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#but maybe that's just my feelings coloring my memories lol
andthebeanstalk · 1 year
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In all my years, I've never seen a movie use non-christian pre-colonial religious imagery as a force of good against evil.
And the fact that in Wendall & Wild - a movie that takes place in a Catholic school, this type of imagery is portrayed as SO much more beautiful and powerful than the drab dreary Catholic imagery of the film... it was fuckin' rad as hell.
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yatiso · 1 year
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first sober night in awhile and im not itchin for weed or alchie and am instead remembering the things that make my blood pump day after day
#🍒#colors ✅ art of all mediums ✅ music ✅ love ✅ my beautiful boyfriend ✅ the occult ✅ the unknown ✅ the stars and sky and moon in particular ✅#poetrt ✅ prose ✅ fun fashion i dont feel compelled to conform to ✅ funnie jokes ✅ friends ✅ peaceful times not self forced or worried bout#understanding ✅ learning ✅ not understanding but knowing i can if i keep going ✅ memories of things that bring me joy ✅#i could do this all damn day. love the world when im not obsessed with consuming substances. who woulda thunk#even w out weed / alchie when i was taking my adderall i couldnt relax like this or feel like this#:3 im learning to be more in tune w my body and the world around me. including aspects of the world we cant see :3#how amazing is that… a few years ago rn i was in and out of inpatient slittin my wrists left and right drinkin a bottle of cough syrup a day#and now. well i still do get urges to cut once a cutter always a cutter. but i just dont do it anymore.#hmmmm this post got deeper than i meant for it to#oh well ill post it anyways but be careful ig lol#i just think its neat what you can achieve when u just listen to what you think and feel as you navigate the world. just listen for awhile.#then take action after feeling ur feelings and thinking your thoughts and letting them take their course and weed out what’s temporary n not#hmmm this post IS a diary entry maybe i shouldnt post. no i will ill come back and see this post one day and go :3 wow. im even better now!
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the-breloominati · 2 years
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just. a little courier. as a treat
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allfearstofallto · 1 month
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I swear to God Childe has so much potential as a yandere, I have this feeling that his soul “died” when he fall into the abyss, after that major event he is a completely different person and his parents knows it they saw it in his eyes, soulless, thirsty for blood and violence.
Imagine him in utter shock when his kids get scared of him, not realizing his love is twisted and sick in the head after they saw how he treats their mother by trying to mimic what he thinks is “love”, how she gets anxious whenever she’s around him,they can hear her cry every night from their bedroom despite her trying her best to be the mother they deserve knowing the circumstances that led to their births, Generally children can feel when something is happening in their household but cannot fully understand it due to their age (lol speaking from experience).
He thought he’d have a picture perfect family with his darling, but why now are they seeing him as if he some type of a monster? That will for sure would make him insecure and it brings up the abyss memories. He claims he loves them and their mother so much but why does he hurt their mama?.
Friend, this is literally a full fledged fic already! And it's incredible!! I've been thinking on this idea for a bit already cause I already had an ask similar to it, so I'll add onto your fic just a little bit!!
Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader
Forced Marriage AU
TW: Yandere themes, reader has children
Growing up in a large family with so many siblings to love and care for, laughter was a sound that he often heard. It was his favorite sound, other than the distinct noise that blood made when it dripped into freshly packed snow. Snezhnaya is cold, but laughter coming straight from your belly is so so warm.
He loves coming home to the sound of laughter. Childish giggles and your rich chuckles. He'd sit his bow down to the side and close the front door to the manor, a noise that was rather loud. He'd be smiling ear to ear, wanting to join in on all the fun, only to realize that the house was now quiet.
Childe went to the living room, where you sat with his two sons. Your two sons. His little bundles of joy that he was eternally grateful to have. The younger one rested on your lap, the other on the carpeted floor at your feet, with a myriad of toys splayed in front of him.
Why did you always make that face at him, he wondered. Big doe eyes, like deer in headlights, you always looked so stiff and scared around him. Maybe that's why in turn, the kids made that same face, maybe that's why the laughter always stopped when he entered the room. The kids would huddle in closer to you and farther away from him.
"It's nice to see you all together when I come home," he'd say, with that smile still on his face, but you could see the edges of his lips twitching. He was forcing this smile and you forced one back, gently tapping your son with your foot to tell him to do the same. He hesitated for a moment, then beamed up at him with a grin, missing his two front teeth.
"We missed you, papa!" He yelled, just as you told him to. Just the way Childe wanted. Your younger son continued to bury his face in your lap, trying to look any where but his father.
Childe didn't seem bothered by this and leaned down to tousle the boy's orange hair, making him flinch in your hold, "I always loved that they got my hair color," he said while looking at you, eyes so dead and empty, you thought you were looking into a void, "I never realized how well my hair and your eyes went together until I saw them."
"Is that so, my love?" You spoke warmly while gently trying to nudge your son from your lap, "We could talk more about it now. I was just going to send the boys to their rooms."
His expression finally changed. The facade finally fell. His smile dropped and his eyebrows furrowed. You could tell that he was trying to hold the expression back, trying not to scare the children, but they'd already notice his change in demeanor. His shift in attitude making the air feel thick and tight, constricting your chest.
"Why would we do that? We can just talk together, as a family,"
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mouschiwrites · 1 month
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Thinking thoughts about these guys again
Creepypasta/MH - Things That Make Them Think of You
Characters: Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Clockwork, Nina the Killer, Tim/Masky, "Ticci" Toby
Jeff the Killer
Violence. Specifically, committing it
I know that sounds bad, but he gets so high off of that stuff
The adrenaline rushing through his veins, the wild smile that comes to his face, the noise, the sights... it's euphoria for him
And when he reaches his peak, endorphins at maximum saturation, that's when he thinks of you
It's almost like he subconsciously asks himself if there's anything in the world that could make him happy like this, and his subconscious responds by conjuring an image of you
As if he couldn't get any happier, thinking of you just pushes him higher
This happens a lot...
He'll be killing someone, already over the moon, then he'll blast to Mars when he thinks of you
And he starts associating you with violence; even if you're the gentlest person in the world
It's the happiness it brings him that links it to you
Though if you're a psycho (affectionate) like him, there might be another reason he associates it with you lol
It just gets worse over time; eventually he can't even see other people committing violent acts without thinking of you
He'll be watching a horror movie, and blood will splatter the screen and he'll be like: Nice. Y/n's nice too. Y/n... <3
Jane the Killer
Quite the opposite of Jeff; it's the quiet moments that get her thinking of you
(my reasoning is confusing but I'll try my best to explain T-T)
And there are two reasons for this
One, because whenever she gets a moment to think to herself, her brain always wants to think of you first
Maybe it's just hunting that hit of dopamine it gets when she imagines your smile, or the way your hands feel in hers...
Or maybe it's just that it's become a habit for her to think of you so often, so it's second-nature that she does so when she gets the chance
But the second reason is that she loves peace, and you are her peace :)
She's a vengeful person with a lot of turmoil inside, so when her environment is peaceful, she tries to follow suit
She's just taking what she can get before she has to go back to hate and obsession
So she imagines the peaceful things in her life
Namely, you
Even if you're not a very peaceful person, she feels at ease when she's with you
So, when it's quiet, she thinks of you to quiet herself
Memories of forehead touches and holding hands are more than enough to fill the silence :)
Clockwork
Literally everything.
I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but Clockwork will find the most random things that remind her of you
She’s got a very creative mind; she can find the subtlest of things that make her think of you
Oftentimes they’ll be disturbing things…. Like a dead animal or smth
But she gets a little smile when she thinks of you anyway :)
She’ll probably send you a picture of whatever it was that reminded her of you
So you’ll just get a text out of nowhere like:
[picture of a dead wasp] “thought of you <3”
After a while you’ll learn to just not ask
Because you’ll definitely get one of these texts AT LEAST every other day, if not every day
Sometimes they’re actually nice things though! Like a song or a pretty sunset :)
Or something she saw while shopping that made her think of you; she always makes sure to steal …obtain those things
And ofc she gifts them to you 😌
Nina the Killer
I think it depends on your aesthetic
To me, Nina is someone who’s very in tune with aesthetics
Even if yours is super niche, or it doesn’t fit under a specific category like “emo” or “butch” or even “clowncore,” she’s got it DOWN
And so it’s always things that fit your aesthetic that make her think of you
Maybe it’s a view: a dark forest, a bright sunset in your favorite color, a sunny park, an eerily empty sidewalk…
Maybe it’s clothing: pants, shirts, dresses, jackets… always the exact kind of thing you’d wear :)
Maybe it’s music: she listens to music like. All the time. So she’s definitely at least dipped her toes into a genre that’s so totally you
Or maybe it’s something miscellaneous: a pop tart flavor, a blanket, a picture, the color on a soda dispenser…
No matter what it is, you’re guaranteed to love it
She always manages to surprise you with yet another random thing perfectly suited to your aesthetic
And she’s always on the hunt for more >;)
If it’s something she can physically bring to you, you best believe she will though
And if you decide you hate it (you won’t, but maybe later when your aesthetic changes), you guys light a bonfire and burn it together :)
Tim/Masky
It’s a Polaroid picture of you
He’s not in the picture; it’s just you
The flash is on, illuminating you and leaving the background in dark obscurity
He took it himself one night when he was just enamored with the way you looked
He did it casually, just telling you to look at the camera
The rest was all you; maybe you smiled, maybe you threw up a peace sign…
Whatever you did, he felt it captured your essence perfectly
He stared at the photo for a long time after it came out, and he still stares at it frequently
He carries it deep in his wallet where no one can find it
He’ll pull it out when he needs to think of you, usually when he’s especially down
Which is pretty often, my boy is troubled :(
He’ll trace his fingers around the edges, remembering that night
Your voice fills his ears, your scent fills his nose, and suddenly he’s aching to see you in person again
And he will; he’ll probably call or text you soon :)
“Ticci” Toby
Honestly? Probably something super obscure related to some kind of inside joke between you two
I’ll paint an example
Maybe you two were in the kitchen together, and you wanted him to get out the milk for you
But you ended up calling it a “mug of jilk” instead of a “jug of milk”
Toby, of course, bursts into laughter
He teases you for ages afterwards, calling milk “jilk” and always pointing out jugs of milk with a knowing grin
You’re in on it too though
You always snicker whenever he does those things
Maybe that’s why it becomes so special to him; it amuses the both of you
He gets to laugh and hear you laugh :D
So (in this case) he’ll think of you whenever he sees a mug of j (oh gosh oh no you guys got me too) jug of milk
And he probably takes pictures to send you too
You’ll just get a text that says “jilk mugs spotted ‼️” and a picture of the milk aisle at the grocery store
He likes to imagine your laugh when he sends texts like those :)
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Thank you so much for reading!! Take care my lovey doves <33
(divider by saradika)
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mysterystarz · 20 days
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kiss me maybe:
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summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss
pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader
word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)
genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours
warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread
a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented
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It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical. 
Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling. 
To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish. 
Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories. 
And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.
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Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography. 
Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!) 
“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression. 
Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury. 
“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”
“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.” 
You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment. 
Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction. 
For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works. 
“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place. 
“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”
“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.” 
“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”
“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision. 
There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer. 
“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you. 
“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle. 
He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm. 
“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.” 
Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”
“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke. 
“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.” 
You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.” 
The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze. 
However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.
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Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down. 
Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat. 
The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place. 
“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.” 
“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?” 
“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door. 
The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?” 
“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.” 
The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation. 
“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually. 
“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” 
With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name. 
Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing. 
A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.
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Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice. 
“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits. 
Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door. 
“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.  
“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you. 
The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills. 
For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big. 
“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere. 
“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”
As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad. 
“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.” 
“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed. 
“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.” 
“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.” 
“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”
“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”
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You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you. 
You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in. 
“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!” 
You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too. 
The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks. 
When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime. 
“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?” 
“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?” 
“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.” 
For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake. 
Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash. 
In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on. 
“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.” 
“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.” 
Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable. 
A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside. 
Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake. 
This sucked ass. 
You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along. 
Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering,  you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when. 
The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake. 
You could almost call it picturesque. 
You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed. 
The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you. 
They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk. 
“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte. 
“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did.  “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.” 
“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.” 
“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.” 
Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again. 
His presence had a way of putting you at ease. 
The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.
The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you. 
High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much. 
You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings. 
What could be more human than that? 
Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent. 
“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.” 
What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?
“What did they do to you?”
“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations. 
Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better. 
You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space. 
Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness. 
When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours. 
Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out. 
A grand gym and an even grander boy. 
You just avoided him after that.
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“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit. 
To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.
“Yeah, water under the bridge.” 
“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”
“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.” 
“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation. 
“Well-“
“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”
“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.” 
His eyes lit up. “You mean it?” 
You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you. 
“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards. 
“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.” 
You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping. 
“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”
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Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion. 
Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?” 
“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”
“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.” 
“We always love the extra coverage.” 
“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”
“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was. 
“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.” 
“Not true.” He huffed. 
“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.” 
People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager. 
Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with. 
“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.” 
Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.” 
He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?” 
Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.” 
“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”
“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.” 
As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.
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Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.
You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too. 
As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean. 
Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends. 
You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky. 
How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset. 
“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings. 
And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition. 
“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it. 
“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.” 
“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit. 
“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?” 
“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.” 
“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open. 
You weren’t sure what to say. 
A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.
“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.” 
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret. 
“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper. 
Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.
For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine. 
You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.  
Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity. 
Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru. 
Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face. 
“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.” 
You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression. 
“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.” 
Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees. 
You sat down, gesturing for him to join you. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.” 
“It’s been here…?” 
Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.” 
You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?” 
“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.” 
“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.” 
“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.” 
“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.” 
“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.” 
“Iwaizumi says otherwise.” 
“Mean. But seriously, why?” 
You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless. 
“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him. 
Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin. 
“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.” 
“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over. 
“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.” 
You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually. 
“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to. 
“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.” 
“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.” 
With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face. 
The way he looked at you now was like worship. 
“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think. 
“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?” 
Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours. 
Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips. 
Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt. 
You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you. 
The way he held you was reverent. 
When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 
“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much. 
You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.
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Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots. 
Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up. 
He didn’t kiss and tell after all. 
“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.” 
“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could. 
“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.” 
“Am I not allowed to have good days?” 
“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?” 
“With my sets, yes.” 
“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.” 
Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking. 
Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight. 
It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him. 
Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could. 
The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through. 
The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride. 
“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning. 
“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?” 
You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.” 
Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life. 
The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).
The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.
The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness. 
The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness. 
“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!” 
“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.” 
Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you. 
Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through. 
You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.” 
Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?” 
Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.” 
”That is a great idea,” you chimed in. 
“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully). 
”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.” 
The team went silent. “You have a what?!”
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The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously. 
“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.” 
You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”
You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together. 
“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.” 
“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.” 
“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.” 
Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?” 
You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her. 
Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty. 
She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?” 
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur. 
“When?” 
“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you. 
“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly. 
“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.” 
“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing. 
“Shush.” 
The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house. 
She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.” 
You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did. 
“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.” 
“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold. 
“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.” 
“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?” 
“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.” 
He was planning on not headlining the booth?
Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest. 
Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like. 
“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out. 
“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.” 
Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory. 
“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.
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When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing. 
That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag. 
“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever). 
You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth. 
“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.” 
“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside. 
“Wow. How did you know about the name?” 
“I have my sources,” you winked. 
Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.” 
“So you do know.” 
“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.” 
You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you. 
“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.” 
“We don’t have to right now.” 
“Thanks Tooru.” 
“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.” 
You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?” 
Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.” 
You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes. 
“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance. 
“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” 
You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.” 
“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“ 
“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.” 
You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle. 
“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.” 
You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.” 
Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty. 
Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.
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When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively. 
He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response. 
”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.” 
Correction: something was horrifically wrong. 
“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.  
“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.” 
Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to. 
However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment. 
“Were you guys dating?”
“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”
“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?” 
You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet. 
“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.” 
At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.” 
“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.” 
The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant. 
Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus. 
You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled. 
Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame. 
“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been. 
“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.” 
“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?” 
“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.” 
“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?” 
Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.” 
You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.” 
“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”
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“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room. 
“Je suis fâché.” 
“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.” 
“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?” 
“Je ne veux pas continuer.” 
“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again. 
He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now. 
“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move. 
He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air. 
Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth. 
“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?” 
Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.” 
“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.” 
“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.” 
Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.” 
He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?” 
Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you. 
He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you. 
When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours. 
Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this. 
“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.” 
“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”
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You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid. 
Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall. 
Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point. 
Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him). 
“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.” 
“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up. 
“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.” 
“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react. 
You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it. 
“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.” 
You nodded.
“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance.  I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.” 
“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”
“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?” 
You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad. 
“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?” 
Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling. 
“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.” 
You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile. 
You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?” 
“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.
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As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today. 
Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign. 
The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually. 
He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths. 
“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop. 
“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!” 
Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!” 
He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands. 
He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations. 
The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.
To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit). 
“This is pretty amazing, huh?” 
Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him. 
“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.” 
“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?” 
Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound 
that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.” 
Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?” 
Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.” 
The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?” 
“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure. 
“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”
“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.” 
Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool. 
Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week. 
Maybe today would be okay after all.
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You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you. 
Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself. 
Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.  
Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa? 
You weren’t sure. 
The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass. 
Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit. 
“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.” 
“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”
Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money. 
He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”
You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.” 
Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.” 
You snickered. “Not a chance.” 
Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.
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“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.” 
“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row. 
The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later. 
Soon enough, you were at the front of the line. 
“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?” 
“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.” 
You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”
Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in. 
For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands. 
The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene. 
You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today. 
You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range. 
This was intriguing. 
“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding. 
“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!” 
“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.” 
In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye. 
“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.
“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.” 
“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand. 
“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable. 
Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line. 
“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line. 
“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered. 
“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?” 
“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.” 
The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra. 
“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.” 
“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand. 
“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple. 
“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress. 
“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said. 
“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.” 
Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. 
He really had meant everything. You needed to see him. 
When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss. 
You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you. 
You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them. 
You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was. 
Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands. 
“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 
This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession. 
It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections. 
“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe. 
“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.
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©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited
if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!
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duskyvenus · 8 months
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Super Blue Moon: What you need to hear right now
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This is a general intuitive reading meant for entertainment purposes. Take whatever resonates. I am still practicing my intuitive ability so feedback would be really helpful :))
Pile 1
You might be wanting peace, a quiet life. I'm seeing walks in the nature, consuming healthy unprocessed food, lots of fruits. You might like red or orange colored fruits (could be any). I'm sensing changes in lifestyle. Maybe you will relocate or renovate your home (changing your aesthetics and style). Your soulmate(romantic) or current partner or future partner(whatever resonates) is sending you messages of affirmation. Also they might like to stare at you and admire your features lol. I'm hearing: It's all about the little things. Maybe this is something you believe in or it is about to become a theme in your life in the near future. A short trip or holiday might soothe your nerves a bit, preferably somewhere cooler. Overall, I think change is coming your away; there's this picture of letting things go and relaxing in a lodge in the mountains while sunlight creeps in through the window. Yeah lots of sunshine imagery in this pile. It's about how the sun slowly warms you up. Slowly and surely you will be moving to the next stage.
Pile 2
Similar to pile 1, I think you might be in need of some sunlight lol. I'm seeing something about hobbies, so maybe you need to get back to them? You might not have completed a previous painting, book, blanket or whatever. I'm also seeing cakes which means some kind of celebration. It might be your friend's birthday soon. Yeah I'm hearing about a dear friend, someone you think is your soulmate (for some of you, they are :] ). Or maybe a connection where either person has romantic feelings and the other feels neutral. Some of you might be studying hard and preparing for your future job and you're trying to keep a positive mindset. I see so many drawings and scribbles in a notebook. This is the student pile. I'm also seeing baked food and the aroma of cafes. Maybe you like to do your work in a cafe with a cup of coffee and some cake. Also you might be secretive and like to keep things to yourself. Might be a homebody. You are working to chase a reward and you're feeling frustrated because the path is so long. Don't be too hard on yourself. Set small goals and reward yourself for finishing them.
Pile 3
Whimsical and airy vibes for this pile. I'm hearing that you might have witnessed something paranormal? Or something that just can't be real. Hmm existential crisis? Questioning the universe? Questioning yourself? I'm seeing wings. You might be wanting to just fly away lol. Or they could be angel wings. You might be feeling lonely. Recently you might have ended a friendship or relationship OR you might have lost someone so you feel empty. I'm really sorry for your loss :( A big phase of your life suddenly came to an end so you're feeling lost. Old memories flashing in your head. Though I also feel that someone wants to approach you with hopes of making new memories with you. They seem like a very doting person and also calm. 'Calm'; your head is a mess and you feel like you're not able to think clearly. You might be asking yourself, "Am I seeing/hearing things?", "Why am I not able to do such a simple task?" Maybe your spirit guides or guardian angel want(s) to communicate with you and for that I'm hearing lavender and mint. Meditation may also help you to sort out your thoughts.
