of joyce's house just in case she needs him and to not let her sit in this sorrow alone, it's considered romantic, but when mike sleeps on the floor beside will's bed after he learns of his possession and sleeps at his bedside at the lab after it's just friendship?

why is it that when nancy says she and jonathan are just friends that everyone understands they aren't, but when mike reiterates that he and will are friends, despite their conversation not being about romance at all, it's seen as something purely platonic, true, and not at all suspicious?

why would other romantic relationships on the show have frame-by-frame parallels in their undoubtedly romantic and pivotal scenes to previous mike and will scenes if byler isn't romantic?

why would they show us that mike is in a relationship where he is not understood or comfortable expressing his true self, and then have him tell will how it is that he needs to be loved and seen, only to then have will express that he does understand, see, and love mike in precisely the way that he needs and feels he does not deserve, if they are not romantic? why would they then have will reveal that mike's love for him is exactly what he needs, too, if not to show us that the love is there and it is real and that they're each other's true match?

why would they make mike himself finally state that his relationship with will is different from all of his others, that will is what makes home feel like home (and thus, by extension, is mike's home), that it's what makes life feel normal and right and easier, and that he wants it back, if it's all just friendship and nothing more? why is their relationship the one that he just can't lose? why is will the one person that he needs more than anyone?

why does he fight to keep this relationship in his life time and time and time again, each and every single season, but he is able to let eleven go every time? why does he abandon all respect for authority and whatever warnings people throw his way when it comes to saving will, but he is able to sit at home when it comes to eleven, his girlfriend? why does he intuitively understand what will needs from him and unashamedly provide it without will ever having to ask, but he cannot do the same for his other friends or his girlfriend? why does he allow himself to truly open up, talk, and be vulnerable and true with will, but not anyone else, not even his own family or his girlfriend? why is it always, always, always will... if it's just friendship?

why do we correctly assign romantic love and intention to the other heterosexual couples on the show, but when it's one boy loving another boy with everything he has and in every possible way that he can... suddenly that's just friendship?

i know that an overwhelming amount of people refuse to see their relationship as romantic because of homophobia and heteronormativity, but after a certain point... it just becomes ridiculous. inexplicable; an offensive bastardization and gross perversion of the original text.

byler is the blueprint. byler is the heart and light of the show. they're the original copy, the first to love and be loved. at this point, post-season four, if you fail to see that then that is a choice all of your own making. i'm tired of pretending like byler is built on subtext. it isn't. not anymore. not when m/f couples are doing the exact same thing that byler did first in precisely the same way. not when everything has been set up to show us what love and light can do, and which characters represent that love and light. not when the narrative is shoving it in your face for hours, reminding you with these characters' each and every action and inaction which other character it is that they love and choose. i'm over it.

byler is endgame. byler has been endgame. the love that they have for each other has never once lost; it has beaten the overwhelming odds each and every single time, a record which not all relationships can claim, and it will be what puts vecna in the ground for good and rids hawkins of all evil in season five. there is no other narrative but the one we've been given and to assume anything else is to purposely delude yourself tbh.

#byler #mine #like im LITERALLYYYYYY done bro im DONE #i was sitting n thinking and i was like .... #literally WHAT ship has byler NOT been paralleled to #WHAT plot has any other romantic ship had tht sealed their fate as being romantic / proved their romance that byler HASNT had too #it literally makes no sense to think they would do all of that OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN #sometimes even literally frame by frame or the same dialogue just slightly tweaked #if byler wasnt romantic #it is. it HAS been. they literally did it FIRST #crazy together existed before the show had even been CAST #this has been PLANNED over YEARSSSSSSS #bc it goes all the way to the beginning #like. please for the love of fuck be serious #we are Not the crazy ones here just because we actually watch the show and remember the shit that happens #anyway. wrote this on my phone so there is no way in hell im rereading #if there are typos or grammar mistakes galore or i never finished a sentence then too bad<3 read my post boy !

