#i dunno man im feeling emotional | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thestarsarebrightertonight · 17 days

Text

thats that me espresso!! // theodore nott x fem reader

playlist: espresso - sabrina carpenter

summary : theodore nott hasnt slept in days, and it was for one reason only. (or one person)

fluff , hufflepuff reader , y/n , short

lucky girl syndrome!! (another theo fic) masterlist

rubbing his eyes wearily , theodore nott poked at his breakfast , feeling the eyes of concerened friends burning into him.

"what?" he asked blankly finally looking up at his friends.

"theo is something wrong?" lorenzo asked with genuine concern snaking through his face and tone.

"yes something- no someone is wrong!" theodore said angrily as he dropped his fork , "i have not slept well for days!"

"why?" draco asked , not really that bothered by theodores insomnia , just wanting to get the tired vibe out of the friendgroup.

"because..beacause!" he started before pausing each time , finally sighing and saying in a hushed voice ,"her!"

his whisper shout and eyes staring into the distance made the whole friend group follow his eyeline , landing on a hufflepuff girl talking to her friends , y/n.

"stop staring!" he said loudly making the whole group turn back to him , drawing their eyes away from the girl , eventhough theodore himself didnt look away.

"y/n? what has she done?" lorenzo asked , confused why his hufflepuff friend would be causing theodore struggle.

"great , of course youre on a first name basis with her!" theodore seethed in jealousy finally tearing his eyes away from your smiling face , "shes not really....done anything.. God i dont know shes like an espresso , i cant look at her without getting a burst of energy! and i cant stop thinking about her its keeping me up all fucking night!!"

the group watched as theodore ranted , exchanging knowing looks before pansy decided to speak up , "theodore dont get angry with that poor girl , its not her fault you like her!"

"how could i ever get angry with her," theodore muttered and stopped talking , until matteos laugh filled the short silence , "what are you laughing at dickhead!" theodore snapped , assuming matteo was laughing at him.

"oh nothing im just laughing at diggory trying to chat up your girl," matteo smirked watching everyone frantically look back to the hufflepuff girl , only to see that she was still sat and talking with her friends , cedric no where to be seen.

theodore , who had stood up in a panic smacked matteo on the back of the head and angrily snapped at the laughing boy, "shut up man not funny."

"sorry , sorry youre really gulible ," matteo laughed to himself , draco smirking at the two.

"i shoudlve never told you lot ," theodore grumbled himself , going back to poking his food.

"dont be like that theo , just a bit of fun , " blaise smirked as theodore threw him an angry look.

"no but seriously theodore , you cant let yourself be exhausted because of a girl" pansy said.

"shes not just a girl , shes nice and funny and beautiful and!-... im pathetic," theo sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his curls.

"im done with all this sappy , annoying shit , go ask her to hogsmeade or ill do it. and trust me i wont rest until she falls in love with me, " draco warned , attempting at making his friend confess.

"DONT!" theodore shouted at him , immediatly letting embrassment sink in as everyone , including you, turned to look at him, "ill....do it"

lorenzo and pansy spoke words of encouragment as the petrified boy rose from the table , draco , matteo and blaise forgetting the whole ordeal and discussing quidditch instead.

once theodore was far enough from the table pansy turned to enzo , "why is that the most emotion ive ever seen out of him in our whole lifelong friendship?"

"dunno , hufflepuffs are really effective i guess," enzo shrugged before they both skipped to another conversation and started eating again.

----

theodore walked towards your table with a confident stride , stopping behind you and sliding in next to you on the bench , close enough to the point that your bodies were pressed togther. as you jumped in suprise theo gave you a flirty smile and stared you dead in the eye.

"hi theodore , can i help you?" you asked wearily , glancing away from him and at your confused friends for a split second.

"yes, you can ," thedore smirked , "how about hogsmeade , this weekend , you and me?"

you physically paused as your mouth hung open , this was the second time you had ever talked to theodore nott and he was suddenly asking you out??!

"oh um....yeah - yeah sure id love to" you gave him a smile , a little cautious and very much confused.

"great , see you then beautiful ,"he winked, planting a kiss on your cheek before slipping out of the bench and confidently walking back to the slytherin table.

you looked at your friends with deep confusion, before going on to watch theo walk away , whilst your friends yapped about how hot he is.

-----

"so how was it?" pansy asked theodore as he sat down.

he quickly dropped his confident , cool face and let a wide grin bless his features , "perfect!!! she said yes! i walked up and acted real calm and collected ,and she didnt know i was nervous at all!!"

pansy and lorenzo smiled at him as the other boys just ignored him , uninterested. "thats great theo! so are you gonna be able to sleep now?" enzo laughed.

"like a baby." theodore grinned.

#harry potter #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #harry potter x reader #slytherin #hufflepuff #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #blaise zabini #matteo riddle #x reader #theodore nott x y/n #espresso #sabrina carpenter #fanfic

1K notes · View notes

kosmicdream · 2 months

Text

Please don’t think of me as a male artist.

..is what i used to feel, for many years, even when I finally came out as trans. In a way, its one of the factors that kept me from pursuing HRT (which im so glad i finally did.) After only one year, my feeling on this hasn’t evaporated completely but i suppose I kind of don’t care anymore about how I am interpreted, as a person/artist, ect.. It isn’t something i can be in control of anyway, which upsets me less than it used to.