Pile 4
This is the happy-go-lucky pile. I'm seeing you have so much fun with your friends! You seem like the type to uplift people's moods. It feels empty when you're not around. You might feel pressured to keep up this cheerful image. Lately someone might have been rude to you or accused you of something or just bad-mouthed you. You might have felt taken aback because of this and tried to reflect on yourself. Don't worry, they're just jealous. Maybe you started thinking about the time when your demeanor was very different from now; you were not a cheerful person to begin with, but you started acting this way because you wanted to be treated differently. Now that there has been a sudden rejection that is asking you to re evaluate your choices, you are considering reverting back to your old self. Or maybe you think a lot about your friendships and just feel overwhelmed by the love :( This is so wholesome. You feel deeply and often wonder about the outcomes of your actions. I think that's why you wanted change, you genuinely wanted to be of help to someone. Your friends really appreciate it even though they won't admit openly (for some of you, your friend is a tsundere lol)
Pile 5
An ethereal energy in this pile. Stargazing and being mesmerized. You know that feeling you get when you look up at the stars and wonder if someone is watching you? I think your guardian angels want you to know that they are always there for you. If not a guardian angel then a deceased loved one. You have big aspirations but you often feel intimidated. You may have doubts about the path you're choosing. I just want to say that you have the star quality and you're blessed. I'm hearing fate and good luck. If you have been manifesting, try using candles or star shaped objects. You can even use them as a lucky charm. "You drew stars around my scars" - this may apply to you and someone you know. Something about light at the end of the tunnel. 'Hope' ; someone or something gives you hope to keep going. You're working really hard, you just wonder if you'll get the results. This kind of reminds me of pile 2 so you might want to check that out. "Funny how all dreams come true"
Pile 6
You might be talking to someone and you don't really know where this is going? You can say it's a situation-ship. Or you're crushing hard on someone. Either way this is making you giddy. You might also be transforming yourself and so all the changes are making you feel giddy. A very new feeling. You're trying to look at things differently. You're trying to concentrate. You're craving some form of affection. The message I'm getting is that self care will help you get that faster. Also I'm hearing that you have a vibe that is easy to mesh with. People often find you attractive even when you're not doing anything. "Aphrodite's blessings" - you may get the glow-up you've been waiting for. Similar starry night vibes as pile 5. You're also really good at giving compliments and appreciating the beauty of the smallest things. You are a very loving person if you are given the space to do so. "Hang in there baby." - your future partner could be very devoted to you.
A channeled message for everyone: Please eat well !! And have some good sleep!! Take your vitamins!!
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motherloads · 8 months
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Meet Me in the Pale Moonlight
Disclaimer: I absolutely love Jenny in the film! Too bad I like writing miscommunication. No bashing of Jenny!
The reader was supposed to be brooding and menacing? But she’s a wreck with a symbiote lol.
My spanish is also pretty meh in writing despite being Mexican myself. I speak better than I write! Pls keep that in mind ◡̈
Summary: The reader watches on the sidelines as Jenny and her longtime crush, Jaime Reyes become close to one another. Being Milagro's closest friend, she dreads when she has to come over and see the lovebirds.
But who says her little friend would allow this to happen? And who says what she sees is true?
->Pairings: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader
-> Use of (Name).
-> Marvel/DC crossover (mentioned Eddie Brock, Peter Parker, and relations to other fic)
->Warning: So much miscommunication, murder talk, and spinal cord removal :(
Once again, please ignore grammar mistakes.
⋆。°✩
I'm the sweetest girl in town so why are you so mean? When you gonna ditch that stupid, you got? It's me you should be seeing.
"Are you just going to continue to stare?" Milagro questions her close friend, who stares at her brother with a pair of love-sick eyes. "Dude, just go talk to him."
"Can't really do that," Her friend hums in response, "Look, Kord is walking over to him. Now he's going to have the brightest smile ever and then they'll hug Then she's going to pat him on the back and start helping him with your house remodel. Look! They're doing it!"
Exactly at that point, Jaime laughs as Jenny pushes him over, grabbing the paintbrush on her own and assisting him with the cream-colored outer walls. Jaime shakes his head in response, nudging her back.
"So what? I'm his sister, and what I can tell you is that they are NOT together. They're just really good friends!" Milagro explains, quieting down when Jaime looks over. "Come on, clear it up. I don't want to see my best friend so sad."
"I'm grieving," She pouts, lowering herself into the chair, "You don't see what I see. They are definitely together."
"Si no lo preguntas, nunca vas a saber," Another voice exclaims. Both girls turn their heads to her mother who shakes her head at them. "Don't be shy! I don't want my future daughter-in-law to lose her chance."
Feeling her face heat up, she looks away from the older woman's words. "I know he's your son, but I can't. I'm sorry."
Maybe if you weren't such a pussy, you would have gotten the guy. Does the K-dramas we watch together not mean anything?
The sudden voice caused her to jump straight into her seat. Narc had been quiet since she had arrive at the Reyes’ house hold. She hadn’t expected them to speak at all since he rarely did when she was at their residence. At first, it was off putting to never hear the familiar voice, but she slowly grew used to the silence.
Born out of wedlock from the original symbiote, Narc had been the symbiote who had begun their stay before she arrived in this Universe. They were the only connection she had to the life she once had. Or was it the other being stuck here as well? She wasn’t sure, she ignored all contact to the woman connected to her in more ways than one.
"K-Dramas are not real, idiot." She hissed under her breath.
"Did you say something, Mija?" Mrs. Reyes questions, resting her hand under the woman's chin. "You often talk to yourself, just like little Jaime."
"Mama!" Jaime calls out, "I'm not little anymore! Come on, don't tell her that!"
"You are little, cabrón. Don't you remember the incident? Naked con tus chiquito huevitos." His Uncle Rudy cackles, "Don't you remember that, ama?"
Their Nana shakes her head in response, smiling broadly at the memory. Milagro begins to laugh as well while Jenny sits beside the girls with a small nod in the direction of (Name). She returns the gesture, crossing her hands as she ignored how hard her heart hammered.
"I'm lost," (Name) murmurs, "So, so lost...But anyway, I have to head out. Thank you for having me!"
"Come by anytime, (Name)." Jaime grins, walking up to her and hugging the girl tightly, "Just remember to ignore anything they say about me, okay? Don't want them ruining anything."
"They're your family, I don't think they are capable of doing so," She pats his back, looking down at Milagro who fake kisses the air in front of her. Jenny seems to notice as she raises her eyebrows at the duo still hugging.
"You can let me go now, Jaime." (Name) murmurs into his ear, "Don't want her getting the wrong idea."
Jaime pulls away, smiling at the girl in front of him. His eyes flickered down for a second before he looked back at her, "Sorry?" She smiles sadly at him as she moves towards her vehicle. She refuses to look at the family behind her as she hears the conversation pick up again.
I think we should kill her.
"Absolutely not. There is a new hero here, Narc. We can't just murder a well-known figure and expect to get away with it." She groans, buckling her seat belt. She looks back at the family once more as she shifts her gear to drive.
We've done it once. And we can do it again.
"I don't think killing the Green Goblin counts for anything! He was already crazier than us, so the headlines were thanking us!" She exclaims.
His brain was nasty anyway.
⋆。°✩
"Do you think Blue Beetle is cool?" Milagro asks, absentmindedly moving her straw around in boredom. "Personally, I think he's a huge nerd. What do you think?"
"Who says you can bother me on my shift?" (Name) frowns, cleaning the bar top in front of her, "And how did they let you in?"
"I have my ways," Milagro grins, "Answer my question. I need to know."
"I think he's...unique? From the news I have seen of him, it's obvious he is of Hispanic Descent. His suit is otherworldly, so I'm assuming it's some kind of alien tech he is using. Definitely not Superman, though." (Name) shrugs, moving the alcoholic beverages aside as she begins assisting the bartenders alongside her.
"Do you think he's cute under his mask?" Milagro leans closer, "Would you date him?"
I would eat him.
"I wouldn't eat him," (Name) responds instead. She pauses as the conversation around her began to quiet down. Some stared at her while others whispered to their compadres nearby.
"I...didn't ask that? I asked if you think he's cute and if you would date him. Dude, where the hell is your mind thinking right now?" Milagro whispers, eyeing the men nearby, "God, I’ve always hated this bar. A bunch of chismosos who are almost always cheating on their wives here. They're always eyeing you too. How do you handle that?"
"First, I can't tell if Blue Beetle is cute based on his voice. Second, I wouldn't date him since I am sooo hung up on your brother." Milagro snorts. "Lastly, this is the only bar that offers the minimum wage. I can handle drunk men well, I've always had."
The conversation began to pick up again as most began focusing on the news displayed in front of them. Blue Beetle was shown on live television, fighting off rogue soldiers from Victoria Kord's force. Despite the woman being long gone, the impact she made had not quite disappeared.
"I knew you were still into him! I say you ask him out! You ain't a homewrecker if he isn't in a relationship!"
"Didn't you say Kord and Jaime kissed? That your whole family cheered for the couple?"
"A fluke! It's a fluke I swear, but it is complicated! Just ask Jaime, please? It would be so cool for us to be family."
"If our lives are ever in danger at this very bar, then I'll ask." (Name) turns away from Milagro's eyes, "That means it will never ha-"
Her voice gets cut off when bullets begin hitting the bar's windows, causing the occupants to duck down to safety. Many of the drunken men tried to escape but most were quickly shot down by the bullets.
Milagro screams, ducking down into a crouch as the bullets continue. (Name) ignores the danger as she maneuvers her way through the destruction. She grabs Milagro, forcing the girl to look her in the eyes. "I need you to hide behind the bar, okay? The bullets won't get you. We will protect you.”
"W-who's we?" Milagro cries as (Name) pushes her behind the bar. There was silence for a moment as screams echoed in the bar. "(Name)? Where are you going?" She pushed Milagro down, moving her way from the bar corner as she looked at the bodies around her. Many men stayed below tables, looking at her in fear as she counted the people alive.
"Nobody get up. It’s not ove-" Her words get cut off when bullets pierce through her whole body. She is flung against the countertop as a bullet pierces too close to her heart. She hears her name being called out as Milagro tries to find her way to the woman.
She smiles at the tear-stained face in her vision. The fear in the other girl's eyes was evident as she continued to scream her name. At that moment, smoke bombs are thrown through the window. The screams had begun to mesh together, the fog covering the vision of the little who were still alive.
She feels the blood oozing out of her mouth, the familiar metallic filling up her mouth. She sputters, not being able to breathe.
It's your turn.
My turn.
Shoes stepping on glass were all everyone heard as the perpetrators stepped through the mess they caused. They held their gun up in return, moving through the fog stealthily. As they communicated with one another, they grew unnoticed by the thing they had angered.