[cloudiness]

Here’s Carlos’s interview for Sky Italia right after the France GP 2022; you’ll find the translated transcript right under the cut.

Unfortunately I had to record this from my tv screen because I couldn’t find it anywhere else but I wanted to share it because Carlos is pretty happy and they also share some laughs..sorry for any mistake or typo, I was kinda in a rush and Davide Valsecchi speaks his own language which is impossible to translate..anyway, ENJOY! ✨🌶

( @whosays75 eccola qui, ho avuto qualche giorno di inferno ma alla fine ce l’ho fatta..qualità salutiamola ma dettagli)

(you can see I’ve put timestamps here and there just so that you can follow along if you need to)

Federica Masolini: Charles Leclerc..microphone…did I say Sainz? I said Sainz..?

Carlos Sainz: You said Leclerc

FM: Because I was reading the rankings, you’re fourth, one point over Russel, did you have water(during the race)? Was is difficult from a physical point of view?

00:18 

CS: I didn’t drink because we are a bit overweight and so I decided to not have the..

FM: Water bag (she said literally ‘canteen’ but we know it’s a bag)

CS: The water bag, because I don’t sweat that much so I’d rather be a tenth faster but it was really hot, especially in the beginning with the ‘hards’, the tyres were very hot, it was really difficult to overtake but then I changed them with the ‘mediums’ and from then on I was faster, I did some good overtaking, I even got to the first positions and then it happened whatever happened but I’m happy of my race.

FM: Could you recount your overtakes with us? Because Davide Valsecchi was particularly excited(while watching he race), I’d start from the one over Russel, with Davide, give us your comment on it.

00:59

Davide Valsecchi: Yes, take a look here because about the one with Russel we said there was pride, aggressiveness,  determination, around the outside at “Signes”, when you’re there the standard is to let the gas go but you pushed it, did it just feel right?

CS: Yes, here I followed his wake then I was beside him and I pushed him a little towards the right side to give him less corner so that I then was on the outside; it was difficult because it wasn’t clean, there was a lot of sand, but we did good, and here you’ll see that I star off good at turn 9 then follow the wake, battery, almost touching his rear tyre, here I pushed him towards the right side of the track to then have more corner and make it, in dire straits(referred to the gesture he makes with the hand under his chin) but I made it. 

DV: Bravo!

FM: How much does this kind of overtaking excites you during the race?

1:46 

CS: There’s adrenaline, there’s a lot of adrenaline, it’s amazing and it’s the reason why I love F1, this kind of moments, right? (These moments) That give you this happiness while driving, that knowing feeling that you’re doing something really dangerous, really extraordinary, that’s what I live for, no? That’s why I’m a driver.

FM: “Da WOW!”(literally ‘something that makes you say wow’) as Marc Genè(one of the commentators) would say, and then we have the one with Perez!

2:11 

CS: Da WOW *laughs*

DV: You didn’t make it around the outside there

CS: No

DV: I mean, you tried but they(Redbull) are faster than Mercedes and you had to give up, but I wonder, after, at this moment, where you are on the outside, he did a move on you, right? before the exit?

2:26 

CS: Yes, this overtake was really difficult because putting yourself in that position is already a hard thing to do but from here we then had like 7/8 turns were we were driving alongside..how do say it?

FM: Alongside

CS: Alongside each other, and you have to think that we were going 250 km/h, 7 turns at 250 Km/h are wonderful and to make them with Checo it’s always an honor because he’s a driver who always respects space and I always had him in my spot…where I couldn’t see him, how do you say it?

2:57 

FM: CIECO! (literally means “BLIND” and it’s pronounced just like ‘Checo’ in Spanish)

CS: Yes, PUNTO CIECO! (blindspot) 

FM: Precisely

*they all laugh because of the involuntary play on words*

CS: And here you see that I can’t do like I did with Russel because he(Perez) has much more speed but here I manage to keep him on the outside, he leaves me space, here we touch a bit and I attempt the overtake around the outside

DV: This idea of cutting the corners, I don’t know when it came to you, but this idea of cutting forced him to close(the trajectory) and made it so that you have inverted the trajectory 

CS: Yes here I keep inverting the trajectory to give me clean air and here he closes, we almost touch, I went on the right and then I threw the car towards the outside to then be on the inside here, it was really wonderful.