Sometimes in the past, the way i write characters has often been analyzed by the gender I am, or appear to be - that my male characters were written like how a woman writes men (too emotional/vulnerable, ect) , or how my female characters are written thoughtlessly- like how a man would. (too horny, stupid, violent, ect.) Its not a new way to analyze a story but I can’t say that it doesn’t annoy me. It could still be true that my characters/writing could fall into sexist/problematic archetypes, but gendering my work based on the way my characters act always reminds me of the “you draw like a girl/boy” comments, which used to be more frequent when i was a teen.. But the idea that boys = angular, good at cars! Or something and girls are, i dunno, gonna draw sexy anime men or something. Even as a teenager, i hated this idea that my art was “girl art.” Truthfully, i always viewed my art and myself as an artist as genderfluid, maybe even a type of drag performance, where i can explore any gender and not be limited by my body, it was my escape from that. Which naturally, it became my place to explore gender presentation and eventually helped me “crack my egg” of realizing i was a trans man.

I do think its important to reflect or regard my work as the art made by a trans man, or transmasculine person. I feel more and more just like “just a dude” these days. I am also a gay man. I think those things are important to my work. I think that the analysis of my work in regards to my identity as a person is important to reflect on. I also think the steps I took to get there were important, that transformation and my continued exploration of my older selves and more “label-less” self in the art i make. That’s a private space for me, that I happen to share with the world too. I feel the audience is part of my work too, I welcome it even. I have become part of the audience too and I look at my work as if I’m also a stranger. The older my work gets, the more of it I can study, the more I can see plainly how I got here and also it feels so confusing how it did. I try to study my art to help me find where I want to go to next, a map to guide me.

In some ways, I feel more lost than I did before, where all my instinct was pushing me was just to grow and explore as much as possible. Now, I don’t have that same type of energy that I used to. Its not a bad thing, its just different. There’s a sense of duty and commitment and a sense of dread of the time it takes to do what I feel compelled to do on this step of my journey. I am trying to focus more on the things I used to think I was incapable of before and I’m trying to remember the things I used to think were so effortless. I can tell my art is sharper but it feels almost like a mimicry of my older selves - at least when I revisit old work to continue its journey past where its been frozen in time. Comics take a long time, after all, it's normal that after a few years - a story might be yours, but it feels like it belongs to the past of you too, maybe more than it does in the present. I like the commitment I have to my comics though, its not a burden to me. The feeling is strange anyway.

I tend to think that 1-3 years of a project being made, those are the honeymoon years of the relationship. But you hit a wall in 4-5 years and sometimes you’re in denial about it, you try to keep the dreams and feeling alive as you drag it forward, and sometimes the project really reaches its end around 8-10 years and it becomes a type of empty promise to return to it. Not that this is true for every artist, every project, ect. But I think its a natural lifespan for comics that I’ve observed, and it's because it is uncomfortable to face morality and the morality of our own art. Art is this escape, and when it becomes a job - or an uncomfortable mirror into these things about ourselves, about our failures and promises we couldn’t manage to make, the pressures of the audience, the boredom of the task if you have already told yourself the story a thousand times and you have no longer a desire to continue it, ect - its a normal and natural feeling to want to drop it off a cliff. Blow it up, start over fresh - I know the feeling! Its happened many times. But its kind of temporary? Then, it cycles back to nostalgia - and the desire to create and recreate and reform the past to something tangible again.. uh

Sorry, sorry.. I am getting far from the point I started with. Not that any of this makes too much sense, I feel like writing it anyway. It bothers me that the fantasy of art to me, is the ability to dissolve yourself and stop existing, you are the creator creating. You don’t need to be confined by, really anything. It is in “your control” now, and you surrender your own control by falling into the art and letting it “lead you” places. This is a very seductive process and while it might temporarily be fulfilling (even when done for a lifetime) cannot really.. What.. completely fill the void of whatever you’re chasing down there? Its nice though. At least, when I think about when i first started drawing comics, it was to draw Vash the Stampede (from the original 98 anime series, i hate the new one. We’re not talking about there here) coming out of my television after a thunderstorm and he had to just live in my house now. It was the closest thing I could do to actually manifesting that as reality, of making this amazing anime husband come to life to just like live with me now and be my boyfriend. In a lot of ways I don’t see my pursuit of writing ocs, specifically male ones, really much different from this same desire of like “i can just make my perfect boyfriend!” born out of the loneliness I felt in my heart, and the fear that there is no boyfriend out there for me so i need to frankenstein my own - and this boyfriend will be poifect in every way. Or like, crafting the perfect “relationship” in replace the lack of one, or just the fantasy of watching very abstract extremes come to life in various puppets i crafted, beating the shit out of each other for entertainment. But to subject all these.. Abstract Internal conflicts as simply like a “boy author thing” or “girl author thing” is like.. Tiring. Are we really not past that? (Of course not.)

Like there’s some hidden truth to the way someone might write/draw, the way that “makes sense” in retrospect once the identity of the author is analyzed and discovered.. How can you make sense of the self, let alone the other .. and In a way that’s permanent? And gendered? Does art now have an inherent sex characteristic? But I cannot deny that I do want my art to look and feel like part of who I am, what I have chosen to sexually identify as - a transgender, a man, a faggot. I DO identify as a sexual deviant, but that is hilarious because I have been single for so long at this point I can’t even remember in a tangible way what that felt like and I question if I ever felt it or experienced it “for realsies” because of the experiences I have had or havent didn’t feel very fulfilling or romantic, despite that being something I desire so much - and so I feel like a failure. And to create art just based on the fantasy of desire rather than the lived reality, can it even really display what that would actually be like. So its embarrassing, right?

I have worked on my art a lot and I have often thought, or come to the conclusion (true or not) that my singleness is the result of my pursuit and dedication to art - which is the pursuit of self isolation and protection from harm. From influence, from acknowledging that life can exist and someday end. And when you work on projects for years and years, the pride/shame dichotomy only gets more.. Weird. It gets weird, guys! It always was weird, but.. I just think about so many my heroes, my art inspirations, working decades on their art.. I follow in their footsteps too and it feels scarier and lonelier than I expected it to be. And the more and more I realized that as a reality, as my 20s faded away, the more I kept walking. I wasn’t gonna stop now, even if I could, I don’t want to and its not hard to do other things too. I have a slower pace than I used to (thank god) and gets slower but I’m still moving.