"Find the Reyes girl. She is to be left alive." One spoke up, "Kill every survivor." The main soldier calls out. They await the confirmation of the others but they hear nothing. "I need an affirmative."
The soldier gets smacked in response, feeling themselves recoil from the weight against their body. When they look down at the unfamiliar weight, they begin to scream.
The weight crushing them was there comrade. Left unrecognizable with no head in sight. The blood wafts through their mask. They begin to gag as they try to pull the body off of them. They freeze up when a bloodied helmet rolls closer. Empty and dented, the helmet hits their shoe with a loud clank.
The fog begins to clear up, displaying the mess left behind. The soldier tensed when they noticed the bodies presented around the room. Many hung from the lights, their necks cracking from the added weight of their helmet. Others were hazardously thrown against tables. One had a table leg pierced through their helmet.
"Why must humans be so selfish? Is this fun for you, you pathetic piece of shit?" The soldier whimpers in response, turning their eyes away from the figure crouching in front of their face.
The creature, despite crouching, was still overlooking the only soldier left alive. The disarray and multi-color of the night sky reflected back to the onlookers who began to murmur about the new being. They tilt their head and leaned closer to the soldier, their bright, soulless eyes stared into the helmet. They licked the sharp smile forming from the fear they felt radiating off the soldier.
"Unlike the Blue Beetle, we do not care about the lives of our victims. What do you think happens next?"
"W-What the hell are you?"
"If you must know, my host has named us Narc. Will you beg for your life now?"
The Soldier rips their helmet off, looking at Narc with a look of fear, "Please. Please. I'm sorry. I'll never do this again, please!"
"He had once told us the same. You are just like the others. Pathetic. Unworthy. A perfect meal."
A scream is ripped through his victim's vocal cords as Narc bites down. Blood seeped through their mouth as they ripped out the spinal cord in one sharp turn. Narc stands, spitting their leftovers to the side.
"Hey, ugly!" A voice called out, "What the hell are you doing, man?"
Narc cranes their neck towards the entrance of the bar, watching as Blue Beetle floated at his place. They both stared at each other, unmoving.
"Blue Beetle!" A voice calls out, Milagro moving from her hiding spot to the blue-and-black-clad hero. "My friend is gone! She was just--where is she?" She turns her head towards Narc, who stares down at the shaking girl.
"Get away from it!" Blue Beetle yells, flying through the bar as he centers himself between Milagro and Narc. "Take it up with me and not the civilians!"
"He just--he ate all the soldiers--" Milagro gasps, stepping behind Blue Beetle, "I saw what he did--"
"You--What the hell are you?" Blue Beetle points his palms toward Narc, who continues to stare in silence.
"Does my figure scare you? I can hear your heartbeat." Narc cranes their head towards Milagro. Blue Beetle blocks her from their eyesight. “Worry not, we do not hurt the innocent.”
With those words, Narc feels their familiar bulking figure die down to their less impending figure. The duo are lost for words at the new figure presented in front of them.
"I'm so sorry I think I misgendered you--" Milagro's eyes stayed pinned to the pair of boobs Narc had.
"Where's (Name)?" Blue Beetle turns his head around, "Khaji-Da says she is still here! She was working, right?" His questions are to Milagro.
None of the three seemed to notice the survivors running out of the bar.
"She is here. With me." Narc hums, moving closer to Blue Beetle, "Is Khaji-Da your symbiote?"
"Symb--what? What do you mean (Name) is with you?"
"Jaime Reyes. You are a host are you not?"
"Stop avoiding my questions! Where is she?! How do you know my name--That is not my name! I do not know Jaime Reyes. Do you?"
"I have known of the scarab on your back since the beginning. Do not worry, (Name) remains clueless, for now."
"Why are you saying her name as if you know her?" Milagro questions.
Narc purrs, tilting their head closer to Blue Beetle who stepped back hesitantly. "We have known each other for a long time. We are bonded together until she dies. She is my key to survival in your world. She is me. I am her. We are one. We are Narc."
“Like Narcotics? Did she get you from a drug? She doesn’t seem like the type to do drugs.” Milagro questions, stepping closer to the duo, “And why are you so close? I can smell you from here!”
“We are host and symbiote. We am not from here, you see. Your alien won’t know of us.”
Milagro and Blue Beetle share a look, communicating with silent words. Blue Beetle lowers his hand, allowing Narc to step closer. The symbiote smiles, their purrs growing louder.
“I see why she likes you.”
With those words, Narc sinks into (Name)'s skin, leaving the woman defenseless from the eyes of her long-time crush and friend. She drops to the floor, her wounds patching over themselves with a familiar goo.
Blue Beetle drops to the floor, bringing (Name) close to his body. He rocks her back and forth as Milagro stumbles beside him. Her eyes were bloodshot and the tears that disappeared has formed all over again.
"Why didn't she tell us? Why didn't she tell me?" Blue Beetle, now Jaime who removed his helmet. He leans his forehead on the woman and murmurs into her hair. He kisses her temple as Milagro continues to cry.
"Why didn't she tell us her hero name is literally short for Narcotics?!"
⋆。°✩
(Name) awakes to a horrible headache splintering her head. She groans as she shifts closer to the warmth of an unfamiliar body. She nuzzles in closer to the warmth, groaning at the light against her eyelids.
"Narc turn off the lights...I feel like I've just been shot." She moans, gripping her blanket tighter against her body, "I'm going out with Milagro later. I have to go buy cat food..."
"Milagro is taking care of Eddie, don't worry." A familiar voice whispers against her head, "Just go back to sleep. I'll block the sunlight."
"Thanks, Jaime..." Processing the name that came out, she jumps away from the warmth. She stares at Jaime, who stares back in equal shock and sleepiness. His hair was a mess, pointing in different directions. She presses her hand to her mouth, gasping behind it.
"Oh my god. We didn't have sex, did we? If so, that would be awkward because you are my best friend's brother and you literally have a girlfriend. I can't even get drunk so it's impossible for me to forget--oh my god am I in your house?"
"Hey, Hey," Jaime soothes her, smiling at the woman freaking out in his bed, "We didn't have sex and we were not drunk. You were...shot multiple times and some things came to light, but it's okay now, I promise."
"I'm still sleeping in your bed though! You could have left me, being shot doesn't stop me! We were holding each other?! What would Kord think if she saw this now?" She grips the unfamiliar sweater covering her body, feeling her legs shift through from under the sheets and hit against Jaime's.
"Jenny? What about Jenny? We aren't...We aren't dating if that's what you're worried about." Jaime grabbed her by the face, locking eyes with her who looked anywhere but him. "I can't just leave you when you were hurt."
"Milagro said you two kissed."
"We did once have feelings for each other. But it's long gone now, it was just a...heat of a moment kind of thing." Jaime brings her cheeks towards his chest, which she just noticed had nothing covering him from her eyes. Her hands stopped short on his stomach. She felt his stomach flutter in response.
"Besides, I like someone else. I like you."
She feels her heart stop at his confession.
Knew it.
"No shit." She exclaims, looking up at Jaime who smiles down at her doe-like look.
"I do." He whispers back. They both stared at one another until he leaned closer to her face. She felt his breath fan her face as she wrinkled her nose.
"You stink." She snorts, moving her hands to the back of his neck. He laughs at her words.
"Yours smells much worse. Now, come here--" She cuts him off, smashing her lips to his. He holds her waist, bringing her to sit on his lap. Her tongue finds his, leaning closer as her hand moves to stay on his chest. Biting his lip, she softly sucks it lightly. She opens her eyes to find his eyes half-lidded, enjoying the moment.
When she pulls away, her lips find his neck, kissing down to his collarbone. Pulling her hand back to his neck, she inhales his scent.
"Couldn't have waited until I was asleep. You are always like this. The same exact way with Peter Parker."
They both jump at the new voice, turning their heads towards Narc who floated their head around the room, reading the boxes that held different items. She turns her head to Jaime, eyes wide, waiting for him to begin screaming.
"Narc-uh. They explained more about your origins with each other. After finding them standing in a bloodbath, Milagro and I thought the worst had happened but someone--something told me to let Narc explain."
"They told you about our.... situationship?" She questions, gripping onto Jaime's bicep. "You're supposed to be running away--not making out with me!"
"And you! You aren't supposed to be out. You're grounded!" She growls, pulling Jaime's face into the crook of her neck, "You told him everything, huh? Why can't you ever keep secrets? She'll be angry our cover was blown!"
She ignored the look Narc gives, opting to continue her rant, “Asshole, is it because I’m not letting you meet Red Robin? You know it isn’t allowed!”
"The other youngling saw you get shot. Was I supposed to act as if I ate you instead?"
"Actually, yes! Nobody is supposed to know, you promised. We promised Eddie."
"You made a promise to your cat?" Jaime's muffled voice questions. Despite the situation, he bites her neck. "Who is Peter Parker?"
She glares at Narc, who innocently whistles. "No one Jaime, he is no one."
"Former boy toy." Narc responds instead, "Hell of an amateur kisser."
"You kissed him! Not me!" She turns to Jaime, pulling his head back to stare at him, "I'm so sorry, I don't know why they're acting this way. I'll go right now, seriously. I don't want you in our mess."
"Relax," Jaime comforts, grabbing her hand that stayed on his cheek. He smiles at her, "I can protect myself. Look--"
She felt him shift from under her, watching in shock as his body began to be covered by a familiar suit she had seen countlessly on television. Everything except his face was covered in armor. Whilst she analyzed the markings on his suit, Narc moved closer as well.
"Does your scarab only speak to you?" Narc asks, "It is unlike anything I have seen on my planet. Do you feed them as well?"
"They aren't really fed? They don't need sustenance. Khaji-Da only talks to me in my head so they're like a second voice...and planet?"
"This is going to be a long talk," She sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly, "At least you don't have to feed them human brains..."
"What?" Jaime recoils, looking at the two with wide eyes, "I'm sorry? Brains? Like Zombies? The Walking Dead? Like zombies from The Last of Us?!"
"I thought you told him everything!"
"I would never tell of my eating habits! Humans are judgemental!"
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Two Peas In A Pod
—A blessing... or a calamity in disguise?
Fandom: Blue Lock
Pairing: Nagi X Fem!Reader
Genre: Crack, Humor, Horror
Format: Short fic
Warnings: Breast feeding, Jealousy, Probably ooc!Nagi
Word Count: 1.5K
A/n: Idk I just thought this would fit him lol. Might remind you of boss baby.
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There are moments in life which can never be forgotten. Long awaited moments that leave a sweet velvety taste in your mouth and get engraved on your memory,
Moments like this.