DV: Great move!

3:38 

FM: And you also had the strength to talk during this overtake, did you realize that?

CS: *Laughs* In that moment I was fighting for P3 so I told myself if I have to stop and lose 32 seconds it doesn’t matter if it’s now or the next lap so just let me finish this overtake…

FM: Let me have fun!

CS: I wanted to have fun but then they asked me to stop.

4:00

Carlo Vanzini: We also had a lot of fun watching you, I have a question, were you also thinking about the DRS? Because when you went on to the straight you had the DRS and you were just in the right spot to then attack him.

CS: Yes, I was.

CV: That was the real magic.

CS: Yes, I had to take everything into consideration because I knew that if I came first at the DRS line he was going to catch me on the straight. I did good, I wanted to be on the inside to overtake but not too forward so that I could have the DRS, it all worked perfectly and I did it.

CV: If I can ask another thing to Carlos, do you guys think you now have the best car overall?

CS: In quali yes, I think that we’ve proven it in many races that we can take the pole positions with this car, in the race it depends, it changes every race; we are now at the tenth one fighting with Redbull and in Austria for whatever reason we were faster and we had less tyre degradation, in the race before Charles and Max were almost equal, before that one they(Redbull) were faster, earlier we were faster…during the race it’s always pretty close but in the flying lap this car is really strong.

FM: Have you spoken with Charles yet?

CS: No, it’s really too bad for him but we all make mistakes, I made some at the beginning of the year and people were mean to me because they looked like stupid mistakes but, trust me, we’re driving these cars to the limit, right at the front, it’s not easy; we are pushing a lot and when I say a lot I mean A LOT, we are taking many risks and these things can happen, once or even twice a year, it might happen even to Max next in this season, and I completely understand how this kind of things can happen.

FM: Mattia told us “I’ll ask the boys to smile while looking at the data of this car, we have 10 more races to win and above all we have a 1-2 to make in Hungary”

CS: Yes, that would be amazing, it’s what we’re aiming for because we have the car, we just need to keep believing that it’s possible.

FM: Thank you

CS: Thank you

FM: Ciao Carlos, congrats! Grazie to Carlos Sainz, amazing race for him!

#carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz jr. #f1 #i don't even know how to tag this #let me know if something's not clear or big typos and grammar mistakes #videos #video #mine

[disdaidal]

Sometimes I really kind of envy you native English speakers who make writing and posting fics seem so fucking easy. With near perfect grammar and hardly any typos. Or those of you who are capable of writing & updating your fics whenever the muse hits you just right... and not like, once in six months. Actually, try two years lol.

Whereas me, a non-native speaker, who occasionally struggles even with basic English grammar:

I'm fine. Totally.

#personal #okay so i've been writing this one piece of fiction for a while now #actually two but i've seemed to put the other one on hold for a while at least #(i may have mentioned this already like five times during the past two weeks but my point is i'm still working on it) #many thanks to @ihni who recently gave me some words of encouragement <3 and ofc @catzy88 who gave me even more insp *saatananauru* #and i'm actually really kind of enjoying it because there's no pressure to write it and post it #i write it in small sections. whenever i feel like it. giving myself enough time to plan it and think about it. even getting new ideas #and for once i'm trying not to keep editing and fixing it as i go. i just write whatever crap comes to my mind and just let it flow #i try not to think about how many mistakes and typos i make because that way i'm never gonna get it finished #but at the same time... when it's finally time to go through it #fix typos. missing words. possibly poor grammar. i know i'm just gonna hate it so fucking much lmao #but i'm really trying my best here okay. and i'm trying not to rush it. for once #because i used to write like this as a teenager. when there was nowhere really to post your original stories (thank god for that) #so i did it in my notebooks. and i quite enjoyed it doing that way #and i'm not sure why i'm even rambling this because most of you are never gonna read it anyway lol. so who gives right #but it matters to me and i'm feeling good about writing again so here i am rambling about it. no matter if you care not. so cheers mateys <