I don’t post or write my little art journals as much as I used to. Mostly cause I don’t really have anything good to say and it kinda feels embarrassing to post them too LOL. But.. whatever!! Its been a weird four months of me being off work and I’m about to go back to being a normal working person again.. But its like, its weird to tell people about your art when they ask about what you do. Its like “oh yeah, i draw webcomics” and they wont get it, you’ll say - “yeah its 8,000 pages long” and they’ll say, “thats a lot!” and it is. They’re very nice about it, but there’s a lack of satisfaction there with what that means. I don’t expect it, that’d be dumb as hell. Its nice to take a break from it too, to discover other sides of myself I never let shine because i stayed indoors for a decade, but its a weird feeling too. Like, what will it mean in the end? I don’t really know.

I don’t think I need “success” to feel like this was worth it, its not like a trophy is gonna come in the mail for the good workTM I’ve done - there is no closure to the work I make even when a story finishes. I have to keep going regardless of that, and its strange to know it won’t ever feel done. But I am so thirsty for that temporary itch to be scratched, it keeps me working every day for the “maybe” of what that might feel like. Kinda silly, really. Is it my “male” pride that demands recognition? Would respect be given more freely if I had “remained” to be perceived as a woman, for subverting the expectations for what a woman can/can’t write? (lol) Is my value as a person determined by that sort of thing in my art? I don’t think of my pride as gendered, but I know its there and I know because of who I say I am, my pride will be gendered by others. I think when I was a woman, that pissed me off more than now because.. Well.. I wasn’t even living as the way i wanted to. I still don’t really live as the way I want to, the way I want to be perceived, but even being on HRT for a little more than 1 year, without much else lifestyle changes, I feel a little more at peace not mattering what others will take away from me or what i write about. I have a lot of my own expectations for myself and what i write about and that concerns me far more.

I don’t really know how else to end this, I’m going to eat chocolate now. Oh, to answer your question (?) if you might have this one: can I think of you as a male artist, kosmic? sure. I am one after all.

#whoops! long post #its very rambly sorry #webcomics

76 notes · View notes

harcove · 9 months

Text

Stargazer - B.H.

a/n not a request, because... idk man, i have so many things im in the middle of writing for billy rn, and i had this one in my noggin for a while because i swear i remember somewhere dacre said smthing about it would be cool to see another side of billy- like with a girl just... in a field- cuties. or maybe... i made that up in my head besties idk, but here u go

length: 2.6k

pairing: billy x reader

warnings: no; mention maybe of billy's father and to trauma/abuse. maybe badly written billy im not too confident with this one lmao

summary: billy and you sneak into the hawkins high school football field and look at the stars

The air outside was considerably cooler than it had been during the day, and even then it had already been rather nippy out. The autumn air crisp as the months crawled slowly towards December, towards winter. Maybe a bit chilly for you to be laying in an open field in the middle of the night, but Billy Hargrove didn't seem to care; especially not when he was the one who snuck the two of you into Hawkins High schools football field.

You weren't even sure you had a football team. It was used for soccer and running track. It would be better to refer to it as a soccer field.

"Goddamn it's fucking cold," Billy grumbles, as he jumps down the fence, watching as you take the easier route (for you at least); the small hole that the school had yet to repair in the fencing in a bottom corner; too small for Billy to fit through, but just big enough you could wriggle your way through, "mind reminding me why I agreed to this bullshit?"

"I dunno," the smile is evident in your voice as you finally end up on the right side of the fence, picking yourself up off the dirt ground as Billy looks down at you, hands in his pockets. You use his bent arm to pull yourself up and you can feel the way he stiffens his body to compensate for the weight of your pulling, so neither of you fall, "But it's really not that bad."

"Not that bad?" his brows raise almost comically, and he blinks; his bright blue eyes looking at you like you're insane, "Not that fuckin' bad, huh?"

He breathes out, a bit harsher on purpose, and a plume of air appears in front of the two of you. It's just cold enough that your breath can be seen in front of you, like tiny little clouds of mist; a constant and subtle reminder that the seasons were close to changing once more, Autumn would soon blend into Winter.

Also, a constant reminder for Billy that he was no longer in California.

The sudden thought put a damper on his mood and it was visible in his body language and facial expressions. Billy Hargrove was so much more of an open-book than he realized sometimes. When it came to emotions like anger, or hatred, they showed themselves like black ink on a white page; strikingly. They were two emotions that coincided with one another; and they were the emotions he felt most often and most deeply. Being sad was weak (his father really beat that into him, physically and metaphorically) and being happy? He wasn't sure he could feel happy anymore. Too much anger. Too much hatred.

But then, when he looks at you, everything felt less harsh- his chest doesn't feel as heavy, his body isn't as on fire from a rage deep within; and there is something there. Something that maybe could be happiness. If he let it build, if he worked on it. If he just let it happen.

Easier said than done.

You can feel the way Billy slips away from the moment, noticing the way the dirty blonde sunk deeper into his own head, his face losing any of it's previous sarcasm and maybe even slight amusement, you clear your throat. Better than touching him, because you can't really be sure where his thoughts are in these moments exactly, and you'd seen more than enough to know what his father is like.

"Yeah, not that bad," you repeat, a sly smirk graces your lips as you walk backwards from him, taking big steps to reach the wide open field, your eyes adjusted to the darkness at this point, "you're just being a baby."

Mission successful. Even at the distance you've created between the two of you, you can see the way his face morphs. It's not anger, not like some might think it would be at being called a name; it's light-hearted when you say it, and only you can say it. He'll get back at you. He always does. Sometimes sooner rather than later; and now it's sooner.