Nagi is in hospital, standing next to the delivery room with his infant in his arms. He's wearing the most genuine smile he could ever wear, staring at his baby boy's angelic face. The baby has the tiniest hands ever that would get lost in his if he were to hold them, and the cutest chubby feet ever. He could just eat them right away.
"Wow Nagi, he looks just like you!" Reo says, smiling at the sight while snapping a picture. "You two are like two peas in the pod, except that his hair isn't long enough to be as messy as yours"
"I know. I did hope he'd take after y/n, but he's still cute"
Your husband looks so grown up like this with a baby in his hands. That's what makes Reo to snap another picture, this time in full frame of both Nagi and the baby. His smile is as soft as when he watched him saying his vow to you, and he can't help but to feel happy for his best friend.
"I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee and call Isagi and others. They've been waiting for the news"
"Ok"
Nagi's gaze doesn't leave the baby's face to follow Reo's footsteps walking away. He persistently stares at the baby's closed eyelids, wondering if they're hazel colored like his, or have the color of your eyes. Maybe it's a mixture of both, he thinks, if it's possible. He doesn't have to wait for long to find out though, because suddenly, the baby's eyelids start shuddering and in less than a second, they're wide open, displaying the warm chocolate brown color of his eye balls.
Every inch of his figure resembles his father. Even the look in his eyes is curious, just like Nagi's is right now.
"Welcome home, little thing. We're gonna have so much fun together, me and you"
"I don't think that's gonna happen"
Nagi doesn't know whether he should believe his ears, or his eyes. A talking baby? That's a miracle! Babies don't start talking until they're two years old, but this one in his arms was definitely the one talking a little while before, since his intense stare is piercing through Nagi's heart.
I must have very strong genes.
"What do you mean, that's not gonna happen?"
"Oh sorry, I guess I wasn't being clear on the matter" The baby speaks in a semi-grown up voice. "I meant that, you won't be having much fun from now on"
"How come?"
The baby's innocent expression is all gone. Now there's a straight yet devilish look on his face which Nagi doesn't find charming. "I thought you would already figure out that much, but I guess I was wrong. Heh...what a pain"
"Stop giving me that shit and tell me already"
"You don't care much for sharing; do you, my dear father?"
Oh.
Nagi doesn't like where this is going. He feels an unwelcoming sense of threat in his heart.
"So what? Are you saying you're gonna steal y/n from me?"
"No..."
The grin on the baby's face isn't casual. All of a sudden, Nagi doesn't find a single thing resembling him. The baby looks more like... Light Yagami from death note, the blond version.
"...I'm saying that I already have"
This can't be happening.
"Tough luck. You'll never be able to split us off. Y/n's love for me is boundless. I'm her one and only"
"You were her one and only" His gums are visible through his demonic smirk. "Now that I'm here, you won't get a quarter of the attention you used to receive. From now on, I'll be the one who sleeps in her arms at— well all the time. She'll always be near me, looking after me since I'm just a fragile little thing. The time she used to spend alone with you is gonna be limited to less than ten minutes, and your share of affection will also be mine. Even if you two do get the time to be alone with each other, she'll be too exhausted to even look at your face. She wouldn't miss it, since she gets to be with me all the time"
The world comes crashing down on the white haired man. Through his storming mind, he can see himself curled up under the strangely ice cold blanket while staring at you frustratingly, asking you to get in the bed with him already. But standing on the other side of the room, it feels like you're a thousand miles away, voice barely making its way to his hear yet so destructively striking him, saying you have to put the baby to sleep first. Even after doing that, you're so tired that you pass out on the bed before Nagi can even lay a finger on you.
"Not only that, I'm gonna take away all the other things you enjoy as well"
Another illusion appears before his eyes, only this time he's sitting on the couch, and you're standing in front of him, wearing a somewhat annoyed expression.
"I'm sorry Sei, but we can't afford to buy more video games anymore. We have to start saving up for Light's college"
No.... that can't be real. He can't give up on his video games for a serial killer's his child's future. That's absurd. You're not expecting him to do that, are you? You know how video games are important to him.
"Just you wait my stupid father, I will take everything you cherish in your life, and it starts from this very moment, with your most loved one"
His most... loved one?
Just as he's about to ask the little demon about his intention, the door to the room opens and a nurse comes out. "Alright! It's the baby's lunch time"
No. Not that.
"His lunch time? You mean, y/n's gonna feed her...?"
Nagi's voice is shivery, like he didn't know about how the babies drink milk. The nurse is a little taken aback by that, but still keeps her smile on.
"Yes sir, he needs to be fed right now, so if I may..." She reaches out to take the baby from his embrace, but fails when Nagi steps back.
"You... can't do that. I mean, this baby looks like he should drink formula milk instead of breast milk. It'll be better for him"
"The hell are you talking about, Nagi? Let the nurse take him to y/n" Reo suddenly appears next to him, giving him a questioning look.
"No— You don't understand— I—"
"What's up with you man? Here, ma'am; take the little thing to his mommy"
Nagi feels all the misery existing in the world raining on him as he watches the nurse take the infant to you. Reo looks away when you pull up your hospital gown to reveal the enchanting sight of your breast that are bigger than usual and are full of milk, all ready to be devoured in the baby devil's throat. This is it. The beginning of his torment, the sight of his most comforting treasure being possessed by another person, shattering his heart into a zillion pieces.
"No..."
The baby squeezes your right nipple with his hand, letting out a small whine.
"Stop it... No..."
You softly caress his cheek and baby talk him to enjoy his meal.
Why can't all of you people see his devilish smirk?
"No..."
The baby looks at him from the corner of his eyes. He's taking his most special thing, his stress balls, his warm pillows he snuggles his face into at nights, his soft squishies he plays with whenever he's bored, his delicious jello balls he sucks on to help him go to sleep...
"No... No... No..."
You hold your left boob and snuggle him closer to help him drink, and he helps himself out, by brutally taking it into his mouth.
It happens.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
Then Nagi wakes up from his sleep.
Through his blurry vision, he recognizes his room in the middle of the night, and of course, your kind hand on his shoulder.
"Sei? Are you ok sweetheart?"
Nagi keeps panting. He hurriedly looks around the room to see any sign of the baby, but thankfully, he finds nothing. He can't ignore the cute bump of your belly under your oversized T-shirt though.
"Y/n?"
"Yeah?"
"If the baby looks like me we'll give it away"
"Excuse me??!"
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All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.
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theostrophywife · 11 months
Note
here with a fluffy request :D i ask only for eris or cassian fluff. maybe aftercare. maybe just a sweet romantic moment. idk, its up to you!! but soft kisses are a must tho because that sounds adorable rn lol
your writing is amazing btw. i find myself constantly going back to reread it!
cotton candy kisses.
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author’s note: you are too sweet 🥹 here's some baby boy cassian. (and maybe something for eris in a separate post what? who said that)
“does that feel good, baby?”
you sighed softly, nodding in appreciation as cassian massaged your scalp. the rose scented shampoo soothed your nerves as did your mate’s fingers which felt heavenly in your hair. the warm bath water licked at your skin, making you flush and sleepy. with half-closed lids, you hummed in appreciation and leaned into your mate's touch.
“your hands are magic, cas.”
cassian chuckled as you leaned back into him, his strong, muscled chest a solid plane behind you. you kissed the top of his knee as he cradled you between his thighs. he took great care and handled you gently, working out the kinks in your shoulders and rubbing soap over your aching muscles. it was such a stark contrast from your earlier activities in the bedroom when you both practically tore each other’s clothes off and pushed your bodies to the limit.
“you deserve it, sweetheart. that was a workout back there. i was afraid that we’d broken the mattress. again.”
you chuckled. “you do love to put that headboard through hell.”
your mate grinned. “don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”
“i do,” you said with a grin, “but not as much as i love you.”
cassian kissed your cheek. “i love you too, peach.”
you reached up to weave your fingers together. “will you give me a bun? like yours?” turning to your side, you beamed and poked cassian’s signature half bun. “i wanna match.”
the smile that bloomed on cassian’s face took your breath away. despite being mated for decades, you never really grew accustomed to how beautiful he was. every line and curve of his face was ingrained in your memory, the stunning color of his eyes, chocolate brown with mossy green and flecks of gold marked your soul, and the scar through his right brow was a landmark that denoted home.
there was a warmth to him, sometimes it was the burning flame of passion and other times, in moments like these, he was the cozy heat emanating from an ever trusty hearth. it was in the gentle way he gathered your hair, trailing soft kisses along your jaw and temple as he tied your curls back.
cassian turned you around to admire his work. “i think you pull off the bun better than i do, peach.”
“never,” you said, crawling into his lap. soap suds slicked skin brushed against you as you wrapped your arms around cassian's neck. “i could never be as cute as you, baby.”
your mate chuckled as he pulled you into his arms. he nuzzled his nose against yours and showered you with tiny kisses. “yeah? you think i’m cute?”
“mhm,” you murmured, twirling a strand of his silky raven hair as you tugged him down to you. “you’ve got a cute bun. and a cute face. and the cutest ass.”
cassian chuckled and tilted your chin up, his lips meeting yours perfectly. he lavished you with cotton candy kisses, soft and sweet and slow. the two of you took your time, kissing like it was the first time. kissing like you were still shy teenagers in the throes of puppy love. your fingers in his hair, his hands on your hips, lips velvet and plush and oh so intoxicating.
you moaned softly as his tongue brushed gently along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. like a flower in spring, you bloomed for cassian. your skin tingled as you kissed and kissed until your lips were swollen. still, it never felt like enough.
gods, you could’ve kissed him forever.
“my sweet peach,” cassian whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. you nipped at his bottom lip, savoring the taste of him. his kisses were intoxicating. you wanted to drown in it. in him.
“hmm,” you sighed dreamily. “more kisses, please. i wanna feel your lips on mine, cas. always.”
your mate kissed you once, twice, three times. "all my kisses are for you, peach. always."
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ourserendipity · 24 days
Text
samsara of shattered dreams: past
(aventurine x gn!reader x dr. ratio) just some heads up, this happened before the whole penacony arc in the story. No Beta read 😎😎 (That's all I think lol. Anyways I'll be leaving for a while cuz I'll be busy and shiz 🥲🥲. hope y'all enjoyy✿) Part 1/3
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Memories. Like glass, they glisten the beauty reflected by the light giving its vivid colors, and yet they are oh so frail; like the fleeting flow of life, sudden yet steady at the same time.
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Looking back, you wouldn't have thought that you would see yourself in this situation; not that you already foresaw your fate in the first place. Still, there's the feeling of regret lingering at the back of your mind; one that is not directed towards you but rather to the things that you've done. If only, if only you had the power to change the course of fate maybe this wouldn't have been necessary, if only one could stop the other's heart breaking perhaps goodbyes weren't needed to be said. But alas, destiny has its own ways and so now you are trapped, here in a samsara of endless possibilities, all from the past up to the future; all that is only but a dream yet to spur along with the branches of life.