[richardgrimes]

you wanna know something about my sister well almost 4 years ago when she was around 4 or 5 she wanted me to turn spongebob off and i was like no if i’m gonna be watching tv out here with you it’s gonna be spongebob cause i enjoy it and she was like i’m going to pee on you and i was like sure whatever. well so i’m lying on the couch and she stands over me and i think nothing of it until warm liquid lands on my head. the child PEED. ON MY HEAD.

#THE FKCING GALL OMGMYNBGYTFFHDJKG #20 year old me: THREW HANDS WITH A 4 YEAR OLD #and I HAD JUST TAKEN A SHOW MY HAIR WAS LITERALLY HADN;T EVEN DRIED FROM THE SHOWER #and i had to wait for my mom to come home cause i couldn't wash it cause i was home alone watching her. esugrywujsjhesjgujfdkjl; #just read all the typos and grammar mistakes in that one tag. appalled

[faerociousbeast]

3 of my 4 teachers are bohemian hippie white women with motivational quotes all over the walls

#and not like. the normal kind #my guitar teacher.... well she is a guitar teacher #but anyways. idek how to explain it theres one above my spot thats like #'MAY may be COLD... but i am WARM. WHY? because i have HER ❤' wtf does that even meam #my third period teacher made us watch a video about how YOU are YOU and that means YOU are UNIQUE! #that had a bajillion typos and 27 views which. Im assuming were all my teacher herself #and my english teacher. yeah she had the vsco girl stickers and the aesthetic slideshow except she fucking made spelling mistakes #DURING A GRAMMAR WORKSHEET WE HAD TO DO???? STRAIGHT UP I THOUGHT SHE MEANT WE HAVE TO EDIT HER SLIDESHOW 😭 #IM SORRY

[mali-umkin]

Surprised by this edition because out of 90 pages, there are at least three big spelling and grammar mistakes. One is a big typo. It's Les Éditions de Minuit. How?

#Reading #Bernard-Marie Koltès #Mistakes happen but in my experience they're quite rare in books #Three is enormous #And one being a grammar mistake is even more intriguing bc it's not just a typo then

[wolfnight2012]

rereading my own fic every time I get a comment like Narcissus eternally caught by his own reflection

#to be fair i'll probably skim it if its one of my 10k+ fics/chapters #but its still a lot #& an excellent way of finding every single typo/grammar mistake i missed during editing 😔 #so far this has onlt made me dislike 1 of my fics #but i already knew it was my weakest one even before publishing it #it was rushed & my shortest fic yet #but the rest? 👌👌 (if i do say so myself) #you'd think i'd get tired of skimming the same 5 (now 6) fics but you'd be wrong! #wolf's posts #never you mind

[ellievenus]

Horny thoughts. That’s it.

Characters: Lyney & Neuvillette x Gender Neutral! Reader.

NSFW! MDNI

A/N: I did the quest, they made me horny. that’s it, this is messy and not proofread so please ignore any grammar mistakes or typos. literally no plot just goes in.

Lyney is the type to like wall sex, like hold onto one of your legs and fuck you onto the wall as you try to stifle your moans under your shaking hands, as the people of fontaine move in the bustling streets while you’re getting your hole ruined…

he definitely puts a hand on your thigh, and winks at you before moving his hand up… up… and up to your sex at such a slow pace that it makes you want to grip his hair and yank his smug face into it and show him what happens when he teases you…

but you can’t, not when you’re having tea and macarons with Navia, and he fucking knows that, just smiles when you let out a gasp and Navia worries, asking if you’re okay. “Oh don’t worry!” he says, with his charming smile and a tinge of tease in his tone, “They just couldn’t sleep last night!”

and whose fault was that?!

you wish you could flip the table on him.