The sound that comes from his lips isn't exactly a laugh, it's more of a scoff; a laugh of disbelief as he watches you get further away. His tongue juts out, wetting his lips, a slight shake of his head; eyes zoning in on you perfectly.

"Baby?" he sounds defiant, mock-angry. You just shrug your shoulders, shouting back at him, 'yeah' before waving your arms in the air, "You're fuckin' asking for it."

Billy is fast. He would be, considering how he likes to work out and stay fit; his place on the basketball team for Hawkin's high school shines through in moments like this where he starts running towards you; in turn you turn to face forward, starting to run yourself towards the centre of the field. It's a futile effort to run from Billy Hargrove. He's always going to catch you. He's fast. And he doesn't let up.

You squeal when he suddenly grabs you, slamming his body into your own with his arms around your middle, picking you up with easy and throwing himself onto the ground with you to boot. The laughter bubbles up in your throat as you try to catch your breath, winded and filled with adrenaline. You can hear it before you see it; the laugh from him, the smile in his laugh. It's not a laugh like yours, one that is full-bodied and hard to catch your breath too- it's more like a burst of laughter that he brings back down to control. But it's still a laugh.

You've heard it before. But never like this. He's laughed when he's been angry, he's laughed but it's been fake and calculated. But now he laughs and it isn't thought out beforehand. It isn't in disbelief or anger.

His strength and heavy-handedness is only amplified when he tosses you off him from where he took the brunt of his purposeful fall to the ground, quickly flipping you over without much time for you to think about what's happening. It's only when he's hovering over you with a hand digging into your hip- not enough to hurt you, but enough to know damn well it's there.

"Now," he breathes out, his warm breath a stark contrast from the crisp autumn night, "What was it you called me...?"

Mischief swims in your eyes as you stare directly into the prettiest blue you think you've ever seen. Everything about Billy is pretty. He is so beautiful, in every way, but he hates when you say that. He prefers words like hot, or sexy. But he can't hide his red tipped ears when you say he's beautiful or pretty.

He deserves to know he's not just some object for women to oggle at. He's a beautiful human being. He's Billy.

"Ba...by," you huff out, still trying to catch your breathe. The rise and fall of you chest makes contact with Billy's, showing just how close he is to you right now.

His lips crash onto yours. Hungry. Heavy. Angry? No... Needy. But also, vengeful. If you weren't already winded, you are definitely winded now as all thoughts escape you; the need to breathe becoming a secondary thought. Why breathe when you have him? He makes you feel alive. He makes all the bad things in Hawkins just... Stop. Like the stars in the sky, he may disappear, he might go away for some time but he's still always there. He's...

He bits into your lip.

It elicits a muffled cry from you as you push against his chest, his mouth leaving yours.

And he has the audacity to look at you, mock-confusion on his face, breathing much more normal paced compared to your own. It makes you wanna pinch him. But you don't, instead you settle on glaring at him in the dark.

"Someone's being a baby," he throws it back at you with ease, rolling off you when you push him off. To be fair, you didn't have the strength to push him off, he's just giving you one by rolling off of you anyways. A thump when he hits the grass beside you.

Pouting is useless since he can't even see it now that he's looking at the sky, but you do it anyway. It's the principle of the thing you suppose.

It's quiet. The only sound being a cricket here or there, and the sound of your breathing mixed with his own. Your finally able to regulate your breathing and bring it back to normal. You wish you had a drink, but that's not a big deal for now. The cool air entering your lungs feels good, a balm to the burn from your previous silliness.

"At least your warm now, right?" You offer up the words after a few more beats of silence.

He snorts.

"There's better ways to get warm and stay warm."

You know what he's implying and you hit his shoulder softly with your fingers.

"No. Not in public."

He doesn't respond to that. He really would do anything with you right there, but contrary to what others seemed to believe, he was rather respectful of your boundaries when it came to these things. That didn't mean he wasn't going to tease you.

"Can't believe I'm with a goddamn prude. Its the middle of the damn night."

Like that.

"It's not being a prude!" You focus your attention on the sky, "now just... Look."

He lets out a heavy breath.

The reason you wanted to come out here in the first place. The night sky, filled with stars.

Hawkins wasn't a big city or more populated place like California, it was a small town. Light pollution wasn't really a thing here as it would be in big cities. You took it for granted till you visited your aunt and uncle one year in New York, where the light pollution was rampant. Seeing a star there was nigh impossible.

But Hawkins? The sky was littered with so many little stars, stars you could see perfectly. You could make out some and the vast dark that went on forever. It made you feel oddly melancholic. Sometimes you wished you could reach up, touch them, and join them up there. So small in the grand scheme of things. A reminder of just how large the universe was. Just how... Insignificant you were in the grand scheme of things.

And that was okay. Sometime, you need to be reminded that you're just one person in a world of billions, you're small, and not everything needs to be on your shoulders.

You wanted Billy to feel that. Feel the weight of the world drift away as the stars reminded you, you're only human. Just a small, little human.

"That's the big dipper," you reach your arm up to point at the cluster of stars forming the measuring cup like shape in the sky, "I only know it because it was the only one I could find when I was a kid."

"Still the only one you can find?"

"Uh, no," you matter-of-factly say, moving to point towards another cluster, "there's the little dipper."

"Damn," he mocks, "the little one too?"

You giggle, wiggling closer to Billy's side, seeking his warmth and just his presence in general.

"Still don't get why we couldn't do this when it's warmer. I'm not giving you my damn jacket, you still haven't given me back the other fucking one."

That's true. But he doesn't complain too much. You always bring it back to him, and it somehow always ends up back with you anyways.

"Because, you can see the stars better when it's colder."