You dance, you circle around the twinkling stars swimming along azure waters that reflect the night sky, following the roots of time ever so slowly growing, a future waiting to be born, its memories captured in the garden of recollection. Spin after spin, countless lightcones spawn in the vicinity of your eyes; an attempt to draw you unto them, delving into the memories of both the future and past once more. They all glimmer in your eyes, symbolizing its high importance to those who gaze at it, but truth be told, you didn't want to look at them anymore, not when you know you'll only hurt yourself in the process. Even then, you caress them over your palms ever so gently, cherishing the moments silently; actions do speak louder than words after all.
And now you wonder, will everything be alright? Now that the stars have finally collided, and so shall your encounter with death had arrived.
"Y/n... Y/N..."
"Aventurine-"
"They're... they're gone. They really are not here anymore, huh?" He whispers, tightly holding your cold, desolate body.
Despair was imminent in the thick air that engulfs the room as he desperately tries to hold back himself from tearing on the spot. He'd hate for the two of you to see him cry and be vulnerable; after all, didn't he tell you that he doesn't bet on the losing end?
And yet here he is: lo and behold, the winner of it all, stripping him of his own tears, his own freedom to be frail and weak, all just to keep himself at bay, and yet failing so miserably.
"......."
Only silence was heard across the room, rather, it was the only answer the genius could give him. Though not fitting his character, he believes that even he could not give the response the man wanted; needed even.
"There's no time left to mourn what's already gone, we should make haste." It was the only thing he could reply. He knew he had to give him an answer somehow, else the man's insanity would escalate even further.
".....leave.."
"what?"
"leave me alone, I... I'll follow you after a while, just please let me be," he pleads achingly, as if he is almost breaking into the point of oblivion.
Utter brokenness was the only thing he heard upon Aventurine's response. And that alone already tells him that
You wished it wouldn't have been sooner, that you could stay just a little bit longer. And so you fought, no, you ran, you ran along with them in the dark in hopes of outrunning time but to no avail. In the end, you still had to go, regret trailing alongside your eyes brimming with tears.
"Hey no fair! that's my share Aventurine!"
"Not when you say please~"
"Such prudence... Will you two stop the act already?"
"Ooh so scary, Mr. Alabaster head~" you tease, obviously trying to mock him and his antics.
"Indeed. I wonder, where is that handsome bust of yours? You don't seem to wear it as much anymore~" Aventurine coos, whilst holding the bag of candies on his right hand, with you struggling on the other hand, trying to reach the said bag from him.
He scoffs upon hearing the blonde's remarks, though what he was saying is true. If he were to be honest, he doesn't see the two of you as an idiot, but he wouldn't openly admit it to both of you, not with his pride and ego of course. Sighing, he knocks the blonde's head lightly, making the guy dramatically wince in pain.
"ow, that hurts y'know?" he cries all the while you were there, stifling a laughter trying not to laugh at his obvious acting.
It was just a simple day for the three of you in the IPC and yet at that moment, everything felt light; it felt as if the three of you were simply living in your own world, rightfully so. It felt so comforting, like a dream you wish that will never end. But then...
All those years of endless banter, the fondness of even the simplest of times; both good and bad, and them, the two of which you truly had loved with all of your heart, the stars you thought you would never reach; but you did, ever so effortlessly. To think that fate had allowed for the three of you to meet is a miracle from the aeons themselves. And despite their clashing personalities, the pointless arguments they dare not speak of, the past one does not wish to return to, you made it work somehow, like fixing the broken pieces of a broken glass only to be shattered again, all because of that stupid, cruel thing called fate. But somehow, you found yourself here in the samsara, reborn from the memories that you hold, now with a new purpose; to collect and to preserve new memories once more, in hopes of retaining what's for the future to hold on to when the time comes. And now that you have regained life in a different form, perhaps you could go back to the real world, to raise a bud anew, in that beautifully miserable place. And perhaps you could meet them again, not letting go of any opportunity given to you, to build a new bridge, to finally reconnect the three of you once more, all for a better future.
"May the cosmos guide you to the path of the unknown, my beloved stars. "
to be continued......
xx/xx/xxxx
xx:xx
From: ■■■■■■■
To: ■■■■■■■■■■, ■■■■■■■■■■
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
To Aventurine
"To my dearest gambler, blessed upon the gaze of Gaiathra. I simply bestow to you my full adoration and longing. The unknown may hold us captive in our own, but we shall be the winners who'll decide the results; and it seems like it in your side, to which I could only pray for its continuous flow. I am truly humbled by your guts and wits, my dear. But despite it all, I could feel the lingering despair each time you gamble your life away. So to you I offer this humble gift; a gift of life and new comings. Never forget, you are Kakavasha, born from the bright yellow star, blessed by abundant luck and fortune. May you walk upon this newly lit path of destiny, along with him and what's left of us. "
To Ratio
"To my favorite scholar, truly a genius amongst geniuses. I could only stare in awe upon all of the achievements you have gotten. I may not be as potent as your vast amounts of knowledge nor do I reach the same standards as you do, but please be reminded that there are things that even the smartest revolutionists simply could not have a grasp of. And even if it seems that one's passing is but a swift gust of wind in your eyes, I could tell: the moment my drifting eyes meet yours, those eyes of yours are telling otherwise. So please, be a little bit nicer to them next time. You may never know; that in the future, he will be in your saving grace, hoping that you'll spare him the sympathy that he truly needs. "
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poetrysmackdown · 9 months
Note
hi hiii i wanted to say that your account is so refreshing to see, esp with the passion you have for the arts. as someone who's been meaning to read (and write) more poetry, do you have any recommendations? some classics that everyone and their mothers know? perhaps some underrated pieces that changed you? or even just authors you like, I'm very open to suggestions :]]
Hi! Thank you so much for this kind ask :) So exciting that you’re looking to delve deeper into reading and writing! I had to take a little time to answer this because my thoughts were all over the place lol.
For a review of notable/classic poems/poets, I honestly just recommend looking at lists online or, hell, just binging Wikipedia pages for different countries’ poetry if that’s something you’re into, just to get a sense of the chronology. I read one of those little Oxford Very Short Introductions on American Poetry and thought it was pretty good, but online is quicker if you’re just searching for poets or movements to hone in on. Poetry Foundation also has lots of resources, in addition to all the poems in their database. I guess my one big classic recommendation would have to be Emily Dickinson (<3), but really the best move is just to find a poet you already enjoy and then look around to see who their peers were/are, who they were inspired by, who they’ve maybe translated here and there, etc. and follow it down the line as far as you can.
For some personal recs, here are some collections I’ve really enjoyed over the past two years or so. Bolded favorites, and linking where select poems from the book have been published online. But also, if you want a preview of a couple poems from another of the books to see if they interest you, DM me and I can send them over! You can also feel free to pilfer through my poetry tag for more stuff lol
Autobiography of Death by Kim Hyesoon trans. Don Mee Choi
Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings by Joy Harjo
DMZ Colony by Don Mee Choi
Hardly War by Don Mee Choi
Whereas by Layli Long Soldier
Geography III by Elizabeth Bishop
Dictee by Theresa Hak Kyung Cha
Don’t Let Me Be Lonely: An American Lyric by Claudia Rankine
Mouth: Eats Color—Sagawa Chika Translations, Anti-Translations, & Originals by Sawako Nakayasu
The Selected Poems of Osip Mandelstam trans. W.S. Merwin and Clarence Brown
The Branch Will Not Break by James Wright
This Journey by James Wright
God’s Silence by Franz Wright
Duino Elegies by Rainer Maria Rilke (the translation I read was by Alfred Corn—I thought it was great, but idk if there are better ones out there!)
DMZ Colony, Hardly War, Dictee, Don’t Let Me Be Lonely, and partially Whereas are all book-length poems with some prose poetry and varying levels of weirdness/denseness/multilingualism—if you were to pick one to start with, I’d say do Don’t Let Me Be Lonely or Whereas. Mouth: Eats Color is some experimental translations of Japanese modernist poet Chika Sagawa, with other translations and some of Nakayasu’s original stuff mixed in—it's definitely a bit disorienting but ultimately I remember having such fun with it, as much fun as Nakayasu probably had making it. It’s a book that emphasizes co-creation and a spirit of play, and completely changed my attitude towards translation.
If you’re less interested in that kind of formal fuckery stuff though (I get it), can’t go wrong with the other books! Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings is the one I read most recently, and it’s great—Harjo also featured in Round 1! Franz Wright also featured, and God's Silence is the collection which "Night Walk" comes from. James Wright (father of Franz) is one of my favorite poets of all time, though his poetry isn’t perfect. Even so, I’m honestly surprised he’s not doing numbers on Tumblr—Mary Oliver was a big fan of his, even wrote her "Three Poems for James Wright" after his death.
I mentioned in another post that one of my favorite poets is Paul Celan, so I’ll also recommend him here. I read Memory Rose into Threshold Speech which is a translated collection of his earlier poems, but it’s quite long if you’re just getting to know him as a poet—fortunately, both Poetry Foundation and Poets.org have a ton of his poems in their collections. There’s also an article by Ilya Kaminsky about him titled “Of Strangeness That Wakes Us” (!!!!!) that’s a great place to start, and is honestly kind of my whole mission statement when I’m reading and writing poetry. Looking at the books I’ve recommended above, a lot of them share feelings of separateness or alienation—from others, from oneself, from one’s country, from language—that breed strange, private modes of expression. That tends to be what I’m drawn to personally, and that’s some of what Kaminsky talks about.
Sorry of the length of this—I hope it's useful as a jumping-off point! And if you or anyone ends up exploring any of these poets, let me know what you think! If folks wanna reply with recommendations themselves too that'd be great :)
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bhpop · 5 months
Text
For @rose-tea-and-strawberries
{Concept art for a spider-girl Yuu someone brought up, but since I don't wanna fully put my own image of spider Yuu in case others imagined them differently, this is heavily based more on astv instead of just a general spider-man/woman Yuu}
TW: Mention of death {Yuu's Canon Event}
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{In case you can't tell I added a bit of spider-Gwen [ghost-spider] to this Yuu [with the slight colored hair, losing their best friend and soon father, also this Yuu has a more Micky inspired suit since their old one got torn from their canon event and Micky felt bad so he made one for them that goes with the waiter outfits.}
I can honestly see the staff at House of Mouse along with the guest {mainly the great seven} being pretty concerned and curious of this Yuu's world/dimension since I'd be pretty understandable this Yuu has trust issues not because their villains/magical people but because they don't want to possibly lose them like how they lost their Peter/Gwen/father.