He loves going down on you, so much so that you’re starting to think he enjoys that more than fucking you… all whines, pleading for you to cum, he just wants to taste you, fucking drown in you until he forgets who he is, until his senses are nothing but you, you and you.

Grips your thighs, makes sure to keep his nails a little long so he can dig them in your thighs and hear you hiss, also loves grabbing your ass and pushing you even more to his face when you’re cumming.

Looking up at you with cum on his face or dripping from his lips or both, loves being branded by you.

“So that magic show special I was talking abou—“

“I am NOT letting you go down on me on a stage!”

Neuvillette only likes having sex in your shared bedroom, you can drag him to your bathroom if he’s in a good mood but that’s it.

Still, that man knows how to fuck all and any attitude from you, if you have any. Loves seeing you crying and begging if you’re so good for him. Either way, you’re getting overstimulated, he always makes sure you cry or beg in some form. He likes it.

He likes light bondage, loves cuffing your wrists, or holding your hands above your head while he’s giving you a pounding that makes you see stars behind your eyes and knocks all the air out of your poor body that you have to cry out for a break.

Loves seeing how your expressions change depending on what he’a doing, likes seeing your reactions, it gets him harder than anything else.

The way your eyes widen in surprise, letting out a gasp when he doesn’t stop fucking you after you both came, you whine and cry, you babble on about how can he not even lose tempo and keep going with his thrusts as if he didn’t just cum in you.

Cute. You’re so cute.

Also into spanking, if you want it, just tell him, you don’t have to misbehave. Though, he isn’t gonna fuck you until you cum on his lap from his hand striking your ass until it’s so sore and numb that you can’t feel it for a few days.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact lyney #genshin impact neuvillette #lyney x reader #lyney x you #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut

[griffsursparker]

it really feels unfortunate that i, someone who reads a lot of fanfic, is driven so crazy by the tiniest of grammatical errors. like hello brain this is not helpful i'm trying to enjoy my fanfic

#i'm not even talking like the really bad ones lmao i mean mistakes that are honestly probably just mostly typos and stuff #like fuck my fics aren't any better tbh #but if the grammar is flat out bad i can ignore it #but when it's 90% good the little errors make me all twitchy #i just wanna proofread ur fics for you pls fic authors /hj

[shemaycry]

Girl, I'm into it, I'm into it, I'm into it. RYOMEN SUKUNA

SUMMARY ୨˚̣̣̣୧ periods are shitty, annoying punishments for not getting pregnant. luckily, sukuna is sweet enough to help the pain.

　 ྀི　𓂃 period sex. so descriptions of blood, if you don’t like that please don’t read the fic. | semi mean dom! sukuna | ooc sukuna | rough sex | squirting | minor anal play | multiple orgasms | praise & degradation | sukuna mocks reader’s moans | breeding kink | mentions of getting reader pregnant | dacryphilia | etc.

NOTE ୨˚̣̣̣୧ i’m currently on my period & i also find period sex hot asf so there you go. i know a few people don’t like it, so if you are one of them— turn away! this was originally gonna be either noritoshi or choso (blood techniques) but i decided on sukuna 🫶🏾 please excuse typos & grammar mistakes i posted this late!

“Damnit woman, which one is it?”

“Sukuna, I sent a fucking picture for a reason!” You yelled down the phone, eyebrows pinched close as annoyance flooded through your body. Between your lover’s idiotic tendencies and the fact it felt like a hundred soldiers were tap dancing on your uterus— you had little care if your words were rude.

Still, the man gave a sharp watch your tone; before turning the phone to allow you to see the display case of pads.

“Just tell me which one, so I can leave already.”

You sucked your teeth, bringing the phone closer and squinting at the screen. You couldn’t be entirely mad at the man, given he went to the store for you graciously with only a single eye roll. A few of your female friends don’t have the same luck with their partners. But still, what was so hard about looking at the picture you sent— and then grabbing that pack?

A soft huff escaped, “That one.. it’s uh— the purple one. Long with wings.”

You watched as his tatted hand reached for the correct pack, even pushing it into the camera for further confirmation.