"Bullshit," you see his breath when he speaks, "That's the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard."

"No its not!" You don't actually know that. You just said it, because you've always found you see the stars the best when it's colder. Maybe it's because you usually look up at the sky most during this time of year, when the sky darkens so much quicker than in the summer.

Once more, the conversation lulls to a stop, it's a easy silence that settles between you, one that feels comfortable and safe. Something about being with Billy feels safe, it always does. You can only hope that it's the same for him; that being with you is a safe place for him. Or someday, it will be.

He deserves at least one person, one place, in his life that's safe.

You wriggle close enough to the man that you can rest your head on his shoulder and you do so with ease, but you can feel his shoulder stiffen for a moment before it relaxes. It's just you. He's fine with you.

Much to your pleasure he moves the arm of the shoulder you placed your head on out from beneath you, snaking it around your shoulder to force you closer to him with a single tug. It brings you close enough to Billy that your practically on top of him. When you settle yourself comfortably, one leg hiked up across his torso, with your body pressed against his side and your head close to his heart- his hand leaves your shoulder and travels to your waist. He squeezes the flesh on your hip, causing you to jump slightly.

You know he enjoys how you react.

And you like how it feels.

Laying there, beside him, felt right. It felt like this was where you were meant to be. The cold air didn't matter, the hard grass beneath you didn't change anything. It felt so cliché, to lay under the stars beside a handsome boy- the quote en quote bad boy, as if there was nothing else in the world but the two of you.

You really felt you could stay there forever. Be with him forever.

"You fallin' asleep?" When he speaks you feel the vibrations from his chest, "you fall asleep, your on your damn own."

He doesn't mean that. You know that, he knows that. You breathe in his cologne, savouring it before releasing a long breathe.

"I'm not... I'm just," you pause, voice quiet, strikingly different to how it had been before when you were running from him as a joke. If it wasn't so quiet already, your voice may have been carried away with the wind, "Happy."

You aren't surprised when at first, Billy has nothing to say to that.

Billy is turning this over in his head. Happy. You were... Happy. Happy to be there with him, happy to lay on a dirt and grass in the middle of the night with him. Happy. You were happy.

He didn't think he could make anyone happy. That anyone could be happy with him. It was scary. It scared him; how long could he keep that going? How long till something happened, till he did something and ruined everything. Before he ruined your happiness; ruined you. Was it selfish for him to keep you with him, even knowing that he could ruin everything? Was it unfair to want to have you despite his own fears and issues... Maybe, but Billy Hargrove did not care.

He'd be as selfish as he damn pleased.

"A prude, and a goddamn crackpot. At least you're easy to please."

You swear you can hear a soft edge in his voice as he speaks, even if it's hard to catch, like it's barely there. But you can hear it. You pull yourself closer to him, if it's even possible to do at this point.

Yeah, you think, you could stay there forever with him. And he thinks, maybe he could too.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #mine #antis dni #amy writes #my writing #hhhhh i struggled with billy this time for some reason im sorry yall

156 notes · View notes

beaboniim · 2 months

Text

"and sometimes tears fall from my eyes but my chest is empty, and sometimes i feel in my chest but my head is far away" "and often my head and my heart are misaligned and i don't know who i am, how many lives i must have lived while my thoughts were absent and how many people have lived in my own body."

2 notes · View notes

guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 8 months

Note

Hey! For your Miles requests, I'd love to read about what it might be like for the reader to watch Miles transfer to Visions if they both went to Brooklyn Middle together.

Not This Time

Miles Morales x fem!reader

Miles Morales x black!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

Requested: yes

A/N: GUYS PARTICIPATE IN MY 300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL PLEASE also hope you guys enjoy electro because I had to make something up.

300 Follower Special <3

Masterlist

“You’re not gonna forget me right?” You wondered.

It was the last week of summer and you were clinging to the last few days you had left with Miles. Sitting on his building’s rooftop you stared down at the Brooklyn you’ve known your whole life. You and Miles were the fastest of friends since your first day at Brooklyn Middle you genuinely couldn’t imagine not seeing him every day. You were still proud of him, however. Getting into Visions was a pretty big deal.

“Why would you ask me that?” He glanced at you offended.

You simply shrugged, pulling your knees up to your chest. “I dunno, you’ll go and make new friends and I won’t be so important anymore,”

“No,” He shook his head, turning to face you. “That would never happen,”

You looked back at him, maintaining eye contact.

“I’d never forget you,” He promised.

The first week of freshman year was finally over. It wasn’t as bad as your middle school teachers tried to make it seem, you’d made a couple of new friends, and none of your teachers were mean.

Realizing you hadn’t spoken to Miles yet today you pulled your phone out to message him.

you: how was your first week?

miles: my science teacher was on my ass but my roommates not bad

miles: he doesn’t talk much

you: i told you, you’d be fine

you: wanna go the end show w/me tonight in golconda

you: it’s at 7

miles: im sorry I cant :( too much hw

you: oh no don’t worry maybe next time

Putting your phone back down on your desk with a huff you tried not to feel disappointed. There would be other opportunities to hang out. It’s not like this was the end of your friendship.

The excuses and cancellations only grew in numbers. Soon you’d gone from seeing Miles every day to barely holding a virtual conversation once a week.

You weren’t going to sit around and wait for the crumbs of attention Miles was willing to give you. This would not be a one-sided relationship, you had too much self-respect for that.

But just because you weren’t actively talking doesn’t mean you didn’t care. You’d just care from afar.

—————-

You weren’t one to watch the news but the TV was open to Channel 12 when you made it home from running errands. Placing your grocery bags on the couch something compelled you to tune in.

Seeing PDNY cars surrounding a crazed man wielding what looked to be lightning bolts sent you into a state of controlled panic. You practically sped to Miles’s apartment to check on Mr. Morales.