And to go deeper on the topic of spider-Yuu {mainly with canon events and more connected to the atsv plot} I like to image that before arriving at Twisted Wonderland and working at House of Mouse they just went through their canon event of losing their dimensions Peter/Gwen or father.
Along with that, since this Yuu is from another dimension and arrived in a different world {twst} they'd technically be an anomaly, since it's theorized/hinted that the spider society can only go to dimensions/worlds WITH a spider-man/woman in them. So they may tend to glitch a lot {which is canonically very painful} due to their body's genes not being from that place unless the more powerful/magical guest or staff at NRC and House Of Mouse placed a spell that prevents them from glitching.
Bonus: I believe maybe the NRC boys {especially the dorm leaders and our boy Jamil} would be a little jealous of Yuu's Peter/Gwen since they were the first ones to get close to/love Yuu, but feel bad for being jealous since you know, Yuu's first friend/lover is dead {rip Peter/Gwen but I prefer to make Peter's death this Yuu's canon event since Gwen already went through it in most other worlds}. Idia would most definitely be jealous of Yuu's Ganke though lol.
{Anyway here's Yuu's Canon event, similar to spider-Gwen's canon event since I'd just get sadder thinking of more brutal ideas for Yuu's Peter}
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{So to explain this in short, Yuu's Peter was similar to Gwen's Peter and turned himself into a giant lizard, so they fight without Yuu knowing it's him and then the giant rubble crushes him and turns him back into his human form, Yuu hears his slow breaths {since he's literally dieing from being crushed} and realizes it's him but got trapped in rubble as well so they had to cut their hair off with the sharpest rock/shard of glass they could find so that's why their hair looks so messy and choppy at the bottom due to the panic and want to find and save her friend Peter, but he dies in their arms obviously. So in memory of him they keep their hair the same and never let it grow longer since they feel like they'd lose him again in a different way {+they dyed their hair his favorite color at the end, or just your favorite color in general}. Tragic.}
I'm feeling angsty 🥀💔😏.
{Honestly bonus points if Yuu was destined to die like Gwen in other dimension versions of them, everyone is going to freak out.}
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genericpuff · 3 months
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Why is the art so unappealing in lore Olympus now Persephone looks like a highlighter and maybe it’s just me but the proportions like the fingers in arms are soul over the place I don’t think they used to be this bad. Am I just looking at it with nostalgia or am I crazy ?
Honestly, nostalgia does play a huge part in it, even to this day there are times I look back on old S1 panels and go-
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Actually here's a great example that literally just happened yesterday in the ULO Discord that nearly had me on the floor LOL This is from Episode 70:
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Like I didn't even believe that that was real until I was told what episode it was from and I was just. Astounded and flabbergasted. The over-shading of the blanket that just makes it look like a really bad edit. Insane.
And yeah, there are a lot of old panels that hit different now that the rose-colored glasses have been removed, crushed, and thrown into the trash compactor.
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I think that's why it makes it all the more amusing when people come into my inbox and ask me "wait, why did you like LO to begin with?? It's always been ugly as shit, I think you're just romanticizing it" because like... there's something to be said about art and subjectivity, even if something is ugly to one person doesn't mean it isn't beautiful to someone else. It's why I try not to be too mean towards the fans of this comic for still enjoying it, because while I definitely have strong opinions about how "LO has gotten worse" and what kind of following Rachel has cultivated (cough cough), there are also just as equally valid arguments that LO has never begin good to begin with that I can't necessarily disagree with now that I'm looking back on it with a more critical eye.
That said, there's tons of media that I enjoy that is objectively awful. Like y'all, you don't need to take my opinions about a dumb pink x blue fantasy romance comic seriously, I like Starfox Adventures-
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Like yeah it's a badly made rushed piece of shit that was developed right on the ass end of Rare's glory days and was really an original IP (Dinosaur Planet) that got Frankenstein'd into a Starfox game so it could "sell better" for Nintendo, but I don't give a fuck, I love Starfox Adventures and some day I wanna be in the top 10 speedrunner leaderboards for it, which I know doesn't mean much because no one is speedrunning Starfox, but I do and no one can take that away from me dammit-
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Anyways. Lore Olympus has, in many regards, always had "bad art". But "bad art" can and should still be enjoyed by those who find joy in it.
And in LO's case, the world it existed in when it launched was a lot smaller than it is now - more specifically, the world of Webtoons. We can look back and see how 'bad' LO looks and reads now because there are genuinely way better comics surrounding it. It was unique and refreshing and experimental back then... now it's just "that stupid blue and pink comic for horny teenagers".
In most cases I would consider that "cringing in hindsight" feeling a good thing because normally it means something has grown and that it seeming "bad" in hindsight would mean that it's outgrown itself and moved onto bigger things. But LO has the more unique problem of "its current stuff is shit and it's making us want the old stuff more, even if the old stuff wasn't good either". In that regard, LO is closer to being like Harry Potter. Remember when The Cursed Child came out at the height of Rowling being exposed for being a TERF and even people who liked Harry Potter didn't like The Cursed Child because it was just objectively worse overall (with or without Rowling's bullshit attached)? It made a lot of people go back and re-read / rewatch Harry Potter with a more objective lens and go "wait a minute guys, I think we only adored these books so much because we were 12 when we read them". Often times it's the good memories we have surrounding certain things that make us have the opinion about them that we do.
Of course, LO is definitely not as politically weaponized as Harry Potter is, so that's where that comparison ends. But my point is that LO is definitely in a situation where it's been riding off the same privileges it had back in 2018 - having an 'experimental' art style while also utilizing tropes and characters that were VERY popular at the time (remember that 2017-18 was when Tumblr was at its height of H x P "Hades was a chill accountant guy who wore socks and sandals and didn't cheat on his wife like Zeus did" fantasizing) - and thinks that those same tricks and tropes will still work today.
Because of this, the art in LO really, really hasn't aged well, even the stuff that we look back on fondly. But I think it's the panels that we specifically think of when remembering "old LO" - the ones that stuck in our memories the most - that are the ones that make us miss or just not care about the panels that don't look good (the panels that make people question why we ever liked it to begin with).
We liked it because of how it made us feel to look at panels like these-
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Those genuinely wonderful panels that we think back on the most don't exist separately from the bad panels, they exist in spite of them. Even if we can look back on panels like these and pick out problems in the lineart or the proportions or the color travelling outside of the lines, that can't and shouldn't change how those panels made us feel at some point or another. And that's why when people ask me "why were you even into LO in the first place" I don't have any one answer, because I can't fully explain how something made me feel to justify why it's good to someone who can see from the outside - without rose-colored glasses - that it evidently isn't. It's very much a "you had to be there" type of thing.
Unfortunately, nowadays even the 'best' LO panels in S3 still don't come close to what the S1 panels accomplished - because for many of us, the rose-colored glasses are gone, we can't appreciate the good among the bad because we know now how bad it truly is and so the good just feels like wasted attempts at trying to recreate something it can no longer be. It "came back wrong" so to speak.
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LO came back just regular. But our journey to resurrecting it changed us to such a degree that even its closest intimacies are now foreign to us. Sorry dude.
This is still probably one of my favorite panels out of the entirety of S3 for being as close to "old LO" as I've seen since S2, and even it feels like a mistake, an accident, how could a panel like this exist in S3 when so much of it is a dumpster fire? It's like a flower growing in the ruins of an apocalyptic wasteland.
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But wasn't that always the case? Isn't that 'always' what LO has been, since the very beginning? A poorly cobbled together mess of writing and panels that, every now and then, manages to leave an impression that makes you feel something? Did we ever truly know LO? Or have we just been relying entirely on an idea of it that we've built up in our heads that when it does do exactly what it's evidently always done (even if not made apparent until looking back on it in hindsight) we think it "came back wrong"?
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tikvin · 20 days
Text
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Durge girlies infodump ✨
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Eshra
Bard+vengeance paladin (I call it "got her powers out of sheer hate". Also dialogs of those classes are most fitting for her. She's also not classic Bard tho, doesn't have instrument either)
Is one of the most uncanny looking durges, but you only notice if you look at her for more than a moment and think about it more than a minute. The more you look at her the more strange things you start to notice. The streaks on corners of her mouth with time will reveal to be a wide mouth, unhinging jaw. Hair color and eyes that are not natural for drow. Slightly longer limbs, all that.
However she's a very charismatic person and averts the attention from the details easily enough. She's cunning, knows when to observe silently and when to speak. She's not a prying type, but very perceptive of emotions of others.
Eshra is in romance w/ Astarion, and Eshra detected his lies very soon, but kept quiet about it, playing along and waiting to see where it goes.
Eshra doesn't have anything against killing, however the real joy she gets is from killing those who think they are the shit. Bringing down prideful and strong chars to pathetic death (favourably in most dishonouroful way) is quite the delight of her life. She tries to avert her urges from the unreasonable (to anyone sane) targets to someone strong. She's also smart enough to dig for reasons to kill, Kahga being the best example. Eshra had an urge to just watch the little girl die.Fotr the fist time such urge concerned her, the itch of the urge would not stop if she just ignores it, so she redirects it to someone "bad" in the room, that being Kahga. She digs for reasons to kill and does so, without even trying to make Kahga change her mind.
Eshra also at first "saved" Lae'zel only to wait and dig for a reason to kill her. Eshra attacks Minthara almost instantly, because Minthara is smart and quickly notices something isn't right with her, and Eshra feels thretened by Minthara's prying. She would prefer her to stay silent, silent for eternity.
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Jericho
Wild magic sorcerer
I headcanon her to be a very masterful before the amnesia and losing the control after, requiring help of Gale to try and control it (and that's how they get married lmao). She actually might have turned a bit dumber after amnesia.
Jericho is the most determined to stop the urges and most disgusted by her deeds among my durges. She's also a bit cowardly when it comes to her past, so she doesn't pry too much into it, afraid of what she might find. She also the one to believe Emperor. She's a bit wary, but doesn't see Orpheus helping them (the mountain pass was skipped on account of lore reasons, absence of Lae'zel, cuz after reading the discs of Orpheus there's just no reason keep Emperor alive. I will be playing again with Lae'Zel present, so Jericho would free Orpheus, cuz she'd trust Lae'Zel. Which one is canon I will decide after)
After the game events she recognizes her cowardice, and now feeling much more secure in loving and peaceful environment, she does her best to research bhaalspawn and everything about it to help prevent tragedies. Also the only girlie who is a bit bummed that she must avoid having biological children, but she's dutiful enough to recognize that responsibility.
Also the softest among durges, maybe because she got hit in the head the hardest lol, the one who truly starts a completely new and different life after the incident.