“These are huge..”

You felt warmth flood through your cheeks, giving a sharp just buy the damn pads, before ending the call. You tossed your phone to the side, turning to curl up into a ball whilst your arms hugged your stomach. Soft groans escaped you with each cramp, attempting to find a comfortable position to get into.

You tried a heating pad, a hot shower, and even pills to minimize the pain— and yet, it still remained. At the same exact intensity as it was this morning.

Another groan escaped you, body turning to lay on your stomach and your face into your pillow. The softness of your towel grazed your stomach and bare thighs, the only comforting thing at the moment.

Whilst delving in your own misery, the bedroom door opened, revealing your loving boyfriend and the bag of pads.

Sukuna took one look at your helpless state and laughed to himself, tossing the bag to the edge of the bed. “Cramps kicking your ass, huh?”

You could only groan, rolling onto your back and sinking into the bed. You glanced at the man, spotting his back to you as he snatched the black hoodie off his body; revealing his tattooed back. Your eyes then flicked to the ceiling, lids fluttering shut.

“I tried a shower.. pills, everything Kuna. This sucks..”

“Tried an orgasm?”

You gave a soft sound of disapproval. You were aware of the method, the pleasant feeling sure to rid you of your cramps— but the thought of such a mess wasn’t something you were into. Nor did you think Sukuna was in, either.

Until.. a tight lock around your ankle caused your thoughts to cease, gasping as you were suddenly dragged towards the edge of the bed. Your eyes flew open, staring up at the man who was currently situating your legs onto his hips.

“Sukuna, what..”

“You’re gonna keep complaining about the cramps, might as well get rid of them.” Sukuna claimed, acting as if it was the most obvious thing ever. He leaned down, lips finding yours in an instant, a heated kiss being shared between the two of you.

Your hands found his shoulders, sliding across his bare hot skin— groaning the moment his thick, wet muscle intruded your mouth. Naturally your hands were sliding up, fingers curling into his pink tresses for leverage. Despite how good the kiss was, your mind couldn’t shake the nervousness that surrounded you. Having sex on your period just seemed like a mess waiting to happen.

Surely Sukuna would get grossed out, right? But.. he did offer. You were going through the motions, weighing the options, and absentmindly pulling away from the kiss. You hadn’t realized until a sharp voice interrupted your thinking once more.

“Always thinking so damn hard..” Sukuna spoke, pushing his hips forward. The man grinned as your hand fell to his waist, watching you stifle a quiet groan. He began to reach down, gripping your wrist and yanking it up to press against the bed. The glint in his eyes was all too familiar, something that always caused a heat of warmth to spread throughout your body.

Yet, that still wasn’t enough to shake the anxiety.

“Sukuna..” You gasped as the man moved closer, finding your neck to kiss and nip. Your stomach was stirring, arousal pooling between your legs. “— it’s.. a mess, baby. Are you su—?”

“Would I be touching you if I wasn’t sure?” He interrupted, his free hand gliding down the plane of your body. Without hesitation the man was breaching your shorts and panties, spreading your wet folds to rub at your clit. “Keep interrupting me..” Sukuna warned, biting at your throat— causing you to whine.

Your hips rose into the feeling, his two thick digits rubbing tight circles onto your swelling bud. Your arousal was building, surely soiling both his hand and shorts— but neither of you cared in the moment. Instead, Sukuna seemed to chase this; gliding his fingers down to sink into your entrance, easily.

Plunging inside, curling at your spongy walls— your legs were opening wider as the pleasure began to consume your body, dulling your mind. You hadn’t even realized your hand was free until you felt him flip your shirt up and grab your breast. His thumb brushed across your nipple, it hardening under his touch and the cool air.

Sukuna continued to tweak the hardened bud, scissoring his fingers inside of you all while a grin played at his lips. “You were so against it just a second ago, and yet..” His eyes dipped to where his hand currently was, a third finger pushing inside to meet his other two. “— you’re moving your hips so eagerly.”