He wasn’t there when you got to the apartment but Rio informed you he was okay and she’d just spoken to him on the phone.

Letting out a sigh of relief you relaxed your shoulders. Slumping to sit down next to her on the couch she gave you a once-over

“You’ve grown so much since I last saw you. How’s high school?” She asked, now getting a better look at you.

“It’s definitely different,”

“We’ve missed you around here, Miles has been acting so different lately, he’s not my little boy anymore,” She sighed wistfully.

“I miss you guys too,” You pouted.

You didn’t want to get emotional but you really did miss your second family. And you weren’t trying to take it personally but Miles avoiding you truly hurt. “It’s so weird not seeing Miles anymore,”

“Seeing him a couple times a week must be very different from every day,”

A couple times a week? You hadn’t seen him at all this month. Even if you were pissed at him you didn’t want him in trouble so you just agreed.

“Yeah, I’m still not used to it.”

You weren’t leaving until you saw for yourself that Mr. Morales was okay. Your stubbornness and unwillingness to take things as you’re told kept you from being able to fully believe Mrs. Morales’s promise of her husband’s safety. Anything could’ve happened between their phone call and now.

Waiting on the couch listening to Mrs. Morales talk about work and her conniving coworkers. You felt the most at peace as you’ve had in a while.

The peace didn’t last long as Miles came bursting through the front door adorning his red and black jacket with oversized sweats and his backpack slung over his shoulder. Mrs. Morales immediately stood up and moved towards him, the picture of concern.

“Mijo, what’s wrong, what are you doing here it’s a school night?”

Instead of answering her he just threw himself into her arms and wilted into her chest.

From your place on the couch, you couldn’t hear the muffled conversation or anything at all, which only amplified your worry.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” You found yourself calling out standing from your spot on the sofa.

The sound of your voice snapped him out of his reprieve. Miles pulled his head from the crook of his mother's neck. He let his eyes roam over you attempting to assess if you were real or not.

Once he decided his eyes weren’t deceiving him he practically launched himself into your arms.

You stumbled back with the force of his weight and despite your anger and confusion, you hugged him back.

Evidently, something was wrong but he wasn’t going to talk about it anytime soon. You tried to hold out and let him feel his emotions but-

“Miles,” You wheezed out into his chest. “Can’t breathe.”

He released you the slightest bit but didn’t let you go.

“Sorry,” He muttered to the top of your head. “Missed you so much,”

“Missed you too,”

As much as you loved Mrs. Morales, she was a chismosa and every conversation was not for her ears.

“Let’s go outside,” You suggested grabbing his arm to pull you with him.

You hadn’t made the climb to the water tower in a while and you weren’t as fit as you were a month ago. Trying to hide it out of embarrassment you switched the topic.

“You cold?” You asked panting as you found your footing.

“What?” He questioned looking down at himself.

As if he just discovered the zip-up he was wearing he answered. “Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s really chilly out here,”

Even without the years of knowing Miles under your belt, you would’ve known he was lying but you didn’t feel like starting an argument the first time you saw him in a while so you just dropped it.

The two of you easily fell back into the swing of things as if there were never any distance between the two of you. You were glad to be talking again, now knowing his issue wasn’t due to anything you’d done.

He was catching you up on everything you’d missed in his life when he went ghost on you, but he still wasn’t hinting at what was bothering him. He was using you as an alibi and not even telling you, it was so unlike him.

Even his mom noticed a change in his behavior so why wouldn’t he just talk to you? You had to bring it up or you’d regret it once you’d gotten home.

“You know you can tell me anything right?”

He hummed in acknowledgment.

You should be furious he’d ghosted you for so long. And now he won’t even talk to you? but looking at him now he looked so upset and broken you couldn’t feel anything besides concern.

“Miles please, tell me what’s going on,” You begged. “We tell each other everything,” It was true you even told him when you had started your first period the summer before 7th grade. You never felt the need to hide anything from each other. So why start now? What happened between the start of high school to now to make him stop trusting you?

“Is it me? Can you just not tell me?” You attempted to rationalize his behavior.

“It’s not you,” He promised.

“So then talk to me please,” You whined.

“I can’t tell you. Not this time,”

The last person to learn he was Spider-Man died. In the same month, he watched Spider-Man and his uncle die in right front of him. All his other friends left him and maybe it was selfish but you were the only one he had left. He refused to lose you or have you look at him differently. Maybe telling you would lift some of the burden of having a secret identity as just a child, but he couldn’t risk it. Not this time. Not with you.

©guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom

#hannah speaks ღ #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales angst #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales fluff #miles morales

93 notes · View notes

neppttune · 1 year

Text

“demons make love?!”

↳ ⭒ warnings: heavy nsfw

↳ ⭒— synopsis: the demons of the taisho era love you, so lets talk about how they fuck you! ♡

彡kibitsuji m

⋆ oh your in for a rough night. or day. or whenever a demon had sex with their s/o

⋆ his penis is inside of you. at all times

⋆ it will just be some classic rough -ly aggressive yet passionate sex

⋆ ok so context on the 'passionate' part, muzan does love you absoluetly, but he's also a narcissist w a god complex

⋆ definitely teases you in a few ways, whether is be teasing your needy hole with the head of his cock, or thrusting in only the head and stopping fully

⋆ will make you beg for his cock on some days, or will be extra sweet and give to u raw (lmao)

⋆ his cock is definitely 7-8 inches though im sure he can shapeshift a bigger one

⋆ he uses his tentacle-like appendages on you sometimes

⋆ you brought up the idea in your mind and thought well i should ask

⋆ he just stared, blinked, and said "...okay."

⋆ may or may not deny your release. for as long as he wants until your crying, legs shaking, and screaming and begging.