Oh, and she's 100% sure Tara doesn't like her, if not hate her
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Thalissa
Assasin rogue+fighter.
Very much not a real githyanki and avoids actual githyanki, while simultaneously pretending to be one when it's convenient. With her I'm planning multiple play throughs btw, current one is without Lae'Zel, other will be with her and another with her being Tav.
She's also not concerned much with her urges, or her memories ("eh, I'm a rogue, I doubt I had much to care about anyway"). Obnoxiously smart mouthed, nonchalant, sometimes unintentionally rude. "Heh, yea, I'm a swamp elf". She hides her face usually, pretending to be whatever other race people might mistake her for.
Much like Eshra, Thalissa enjoys killing those who are oh so full of themselves
But she also actually enjoys being around "goodie two shoes" characters, because she likes to poke fun and make them just a bit annoyed, also secretly hoping their "goodiness" will rub off on her a bit, to quiet down the bloodlust.
Thalissa as a Tav is still the "chill and easy going gith". A githyanki who escaped strict military life and lives in material plane, because she enjoys it way more, even if often faced with prejudice.
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Thana
Monk
Very temperamental, openly rude, but not in an elegant way like drows are usually, more barbarian like actually. She might have a bit of a anger issues and it's relatively easy to set her off.
Not the smartest one, not book wise at least.
Not very concerned for cultural things either. "Blah blah blah, balance, rules, boooring, are we fighting or what?"
She is also the one who gets concerned only when her urges start targeting children, but brush them off to kid being annoying and the urge being an intrusive thought. She genuinely tries to be "the friendly drow", but the moment she hears something rude with "you're a drow" reasoning she just can't keep her tongue back, which then doesn't help her making her case lol. You get approximately 3 sentences to make her like you, cus that how long it takes for her to decide (however, in certain cases she might get mad that you don't like her and make it her mission to make you her friend)
She's also not too concerned about memory loss, she undermines her "condition" until it takes grave turn, then she's scared, but too prideful to admit it, until, yet again, it gets in dangerous area (act 2)
That would be it for now, just a bit of general info about the girlies. If you have your favorite, feel free to ask about them, I'd love to answer, I've been keeping the lore for a long time
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dawneternal · 2 months
Text
Just a Favor
✦ A Gwynriel first kiss one-shot (turned into multiple parts after requests for more)
✦ Inspired by a true story 🫣 when I started dating my wife in high school I had never been kissed before and she kept very politely asking if she could kiss me and I kept getting too nervous and saying no. That went on for like two months and then I finally told her to kiss me without asking or I'd keep saying no lol and she did. The end
✦ Word Count: 1.7k
✦ AO3 Link / Masterlist
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"I have a favor to ask you," Gwyn's voice pulled Azriel from his thoughts.
She sat across from him at the kitchen table, half-eaten plates of lunch in front of them. The Valkyries had stayed for lunch after training, Gwyn lingering after Cassian had left to fly Emerie home. Nesta had excused herself to find a book for Gwyn, leaving the pair alone.
Azriel had not thought anything of this sequence of events, but now that he was looking at the Gwyn, head tilted to the side with an inquisitive gleam in her eye, he was finding it all suspicious.
"It's kind of an unconventional thing, so prepare yourself." Gwyn continued. He took note of her fingers fiddling with a buckle on her leathers.
"Okay," Azriel said slowly, resisting the urge to furrow his brows. Or maybe run away.
"Are you prepared?"
"Yes, I won't react."
"I want to be kissed."
True to his word, Azriel's face remained unchanged. Though his stomach had done a flip and his heartbeat thundered.
"Okay, you can react a little," Gwyn cried, indignant and incredulous.
"Are you asking me to kiss you?" Azriel surprised himself with his own calm tone.
"Either that, or help me find someone. Because I trust you to help me find someone who isn't an asshole." She had shrunk into herself a little, like her confidence had waned. Her gaze drifted down to her plate.
"Why me, though?" The corners of his mouth quirked up just a touch.
"Nesta hates everyone, Emerie only knows Illyrians and they hate Valkyries, Cassian is Cassian, and I'm not asking my High Lord or Lady to find someone to kiss me."
They were all fair arguments. He didn't bother asking why she wanted to be kissed so desperately. All of her actions pointed toward wanting to move on. He'd overheard the Valkyries several times encouraging Gwyn toward what they called 'the last step' - moving out of the library.
"I'll do it," Az said, cursing his voice for cracking. How could she unnerve him so?
She was just a woman. Except that a singular word could not fully capture what Gwyn was. Priestess, Valkyrie, Carynthian, she was something incredible. The most brightly colored thing in his life. Copper hair, turquoise eyes, white ribbons, auburn freckles.
Gwyn cheered and gave him a triumphant, toothy grin. He could not help smiling in return.
"What do you want me to do?" He asked, unsure how to proceed.
"I just want you to kiss me like you would anyone you really liked," Gwyn was blushing, now. Eyes a little wild, like she hadn't expected to get this far.
"That doesn't really tell me what you want," Azriel protested.
He picked at a leftover sliver of sandwich to give his hands something to do. His shadows buzzed with energy, darting to far corners of the room and reporting back about the dust that lived there.
"Well...what was your first kiss like?" Gwyn asked. She smiled at one shadow that approached her outstretched hand like a shy kitten.
"Probably not what you'd want," Azriel flashed a sheepish grin, still embarrassed by the centuries-old memory, "It was pretty bad. This will be your first kiss?"
"Yes," Gwyn kept her gaze on the tendril of shadow weaving through her fingers. "I think maybe I don't want you to ask me first,"
"I always ask before I kiss someone, no matter how I feel about them."
"Well, the problem is that if you ask, I might chicken out and say no," She sighed, "So I may need you to just do it."
"Ah," Azriel grinned, "I see. You want me to make it a moment."
Before she could answer, he stood and crossed to her in a few strides, turning her chair to face him and bracing one hand on the back of it. Gwyn looked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted. He leaned in close, nose a few inches from hers. Somehow, her nervousness had cancelled his out and returned his confidence. At the very least, he knew he was capable of making her first kiss better than his had been.
"I have no qualms with a surprise, if that's what you want." He said, deep voice rumbling in his chest.
"Yes," Gwyn whispered, heart hammering in anticipation.
This close, she could count every freckle scattered over his bronze skin. There was a beauty mark she had never seen before right on the edge of his full bottom lip, and glimmers of gold in his amber eyes. She hoped desperately that he could not hear the catch of her breath.
Azriel stayed still for a moment, gaze fixed on hers, letting her wonder if this was the moment. A part of her hoped that it wasn't, just so she could feel this again, have another chance to memorize his features. To breathe his piney scent, feel his shadows caress her skin.
Perhaps she should have just asked him to help her find a stranger.
Azriel straightened, flashed an insufferable smirk, and walked out of the room. Gwyn heard his footsteps echo down the hall, leaving her alone in the silent kitchen. She felt as though a summer storm had just rolled through her world, dark and alluring and thrilling all at once.
Nesta, with her brilliant intuition, returned a moment later, squealing when she took in Gwyn's red cheeks.
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A few nights later, after a family dinner at the River House, a little group set out to the far corner of the estate. There, a little branch of the Sidra curved through the meadow before pouring back into the sea. A small stone bridge crossed over it, leading to an ivy covered gazebo. Azriel, Cassian, Nesta, and Mor all set out to get a moment of fresh air and a glimpse of the moonlight dancing on the water.
Gwyn followed, giggling with the group at Mor's tipsy stumbling and Cassian's booming voice declaring that he could definitely skip a rock father than the rest of them. This, of course, illicited a challenge and they all began a search for perfect rocks. Gwyn was particularly skilled at skipping stones and giddy at the idea of surprising the group with her talent and wiping the smirk from Cassian's face.
But just as she stepped over the little stone bridge, a hand grasped her arm and whirled her around. She found herself in Azriel's arms, among the swaying grass and delicate flowers. They stood halfway down the bank of the stream, Azriel's boots braced against the slope, holding them upright. The mossy stone bridge hid them from sight, only the tops of their heads visible if the rest of the group bothered to look.
It took Gwyn a moment to register what had happened, to calm her heart and adjust to the feeling of the shadowsinger's arms wrapped around her waist. He smiled down at her, moonlight gleaming in his hazel eyes. This was the moment.
Azriel softly placed his hands on her face and pulled her in a little closer. He was silent, giving her long moments to stop him if she wished. But she tucked herself into him, hands resting on his chest, fingertips just brushing the skin above his collar. She blushed deep red, looking up at him through lowered lashes, though the glimmer in her eye was eager.
Azriel could not help but notice how perfectly she fit in his hold, like her face and his hands had once been a single block of marble, the curve between them cut with a single motion. Something about it so familiar, so deeply rooted it felt almost ancient. Sacred.
And Gwyn could not help the feeling that bloomed in her chest when he brought his lips to hers. Soft, sweet, reverant. His touch was warm, every place where they connected sent sparks through her body.
She knew, deep down, was no fleeting feeling. This was the feeling of something beginning. Perhaps this was a spectacularly stupid idea, after all, as she was certain that no other kiss would ever feel this way.
Azriel pulled away, thumb brushing over her cheek. The moment he met her eyes, he felt it. It was nothing like he thought it would be. Neither pain nor pleasure, something so unique there was only one thing that it could be. Gwyn glowed before him, her aura golden. So bright, the star his whole being now orbited.
He knew he looked like a fool. Gasping, chest heaving like her kiss had hurt him. And the concern on her face stung, because it meant she had not felt it, too.
"Azriel?" She whispered, her rose-tinted stupor fading. Azriel let go of her, hands dropping stiffly to his sides. His skin burned, already craving more of her touch.
"How do you feel?" He croaked, though he knew the answer. She did not feel as he did, no matter how much she had liked it.
"Are you okay?" She asked, instead of answering. Her hands still rested against his chest, and now her fingers curled around his shirt collar, holding tight. He looked like he was beginning to panic.
Azriel shook his head, wings spreading out with a snap. It was too much. The sorrow, the longing, the roaring joy. Subtle hints of her own emotions drifting down the newly forged bond.
Mind swirling, he placed a hand on his chest and stepped back. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Just staring at the dazzling girl before him, who had been so shy about being kissed. Surely she would not be happy about such an intense bond, not be ready. And she had asked him for a kiss because she cared so little for him. She had hoped for a kiss that would not matter. No, she would not want this.
He could only think of one word and it was likely the only thing he should not say. Instead of saying anything, he shot upwards into the sky, disappearing as a dark smudge in the night. A single streak of blue in the darkness.
Gwyn was left alone, hands hovering where he had been. Confused, concerned, and entirely unaware of the bond singing in Azriel's chest.
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