Your moans were more vocal at this point, pitching into whines each time his fingers curled to press against that special spot. Your stomach clenched with each thrust, feeling a pressure build inside of you. “K—kuna, mm..!” You could barely speak, hand gripping the towel underneath you as you began to fuck your self on his fingers. A difficult task given the position, but one the man definitely encouraged.

“Mm.. that’s it, keep ruining yourself on my fingers, sweetheart.” Sukuna was clearly enjoying this more than you, leaning down to swipe his tongue across your bud just to watch you shiver. You were sensitive, painfully so, that each movement had you trembling as if he had touched you hundred times. His watchful eyes were eating it all, casting an image to save for a later date.

Soon enough the pressure was forming, becoming too much like a bubble ready to burst. Your head leaned back into the bed, lips parted as soft whines escaped. “Su—sukuna, fuck, fuck! I’m close—!” Your back arched the moment his thrusts became more intense, a blinding white passing through your eyes before you came— legs shaking around his form.

Sukuna’s fingers slowed but didn’t stop, mixing up your fluids and throughly fucking you through your high. The man ignored your sensitive whines until he was satisfied, pulling his fingers out soon after. Your lover was unfazed by the red mess staining his tattooed appendage, simply wiping it against the towel underneath. “Made such a mess..”

“Don’t make make fun of me, Sukuna. That was embarrassing enough.”

Your boyfriend grinned, fingers hooking onto your shorts and panties to slowly tug down. “Embarrassing? I wouldn’t know, given how much you were moaning just a minute ago.” The cackle he released was downright maniacal, tossing your clothes to the side whilst going for his own.

Your body was hot, cheeks puffed as you attempted to glare at him. “Whateve—er..” Your words dragged the moment his cock began to tap against your clit, the man gliding it along your slit carefully.

“You say something?” Sukuna mocked, a hand reaching to your thigh and pushing you up farther onto the bed. He continued to glide himself between your folds, watching your stomach tense each time his tip made contact with your sensitive bud.

The anticipation was welling inside your stomach, fingers gripping the towel as you rose to grind against him— gasping the moment he began to enter you. Sukuna fed you inch by inch slowly, pushing deep into you whilst the reddened arousal was tainted his cock. The thought of doing this.. was gross, weird, and something you definitely wouldn’t do.

But now? While in the act. The only thing you could think about was how good he was stretching you; filling you up so easily and then some. Your legs were shaking around him, his name falling for your lips in a honeyed gasp as you slowly became adjusted.

Sukuna leaned over your body, a hand falling to your throat to direct you; forcing eye contact. “Don’t go dumb yet, I just started.” He grinned, rising you up a bit to snatch your lips in a deep kiss— while pulling his hips back at the same time.

The first thrust was always so deep and harsh, making your legs bounce and your thoughts go slack. Within a minute, Sukuna started a bruising pace inside; fucking you deep into the mattress all while kissing you so sweetly. The differences were making your head spin, unable to focus on a complete feeling before the other fought to take over.

You breathed heavily into his mouth, struggling to keep up with his tongue all while his length fucked into you. His hand suddenly fell from your neck down to your thigh, gripping it tightly and pushing it up.

The raise position caused your head to fall back into the bed, moans escaping you freely as your trembling hand suddenly fell to his waist. “Sh—shit.. Kuna, hah..! Feels so good, fuck—!”

Your cries were music to his ears, even enjoying the way your pretty manicured fingers dragged across his lower stomach with each thrust.

Sukuna leaned even closer, using his body weight to fold you like some damn chair. The stretch in your muscles washed away with each slam into your messy cunt, your walls clinging to him as a desperate pressure formed in your stomach. Your words were jumbling together, moans broken as tears welled in your eyes.

The man grinned at the display, cock twitching in your wet sex with each thrust. “Can’t even fucking think, can you? Should have fucked you dumb like this earlier..” Sukuna claimed, a hand falling between the two of you to press against your stomach. He felt himself inside you, his ego swelling more and more.