⋆ maybe then he'll consider it

⋆ god this man is fine

⋆ if he's having a bad day, the anal/vaginal sex is rougher than rough or he'll command more than ask you to suck him off and deepthroat him.

⋆ sometimes if he's busy and he can tell when your horny, he'll sit you on his lap while he rubs your clit with no breaks

彡kokushibou

⋆ his loads are large for starters

⋆ his favorite thing to do with you is have his head between your legs, what fun!

⋆ ride his face/throat fuck him, he likes it

⋆ its a reward when you ejaculate to him, and will clean it all up happily.

⋆ i think he'd enjoy praise a lot due to his inferior complex unfortunately

⋆ maybe even a small breeding kink wink wink

⋆ i dunno the thought of you being responsible for and baring his children makes him go brrr

⋆ low grunts when hes close only because his pride is a little too big even though this contradicts what i just said to make any sounds.

⋆ at least one pair of eyes are closed during the devil's tango because like

⋆ hes PACKINGGGGG- its long and painful with quite some girth to it :) maybe 8-9 inches

⋆ im sure he has his bad days as we all do and will raw dog your ass

⋆ but its okay because he makes sure not to make it too-too bad.

⋆ just his hips snapping back towards your sopping cunt as soon as they come back.

彡douma

⋆ very much a masochist

⋆ dom

⋆ like i imagine you biting him and he cums right then and there maybe

⋆ selfish and a sadist so...

⋆ once in a while he may be nice

⋆ nice, as in overstimulation

⋆ the stamina of course is * out of this world *

⋆ will purposely leave a fat load of hickeys on you everywhere for all his followers to see

⋆ he'd either be very closed off and not into exhibitionism; he’s selfish, or douma would want his followers to watch and praise you the same they do him

⋆ enjoys praise a lot because he's been praised since he was born (literally)

⋆ really enjoys giving you head as a warm up

⋆ the pace is dramatically fast and rough some days, or he is very sensual and slow

⋆ high sex drive- he never felt genuine emotions so when he fucks you or makes love he becomes addicted

⋆ speaking of which there is a clear difference than when he is fucking and making love to him, even if you sometimes cannot tell. to him there is

⋆ he likes to inflict tiny nicks on your neck and lick up the blood uh okay

⋆ its big i have no proof but ik it is

彡akaza

⋆ cock warming is his favorite btw

⋆ he's either very mean, or if you have a vagina and identify as a woman he praises your entire existence

⋆ im sorry he's an extreme philogynist

⋆ although he really enjoys overstimulating you, he feels like its an extreme sport

⋆ he likes watching you cry and whine and beg for him

⋆ he calls you pretty girl

⋆ if you identify as a male, he's extremely degrading

⋆ name calling, spitting in your mouth, you name it

彡gyūtarō

⋆ extremely insecure about almost everything (other than his strength)

⋆ regardless of if you were a demon or not, he's always asking if it feels good (he's insecure about his size as well)

⋆ aware of his strength so ^

⋆ lots and lots of gentle kisses

⋆ favorite position being missionary, he just like seeing your face

⋆ always close to you whining in your ear while

⋆ he rests his head on your shoulder when he gets close and his hips start to stutter

⋆ thoroughly enjoys praise, even if he doesn't believe it and just thinks its a sick joke

彡daki

⋆ shes a big bully

⋆ switch

⋆ suffocates you in her breasts

⋆ corruption kink all the way

⋆ she likes to tease you and poke fun at the blubbering whiny mess you've become

⋆ but if on the rare occasion she let's you dom her, she's the blubbering whiny mess

⋆ she doesn't like how she has to be nice and say please

彡enmu

⋆ doesnt care whats going on as long as your being pleasured

⋆ he enjoys eating you out a lot

⋆ extremely loud and whiny when you give him head

⋆ he really wants you to be loud because he wants people to hear, not even so they "know who you belong to" he's just like that

⋆ doesn't want anyone to see you just hear what they're missing

⋆ hes so whiny bro its adorable

⋆ "ah~ y/n you feel s-so good!"

my apologies for how short it got at the end i just wanted to put something out lmao

©neppttune

do not plagiarize, repost, modify, or translate my work without written consent.

#anime #demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #kny fluff #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #muzan smut #kny headcanons #kokushibo #kny smut #demon slayer smut

174 notes · View notes

tulpafcker · 11 days

Text

ummmmm musings about the ghost trick ending, under the cut because yknow. spoilers. tldnr i am not The Biggest Fan of the ending; i love the game and always will but i dont think the ending stuck the landing

and no i am not talking about the cat reveal. that was fire

so like, in the good timeline.... everyone's super happy and stuff, and yomiel was in prison for those 10 years instead of being dead, and sissel now lives with jowd

and i. well first i have some thoughts about yomiel being in prison being the good ending because yeah, he wants to atone for what he did, but jowd also wanted that and everyone around him worked together to make sure he didn't do that. or is the difference that yomiel actually did the thing he thought he did?

also, prison is not exactly like... The Best place to be. there are a lot of problems with prison, most notably the isolation that comes with it. especially since yomiel seems to be the only prisoner there, and yeah sissel (fiancsissel) visits him, but are they allowed to hug? or is it one of those prisons that makes you do the phone-call-thru-plexiglass thing. and i dunno man, it just kind of sucks that yomiel went thru 10 years of isolation and then had to go thru 10 years of different slightly less bad isolation

but fine. whatever. what ever! its fine.

but.... the whole climactic moment was how sissel (cat sissel) loved yomiel so much. how they literally WERE each other for years, how sissel was yomiel's only compaion, and how yomiel was sissel's. they were each other's only friends. sissel wanted so badly to help yomiel- and he did! i'm not saying he didn't!

im just saying, like, it feels a bit wrong that he ends up with jowd's family and is just content to be a part of a family, any family, with no real mention of yomiel. like it kind of makes the emotional climax of the game hit a little less hard, knowing sissel doesnt seem to miss yomiel and is just fine living with a different family

but thats just meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

#ive seen other people have Thoughts about the ending and wanted to throw my hat into the ring #apologies i am sick so maybe this is not coherent or well articulated #ghost trick #ghost trick spoilers #ghost trick yomiel

20 notes · View notes

torosdottir · 2 months

Text

thing is idk i know hormones have an effect on mood i know i was just literally about 3 days ago joking about oh i know it's coming when i start listening 2 a certain sad sad song or whatever. but i do think weve been conditioned to play it up i do think the whole world sees women as these hormonally controlled creatures and i knoooow theres genuine mood effects but also like. idk man my mood is up n down back n forth like a rollercoaster on the regular and sometimes its so easy to say "oh i felt down/angry this week bc im pmsing" but bro i can feel down or angry any week. and i can feel bright and light and happy when im premenstrual. i dunno maybe women are thoughtful intelligent complex emotional beings not driven solely by hormones? maybe theres other things going on w us? seems sometimes that some women write off any emotions they experience (ESPECIALLY THEIR ANGER..) if it's at a certain time of the month bc they somehow figure those feelings aren't "real". girl its as real as any other day and ur magic hormones didnt conjure this feeling out of nowhere. you're still you. u know?

#i knoooow this is going 2 sound so preaching 2 the choir. but idk i think its smthn even feminists lose focus of #like w the whole 'women have xyz natural physical disadvantage' thing and how it leads to women always assuming theyre weak and useless #idk. dont let it get in ur head.

26 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 10 months

Note

SO TRUE Im trying to enjoy my Miguel fanfics but most of them are so out of character I just can’t 😭😭

I dunno if I would exactly say out of character (partially because I don't want to imply I'm some characterization expert or whatever when I haven't published Jack shit) since I feel like, there can be different themes or emotions or vibes the story is going for that may call for some tweaking, or like certain fics focusing on specific parts of a characters personality, like "I just wanted to write him being angry and how he mighr respond whils under stress" which is valid, but like

One thing I will say that I immediately noticed when I started combing through Miguel fics is, a lot of people make him WAY too verbose and eloquent. Yeah he's a genius, yeah he gets very serious in scenes, but my god the vocabulary some people give him, the way some people have him structuring his sentences. He's not as overly detailed and formal as some people like to write. Like this is a man who says shit like "well, I guess you're just going to have to shut up and trust me" to people he's trying to rescue and, again, even when he's chasing down Miles, he's huffing, "UGH you're so FRUSTRATING", like idk if you consider it canon but his after credits scene in Into the spiderverse literally has him meeting Spiderman 1967 who, MAKES HIM SO MAD HE DOES LIKE LITTLE HOPPY HOPS, like. This man is a DWEEB. He has a temper and threw a trashcan at a teenager! Mf literally loses it and says "¡ay coño!" over a Spider Society wide broadcast, my man livestreamed himself saying "for fucks sake" across the entire community because they didn't immediately understand which specific Spiderman he was asking them to chase the moment he asked them to "stop spiderman" and not specifying any further until, "for fucks sake, MILES MORALES 😤 he's entering sector 4!!" and also when Miles is hiding on that dude's back he's just sprinting up "he's over- on your-- TURN AROUND!!" and waving his arms around

like, he's an emotional person! He's not some like anime supervillain, he's not some demon lord sounding "it is unfortunate that you decided to behave in this manner" dialogue ass-- like I mean, I know there's only so many clips circulating online so maybe people are just. Gleaming the wrong context? Like I've seen a few "all Miguel scenes" videos on YouTube and none of them ever really capture the full context of any of the scenes, there's cuts for copyright, some people cut different parts, some clips are higher quality, but like, it really is different when you see the full movie cause I feel like a lot of people are just focusing ONLY on the parts where he's being, you know, scary as fuck. Like don't think i didn't immediately notice "oh holy shit Miguel actually put CLAW MARKS in Miles' shoulder", this man was literally chasing and diving for this kid, they were bailing out windows, there was a cat, and a t Rex, and idk, maybe I'm looking too far into it but you don't have to make him Ultra Serious to make him intimidating and scary. There's gotta be a balance I guess? I see too much of him being lowkey an edge lord and not enough of him being Just A Real Stressed Out Dude. Idk. I just keep finding written dialogue for him a little cut and dry sometimes, there's only a few things I've read where it stood out to me (like in "no more dry bites" where he's just stopping midsentence to huff "why are you being so-- ok you know what, fine--" *immediately changes tactics lowkey like a tantrum*

Like have you seen some of the concept art of him, they were originally debating giving him glasses and a 5 o clock shadow and have him looking more dorky and casual, like, the man has personality, he has depth, I want the third movie to peel his layers like an onion, I just KNOW there's gonna be a good ending for everyone 😤

I'm just sitting here and thinking like, yeah he's serious but he speaks in a very human way? Like, one thing he says to Miles is something like "you can't save them all, kid. Believe me, I've tried, and the harder I tried, the worse things got" or something along those lines, too lazy to pull up the clip, but like. Idk. Maybe I'm just overanalyzing and maybe it's just people wanting to go for certain moods but i just feel like way too many fics have him acting way too, not even serious, just kind of edgy. He's a serious guy but he still doesn't talk like he's some emotionless robot. He's gonna cross his arms. He's gonna put his hands on his hips. He's gonna roll his eyes at you. He may just even rage quit the conversation "ok, you know what, I gave you enough chances--" and just bites you because this is the quickest easiest option and better to put you out now rather than drag this out and get both of you worked up because He Is So Fucking Tired Dude

68 notes · View notes