You were so close now, back arching up off the bed as your legs trembled. The band inside you was growing thinner and thinner, desperate moans escaping your lips.

And yet, Sukuna stopped suddenly— right when you were about to hit your peak. You felt the disappointment crash down on you in an instant, glaring up at the man with glossy eyes.

“Su—sukuna, why would you do that?!” You whined, feeling your irritation grow when you noticed the grin on his face.

Instead of replying, however, Sukuna leaned up from his previous position; your legs falling to his hips. In one swift movement he was switching you onto your stomach, hooking his arms under your legs to bring you to your knees.

Before you could think he was sinking back inside of you, hand sliding to your back to arch you even further. This position left you far too vulnerable, the man fucking you into the mattress with no way to move away or escape.

Your face was mushed against the wet towel and sheets, crumbling them within your hands as desperate, pleasurable cries escaped you. He was stirring with up inside, hips slamming against your ass and causing your body to shake.

Sukuna’s hands laid a bruising grip on your hips, eyes focused on your body. He was entranced by it; the recoil of your ass, the way a creamy ring was forming around the base of his dick, and the way you not so subtly tried to move away from the thrusts.

“Oh, is it too much, brat? You want me to slow down don’t you?..” Like he would. You and him both knew that wasn’t going to happen. The knowledge solidifying the moment his hand rose to grab a nice handful of your braids, gently tugging to get you onto your hands.

“..Messy fucking pussy— don’t try to run, take this dick.”

You cried out as his free hand suddenly slammed against your cheek, the stinging pain shooting right between your legs; increasing your arousal. Your walls were clinging to him, clenching each time his tip brushed against that perfect spot inside you.

The man suddenly released your hand, your body falling to the bed as he continued to fuck into you. Sukuna’s large hands fell to your cheeks, separating them for the perfect look. “Mm.. shouldn’t neglect this hole either.” Your lover suddenly dragged in a soft tone, one you nearly didn’t catch. Until his thumb was suddenly sliding against your puckered hole, pushing in carefully.

The sudden intrusion caused your body to lunge, shaking as whines escaped you. His free hand massaged your ass as if to soothe you, continuing to push it in until he reach the knuckle.

The foreign sensation took a moment, tight entrance clenching around the digit. But the moment you relaxed, a new found pleasure washing over you; your arousal increasing, and dripping all down his cock.

“Sukuna.. fuck! Please, please, please—!” You were pleading so loudly now, tears trickling down your cheeks, as you rutted back against him; pushing your ass into his lower stomach.

Sukuna grinned at this, leaning over your body; hitting your deep all while mocking your moans right in your ear. “Clenchin’ me so damn much, fucking close aren’t you? Bet you wanted this even more then I did, such a damn freak..” His words came out in a soft hiss, slamming himself deep as his cock twitched, his own climax quickly approaching.

You gripped the sheets, back arched into his hot body as broken babbles of his name escaped. Within minutes you were cumming, making a complete mess on both him and underneath you.

Yet his hips never stopped, the intensity never dulling despite your body going slack against the bed. You whined as the sensitivity began to grow, fisting the blankets for leverage.

“Fu—fuck, Sukuna— I can’t..”

“You can.. was being so fucking good for me, don’t stop now.” Sukuna groaned, fingers digging into you as his thrusts became desperate. “Milkin my dick, shit— want me to fill you up, don’t you? Maybe even put a baby in this pretty fucking stomach, so you won’t have to worry about cramps.”

The thought caused your head to spin, unable to say a word and instead nodding repeatedly. Sukuna chuckled at this for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed, pushing himself deep before releasing inside.

Heavy pants covered the room as you came down from your highs, a sharp groan escaping you as he removed both his thumb and length from within you. Your hips lowered to the bed, cheek brushing against the blankets.

As your legs moved, the sticky feeling between them caused you to cringe— tilting to glance at the man.

“Sukuna..”

He grinned a little at you, hand smoothing across your back. “Yeah, yeah.. I’ll help you clean up.”

comments & reblogs are appreciated

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